The snow sparkled innocently in the pale sunlight. As most mornings, this one started with the promise of a new day and a new revalation. And as everyone knows: every day is another chance to learn and reflect on what had happened to get them as far as they were. There was always something to look back on, always something to look foreward to and there were always people to help up or drag down.
The little body in the snow knew this all too well. His frayed scarf covered the cuts and bruises that decorated his pale skin, deep and bloody lacerations streaked across his chest and back.
Where were his sisters?
The small child opened his hazy violet eyes halfway into pained slits. His skin hurt. His head hurt. He hurt.
He hurt so bad.
Where were his friends?
Purple lips opened and a puff of white appeared in the air at the smallest exhale. He didn't understand. Where were they? Where were the ones that said they would always be there? His sisters? His friends?
His now pale blue fingers dug into the scarlet snow. A small "mmph" passing through cracked lips as he opened his mouth in a desperate attempt to breath. Blood ran down the boys cheeks, deep wet coughs tore through his mangled body. The numerous cuts continued to bleed a deep dark crimson.
Why had this happened?
What did he do?
Russia's teeth clamped together his coughing continued. Blood sprayed through the small gaps between the now scarlet calcium that poked through his tearing gums, the nerves screaming in pain as he mashed his jaw against the top row of teeth.
His void look on his young face twisted into look of pure hate.
He hated those abominations. He positively detested those insufferable scurges that had the hebetudinous tenacity to call themselves his"friend" or worse "family". He had no friends. He had no family.
Bruised and beeding arms wrapped themselves around a small battered frame. Ivan squeezed his midsection, feeling the overwhelming toridity that filled him.
He no longer needed love or companionship to fill his shattered heart. Let his "friends" and "family" be damned! He had hate. He had a scorching rage that bubbled and overflowed through his half dead corpse. He has a heated anger that could melt the coldest snow, a acidic rage that could burn the gloatful smile off of those thickwitted dolts smashed in faces.
They would feel his hurt.
They would feel every last bit of pain and lose every little drop of precious life sustaining liquid that he did. They would know how he felt when they abandoned him in that damned frozen wasteland. They would pay dearly.
Oh so very dearly...
Bleeding and screaming until there voices froze in there ripped open throats, blood would drip down there broken faces and pour out of there torn flesh.
He would kill those who hurt him.
Those Mongol bastards would rue the day they left him in the snow to die alone.
Oh yes.. He couldn't wait.
The boy smiled with such intensity the scabbing wound on his cheek burst and bled down his face.
They would all die.
Every last one of them.
And he would be there smileing.
Smileing and laughing at there maimed corpses.
Love be damned.
He didn't need it.