A/N:Thanks to The Hobbit Diet for tweaking this chapter. And a thanks to everyone who's reading this story! Give yourselves a pat on the back! :)


"Borys is really running a tight ship over here," Nikolai commented after witnessing the largest Solarii, also another one of Mathias' lieutenants, bark out orders at a group of rookies on the most recent shipwreck. Mathias had made him the head honcho of the beaches and was in charge of directing the cargo operations on each and every wreck that came in. His faction's most important duty was inventory, making sure that the entire vessel was looted and that supplies were sorted according to degree of importance. Food, water, firearms, and ammunition took the highest priority. Clothing, batteries, and electronics were next. Personal hygiene items, blankets, and cookware were considered of lowest importance. Construction materials, like hammers, nails, screws, scrap metal, welding torches, drills, saws, crowbars, etc. were things essential for the growth of civilization on the island, according to Mathias. Anything else that was found that didn't fit into any of those categories was considered an indulgence or a throw-away.

Nikolai continued speaking, "Maybe it'll whip those sorry shits into shape. I know I've said it before, but I wish Mathias had given me Borys' job. He's distant from every other camp on the island, has an amazing view of the water, and best of all, he doesn't have Mathias prowling around here all the time. He's got it made. Have any of you been to see him lately?"

"No," Dmitri shook his head, his long hair literally swinging from side to side. The last time Dmitri had seen Borys was maybe a month ago. It was hard to keep track of the days. Most people did it by marking tallies on a wall as a makeshift calendar.

"We should," Nikolai said reflectively, listening to their footsteps echoing off the metal stairway while they descended below the main deck. "Sometimes I feel guilty. He probably gets bored being out here day after day with no one to talk to."

"He has the breaker crew," Dmitri suggested half-heartedly.

"That's not the same and you know it. It's not like he can talk to those cowards. Most of them are too afraid to hold a normal conversation with him. I feel for the poor bastard."

"We're not all to blame," Dmitri defended. "He's a workaholic. He could make time to see us once in a while. It's not like he can't."

"I guess," Nikolai sighed, attempting to release the pent-up guilt.

They began to search the numerous rooms, offices, stockrooms, and other areas. Truth be told, Nikolai just wanted to stretch his legs a bit and do some basic scavenging. Being holed up in the fortress that surrounded the palace in the middle of the island with dozens of men had been more hellish than usual for the past few days and he had been keeping an eye out for any excuse to get away from the hellhole.

"So, Vladimir," Nikolai addressed the dark-haired man, whom had been silent thus far, "that was a rambunctious crew you rounded up last night." Vladimir grunted in agreement. Recalling the events of the previous night, Nikolai almost began laughing, "That fat one that told off Mathias, I knew he was going to get it. And I almost burst out laughing when the runt next to him began to piss his pants. That was the most entertaining bunch we've had in quite some time. How many ended up being tossed in the pit?" Nikolai asked Dmitri since he was the one in charge of the caverns beneath the Japanese palace. The palace resided on the eastern side of the island and has been serving as the Solarii's headquarters for the past fifteen years or so. Mathias had chosen it because of its vantage point, so that he could access any point or camp on the island in record time. So, it went without saying, whenever he called for a surprise inspection, it was not fun. The stronghold also served as protection, as they weren't the only inhabitants on the miniscule piece of land. Himiko's undead warriors still patrolled and guarded her tomb and they didn't take kindly to visitors. There were a few times Mathias had ordered his own men into the ancient monastery for examination, only for them to be killed or run out by the Sun Queen's immortal soldiers. As long as the two groups kept their distance from each other, there would be peace. Every now and then however, the Solarii leader ordered some followers to go back into the hermitage to gather some information, which would then cause an uproar with the immortals and result in deaths or injuries to the scavengers. But it's been a while since something like that has happened.

Dmitri responded with, "Six. And now their guts are probably scattered all over down there." He sighed, imagining how horrible the newfound stench would be when he returned to his domain later tonight. If male survivors that were brought here by the wrecks were thought to fit the criteria for being a Solarii, they were thrown into the caverns and left there to fend for themselves. Sometimes it was for days; sometimes weeks. It differed for every person, depending on his mental capacity and willpower. By doing this, the humanity in them would slowly degrade as it became harder to survive until it would simply cease to exist. The majority of prisoners would starve, go insane, and/or die. Many of them turned cannibalistic, eating anything alive that came into their presence. But if they did manage to survive that brutal hell with their broken minds still somewhat intact, Mathias would build them up again with his Sun Queen propaganda and they would become indoctrinated into the brotherhood, being given a specific duty and following the priest unconditionally.

