It had begun with America. The poor man's people were unforgiving as they tore his mind apart, rending him of his virtues and his morals, demeaning his status as the great and unstoppable hero. They took his beloved Freedom and smashed it like glass over his head, turned his own Justice against him, and condemned his Good Will.
In a matter of days, the man known as Alfred F. Jones was stripped of his immortality as the United States of America, and he self destructed.
This tragedy was only the beginning of what grew to become a fear mongering plague. The madness of humans was an all consuming one, and one by one, country after country fell. The world struggled to turn on its axis as the people which dwelled upon it fought to stop its revolution.
Some claimed it was the work of Fate, and they willingly allowed mortality to claim them, but many desperately fought tooth and nail in denial of this phenomena. Those that remained as the numbers dwindled were reduced to treading water in places no one was meant to swim, while fires burned everything on the horizon. And for those that continued to resist, Fate promised them the most bitter end.
Two pairs of feet clumsily skid across the ground, kicking up waves of powdery snow in their wake. Together, the running figures kept low, their dark coats flying like shadows turned to kites in the air behind them. Smoke choked the air, dark plumes stretching forth into the night sky like the greedy fingers of a rich, fat man reaching for a prize which he earned not the right to take. Behind them, the world was ablaze.
The two spectors quickly stole into the trees. With the branches above intertwined so thickly, and the smoke consuming even the moonlight, they were plunged into a night darker than black.
"Natalia, take my hand." The first figure slowed, looking over his shoulder as he stretched his hand behind him. His companion reached out, a slender, gloved hand taking his own. As soon as their fingers were intertwined, they were off again.
They ran at a staggered pace. The only signs to tell of their flight were messy footprints disturbing the snow, and dark stains which fell from hidden wounds on each of their personage. Only the sounds of their footfalls and ragged breaths filled the void of silence that surrounded them.
Eventually, the duo began to slow, for no one could run forever. The figure in the lead was wheezing dreadfully, and his gait was unsteady. He couldn't see well, which was unusual, even in this darkness. He had always been able to see exceptionally well in the absence of light. Perhaps this meant his magic was finally running out.
"Vladimir, watch out!" Natalia hissed, just as he tripped over a root half buried within the snow. They both crashed to the ground in a heap.
Instantly, Natalia was up on her knees. Ignoring the ice which stung her bare skin and the damp chill that now seeped through her clothes, the woman immediately reached to help her partner, who had yet to lift himself up.
"You musn't falter here. Vladimir, get up! Please!"
"Is that worry I hear in your voice, dragă?" Vladimir chuckled weakly as he was rolled over onto his back. For a second his eyes fluttered rolled back, delicate flakes of snow cling to his lashes, as both he and the air surrounding him was much too cold to melt them. "Do not fret, my love, for I am still breathing, am I not?"
She inhaled sharply. "You fool, now's not the time to be wasting your breath on frivolous teasing. We have to get away from here so we can see to your injuries."
"Ah," he sighed. "But what of your injuries, my dear? I will worry for myself once you have been taken care of first."
She was trembling now, but not from the cold. "Vladimir Dragulescu would you please prioritize yourself over me for once in your life?!"
Vladimir smiled wanly at her. "To even think of such an act would be treasonous, my lady."
"According to what law? You're dying, for god's sake!" Natalia gnashed her teeth together, pounding a fist into the snow. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed pricks and flares of a bright, orangish glow.
The man's smile only grew wider. "The law of my own heart, which has named you, Natalia Arlovskaya, as its ruler. And I would not even dream of betraying you, my Queen."
His words only served to increase her panic. While she knew Vladimir was no stranger to brandishing terms of endearment, he only overused them with her whenever he was trying to seduce her, or when he was desperately trying to keep her attention away from whatever he was hiding. Often, neither case was bad, but in this instance, there could only be a horrible outcome. Quickly, before he could even stop her, she had rent his coat apart and was straining to see what wound was so grievous enough he wished to hide it from her.
Her hands trembled as they clutched the edges of his coat, and she slowly sank back. Even in this meager lighting, it was impossible to miss the dark blossom that bloomed from his waist to his armpit. Something warm slipped down her pale, frozen cheek, and for the first time in her entire life, Natalia felt cold.
The snow piled gently around them, the purity of its color tainted by ash and blood. It appeared that Fate was unwilling to let even them outrun her. Fate, Natalia decided, was a cold-hearted bitch.
"No, I don't want to say goodbye," Natalia whispered hoarsely. Frantically, she began to pull at Vladimir's coat, as if bringing him closer would keep him from slipping away forever. "Not now. Not ever!"
"Taci dragă mea," Vladimir cooed. His voice was faint, and frighteningly so. Shaking, he placed his hand on her face, lightly tracing her jawline with his thumb. Natalia leaned into his touch, another tear escaping her. She had already lost Ivan and Katyusha, and now it seemed the universe was going to take the only fool she had been damned to fall in love with. It was too much. Too much.
His hand left her cheek and gently caught some of her hair in his grasp.
"Oh, fair goddess, how silken your locks are; crowned golden on a divine head.
"Now's not the time for your poetry," she choked. Vlad ignored her and continued to speak, his voice growing softer with every word.
"With skin as pale as the snow which glitters in the morn; and your eyes, which are worth more than all the precious gems in the world. How far into the heavens will you look with them?"
Natalia curled in on herself, her forehead coming to rest just mere inches from Vladimir's chest. Her body shook uncontrollably as she tried to contain the sobs. Around them, the flickers of glowing light turned to untameable dancers. The snow began melting as the air around them sweltered hotter and hotter, thinner and thinner.
Vladimir brought the lock of hair to his lips and kissed it as the world around them burned. The fine strands slipped through his fingers as his limbs finally went lax. Natalia's sobs were lost to the roar of the flames.
"Oh, fair goddess, I pray we meet again. Until the next life," he whispered, his eyes closing at last.