Russia Memoirs Part 3

Ivan Braginski (Russia) Memoirs.


Chapter Two:
General Winter's Gift


After the long and exhausting trip back to Russia, all Ivan wanted to do was fall asleep and hope beyond hope that his dream wouldn't be tainted by blood again. But, with a sigh, Ivan decided to head back to his house in Moscow before one of his tenants worried themselves silly over him. Well, "worry" wasn't exactly the right word; it was more of a when-will-Russia-be-back-so-I-can-prepare-myself-for-him kind of deal.

Ivan shared his house with the three Baltic countries, three different nations with three different origins. They were Toris of Lithuania, Raivis of Latvia, and Eduard of Estonia, and they feared him like no other. The Baltics depended on his support and power least their empires collapsed and they were friendless. They constantly worried that, one day, Ivan would turn against them and ruin their lives, so the three opted to please the all-mighty Russia and remain on his good side.

Sometimes, however, no matter what they did, Ivan couldn't help but unleash his wrath upon one of them. Maybe it was the cruelty in his heart, or the way they always trembled when they stared into his eyes, but Ivan found one way or another to torture them whenever he visited the house.    

But that day, as he continued his slow walk towards Moscow, Ivan considered the Baltics' situation. They really, really needed him; he was willing to provide them with a home. A home that, in truth, he never really lived in much. But the things he did, the aura he cast upon the house, was almost liken to bullying. I, Ivan paused and thought in surprise, am a bully? He had never really admitted it, never imagined that the things he said, the way he said them, and the actions he took could ever be called bullying.  

Ivan glanced upward at the increasingly dark sky. Only a few more miles until he reached his estate in Moscow. Once there, everything would be routine. He would have to endure the look of terror in the eyes of others when they saw his massive form, endure the way they always talked about him behind his back, whispering words that stung and pricked his heart.

Once there, he would have to be careful not to let the beast run loose and tear everything and everyone apart.

And I must learn to treat my "союзников" better.   
    
--

When he finally reached the large house that he shared with Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia, it was late evening and the snow was coming down in a torrent. The wind blew so roughly that Ivan had to plant his feet with each step or be lifted into the air and sky. He was relieved when he found the door unlocked.   

"Privet! I am back," Ivan called as he entered the house, brushing flakes of frost off his head. He tried to make the smile on his face heart-felt. "I am back, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia!"

Ivan waited a second for them to rush down and greet him. When nothing stirred, he just shrugged and entered the kitchen. Ivan wasn't expecting much from the three- he had disappeared for about two weeks without so much as a notice. It was true that he didn't live in this house very much. Before he'd met the Baltic countries, Ivan hadn't even considered the possibility of building any sort of structural… confinement to waste his life away in. Outside, in the constant cold, was where he usually spent his days, where he usually walked aimlessly round and about, and then fell flat to the ground and slept. Now, even with a building to "come home" to, Ivan still found himself wandering in the wilderness. Sometimes months on end.

"I will just find something to eat then," Ivan tried loudly, his voice echoing around the emptiness. "Если вам это интересно," he added a bit ruefully. The kitchen was spotless, as usual; Lithuania knew how to manage it to perfection, and his cooking was just as splendid.

There wasn't much to eat that night, so Ivan settled for leftover soup in the fridge. As he sat down, the silence in the room deepened and only the humming of the refrigerator kept him from going insane. And then, the wind howling on the window, almost like a knock, was what made him realize it. Ivan froze in the middle of swallowing, his lavender eyes widened. Suddenly, the spoon in his hand fell to the floor and in one swift movement, he was at the window.

It's… tonight.

His eyes hastily peered out to the wilderness. It was a pitch-black wasteland, with only the dark snow staining the ground. Outside, a blue blizzard was raging. Outside, the wind was pounding against the wall, clawing its way across the boundless Russian snow. And outside, General Winter was racing towards him.

Ivan had avoided him for the week in Manchester. He had avoided him for the three days coming back to Moscow. But now, General Winter would make up for the lost time. And, dear God, it frightened Ivan to no ends. The nightmares would become worse- they always were when General Winter visited -and this time, when he woke up, he would find blood all over his clothes. Blood that wasn't his.

The watery soup began to taste sour in his mouth. Tasted like metallic iron. Ivan jerked his chair out of the way and shoved the bowl off the table. It cracked against the wall, the liquid slowly sliding down onto the floor.