"Shame," Nikolai shook his head disapprovingly at the thought of human innards sprawled all over the cave floor. "At least we got two women out of it, though," he mentioned on a lighter note.

"I heard it mentioned that there were four…" Dmitri looked accusingly back at Vladimir, whom, in turn, glowered at him.

"There were? What happened?" Nikolai asked, going into what looked like a lavatory.

"Only three," Vladimir corrected before Dmitri could say anything more. "One of them was too much. She wouldn't shut up. Killed her before we got to the palace."

"Well, damn…" Nikolai sighed, rummaging through a crowded cabinet. "At least Mathias picked one of them so we can have a ceremony tonight. Are both of you going?"

"I am," Dmitri shrugged.

"What about you, Vladimir?"

Vladimir pretended to not hear the question. A red, blinking light further down the hallway caught his attention and he went to it. Standing directly under it, he looked to his left to see a room with the door ajar. There were bunk beds in it.

"Vlad?" Nikolai called out again.

"No," he finally replied loudly to make sure his voice was heard down the corridor.

"Why not?"

"Yeah. Why not?" Dmitri smirked and leaned against the doorframe of the restroom, already knowing the reason.

"I've got a card game with the guys," Vladimir answered quickly and stepped into the room with the unmade bunks before they could bombard him with more questions. The room had probably housed some of the women because it was jam-packed with possessions. One thing he's learned after salvaging all these years is that women always packed a lot more belongings than men; essential and luxury items, like clothes, books, cosmetics, medications, toiletries, and more. The scavengers' faces would light up like Christmas morning whenever they would find even the simplest items, such as a travel size shampoo bottle, nail clippers, shaving cream, lotion, a compact mirror, an interesting book, or a chocolate bar.

There were suitcases crammed into the space between the wall and beds. Vladimir slid them out and unzipped them, but found only ladies' clothes. Moving to the closet, he swiped through the garments that hung on the hangers at lightning speed, scanning for any size larger than a small, but there was nothing. He kicked at the pairs of shoes that were lying overturned on the floor, but he could tell everything was too miniscule. There was nothing that could fit a man of his size.

He moved on to delving through the beds and stepped onto the bed frame to reach the top bunk and ripped the sheets from the mattress. Many people liked to hide their intimate things where they slept, such as pictures, journals, or drugs; occasionally one would even find an erotic magazine and then have some fun with it later. Going through the bunk, Vladimir found an empty plastic water bottle and a discarded brassiere. He pinched the straps of it as though it was diseased and held it up against his chest. He scrunched his face in awkwardness and tossed it with the rest of the linens onto the floor. Some other worker would probably find it shortly, stuff it into his pocket, and then use it at his leisure if he had the imagination for it. Moving on down to the bottom bunk, Vladimir drew back the covers and prodded at the mattress.

Nothing.

He picked up the pillow and something slid out from the casing. Vladimir retrieved the item and discovered it to be a rosary. He hung it in front of him at eye-level and stared at the crucifix. It made him think about the girl last night; how she had asked him if he had believed in God. Back when he and his comrades had first gotten marooned on this island almost twenty years ago (a roundabout estimate), he used to think that someone or something greater was looking out for them and they would somehow be saved. But after all this time being stranded here with no hope or sign that they were even going to be rescued, he realized it was foolish to think that some "God" was going to get them off this rock. Vladimir scowled and hurled the rosary into the open closet. It collided against the back wall with a rattled thwack and slid down into the heap of shoes. Stupid! All of that was stupid! Faith, hope, the girl…He was doomed to spend the rest of his life here.

