Daughter Of The Red Tsar

Chapter One: A Bloody Russian Night

Five shots are heard in the Russian night as Grigori Rasputin flees from the scene. Rushing from the blood covered Yusupov Palace, he rushes North towards Moyka River, gunshots following him as he jumps outside of the Palace window, his monk clothes covered in red.    

Breathing heavily he looks to make sure the package and his Journal is safe inside his broken torn bag in his hand. Feeling the paper and leather inside he sighs happily and then continues moving reaching Prachechnyy Street.

Looking to make sure the coast was clear, Rasputin quickly and quietly moved North.

The night was cold and unforgiving, and to make matters worse, snow began to fall upon the Russian streets. Lamps flickered in and out as Rasputin moved along the shadows. Moving like a phantom, no one saw him rush through the street nearing the closest bridge. 

Suddenly a bullet whisks past his face hitting the cobblestone a few feet ahead. 

Yells pierced his ears and Rasputin heard the assassins and soldiers coming near. Their footsteps marching fast in their charge to take him out and take the only thing that could destroy the new Tsar’s power. Running faster than any man of his age was thought capable to do he arrived at Pochtamstky Bridge where when crossing the Russian Police arrived at the other side of the bridge with their weapons aimed at Rasputin.

Without looking back Rasputin knew the assassins and soldiers were behind him. 

Keeping a stern face he said calmly “Well, you have caught me.”

The small army stood stiff and kept their eyes locked on Rasputin whose eyes had their fiery glow in them, as though he had known what was going to happen next.

Rasputin announced into the frozen crowd of men, “Stalin, I know the Tsar sent you to kill me.” 

Walking from the shadows of his men Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin walked onto the bridge to confront Rasputin. Seeing the strength that filled Rasuptin's eyes confused him, “Why isn’t he scared? He is about to die, the supposed holy man always loved to talk about how he knew everything and that he was God’s communicator. Did he know this was to happen?” 

“Yes, I did know this was to happen Joseph” Rasputin said with a slight grin.

“I knew that someone was to kill me eventually and you Stalin..the day we met I knew you would be my demise.”
 
The night had grown warm for Stalin as he began to think but, he regained his composure and that momentary weakness was put down.

“Give me the papers and Journal Rasputin, I can vouch for your life. If lucky you can live in exile.” 

“You know I can not do that Koba.” Rasputin scoffed.

“You will address me as my name Rasputin, the days of friendship are dead. It died the minute you stole those papers.” 

Stalin’s voice grew more rough and deep as the distance between the two men closed and Stalin was against Rasputin's face where Stalin grabbed his beard then a bruise began to appear on Rasputin’s face as Stalin’s hand returned to his side. 

“Give me the papers or it will be the end for you, you so called holy man. God can not save you know.” 

“Oh God already knows what is happening. He knows your new Tsar will fall and they will be put back in charge.” Commented Rasputin. 

As the two men stared at one another fire both in their eyes which had replaced the love lost long ago both men now saw snow drop all around them covering their faces turning them blue but, their hatred keeping them warm.

Rasputin began laughing, surprising everyone around him with different expressions on each person's face. 

Rasputin said, “Haha, you fools. You do not know what has begun. The beginning of the end of your new Tsar has begun as is commanded by God!” 

As Ice began to form all around them and the weather became more blanketed in snow, Rasputin laughed like a mad man and spread his arms up to the heavens dropping the torn bag as he climbed the railing.

Even Stalin was surprised, his eyes losing the fire and replaced with something he had not felt in years.

Fear.

Fear of an old man who preached the word of God.

Stalin took a step back and slipped on the ice falling on his butt as he looked up he saw Rasputin with a grin the size of Chester Cat on it. It was a demonic looking grin as Rasputin began laughing harder, the sounds becoming an unnatural sound as he yelled to all of St. Petersburg. 

“People of Russia! Fear will come for you, your new Tsar will die by the hand of the past, the one he thought was gone! He shall gain his revenge as shall God! For all of you have sinned against him. When the bell tolls three times, it will announce that I have been killed but, I shall rise to the heavens and bring you to your knees!” 

Rasptuin tilted his head and stared his empty soulless eyes at Stalin “And you Koba, shall realize that your Tsar does not love you, protect the child for she will avenge our sins. If you do not do this your own power shall fall and you will be eaten by your sins!”

Rasptuin eyes rolled up to the clouds as snow caked his beard turning him into a sort of demonic Father Christmas as he screeched, “Take me God! Take me to the Heavens for your wisdom and purity shall save the Russian People!” 

Snow rushed onto the scene making everyone blind and as the snow reached Stalin he saw Rasputin disappear in a flurry of white with his flaming glowing eyes dimming then fading away. When the snow cleared only Stalin with the torn bag a few feet away were the only things left on the bridge. 

There was silence. No human sound could be heard in St. Petersburg for the rest of the night after the incident. Only the storms growl covered the Venice of the North.

The last words before the new day were spoken by Stalin as he had turned pale as a ghost and the snow covering his entire face he muttered saying only,

“The future of Russia will be dependent on the child..and these pieces of paper...God save the Tsar for this, has been a very bloody Russian night.”