Sounds of appreciation fill the room as countless smells tickle our noses. There are different types of soup, a giant roasted lamb, and some of the vegetables are shaped like Christmas trees and stars.
We start eating, and chatter echoes around us. Erik and Eduard try to annoy me, but I kick and pinch them underneath the table until they whine out loud. This time, they’re the ones who get Babushka’s stare of disapproval.
Papa’s chief of security rushes inside the hall, his face contorted with exertion. This is the first time I’ve seen him distressed and on edge.
Papa’s harsh gaze turns to him. “Didn’t I tell you not to bother us during family dinners?”
“This is an emergency, sir. The central security system was disabled, and I’m getting no updates from the guards stationed outside—”
His words cut off when a red laser dot appears on his forehead, and then it’s blown to bits. Blood splashes on the Christmas decorations and the food in front of two of my cousins as the man drops with a thud.
A scream rips from somewhere in the room, but I can’t look away from the man. When I finally lift my gaze, I find small red dots on Mama’s forehead, chest, and stomach. Papa’s, too.
Everyone has those laser dots.
Oh, no.
No.
Harsh footsteps echo outside, sounding as if they’re coming from underground. No, maybe they’re coming from a parallel universe.
My hopeful thoughts are slaughtered when countless men spill inside the dining room. They’re dressed in black combat gear, heavy boots, and thick helmets, their faces hidden with balaclavas, and are carrying long rifles that are slung across their chests. The only time I’ve seen anything like this was in a movie about the Second World War. I hated that movie. It was all about the siege, young men dying, and rotting cadavers in the street.
It was about the worst time for humanity, where greed and power killed millions and millions of innocent people.
Why does this feel like I’m in that time?
“Everyone down!!” Papa yells and clutches Mama by the nape, but before he can push her to the floor, blood explodes on his chest, and he looks at me even as his eyes start to roll back.
Mama shrieks, but it’s cut off when half of her head is blown away.
I scream and scream and scream, but my voice isn’t heard in the middle of the shooting and other horrified shrieks. The soldiers are like robots, eliminating one person after the other.
Uncle Anatoly grabs his pregnant wife and starts to pull her toward him, but she’s hit in her belly. He retrieves his gun and screams as he fires and empties it without any aim or sense of direction. Before he can finish, he’s shot in the back and falls in his dead wife's pool of blood.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
All of a sudden, everything turns black.
The screams, wails, and raw shrieks don’t disappear, though. Many things don’t.
The gunshots.
The tangy stench of blood.
The wails and sobs.
The infants’ cries.
The women’s terrified yells.
I think it’s a nightmare, which is why I’m not seeing anything, but then, I realize I’ve been pushed under the table, facedown, on the carpet. Slowly, I lift my head.
“Shh.” Erik places a shaky hand over my mouth, tears clinging to his eyelashes. “Stop screaming…Sasha, please…”
I breathe against his palm. I’m not sure, but I think I’ve been screaming ever since I saw my parents being killed.
“It’s okay,” Erik whispers even as he trembles, his teary eyes filling with unprecedented terror.
Did he also witness his parents being murdered? Did he…where’s Eduard? Anton?
I latch onto Erik’s hand with both of mine, and he hugs me to his chest. Eduard is shielding us both, I realize, and so are Timur and Gavriil—Uncle Albert’s sons. They’re circling us as Erik and I curl on the ground together, crammed in the small space between the table and the wall.
My fingers tighten around Erik’s back. We shake against each other, hiding our faces in one another’s damp necks. Our hearts beat so loud, I feel like they’ll explode any second. My eyes are shut so tightly that they hurt.
A weight falls on me, and I cry, jerking violently against Erik. Something hot trickles down my head and face, and I open my eyes a little.
Blood drenches my soft pink dress and the top of Erik’s head, his cheeks, and his neck. I stare up, and my mouth opens when I see Eduard’s and Timur’s lifeless eyes. Holes riddle their chests, and half of Timur’s face is gone. Gavriil is also clutching his middle and screaming as blood pours out of him.
“No…” Erik sobs, reaching for his twin.
He releases me, his face ashen, and tears streak down the blood on his cheeks.
“Erik…no…don’t…don’t go…” I desperately hold onto his wrist with my unsteady hand. If he sits up, they’ll know he’s alive—
His body jerks back, and I’m about to scream, but he falls on top of me. The weight of his lifeless body suffocates me and I stop breathing.
For a moment, I think I was hit, too.
But if I were, would I still hear the gunshots? Would I feel the blood that’s soaking me?
The shrieks and screams have died down, but the gunshots haven’t. They keep going on and on and on.
All I can do is tremble and cry silently while covered by my dead cousins and a pool of blood.
At this moment, all I wish for is death.
I wish and wish…
But it never comes.
1
KIRILL
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Today is my wedding day.
Which happens to be the second in the span of a week.
And while I don’t believe in wedding fever or the institution of marriage itself, certain circumstances have made this outcome inevitable.
This whole process is necessary for the survival of the house of cards. It won’t be long before the chess pieces take their places on the board.
Truth is, they’ve been where they’re supposed to be from the start.
Everything is going exactly according to plan.
The church brims with people. At the top of the food chain, there’s the Pakhan, the leaders of the brotherhood, and the rest of the members from different organizations.
They’re here to witness the birth of the new man all dealings will go through.
Aka me.
Considering the importance of this event, the church is mined with security detail from all factions. However, Viktor is the one who’s leading the process. I don’t trust anyone else to make this wedding a success.
Most of my men are stationed inside, while the others are guarding the external perimeter. I can leave it to Viktor to come up with the best security plans.
I check my watch and frown when I don’t find an update from Maksim. He should’ve gotten in touch by now.
Unless…he was killed?
I internally shake my head. He couldn’t be dead. Maksim is one of my best men, second best after Viktor in combat, so there’s no one better than him to take care of this loose end.
“Sir?”
I lift my head to stare at the priest. Wrinkles of age surround his eyes as he carefully looks between me and my ‘supposed’ wife-to-be. Perhaps I spent too long staring at my watch and ignoring the robot of a woman who shouldn’t be anyone’s wife.