Warning! Some slight gore is present in this story. If you don't like gore, then don't read!
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The night had started off as every other typical night. The marble moon had been shining its rays down to the snowy landscape below, giving the forest a peaceful image. The wild animals had burrowed themselves deep in nests and holes, doing their best to stay warm as they slept. Plant life had been buried underneath a few inches of snow, making the forest give an even more ethereal illusion.
The night had started off as every other typical night. Calm. Peaceful. Undisturbed.
The sound of crunching snow underneath a heavy boot broke the calm scene. The boot rose as quickly as it had fallen, the crunch crunch crunch a repeating pattern. The moon acted as a guide for the disrupter of this night scene, doing its best to show the intruder through the forest.
For the young man twisting his way past the many obstacles that blocked his route to safety, he thanked any higher power that allowed this particular night to carry the full moon.
Little wisps of fog left the man's mouth with each gasping breath he released. Ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump went his heart with the exertion of running his current speed for a long period of time. He didn't care, though, and forced his body past its limits as he did his best to run away from that… that monster that left him trembling with fear whenever he thought of her.
His legs gave way, though, when he couldn't see the hidden tree root and caught one of his feet in the tiny spacing between the earth and the root, causing him to trip. Snow dust scattered around him and his sudden weight squished the snow underneath him. Gasping for the oxygen he depraved his body of, the man attempted to get his body back up so he could continue to run away from the threat currently behind him. He did not want to know how far behind that threat was.
He hissed in pain when he tried moving the foot caught in the hole. He couldn't free his foot, and his ankle was very sore. Sprained, he thought grimly. Sprained or broken.
The night had started off as every other typical night. The forest under the starry sky had always sheltered varieties of life. Now in its belly it carried a Russian man who swore many Russian curses as he tried to free his foot from the earthly handcuff.
Where did everything go wrong? he thought. The Russian man had moved to America only because he was ten at the time of his mother's death and he had two half-sisters available to take care of him. He never knew that he had sisters, and their first meeting at the airport gave him a first impression that his two half siblings were…weird. Loving, but weird.
The older sister (nineteen at the time) was very…well endowed. She had inherited the same silvery-blonde hair the Russian had, and her indigo eyes glowed with love and kindness the moment she spotted him. Upon observation, the clothes she wore had been patched and sewn together numerous times, but, he decided, this gave her a worn but homey appearance.
The younger sister was seven years old and had hidden behind the older woman's legs. She, too, had silver-blonde hair, but her blue-violet gaze had not been as warm. Her ruffled blue dress as well as the white ribbon tied in her hair made her seem as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. When he made that comment, she had blushed. He thought he heard her mumble something about him becoming her husband or something of that like.
The older sister had introduced herself as Katyusha and the younger sister as Natalia. When Katyusha asked the man (at that time a boy) his name, he replied in a quiet, unsure voice, "Ivan Braginski." Katyusha then took the suitcase from the Russian, placed him in her car, and drove the now three-membered family home.
For a decade, Ivan had loved his two sisters with all his heart. Sure, Katyusha had a tendency to start crying for no reason (or a very small reason) when Ivan replied to her questions, and Natalia had some sick idea that he would marry her, but that never changed his ideals about the two (although he found them weirder than when he first met them). He loved them, and he put up with their typical behaviors hour after hour, day after day, year after year.
Twelve hours before the man had started running had marked the birth of his younger sister. Ivan had taken the car as well as some money to the nearest located town in order to get Natalia a gift. This was a tradition he had made for himself, and he followed through with it faithfully.
The night had started off as every other typical night by the time Ivan had arrived back home. He had cut off the engine, grabbed the engraved knife kit from the passenger seat (even if it was a bad idea to supply his crazy younger sister with weapons), and left the car. Wearing a childish smile on his face, Ivan had opened the front door and had entered the house. "Sisters!" he had called out. "I am home!"
No one had answered him. Maybe the party was to be held in a different room? His smile had wavered for a bit, but he kept it on and entered the kitchen.
And then his smile disappeared altogether at the scene he had witnessed. His one sister had been sprawled on the floor, eyes glazed over and face tilted in his direction. What had once been silver-blonde hair was now dyed a deep red color due to the hair strands resting in a puddle of blood. The abdomen had been ripped open, all contents emptied out in a grotesque manner. Something in the shape of what had appeared to be a stomach was resting on top of the kitchen counter.
Ivan's mind couldn't comprehend the scene in front of him for several seconds before violet eyes widened in realization. His grip on Natalia's present became nonexistent, and the kit landed with a sickening splash on the floor. He dimly realized it as the kit falling into another puddle of blood.