But if he thought about it, what did he actually have to go home to? Prison had been his home back in Russia and will always be his home on this island. And nothing was going to change that.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Vladimir went to the desk that was cluttered with textbooks, notepads, and pencils. Opening the top drawer, he found some papers with diagrams of sharks and examined them curiously, trying to read the small English words in the margins of the pages. Even though he was bilingual to some degree, he didn't recognize many of the words. Heck, he had picked up most of the English language over the years from the men on the island. Mathias often corrected his broken English when he was in the beginning stages of learning the tongue and would scold him whenever he used vulgar words that he had learned from various workers' casual conversations, saying that civilized people shouldn't speak with that kind of vocabulary. Vladimir would then roll his eyes for being treated like a child and dismiss the priest's condescending tone with a huff.

"'A card game with the guys'?"

Vladimir started and bumped his knee hard enough into the desk to cause a potential bruise. He raised his head to see Dmitri leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest.

"That's what you came up with?" Dmitri asked, seemingly unimpressed. Vladimir's eyes tailed him as he wandered into the cabin and passed the mirror that hung on the outside of the closet door.

Looking into the mirror, he frowned and commented, "Damn…I look like shit…" He rubbed the dirt off his face and ran his fingers through his oily, unkempt, dirty blond hair. Vladimir went back about his business, flipping through a biological textbook just to keep his mind busy. The silence was almost too much for the small room to handle.

"You know it's not good to keep secrets around here, brother," Dmitri finally spoke again, grabbing a purple hairbrush from the accessory organizer hanging on the inside of the door and grooming his hair and lengthy beard with it. Vladimir snapped the large book closed with an irritated sigh.

"It's fine," he replied, hinting that this topic was not up for discussion.

"No. It's not," Dmitri countered, setting the brush down. "You know what's going to happen if this goes any further. Somebody's going to rat you out and Mathias will take the girl away. He'll be disappointed in you and then, because I'm in on your little escapade now, I'm going to take the rap for it too," Dmitri fussed and looked down at the floor where something shiny caught his eye. He picked it up and examined it closely.

"What's that?" asked Vladimir, craning his neck forward. Dmitri rotated the small, flat, rectangular object in his hands, the light shining off of its metallic backside.

"I think it's one of those things that plays music. The men talk about them all the time, always saying they wished they had one. They say it's called an 'I…I-something'." He searched for a button and found one on the top corner. He pressed it and waited, but nothing happened. "Stupid piece of junk," he sighed and tossed it onto the table, but accidently grazed one of the options on the touch screen in the process and the sound of a shredding electric guitar suddenly overtook the room at full blast.

"Turn it off!" Vladimir slammed his palm down on the desk.

Dmitri picked up the device and frantically pressed the power button repeatedly, but it wouldn't turn off. "Dammit! It won't—"

Vladimir snatched the trinket from him and smashed it on the desk repeatedly until it died. "There…" he sighed in relief.

"Gee, thanks," Dmitri told him sarcastically. "I could have used that, you know? Or traded it for some smokes."

Vladimir grunted as a sign that he didn't care and crouched to the floor to search for anything underneath the desk.

Nothing.

He whipped his head away in frustration and that's when his eye caught sight of some kind of container beneath the bottom bunk. He honed in on it and slid out what looked to be a gun case.

Jackpot!

He opened it and what was revealed was immaculate. He grazed his fingers against the wood grain and the cold metal of a long rifle. Desperately wanting to feel its weight, he pulled it out and caressed the barrel and scope like it was a young babe. Peering back into the case, he saw a colorful box of ammunition that was also included. How great was this shipwreck?! It brought him a young, compliant woman AND a rifle with ammunition! He wondered what other surprises could still be hiding around here.

"Good find," Dmitri commented begrudgingly, still in a sour mood over the smashed music player. Vladimir tilted the rifle back and forth to examine it more before pushing the stock into his shoulder to get a feel for it. Bitterness still brewing within him, Dmitri changed the subject. "So, when are you handing over the girl?"

"Would you relax?" Vladimir said lazily, gazing into the scope. "She's not what Mathias is looking for, so you can get off my ass."

"You don't know that. She might be," Dmitri argued.

Vladimir lowered the rifle into his lap and gave him a heated look. "No. You still don't get it, do you? All of that is bullshit," he spat.

Dmitri shook his head and ignored Vladimir's pessimistic declaration. "Mathias has been saying that the One is coming any day now. That girl could be it."

