Ghost of the Past
Hello readers. I know you must be waiting for the next chapter to Blood bonds to be up and I am working on it but I just had to show you this short one shot that a friend of mine did. I'm part of a Hetalia RP Forum and my Russia wrote something that I had to share with you all. I make the request that who ever reads this reviews. She is excited to find out what you all think. So here it is her short Hetalia Russia fic, Ghosts of the Past.
He had left the Winter Palace and was now trudging through the snow. It was already pitch-black and the falling snow limited one's vision even further. His gaze wandered off into the distance as far as he could possibly see. His eyes were distant. Cold. The smile on his lips was fixed, yet it held no emotion.
The Winter Palace was a beautiful sight to behold, but he hated it. He hated how it always reminded him of one day, one day of his long life. And he could not forget. He could still see the blood on the streets. On his hands. Even though it was long gone. They hadn't done anything, they were innocent. The corners of his mouth twitched subtly. But they deserved it. He had shot them down, because they deserved it. Yes, that's it. They had no right to demand more and more when he was already trying so hard. Every day. They needed to shut up.