The beginning of this may sound a little weird because I cut off chapter one to make it two chapters.
It was at this time that Xander decided to regain consciousness. He groaned as he lifted his head and and rolled it to the side, cracking his neck, it was sore from sleeping while sitting in bad posture. His head, god it hurt, like someone was pounding on his head in the same way the police would a locked criminals' door. The bright lights of the room he was in did not help this at all. He straightened himself up, his bangs falling out of his eyes. One of the first things he noticed, his hands were behind him, he tried to stretch and found that they were bound by chains. He sat there, thinking of the best way to break them without alerting anyone who happened to be within earshot.
"Ah, you are finally awake." A cheerful, Russia accented voice, cut through his thoughts and he looked around, his eyes focused a large man in front of him. Much taller than himself, this man had to be at least 6'2. He was tall and like most Russian men, he was also big. What made him bigger was the giant beige winter coat he wore. Was that a pink scarf? Well it was close enough to pink for him, it was hard to tell though since it was such a light color. It was wrapped snugly around his neck. Dark purple eyes stared at him through platinum blonde, almost white, hair. The smile of an excited child plastered on his face. Why didn't he sense this man in the room with him before? The man gave off such an ominous aura. Like Alastor, that was why.
He recognized this man as his target,The Russian Federation, aka Ivan Braginski. He'd read enough of the file last night to remember that much.
Last night... That bitch, he was going to get her back for this.
"Yes I am." Xander glared at the other man.
"Why are you so angry?" The Russian man teased him like a child would.
"I woke up chained to a chair and my head hurts like hell, I don't think you would be so cheerful if our positions where reversed." The vampire sneered while testing the strength of the chains binding his hands, satisfied to find out they where steel and not iron, he gave an experimental pull and was rewarded with a small creak. He hoped the man in front of him had bad hearing like most humans, but then he was a nation.
"Probably not." The blonde answered him, a thoughtful look on his face before the smile returned. "But our positions are not reversed so it does not matter, da?" The assassin shrugged as best he could chained up and gave another pull, one link snapped. His hands stilled as he tried to balance the two parts, hoping that nothing fell.
"Tell me, why am I here?" He asked as innocently as he could, smiling at his captor, he'd wait for a good time to run. Patience, he had plenty of that.
Flashback
He'd waited 200 years for this and now it was time, Alastor was going to die and he was overjoyed and yet a part of him was sad that it had come to this and then another part wanted to lock him away and keep him as a slave the same way he was kept. A much younger Xander sat on the king sized bed in his master's room, waiting for him to return from work. The knife he held, stolen from Alastor, was covered in a clear liquid, he kept it behind his back careful not to get any of the liquid on himself, that sure would ruin the surprise. In his head he rehearsed what he was about do, he couldn't loose is courage now. Its too late to stop, like the rippling of water in a still pond, once it is set in action, it cannot be reversed.
He grinned as the sound of a lock and tumblers reached his ears from the other room. He moved silently towards the door to the bedroom, standing right next to it, knife poised to strike. His still beating heart sped up as adrenaline surged through his veins, it was getting harder to stay still. Just as that thought went through his head, the door knob to the bedroom turned and the door opened. Xander's eyes closed as he took a step forward and sliced upwards right where he had predicted Alastor's neck would be. He heard the loud thud of a body hitting the hard wood floor and opened his eyes. As soon as he saw the blonde-orange hair, he knew he'd killed the wrong person.
"James?" Years of planning just went down the toilet for him. He'd killed the wrong person. He had to dispose of the body quickly before the blood stained the floor. Sighing Xander grabbed the legs of the now deceased James and proceeded to drag him through the house to the basement, as he wasn't strong enough to carry all the dead weight. Get it dead weight? Now was not a good time for puns, he told himself even as he chuckled at the stupid joke. He began the tedious chore of chopping the dead man in to pieces so he would fit into the incinerator. Right leg, gone, Left leg, gone. Right hand, gone, right forearm, gone.