Vladimir rolled his eyes and rose to his feet, "He's been saying that for the past ten years. Trust me. It's not this girl. It's not any girl. There is no 'Chosen One'," he slung the gun over his shoulder and pushed past his brother to exit the room.

Dmitri pivoted on his heel, "If you don't give her to Mathias, Vladimir, I'll…I'll…" he trailed off.

Vladimir turned back to him. "You'll what? Make me?" he sneered and used the tips of his fingers to lightly push him back.

Dmitri glared at him, desperately wanting to give him a good punch in the face. "Don't make this hard. You had your fun last night. Just turn her in."

Vladimir got mere inches from his face and spoke in a low, ominous growl, "Why don't you fuck off, huh? I'll do what I want," he turned and walked down the hallway.

Dmitri sighed in exasperation and caught up with him, trying his best to be patient. "Look, I want to get off this damned island and I know you do too. And you're not helping by holding that girl hostage."

Vladimir disregarded him.

"Vlad—" Dmitri put a hand on his shoulder to turn him around, but Vladimir pushed him back. Dmitri scowled and pushed him and Vladimir shoved him into the metal wall with a snarl, causing a ruckus.

"Hey!" Nikolai came up the stairs from the lower level. "What's going on up here?"

The other two Russians continued glaring daggers at one another, not bothering to look at their eldest brother.

"What're we fighting about today?" Nikolai questioned, like he was a teacher that had to break up a fight between two school children.

Still, neither one answered him.

"C'mon, if this is about whose dick is the largest, we already had this discussion and agreed that it's mine."

Both Vladimir and Dmitri finally took their eyes off of each other and both gave him a look of annoyance. They also noticed that he had shaved, trimmed, and shaped some of his facial hair because the edges looked a lot cleaner, especially around his moustache.

"You find anything?" Vladimir asked, seeing that he was carrying a small bag in his right hand.

"While you two were standing idly by and chit-chatting, I actually got some work done and searched an office. That's where I found this," Nikolai held up a pistol in his left hand. "And this ship even has a laboratory downstairs. It has a lot of chemicals and from looking at some of the labels, a few are poisonous. The crew is going to round them up later. Might be useful to go along with some weaponry. Just imagine putting some poison on the tip of an arrow and down goes your target in an instant. And would you believe this place has a walk-in freezer too? The men found a dead shark strung up in there along with some medical tools. Seems like it was awaiting an autopsy. From the looks of everything, my guess is that this was a research ship," he concluded proudly. He noticed the firearm dangling around Vladimir's shoulder and nodded at it. "Good find."

"How big is the shark?" Dmitri wondered.

Nikolai turned to him, "A few hundred pounds, at least. The bastard's got some ugly teeth," he smiled. "Some guys are cutting it down and will harvest it tonight. They said we could come back tomorrow to get a taste if we wanted. And look what I found," he grinned and opened the knapsack, letting his brothers see its contents: three bottles of bourbon whiskey.


The sun maybe had an hour or two left of its life by the time the three Russians were walking back through the forest with their newly scavenged items. It was quiet in the woods when they heard a snapping sound, making them halt instantly. It could have been anything: a tree limb falling, a rabbit, a deer, a wolf, another Solarii, a rogue survivor—anything. All three of them put a hand over their guns in anticipation.

Finally, a wail broke the intense silence. A deer appeared from out of the brush, at least fifty feet away, but then quickly retreated back into it. It would be the perfect opportunity to try out the new hunting rifle that was slung around Vladimir's shoulder. And fresh meat was always a welcome addition to their usual menu, which mostly consisted of canned, processed, or dried food. Vladimir fished around in his coat pocket for the ammunition he stole from the wreck and loaded the gun, inserting five cartridges into the magazine. He got down on one knee in the grass and waited for any sign of movement while his brothers lowered themselves to the ground as well and kept scanning the brush, their eyes raking back and forth.

Vladimir eventually spotted the deer cautiously emerging out from behind the flora and immediately took a shot, the noise shattering the serenity of the environment. It was a miss.

"Damn, you better get it or the last thing you'll be seeing is its ass," Dmitri quietly mocked.

