Ivan the Horrible

One: Moving

Ivan Cal was not happy to be returning to his hometown after 13 years. It seemed that fate itself wanted the 23-year-old man to come back to his roots. Life was good in Moscow, peaceful. His family first moved to Russia when he was 10 and he had planned to stay there for the rest of his life. Despite Ivan having just finished his military career, he was ready to begin his life a stronger man. As a teen, he spent his days drinking and smoking with friends, but the military taught him discipline and gave him physical strength. He had quit bad habits, started working out daily, and helped his father at the local bakery. It seemed that good times couldn't last forever, though.

The image of his father laying facedown in a pool of blood still played in his head as he carried the last of his belongs into his mother's cabin. The crackle of the fire was the only sound that could be heard. Both his mother and her new husband sat together in the kitchenette. His presence alone caused the two to cease their conversation and stare at the burly man without bothering to help him unpack. His mother felt like she had done enough for him by offering him the supply closet as a spare bedroom. Ivan had promised her that his stay would be temporary as he planned on getting his own place once he had saved enough money. As much as he had loved his father, and as close as the two were, not a cent was left for Ivan after his father had passed. No, that money went to his mother. Ivan had wondered if it was a way to apologize after all the years they had been apart. That, or a way to say sorry for the pain he had caused in the past.

"Ivan, there is left over salmon in the fridge," his mother finally spoke as she and her husband stood. "Steven and I are going fishing this evening."

"Okay, Ma. Be careful and come home if you get too cold," Ivan told his mother. She merely tipped her head to her son as she and Steven walked arm and arm out of the cabin. Strangely, Ivan met the cold gaze of her husband. His eyes locked with the scowl and cinnamon brown eyes as Steven passed him.

Ivan knew his father was not a perfect man, but always showed him love and affection. What drove his mother away was his cruelty. One night, after an intense fight, she packed her bags and left. Ivan knew his father was responsible for all of the fights. He drank too much, he worked himself to a point were he lived in a constant state of stress, he took his anger out on Ivan's mother. Once she was gone, Ivan's father changed. He tried to be a good father for Ivan, but ultimately let his son make his own terrible choices. If he didn't join the military, Ivan always wondered what path he would have wandered without structure in his life.

The thoughts of his father were in his head as he unpacked his belongings. He didn't bring everything from his home in Russia, just sentimental blankets handmade by his grandmother, his clothes, and his rifle. Life could be rough, even dangerous, in the Alaskan frontier. It was better to be prepared than left defenseless.

"What a day," Ivan muttered to himself as he finally finished hanging his clothes on a hook on the wall. Now that he was alone, the realization had finally settled in. Over the past few months, his father's murder seemed like a bad dream and Ivan had yet to wake up. How could he? How could anyone when someone you care about was taken so brutally? Ivan had felt a hatred in his heart when it first happened. He cursed the world, cursed God, and cursed the fact that there would never be closure as the investigation ended pretty much as soon as it started. If only he could find whoever had done the horrible deed... he swore that he would make then pay.

But now, Ivan was different. He was numb. If there was a reason behind his father's murder, then he wanted to know. What was the motivation? What was the reason? With a sigh, Ivan stood and went to the kitchenette. He knew that even if there was a reason, he would likely never find out. Maybe it was best if he didn't know, for those were the thoughts that kept him up at night.