☭ POST WORLD WAR II, the world was a confusing place. Between the United States and Russia, the threat of nuclear war plagued the minds of everyone. The former allies fought with shady, backhanded trade agreements, showing off which nation had...
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* chapter one — us, mutants; 2076 words✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"ANASTASIA ROMAOV," SAID A DEEP VOICE.
Anastasia whirled around, a smile painted across her face. "Ivan Romanov," she replied softly. "Long time, no see, Bubba."
Ivan and Anastasia embraced in a long-awaited hug. This had been the first time they'd seen each other in months, and neither one wanted to release the other.
"How have you been?" Ivan asked, his voice heavy with a Russian accent.
"I've been through worse," she answered. Finally, she let go of him, but kept her hands interlaced with his. "How have you been? Dallarosa isn't given you a rough time is he?"
"No, I haven't see him in ages," he said. Looking around, he spotted a worn-down rock wall and walked over to sit down. She followed, of course, keeping her hand locked with his. "How's America?"
Anastasia glanced over her shoulder. The woods where they were meeting creaked with the wind rushing past the branches. "I'm working in a laboratory with some scientist."
Ivan inspected her worried face. "What type of research are you doing?"
Her voice shook, "Research on Mutants."
She shot up, releasing his hand from her grasp. Pacing back and forth in front of him, she continued. "I went from research with Dallarosa on Mutants to research with the CIA on Mutants. Is that why they sent me there?"
Ivan rubbed his hands on his pants. "I doubt they knew that's where you would go."
"Perhaps, but coincidence is a bitch." Anastasia stopped her pacing, facing her brother. "I could run you know? Take off and leave. We could do it together — Now!"
"Anya, you can't — we can't," Ivan responded. His eyes softened, looking kindly at Anastasia. "That scientists you work with—?"
"Hank?"
"Yes, him. Do you care about him?"
Anastasia chewed on her thumb-nail, a bad habit she had when she was nervous or was thinking. "I do care for him," she replied. "He's nice and, admittedly, very cute."
"They'll kill him," Ivan said bluntly. "If you run, they will hunt you down, and make you watch as they kill him in every painful way. They did that to me, they'll do that to you."