Growling, Vladimir swiftly jammed the lever action forward to make the empty cartridge shoot out the side of the gun with a metallic clink and then retracted it to load another bullet into the chamber. He forcefully wrapped the sling around his arm in haste for a steadier shot. The deer was steadily fleeing and Vladimir whistled loudly, making it stop dead in its tracks to locate the source of the new sound—a little trick he had learned from one of the working grunts, one whom many had labelled as a "redneck". The animal wildly turned in circles with its ears forward and erect, unsure of what to do at this point. Vladimir took advantage of the momentary pause and fired a second shot into the deer's back. It let out a cry as it crashed into the ground.

"You got it," Dmitri said, standing back up to his full height. Vladimir silently walked towards the animal and Dmitri hissed after him, "What are you doing?! You're supposed to wait."

Vladimir approached the hind to see its flank rising and falling at a rapid pace. There was dark, crimson blood mixed into the light brown hair on its back. The deer's breathing became even more spastic when he got closer, only being a yard away now. It gave him a snort and a kick with its back leg to ward him off, but Vladimir took out his pistol and aimed at the animal. Agony and terror filled its dark brown eyes.

"Vlad—" he heard Dmitri approach from behind and then shot four consecutive rounds at the hind's head, splattering bits of skull and brain onto the grass. Vladimir kept the gun in its position, almost debating whether or not he should shoot Dmitri now. It wouldn't be a fatal shot, just in the arm or the shoulder. It would only be enough to make him not snitch.

No. He shouldn't make a scene. If he did, then everyone would want to know why he shot his brother. He pursed his lips and gradually lowered his arm. Nikolai joined them.

"You okay, broth—" he paused upon seeing the deer's mutilated cranium. "Damn, you've got a mess there."

Vladimir sighed. He knew he was going to have to clean it up. That was the rule: whoever killed it, cleaned it.

"Who has a knife?" he asked his two companions. Nikolai pulled a hunting knife out of the knapsack.

"Just found this one," he handed the weapon to him. It appeared to have seen some use, but it couldn't have been older than a few years. Vladimir positioned himself at the rear end of the deer and flipped it onto its back.

"Hold the legs," he ordered the two other men and they stood on either side of the animal, grabbing a front and back leg in each hand and pulling them away from the body. Vladimir stooped down and made an incision along the belly up to its chest. He was tying off each end of the digestive track to prevent any contents from escaping when Nikolai spoke up.

"Save the liver. We can eat it when we get back."

Vladimir grunted in reply, his hands full of blood. Deer liver was pretty good. Deer heart was also excellent. He would save that too. After disconnecting the organs from the body walls, Vladimir rolled the dead deer onto its side and the entrails slid out onto the slope along with a pool of blood. The wolves would thank him later for such a feast. He wrapped the venison liver and heart in a cloth and stuffed it into the knapsack. Bringing out some rope, he tied it around the torso of the deer and it was ready to be taken back to the village.

Nikolai walked in front, Dmitri in the middle, and Vladimir brought up the rear, dragging the carcass across the ground. Looking back and seeing Vladimir a considerable distance behind, Nikolai motioned to Dmitri.

"Make sure he doesn't give himself a heart attack," he mumbled, pointing his thumb back at the man behind them. Dmitri glanced behind to see Vladimir working like a mule to tow the dead animal along with the extra weight of the hunting rifle slung around his torso. In all, what he was hauling was well over a hundred pounds.

"I think he's fine," Dmitri said with coldness.

"C'mon," Nikolai persisted, pulling a bottle of liquor from the bag. "I'm the oldest out of all of us. I'm supposed to watch out for the both of you." He undid the screw top and took a swig. Dmitri hung his head and sighed in defeat. He waited for his dark-haired brother to catch up and began walking alongside him.

"What do you want?" Vladimir muttered, expecting another attempt at persuasion.

"Nothing." Dmitri stared at the deer's disfigured head. It looked as though someone had smashed it with a mallet. Membranes, muscle, and bone were exposed and the carcass was picking up dirt and mud as it slid across the ground. "Messy kill," he commented.

Vladimir spoke with a hint of hostility, "Maybe I wanted it that way."

Dmitri picked up on his tone. "What? You thought of me when you shot that thing all those times?! Are you seriously that pissed off at me?!"

"I made it quick," Vladimir defended.

