Zimnyaya Noch
'Twas a winter night if I remember correctly. You say I was wrong now, but I know what I saw. Listen to me! Listen! I know what I heard! You must listen and you surely shall hear my tale. 'Twas a night full of darkness and mystery; one that was not recorded in any history. Oh, how I heard her wails loud and clear in that night! I ran out to her and pondered this strange sight. My dear Anja, my child that I so loved, was drowning in her tears. "My child, please tell me, what is it that you fear?" I asked as calmly as a father could. Her Ivory hair seemed matted, and her dress ripped up at the ends. "Father… It is my beloved. I fear he may have done something he'll regret," she answered meekly. Ah, her dear Francis. That was who was to blame.
I carried her inside to be warm and sleep before the dawn came. She still sobbed as I set her down. Her lavender eyes were red from crying, but they closed gently as her sobbing died down little by little. It was horrible and I could do naught but frown. As I held her, I said, "Hush my child. I will right this wrong." Alas, my words fell on deaf ears. She was long gone to the otherworld. Oh how my stomach curled! My little Anja was taken from me. Heartbreak stilled her precious heart forever. Her dead weight was in my arms, and yet I didn't think it could be! I set her down and dressed in my coat and grabbed my scarf. It would not be long before I found the one I now despised. Yes… Yes, indeed he would be surprised. Lord to be, Francis Bonnefoy, would be getting the most… unpleasant surprise of his life. Down the street I ran; to the old cathedral with the stained glass windows. St. Peter watched over it along with the fearsome gargoyles. Alas, no angel would be watching over the young lord tonight.
I don't know how I knew, but I did! Listen when I say I did! I knew he was there, but how, I have no clue. Father's intuition, perhaps? As I walked in, very quietly, I saw the fiend kneeling before the cross. He was praying, no doubt. Ironic… With a smirk on my face, I walked up behind him. "Evening Francis," I greeted him sweetly. He lifted his golden-haired head and smiled at me. "Good evening, Sir Ivan. What brings one of the famed Braginski house here so late?" he asked. Oh hohohoh! So amusing, this could be. I towered over him, staring down with dark, cold purple eyes. "'Why are you here?' you ask me?" I said, "You should know better than anyone else. My dear Anja has been taken from me." His blue eyes widened in fear. His heartbeat I could clearly hear. "Ivan, sir, I beg you, please! Let me help to put your mind at ease!" he cried.
No. I would not listen to the words of a murderer. His words held nothing in my heart except for hatred. He started backing away, but I ran and tackled him to the ground. "What did you do to Anja?" I screamed. He tired to push me away, but I tied my scarf around his neck, choking him before he could get away. I felt the need to torment him for what he'd done. It seemed right and fair. "Sir!" he choked out, "Stop! This is crazy!" Anger then made my vision hazy. 'Twas like a red fog spilled out over the room. Right then, I decided that the old church would be his tomb. There was nothing I wanted more than to choke the life out of him. To my left I saw a pipe from a broken water valve. I brought it down on the top of his head, a glint in my eyes. "Tell me what you did to her. Now," I demanded. The scream of pain he let out sounded strangely fulfilling to my ears. He gasped out to try and take in air.
Again I hit his head, but this time a little harder. "Damn you! You wicked demon! Why did you take my beloved daughter away from me? She was all I had! You will burn in hell for what you've done to me!" I yelled. So bent on revenge I was, that I didn't hear his words. "I just… made a bet…" he croaked. It took me a moment to realize what he had said. My eyes teared up as I said, "So… my Anja died… because of your debt." He nodded as I stared at the floor beside him. I rolled off him and started to sob. My head began, to my dismay, to throb. Oh I was still so angry! Listen to me! Listen, you fools! He stood on wobbly feet. I swear his voice sounded almost bittersweet. "I- I'm sorry sir. I just couldn't pay it off, so they decided to kill her off…" he mumbled. I looked up at him with a glare. Was I a demon? Right then, I did not care. He started running out of the church, terrified of me. Something snapped inside of me, and I could no longer take it. With a yell, I jumped on him once more. He would NOT make it to the door! My hands flew to his sides, hitting him as hard as I could. It felt great! I found myself laughing as I beat him. "Die!" I yelled, "Die! Die! You cur! You demon! There is no escaping the wrath of Saint Peter!" At that moment, I felt as if Peter himself came down to guide me. He started to bleed; a river of blood seemed to be coming from his body. It flowed from his nose, his mouth, his sides, and his ears! His head almost burst open with the bleeding! And now, my anger was slightly receding.
All of a sudden people rushed in, screaming and yelling. 'He's gone mad! It was her death!' they said. I could barely hear them. My head was fuzzy with revenge. It was numb, as if someone had stuck me with a medicine-filled syringe. I sat there smiling down at Francis, now dead on the floor. Those poor idiots didn't have to even drag me through the door. They kept saying that Anja had been dead a long time. That I'd snapped from the loss. Hah! I know what I saw and I know what I heard! My Anja had been killed by him, and now I committed a sin with a grin. "I would do it again!" I yelled, "Again! Again! And again!" Someone kept on trying to tell me to calm down. I WAS calm! As calm and at peace as I'd ever felt before! A man tried to hold me down, but I pushed him away, laughing as his head cracked on the slick ice. Red against white… It looked kind of nice. Someone yelled, "Sadiq!" as he fell. I assumed that was the man I'd just sent to hell. Oh well. He'd deserved it for violating my person. It disgusted me when anyone other than family touched me. I even denied any handshake. People were utterly and completely disgusting!
Another one tried to calm and tie me down. This one I knew. It was Young Master Roderich Edelstein. "Lord Braginski, calm yourself. Anja has been dead for a while now," he said. "What? How?" I yelled at him. I'd seen her! She'd spoken to me! With greater force this time, I pushed him free. "Get away from me!" With sad eyes he stared. As I had no idea what was about to happen, I glared. With sadistic glee I looked back at the blood the other man had left on the snow, then up at the moon, which had an iridescent glow.
I felt something painful split through my head. It occurred to me then, they would have me dead. The back of my mind had registered the thought that they'd do something, but I refused to let it break me down. Ah, but then I saw the blood. It reminded me of a new rose bud… Numbness took over as I watched them with an amused smirk…. A wide, triumphant grin and a heart full of hatred. As I fell face first into the snow, I would like you all to know, I never lost my smile.