The smell of blood permeated the air, it was intoxicating and he wanted a little taste, he would've if he hadn't poisoned the older vampire as well as cutting his throat. Cutting the throat was only fatal if the vampire was weak and James had been far from weak. The liquid that had coated the blade had been holy water. Depending on what kind of priest blesses the water, that determines the effects of it on vampires. And Xander had stolen this from a very high up man in the religious circle.
Xander made quick work of Jame's body and soon had the incinerator going. While the body burned he went upstairs and cleaned up the blood trail from dragging James' body through the house, glad he went no where near the carpeted areas. After cleaning up the blood trail, opening the windows, turning off the incinerator, and lighting candles to mask the smell of blood and vampire ashes, and went back to the bedroom physically exhausted from the day's work and mentally exhausted from the failure of 3 years' planning.
He was almost asleep when the sound of the door being unlocked again reached his ears. He was reminded of his failure once again. It wasn't like he could try again, he didn't have anymore holy water, just the knife itself wasn't enough to-. He cut the thought off as another struck him. The knife! He'd forgotten about it. The half vampire shot straight up. Where did he leave it? In the basement on the table where he'd chopped up James' body. He just hoped that Alastor didn't go down to the basement for any reason.
A noise forced Xander out of his memory, the tinkling sound of a steel chain-link hitting the cement floor. Shit.
Russia had been about to answer the assassin's question, but the when he looked at him. He had this far away look on his face, like he was remembering something that happened a long time ago. He knew what that was like. Back in 1941 when Germany had broken the non-aggression pact between them. It was after he had invaded Poland and gained quite a considerable amount of land, he'd gotten too cocky and thought he could just invade Russia the same way he had Poland. Germany had been very wrong about that.
Flashback
At the front line with the rest of his soldiers a mere twenty miles from his heart, Moscow. Stalin's words still ringing in his ears, All citizens of the Soviet Union must defend every inch of Soviet soil and must fight to the last drop of blood for our towns and villages.
He had thought Germany was his friend, as he didn't have many, and that they would take over the world together but that had not been the case. So now here he was protecting his heart, at the front lines as German after German fell. This was all so familiar, natural, the smell of blood and snow mixing, the freezing wind carrying sounds of pain from the other side as they fell, the sound of the gun he held, its weight, the smell of gun powder. It was like a second home. War was war, its only the technology and how it is done that changes.
A small tinkling sound echoing through the silent room, pushed the memory out of Russia's head and he looked up. The vampire assassin stared back at him, just as surprised as he was. He noticed that the vampire's eyes green gray. Then he moved.
Xander took Russia's surprise as an opportunity to get out of there, in one quick movement, he slipped the chains off his wrist and stood, in the next second he was moving past Russia, or so he thought. The Russian saw him coming and his arm shot out. The assassin ran right in to it getting something close to a close line as his captor threw him back in to the chair that he'd jumped out of only a second ago.
Startled by how fast the other male had moved, Xander looked up at him. Only to see a dark purple aura surrounding him and darkening the room. Russia loomed over him, the grin on his face seeming strained as he leaned down, using the chairs arms the chair to trap him. So much like Alastor..
"You were trying to escape, da?" The smile left Russia's face and he heard a weird kolkol sound. This resemblance to Alastor was really bothering him, even the aura was the same. He backed up as much as the chair would allow before nodding.
"Why? Don't you want to stay and play with Russia?" He asked, the sweet smile back on his face and the intimidating atmosphere dissolving. Xander was taken aback by the sudden change in attitude.
"No I don't. Someone would have to be insane to want to be with you." He glared up at his captor despite his close proximity. And somewhere in the world Belarus sneezed.
A hurt expression replaced Russia's smile and he backed off. He turned and walked to the bottom of the staircase. "We will see." Was all he said before walking calmly up the stairs and closing the door.
So this chapter is full of memories and Xander failing to escape from wherever he is, most likely Russia's basement. Oh and if I'm historically inaccurate, please let me know. I didn't do too much research. Anyways tell me what you think in the form of a review.