Dmitri rolled his eyes and made an exasperated sigh. "C'mon, Vlad. This isn't my fault. Just do what you're supposed to and bring the girl to Mathias for Christ's sake! And then maybe you can stop acting like this."

"Like what?" Vladimir whipped his head to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"Like…I don't know. Like an ass. You're keeping the girl and it's not doing anyone any good. It's being selfish is what it is."

"Quit being a kiss-ass and mind your own damn business," Vladimir spat and got a better grip on the rope.

The derogatory comment made Dmitri frown. "You remember what Mathias says about the women? They go to the Oni or the ritual. That's it. Nothing else and no exceptions."

Vladimir argued, "She's a nobody; a defenseless, little pet, capable of nothing. She knows her place."

"Oh? And where's that? Under you; getting fucked? You have to think this through, Vlad. And not just about what Mathias would do if he found out. What if the girl tries something in your sleep, such as—oh, I don't know—killing you?! She needs to be kept under more watchful eyes."

"My damn eyes are fine," Vladimir shot back hotly.

"But what if she's the Chosen One? I'm trying to get through to you, brother. I really am. If she's the One, we can go home. You remember home, right? With beds, electricity, food, showers, and as many girls as you liked. If you bring the girl to Mathias and she actually passes the test, we can get all of that back. Don't you miss it?"

Vladimir turned to him in disbelief. "You think I don't?! I'm sick of this goddamn place! It's been twenty fucking years and we're not any closer to getting off this fucking island than when we first got here! So, get this through your thick skull: we're not going back. Not ever. There is no Chosen One. So, get off my goddamn back." He gripped the rope even harder and walked faster.

Dmitri increased his own pace to keep up. "You doubt Mathias?" he interrogated. "You doubt what he told us from the beginning? About salvation?"

Vladimir halted and fully faced him, nearly at the end of his fuse. "Nothing's. Coming. Brother. No girl and no fucking spirit of a queen is going to save us. And don't be a hypocrite. You know none of that shit is real."

"I told you already, I don't know what to think anymore," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Mathias keeps telling us these things and, in my mind, I know it's total bull. But a small part of me still wonders if all what he says is true."

"Maybe in his own mind," Vladimir snorted and began walking again.

"C'mon, Vlad. Crazy or not, he trusts us. It's what's kept us alive all this time. And we need to keep it that way. What's the harm in giving up the girl?"

Vladimir paused for a moment before answering. "He'll take her from me." He realized how childish that sounded when the words left his mouth and felt a tinge of embarrassment.

Dmitri let out an annoyed huff. "What's so special about this one?"

Vladimir whipped his head away to focus on the ground in front of him. "…Nothing."

Dmitri stared at him intensely now, wondering what was going through the man's head. An idea came to his mind and it was so ridiculous, but he had to make sure what he was about to ask was not actually happening. "You're not falling for her, are you?"

Vladimir snorted again and rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face. "You're hilarious, you know that?" he told him in amusement. "I just admire her purity. It's refreshing."

"Look, I know you want to—you know—from time to time. We all do. But maybe you should just give her up. For everybody's sake. I mean, she's never going to replace—"

Vladimir instantly glowered. "Shut up. You don't know anything," he snarled and walked ahead again, conveying that he no longer wanted to talk.

Dmitri glared after him. It was just like Vladimir to say something like that to him. The man thought he was superior to him. Before they had all got shipwrecked on this island, Vladimir and Nikolai had known each other pretty well. They had done a couple of jobs together back home in Russia for the black market and were even incarcerated for some time in the same prison, so needless to say, they had become fast acquaintances. When they had signed up for this one exporting job, Dmitri and Borys just happened to be on the same ship. Then when the storm hit, they all became stranded here together. And after Mathias had killed off the ones who wouldn't accept his "truth" about this island, the remaining men of the Russian crew became close. As time progressed, the group began to thin out, dropping dead one by one like flies when they demonstrated that they couldn't follow Mathias' orders. And pretty soon, it was just Nikolai, Vladimir, Dmitri, and Borys left. At first, Dmitri felt like an outsider, not being included in Vladimir and Nikolai's friendship, but over time, both he and Borys earned their trust and they formed a tight-knit circle. They became a sort-of family, calling each other "brother". And better yet, Mathias gave all four of them the rank of lieutenant, becoming his most trusted men. Dmitri had learned a few things about Vladimir's past from Nikolai and, to say the least, the man had a loose screw in his head somewhere. It was almost like he didn't have to learn savagery for life out here; he was born already knowing it. And it often made him wonder how much humanity was really left in the man's heart, if any at all.


