Life of a Slav
My name is Ivanevich Tsarov, I'm 14 years old, and have a Northern Baltic skin complexion, silver hair and an eye color that can only be described as light gold. I am also 5'9, weigh 120 lbs., and have to be the unluckiest being alive.
You see I'm an orphan, and I've been living on my own for the last 8 years. Living on my own and having no parents isn't the problem though. At night if the moon can break through the dense clouds of Russia, I turn into a wolf. There is a way to control it though; endless hours searching libraries, poring through every werewolf related novel out there had led me to a three word phrase. More on that later.
Admittedly, sometimes I think I am not completely sane. But as I tell myself Life is for living, and Death is for taking. Unnecessary quote over with, now back to the situation at hand.
What I can only describe as Skzraks, fat little hobbish creatures with a gastric problem have been chasing me nearly every night. Driving me northward through the Central Siberian Plateau.
My mother never really caught on to Christianity per say. Her family has been firm pagans for as long as history can tell. She'd tell me all about Slavic Mythology. I loved the times when she told me the story of Prince Marko. It was my favorite.
I blinked down tears, now isn't the time to get sentimental. Back to my predicament, you see at the time I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen. If I had, well… It would have been bad.
Somewhere in Northern Russia, November 13, 2010.
They had me surrounded; you had to give it to them, creative little suckers. Being a tad reckless I had assumed that the Skzraks had no definite plan but they had ambushed me. Fighting back an old Ackbar quote I assessed my situation. Counting at least three dozen of them encircling the dilapidated car I had taken refuge in, no way you're making it out of this one Ivan. Hoping for a break in the clouds I looked upwards.
No luck, a dense cumulus layer lent the eerie plains an ethereal quality. I checked my watch 7:47. I looked towards the horizon, a barely noticeable lighter tinge stood out. The Sun will be up in a few minutes then. Thank Perun. The thing with Skzraks is they don't like the sun but I've seen them sit under cloud cover on those oh so common cloudy days.
A few of them came up and tapped on the window. Startled I jerked my head towards the noise. Locking eyes with it, it shot me an evil smirk. His eyes seeming to know something that I didn't. My confused look only seemed to amuse him even further.
That must mean…
A loud pair of thuds reverberated through the ground shaking the car so violently that my head hit the wall and gashed me across the forehead. Blinking back unconsciousness and a possible concussion I turned to look at the source of the disturbance.
Holy Svarog.