"Oh, god," Ivan had murmured, taking one hand to place it over his mouth in an attempt to keep the bile from rising. He backed up a few steps, unable to take his eyes off of his sister's body. "Oh god oh god oh god…"
He had backed up into another body, and Ivan had frozen. He had felt something drip onto his coat and then felt whatever that substance was soaked through. He had shaken, paralyzed with fear. It took him several deep breaths before he had even tried to attempt to turn around.
It had been his other sister, completely drenched in blood. Her hair was completely matted down with the offending liquid, but Ivan could only stare at the face of one of his beloved family members. Madness, psychotic love, and devotion had been present, and it made Ivan's stomach turn.
The night had started off as every other typical night usually did. This night, however, had changed into a night of a pointless slaughter, a night of red instead of dark blue, a night of utter insanity. Ivan might've heard his name being called by his remaining sister as he sped out the kitchen door and into the nearby forest.
And that is how everything came to be. He still couldn't understand why everything had turned out this way, nor could he understand what he had done to make one sister kill the other.
Ivan jumped back into the present as he finally snagged his foot free. Already having wasted too much time on this obstacle, Ivan stood up as fast as he could, determined to limp if he needed to.
He found it impossible, since his ankle was indeed broken and not sprained. He crumbled back down into the snow, more Russian curses flying out of his mouth as he tried to get back up.
A twig snapped, causing Ivan to freeze. The sound alarmed the Russian man, for the sound was almost directly behind him. A voice chilled him, too close for comfort.
"Ivan?" Crunching snow could be heard, each step bringing her closer. "Ivan, where are you? Oh!" A giggle soon followed. Ivan tried to crawl away from the owner's voice. "Found you~"
He misjudged the distance between them, for he felt a hand grab the back of his coat. She had flipped him over and now he had to stare at the imposing figure now above him. The snow hissed as still-warm blood came into contact, melting the snow underneath her a bit. Blood continued to fall from Ivan's sister, but now…
Ivan gagged as he witnessed the tool she carried in her hands. The pitchfork was decorated with the intestines of his other sister, dangling down and around the sharp tool as if the pitchfork were a sick parody of a Christmas tree. The tall Russian scooted backwards, trying to put as much distance between him and his demented sister as possible.
"Ivan, why do you keep running?" She stepped forward as Ivan continued to scoot backwards. Dread filled every fiber of his being when his back came into contact with a tree. He was now trapped.
"N-no!" he shouted, trying to shrink away from the hand now reaching towards him. Tears of fear ran down his face. "Go a-away!"
He shuddered in revulsion as the blood-soaked hand caressed his left cheek. "Oh Ivan," she sighed, kneeling down to come face-to-face with her brother. "I didn't mean to make you upset. I knew what she thought about you." Her soft voice and eyes filled up with disgust. "Her appearance, her voice, the sick way she always tried to please you. I had to get rid of her!"
Eyes softened once she heard Ivan choke on his sobs, tears falling faster from his violet eyes. She grabbed his face with both of her hands, allowing the pitchfork free reign to fall wherever gravity took it. It ended up falling until it leaned up against the same tree Ivan was underneath.
Ivan flinched when he felt a piece of intestine rest on his forehead, and his hair started to absorb the blood dripping off of the farming tool. He wanted to throw the offending body part away, wash his body, travel back to happier times, but he couldn't. Those eyes of hers kept him frozen, and he couldn't look away from her blurry figure.
He sobbed once he spotted those same emotions from earlier flit through her eyes, again wondering why she did what she did. "Oh Ivan," his sister sighed, grabbing him by the shoulders. "I know that you're having difficulty understanding, but she was a threat to me. I love you more than she ever did." She dragged him forward, allowing him to cry in her well-endowed chest. "We'll be together forever," she sang, feeling the vibrations of Ivan's sobs.
The night had started off as every other typical night. It should have stayed that way, but a cracked mind shattered that reality. The marble moon shined its rays down onto the earth, giving light to the scene in the forest. The snow was spotted with a train of blood, and the sister Katyusha cradled her younger brother in her arms as he continued to cry for the loss of his younger sister.
She paid no mind to her lovely pitchfork, the intestines of Natalia swinging a bit in an almost nonexistent breeze.
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A/N: Um…I can explain…
You see, this darned weather is so irritating. I don't have any AC in my room, and the night temperature never cooled down past the high eighties. So, lying awake in my bed while trying to get some sleep, I started to hum the song Carrots and Sticks, a Japanese song with Ukraine and Belarus singing to Russia. For my other story Blood and Bone, I had to look up what Belarus's human last name was, and I found a website with all the information. Scrolling down, I found Ukraine, and it said that the song Carrots and Sticks shows that she may also have romantic feelings towards Russia except she doesn't show it.
…Yeah, it was one of those websites where anyone could edit the information, but that made me pause and think. And then boom-badda-bing! This story came to life
I apologize if this story confuses anyone. If it didn't, I hope you all enjoyed!
(And, yes, the next chapter of Blood and Bone will be coming out very soon!) :D