Once back at the mountain village, Vladimir, Dmitri, and Nikolai headed toward the old underground bunker. The Solarii stored their perishables down there because of the cooler temperatures and it kept the wolves from stealing all of their hard-earned meat.

"It's getting close to sunset. We shouldn't stay too much longer," Nikolai mentioned. Dmitri watched Vladimir continue to drag the deer.

"We'll help him with that," he nodded towards the carcass, "eat a little, and then leave."

They reached the ladder that descended into the bunker and Vladimir lowered the dead animal to the ground first before descending down the ladder himself with Nikolai and Dmitri following him. The smell hit them first. It reeked of decaying flesh and spoiled meat. Flies were buzzing around continuously.

The three Russians lifted the deer carcass together and carried it down the tunnel to prevent it from getting contaminated by the grimy water that permanently laid puddled on the ground. Only a handful of torches sitting in sconces lit their way.

They reached the main area that contained the foul odors and the lighting increased due to the large number of candles. After making an incision through the tarsals of the deer's back legs, they hung the carcass on two vacant hooks protruding from the ceiling. Nikolai and Vladimir began the skinning process while Dmitri kept a flashlight on them. Within five minutes, the hide was completely stripped off and Vladimir laid it on a table, fur-side down, scraped off whatever flesh was left, and then salted the hide to dry it. He slid the flat part of the knife across his pant leg to remove the fur and bits of flesh from the blade before retrieving the liver and heart from Nikolai's bag to clean them.

Nikolai handed a bottle of whiskey to Dmitri, whom opened it and downed a shot. He pursed his lips as he felt the liquid burn as it slid down his throat. He hadn't had anything this strong in a while.

"You think this'll be the One?" he mumbled quietly, watching Vladimir work.

"What?" Nikolai wondered.

"The girl in the ritual tonight. You think she'll be the 'key'?"

"Pffft. Who knows?" Nikolai shrugged his shoulders. "At this point, Mathias is just buying his time. I wouldn't get my hopes up. The rituals are good entertainment at best." He drank another mouthful of liquid out of his bottle and turned his head to Vladimir. "Hurry up, Vlad. The smell is starting to get to me," he fussed, waving his hand in front of his face and grimacing at some of the rotting meat on the ground next to a pile of bones.

Once Vladimir finished preparing the organs, they exited the bunker, went to an already-made fire, and placed the food in a cast iron skillet on top of the flames. The sizzle of cooking meat made their mouths water. It smelled like heaven. After turning a golden brown, the offal was ready to be devoured.

"It was good to get out of that hellhole for a change," Nikolai grabbed a small portion of the sliced liver. "Mathias has been breathing down my neck more than usual lately. I swear, the older he gets, the more his mind…" Nikolai twirled his finger in a circle around his ear and whistled, implying the man's descent into insanity. "I'm still surprised nobody's turned against him yet. That old bastard's never going to die." He took another swig of booze.

"No, he's just going to carry on and on one day and that'll be the day you snap and shoot him," Dmitri mumbled, adjusting a charred log with his foot.

"Yeah," Nikolai sighed and tsked. "It'll be like putting down an old dog. And then after that, I'll be the one in charge."

"Who says you get to be leader?" Dmitri questioned.

"It's a law of nature," Nikolai responded matter-of-factly. "The authority goes to the oldest. And because I'm his first Solarii."

Dmitri scoffed at that.

"What? You want to fight me for it?" Nikolai challenged.

"Humph. No."

"We're the ones controlling everything right now, for the most part. It's not like it would be much different. I would change a few things, though," he suggested, taking another piece of meat.

"Like what?" Dmitri reached for some of the cooked heart, but Vladimir slapped his hand away.

"Mine," Vladimir mumbled under his breath when Dmitri gave him a cross look.