"Пожалуйста, нет," Ivan moaned as a headache drilled into his skull. His hands clenched automatically until blue veins popped over his skin.

His mind replayed the words the General always whispered to him when he came. "General Winter is here, братец," he'd say in Ivan's ear. "I have helped you. Helped you win your little wars, helped you bathe in the crimson liquid of your enemies, as they lay dying on this snowy land. And in return, you will let me play with you for awhile. Let me take you to the fields and watch you shoot down the little people on this snowy land, and let me control your every movement. Ты сдашься мне, и твоя жизнь будет моей. For just awhile."  

He could already feel the soft, soothing caress of General Winter's hand on his cheek. Beckoning him to obey, to give in. And if he gave in, he would wake up swimming in the blood of the ones he'd killed- the ones General Winters had killed.

"Твоя жизнь будет моей..."

"NO!" Ivan screamed and slammed his fist against the wall. His eyes clamped shut, trying to drown out the pounding of his head.

Lithuania's voice suddenly cried out, "Russia?! Are you okay?"

His vision was almost fading, and he barely registered anything as three forms emerged from nowhere. The taller of the trio reached to steady him as he lost his balance.

"What's wrong with him?" a small voice whispered.

"I think it's General Winter. Tonight's the night, isn't it?"

"Yes… he's been gone for quite awhile now…"

Ivan struggled to talk, but his mouth wouldn't open. He wanted to tell them to run, to get away before General Winter came to rip them apart. A chill settled in the room, freezing his thoughts in one quick swipe of air. Ivan squinted through his haze, trying to see, trying to prepare himself. But his search was met with a pale, deathly white face. He was here.  

Ivan's eyes dilated hysterically, his mouth formed a silent shout of horror.

General Winter slowly leaned over his body, wrapping him in a heavy shadow, and then it was like no one else was there anymore. The room morphed into a black-gray color, and hazy swirls of snow floated around them. Just him and his tormenter now.

"Иван..." the man whispered. "Я здесь."  

"Нет," Ivan said softly. "Пожалуйста, не совершай этого, General. Please, not tonight. I have just arrived back from England… I am torn and exhausted. I will die if you do this to me. And if I die, you will too." Maybe, Ivan thought wearily, that is for the best.  

But the ghost of a man just laughed. "Бедный мальчик," the General said mournfully, as if he actually meant it. "Бедненький...бедняжка...." And he cocked his head to the side in a musing manner, like he was really considering Ivan's plead. General Winter's next words were slightly sardonic yet rueful. "Hmm, you are right," the man murmured. "I see that your mind is close to snapping, that you might even lose your life if I lead you through the snowy land. хорошо тогда. I will, only for this night, take your well-being into account."    

Ivan could hardly believe it. His eyes became wide with relief. "Спасибо, General," he whispered after he'd found his voice. "Большое вам спасибо-"

"но," General Winter interrupted. "Я бы хотел дать тебе кое-что, Иван," An icy cold hand reached down to touch Ivan's face. "Подарок, if you will. A homecoming gift."  

Unease marked Ivan's expression. "It is fine," he said quickly. "This is more than enough, sir-"

"Нет," the General murmured breezily, and the man's long, billowing cloak whirled in the air and encircled Ivan's body. "Прими это, Иван. Accept my gift to you."

The General laughed, a dark booming laugh that resounded endlessly in Ivan's head. He reached a hand out and pierced two fingers into Ivan's skull, watching as the Russian screamed in agony. Before removing the indentions, General Winter smiled and whispered in Ivan's ear, "Спи, мой мальчик. Спи."  

And so, as General Winter released Ivan's body from his hold, and as he fell to the ground in a bloody mess, Ivan closed his eyes and began to dream.

--

It was raining. But he knew it wasn't the normal type of rain; if it was, he wouldn't find his hands filling up with sticky, thick liquid. Wouldn't find a dark red, almost black coating the ground underneath him, slipping as he took one step forward into a distant landscape. He was standing in the middle of the field, the field that was his sanctuary, where the sun once beamed down and warmly touched him. Now, there was no sun, and no flowers.

Ivan squinted through the blurry darkness of the rain, wishing his vision would clear so he could concentrate on figuring out what General Winter's surprise was. Never before had the General expressed pity to him, and never had he offered Ivan a "gift." But right now, it seemed more like another nightmare.

He walked on slowly, the weight of the water pushing him down. Ivan could still feel the massive headache from where General Winter had pierced his skull, and it was only his will that kept him from screaming and writhing on the ground in pain.

