A Soviet's Struggle

Оди́н

The Hall engulfed her in darkness. The naked eye could see nothing but the dimly lit doors at the end of the hall. At every foot and a half, a new set of curtains lied on the walls, concealing something behind. The figure in the darkness, and her accompanying kin, stood at the entrance to this hall, gazing at the door that lied before them. This was it! This hallway, this dark and dank hallway, and that door, were the only things between them and the prize. The prize of immortality beyond, as promised...

A loud thud echoed in the small, confined space. It was dark, and the creature that had just fallen didn't know what year it was. Her arms were stuck in a crossed-armed position - and her vision was impaired. The inside of the space was soft and damp - while the top of the space, on which she hit her head, was wooden. She blinked as her senses began to return to her; sight, hearing, touch... The rabbit, wolf, and raven hybrid animal then realised that she was not breathing - nor was she hungry for anything. She didn't remember what happened previously before the tricky predicament the hybrid found herself in; all she knew was that she wanted to escape the hell she was trapped in. Within an instant, the Russian pounded on the wooden ceiling, creating a small dent with each swing. Although it was claustrophobic, she still managed to create a hole in the coffin's wooden exterior. Dirt began to flow into her face; to which she grumbled in irritation. Stubborn, she hit the opening until it was wide enough for her to dig through.

She dug for what seemed like hours in the 6 foot deep soil before reaching the surface. Her hand was the first appendage to touch the cool, night-fall air of an autumn's evening. Slowly, the rest of her body emerged; arms, head, torso, legs, and feet. To her, it felt like being re-born, a tight squeeze and endless dirt journey to the surface. She glanced around the graveyard; then to the gravestone, looking to the writing, which wrote in fine stone-carved print: "Mariya Fyodorovna Romanova - 1983 to 1998: She will always remain in our hearts."

Slightly confused, the Russian turned back around and began to look for the gated exit of the cemetery. Her feet crushed the dead leaves, making a crisp crunching noise as she walked along the grass, passing other gravestones. Mariya glanced over at some of the gravestones that she passed as she walked. All seemed well, until she saw a particular gravestone out of the corner of her eye. Etched on this Gravestone was the name: "Caroline Johanna Katja: 1982 - 1999: victim of suicide. Taken too soon." Mariya paused in her footsteps, her shoulders drooped down and her legs became weak, closing her only viable eye - a small tear rolled down her rotted cheek.

"How unfortunate," a voice rang from behind, causing Mariya to whip around almost immediately - only to see no one there. Again the voice rang out, this time to her left, "Your beloved Caroline. Such a shame. She had a lot going for her, that woman. Could've gone to college, gotten a career..."

Again, Mariya whipped to her left, to find no one there. Spooked, she spoke out into the darkness, "Who's there? How do you know about Caroline?"

The voice chuckled and a cold breeze blew past her, onto her neck. "You really don't remember, do you?"

Moonlight shone onto a tree - illuminating a ghostly figure leaning against it. Mariya looked at the ghost, perplexed, then slowly walked to it. "Who are you?" she hissed.

"Me?" the ghost replied blankly, "My name is Alyosha. I'm your Guardian Angel." Mariya blinked at Alyosha, raising an eyebrow. "Guardian Angel?"

"Yes."

Mariya hesitated for a moment, looking around the empty graveyard. Her eye met with Alyosha, who was patiently leaning against a tree. She opened her mouth, sputtering her words. "Alright then, 'Alyosha'. Why am I here? Why was I in the ground?"

Alyosha stood tall and walked over to the undead hybrid, smiling a slyish smile. "The Wolf never wanted you to die that day. He sent me to resurrect you, to give you a second chance. So here you are."