"These women," Nikolai answered. "They shouldn't have to be treated so harshly. If they want to live, they would have to agree to service us. Seems a lot more merciful than just giving them the death sentence. I don't think Mathias understands that we need to do it sometimes. It would be a release. And then everyone would be a lot calmer. Like right now, Mathias won't even let us put a finger on the one he chose for tonight. God forbid we so much as touch her waist."

"Yeah, or anything else," Dmitri gave a sideways glance to Vladimir, whom glared back and kept silent.

"It's gotten so bad that sometimes I swear I can smell a woman, even if she's not in the same room," Nikolai droned on and glanced at the leftover meat in the skillet. With his mind still on food, he continued, "There's this one guy that's been puking his guts out for a few days now. I don't know if he's still battling the cholera or if he ate something rancid, but he can't hold anything down, food or water. Mathias said to kill him if he keeps wasting supplies."

"He worked today?" Dmitri asked, leaning back against a tree.

"He switched to the nightshift. The hot sun was getting to be too much for him. Poor bloke. He's one of the good workers too."

Vladimir let out a sigh at this useless chatter. He wanted the two men to leave so that he could turn in for the night.

"What's with you?" Nikolai raised an eyebrow.

"Restless," he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

"Why?"

Dmitri answered before Vladimir had the chance to. "He misses his…"

Vladimir gave him his most infuriated look yet. Dmitri caught his eye and sighed internally. He was getting weary of receiving the pissed off looks and the death threats all day long. He really didn't want to leave things on a bad note with the man tonight, so he decided to give in. If what Vladimir had said about the girl was true, then she was nothing more than a casual fling. Vladimir would soon grow tired of her and eventually turn her over to Mathias; and then the two of them would be on good terms once again. They may have bickered and had their fair share of pissing contests in the past, but they had never taken it too far. They were brothers; maybe not blood brothers, but close enough.

"…sister," Dmitri finished, "if you know what I mean."

Nikolai gazed into the fire and nodded. "Oh, yeah. Anya," he bowed his head and sighed heavily. "She was a pretty little thing."

Vladimir shortly interrupted, wanting to bring this gathering to a close. "Shouldn't you both get going? It's almost sunset," he quickly said, grabbing the cooked heart and wrapping it in the bloody cloth.

"Yeah, I guess so," Nikolai agreed and got up from the crate where he had been sitting. "Well, cheers to Himiko, little Miss Sunshine herself. May she keep Mathias under her spell and continue making our lives a miserable hell," Nikolai joked, brought his drink up, and they all clanked their bottles together. "See you around, Vlad. Let's go, Dmitri."

"Humph, good luck," Vladimir sneered and the trio spilt off into opposite directions.

Dmitri shadowed Nikolai, but looked back at Vladimir. Knowing what the man was on his way to go do made him grimace. He knew Vladimir was peeved at him, but he didn't want to let the situation get out of hand.

Most of the time, Vladimir was a strong, reliable, and authoritative man, but he had his "moments". Everyone around here did, either out of rebellion or insanity. It was actually to be expected after being stuck in one place for years on end, stripped to nothing and having to start life over only using the basic necessities. Not to mention having a demented man like Mathias running the whole place with everyone under his thumb. Heck, even Dmitri had the occasional "episode". Once, after he had witnessed yet another failed ritual, he had stormed through the caverns, clutched onto the bars of the door that led to the pit, and let out a long, enraged scream. Then, he kicked open said door, grabbed the first prisoner he could find, and beat the man until he could no longer move. Needless to say, the prisoner didn't make it through the night; the other captives took advantage of his vulnerability and had consumed him within minutes. So whether this "phase" Vladimir was going through was out of insanity or simple rebellion, Dmitri wasn't certain. It was probably best to let the situation work itself out on its own: Vladimir would get caught within the next couple of days and the girl would be handed over to Mathias; simple as that. There was no reason for him to get involved. The men loved to talk and rumors usually spread like wildfire around here. But he was not going to be a complete pushover about the situation. If no one ratted his brother out within, say, three days, then Dmitri would have to step in and take control. He would just tell Mathias that he "stumbled" upon the girl one day in Vladimir's domain. And then, his brother would receive the proper penalty as he should. Punishments around here ranked from a simple slap on the wrist all the way up to death, sometimes even worse than that. And keeping a woman from Mathias certainly called for a severe punishment, possibly even a death sentence.