After wandering aimlessly, tiredly, for a few miles, wondering if days had passed in his dream, Ivan finally stumbled upon a lump on the ground. He cried out in joy- it was the first tangible thing he'd seen since arriving in the barren field. The shape was hard to tell in the rain, but he knew it was a plant of some sort. The roots were stuck in the ground, and the soft petals were strangely rough and sticky.

Ivan carefully leaned over and pried the object from the dirt. It was light, but the head of it tipped forward into his lap, and a rich, flowing liquid splashed on his clothing.

…О Боже Мой.

Nothing but horror registered in his mind at that moment, as he stared down at the broken, limp thing.

General Winter had gifted him… and cursed him.

Tears streamed down his cheek as Ivan gently lifted the object to the sky, to intercept the drops of rain.

The Russian sobbed aloud, clutching the flower to his chest. His smile was painfully insane.

"подсолнечник."

~~

None of the three Baltic countries said a word when they watched Russia's eyes roll to the back of his head. Not a word when he began to shake uncontrollably and trickles of dark liquid poured from his head. And of course, they hadn't made a sound or movement when tears suddenly fell from his closed eyes.

Only when more blood mysteriously appeared on his clothing and a dark, shriveled mass of petals floated around his head did Lithuania finally open his mouth.

"We must do something," he said softly. "Russia is in great pain."

But they only continued to gaze down upon him. None of the three knew if he was stable enough to touch, if moving him would cause more damage or help. And, of course, they were beyond terrified of the man. He was a bully; he had harmed them emotionally and physically at times. But, Lithuania's eyes softened just a bit, he suffered more than he ever let on. And he did provide them with a home.

"We can try," Lithuania muttered. He turned to the brown-haired man beside him. "Estonia, can you lift him up and apply pressure on the wound?" Estonia nodded and transferred the weight on Ivan's head from the ground to his hand. "And Latvia, can you find me the medicine box in the cabinet?" The youngest of the three quickly rushed to the living room and scrambled to hand Lithuania the salve.

After Lithuania finished bandaging Russia's head and the three moved him to the living room sofa, there was nothing left to do but wait. Lithuania was restless and kept circling the room to keep himself busy, least he glanced over at Russia's sleeping form. Just looking at his body, all bloodied and broken, made Lithuania feel a strange and pitied ache in his chest. You wouldn't even suspect that this same person could single-handedly murder countless people, or go on a crazed rampage and harm himself. "What is it with you, Russia?" Lithuania whispered. "You don't like me, and I don't like you. Yet, why is it so hard to see you in pain?"

The silence in the room was only broken by Estonia's calm voice. His hand gently rested on the other's shoulder. "It's okay, Lithuania," he murmured. "We feel the same way." Latvia nodded and joined the two as they gazed down at Ivan. All eyes mirrored Lithuania's confusion and concern.  

Is it really okay?

~~

Hours later, when Ivan woke up, drenched in sweat and blood, he found the three Baltic countries asleep on the sofa beside him. The headache was still there, but the bandage slightly dulled the pain, and when he glanced down at himself, the blood on his clothing had dried. I wonder how much time has passed, he thought. The room seemed to spin as he sat up, and a weight in his left hand dragged him back down again. It was the flower, he now knew to be called a "sunflower", and it was as beautiful as it was in his dreams. But the brilliant glow from the sunflower was masked by a dark hue in the middle; red liquid dripped from the petals onto the ground.

"It looks more like a snowflower," Ivan whispered to himself, lifting the flower above his head.

"Russia…?" a sleepy voice called from his right. Latvia yawned and blinked his eyes.

Ivan had almost forgotten that the three were there, and now he finally realized who had bandaged his head and placed him here on the sofa. Latvia's eyes cleared from drowsiness as he asked, "Are you okay, Russia?"

They really cared enough to do this? Ivan smiled, his own eyes softened, and gently petted Latvia on the head. Surprisingly, the boy didn't flinch as bad as he usually did. "Da, I am fine. Really," he added at Latvia's skeptical look.

"But what is that?" Latvia's attention was now on the drooping mass in Ivan's clenched fist.

"This?" Ivan gazed thoughtfully at the sunflower, and his mouth curled up in a cold smile. "Подарок," he murmured, and when he looked at Latvia again, the boy saw that the beast was only just being contained. "A gift from General Winter."

The first sunflower I have ever seen in my entire life.