Soft flakes of pure snow drifted in through the partially open window of the dark room. Lace curtains fluttered as a gentle breeze the meticulously sown ends gently brushing the light blue covers of the sleeping child's bed. The thick sheets engulfed the child in their warmth, the sleeping boy blissfully unaware as the wind picked up, snowflakes the size of daisy petals dancing through and lightly caressing the porcelain skin of the sleeping redhead.
A soft grunt of indignation broke through his pink tinted lips, the cold of the Russian night finally creeping up to the youth. Small hands grasped onto the thick material of his bed sheets, the tiny muscles attempting to pull them up. More soft whines pulled themselves from the young body, the boy turning in his sleep to try and shut out the building storm.
Minutes passed and the young body dropped back into deep stages of sleep, his mind transporting him to far off places that could only exist in dreams.
0000
The ground beneath the boy shook as the clatter of horse shoes connecting with cobblestone streets filled the air. The crunching of pebbles as heavy wooden wheels rolled over them forming a steady beat to the rhythm of the clacking feet.
The adolescent redhead's head bobbed as the cart swayed. His pointed mop of hair brushing the other passengers, earning him the occasional shove. Grumbled curses in all different languages filled the grimy old box as the boy failed to awaken yet again.
"Sir, the brat wo-ahh!" A young blond boy cried as a fine leather whip cracked against his forearm, blood trickling from the wound as the leather's cracked edges formed uneven patterns on his pale flesh.
"Quiet ya little shit, you're all brats. And what did I tell ya bout English?!" A harsh gruff voice rang from up front. The man owning the unappealing vocals was grubby and small, his grey hair covering his eyes as wrinkles stretched themselves down the side of his mouth, forced to curve around his pipe. All three teeth in his mouth were on show as he chewed on his pipe, his hands too busy with holding the reins and whip to remove the cancerous object from his mouth to speak.
"Apologies Sir" the blond bowed his head, his young mind trying to drag up any Russian it could.
"I told ya to shut up!" The whip cracked again, slicing the boy's arm once more the curling tip rearing back on itself and swiping the redhead across his cheek.
Jolting up cerulean eyes widened in panic as a wetness tricked down his burning cheek. Lifting a tentative hand to his face he brushed over his stinking face, his fingers coming away red and sticky. Staring in horror at the blood tears welled up in his wide eyes.
Eyes that only just took notice of their surroundings.
Surrounding him in a swarm of flies was a gaggle of children. But the only noises they emitted were soft whimpers of fear. The clothes that adorned their bodies were rags held together with string. Stains covered every inch of the rough looking fabric, making the true colour of them impossible to discern.
"W-where am I?" The child asked, a whimper taking over the majority of his voice.
"Hey kid, I'm only sayin' it once. Shut the Hell up!" The driver snapped, sucking on the pipe in his mouth as he spoke.
Not understand much of what the man was speaking the redhead merely nodded.
"Good, boys, wake ya-sen up. We're 'ere"
Swallowing thickly the redhead turned to stare out the wooden bars, forcing his confusion to the back of his mind. He could figure that out later, he couldn't panic; Lord only knows what'd happen to him if he should.
The continuous crackle of horse's feet died down as the cart pulled up in front of a huge stone building. Moss growing down the sides and overgrown weeds attaching themselves to the crumbling brickwork. Heavy rusted iron gates were visible out the corner of his eye, the walls that attached to those spiked iron bars holding back two shouting guard dogs.
A softer crunch of feet on gravel sounded as a bald crown was visible from the window. The latch on the box was unhinged the heavy oak door swinging open as the strain was released from the rope and chipping.
"Alright lads, out" the elderly driver commanded as he stood by two, barely stable, wooden steps.
One by one the boys followed orders stepping down from the coffin and automatically forming a long line in front of the ominous building.
"Wha're ya watin' for?" The driver asked none too nicely to the wide eyed redhead. "Get out, your faul' you're 'ere"
Not daring to ask what he meant he inched himself forward on the splintering wood mindful of his fingers as he was constantly pricked.
It took minutes for him to drop down from his confinement, and despite being glad he was no longer trapped he suddenly wished he were.
The reason for the boy's alignment became very obvious. There before him stood an impossibly tall man shrouded in darkness though the sky was only a murky blue.
As he opened his mouth two full rows of yellow teeth became visible, and though his voice was low and steady it rung loud in the child's ears.
"Welcome boys, I'm Boris, this is Balkov Abbey Penitentiary. Your new home"
I know this is a little strange and may not make complete sense, but hopefully it should soon. So please read review