The Last Romanov (Under Editing)

Judgment Day, pt 1

Sasha could remember the first time he'd gone hunting with his grandfather, out in the woods near their cabin. A buck had wandered into the clearing they'd been watching for hours. At least, it had felt like hours to ten-year-old Sasha. Sasha had fully expected his grandpa to take the shot, but he didn't: instead, he clapped one hand on his shoulder.

"You take this one, buddy," grandpa had said.

He'd had a horrible vomitus feeling in his stomach that hole time. From the moment he started to take aim, fired, and saw that buck go down, his stomach twisted around itself in a way it never had, before. That feeling died down with each hunting trip, and by the time he found himself in the army, he didn't even feel it, anymore. It was just a memory.

Except that day, it came back in full force.

What the hell is wrong with me? He thought to himself as he set up the rifle and the wind gauge. Feel like I'm in the woods with grandpa, again.

If only. He'd much prefer hunting with grandpa and dragging bucks back to the cabin, making the sweat drip down his back in rivers, to sitting on that abandoned rooftop, waiting for the right moment to shoot the Czarina, possibly ending his own life right along with hers. But, that hadn't been possible in a long while: grandpa had been dead for awhile, and as far as he knew, so was grandma.

Besides: maybe if he did this, he would be helping some kid stay with people he loved longer. Maybe he'd be able to guarantee some kids a childhood, one that he'd never been able to have.

He sighed. You're a damned idiot, sometimes. You know that, right?

He decided to not linger on it any longer: allowing thoughts to linger tended to do more harm than good, those days. Instead, he began to line up his shot, making the calculations he needed in his head as he did.

She was about a hundred yards away: not too far by sniper shot standards. And, he had a pretty clear shot: she wasn't moving around too much, and the building was almost directly in front of her, so he wasn't at an odd angle from her. It was one of the easiest shots he'd ever had.

He looked down at his watch. Two minutes before Russia got turned upside down for the third time since 1918.

Sasha turned his attention back to his shot and began his pre-shot ritual.

First, the slow, controlled breathing: in, out. In, out. In, out.

With each breath, he allowed his body to become more relaxed. Soon, there was no tension in his body, as if he were made out of gelatin.

He flicked the safety off and wrapped one finger around the trigger.

He slowed his breathing even more, this time, to help with the nerves building in his stomach. Innn, ouuut. Innn, ouuut.

Innnnnnnnnnnn, ouuuuuuuuuut...

He pulled the trigger as he exhaled.

Judgement had come.

***

"The past, as all of you remember, is the vile thing that happened in the house behind me," Anastasia continued her speech. "Behind me is where, in 1918, Red Army soldiers took the members of the Romanov family - the royal family - and their loyal servants who'd stayed with them throughout their captivity down into the basement, where they were all shot and killed. All, except for one."

She looked back at the Ipatiev House. Likely for the last time before she gave the order to tear it down, then she looked back at the crowd. "That night will forever stay in our memories as a night of horrors. The blood of the royal family will stay soaked into this hallowed ground for eternity. However, it is time to look to the future. And that future is a new cathedral dedicated to the memories of Czar Nicholas II, Czarina Alexandra, Grand Duchesses Olga, Tatiana, and Maria, Grand Duke Alexei, and all others who lost their lives that fateful night in remaining faithful to the Romanov family. And all those who have died since in defiance of the Red Oppressors."

She expected something from the crowd. Some clapping, some cheering, maybe even some heckling, but nobody said anything. She didn't hear so much as a sneeze in response to what she'd said.

Anastasia should've known, she supposed. One of her attendants had warned her that much of the city wasn't interested in what they were doing, that day: those who'd shown up were simply there because of the possibility that they would be getting bread for showing their support of the Czarina. She would have to do something to pique their interests.

But, for right then, she was going to finish saying what she had to say.

"With the destruction of this building, we won't only be seeing the crumbling of bricks and concrete," Anastasia said. "We'll also be seeing the crumbling of old animosities. And out of the dust, a new Russia will be born, one that's stronger and more united than ever before!"

There were a few half-hearted claps.

It would have to do, for right then.

Anastasia turned towards the demolition crew and nodded. "Tear it down."

The crane turned on with a grumble and swiveled, making the wrecking ball sway.

But before the wrecking ball had hit the building, there was a loud boom, like thunder.

Anastasia hadn't even realized she'd been shot until she'd hit the ground, bleeding.

***

For a few moments, Sasha couldn't believe it. He'd done it: he'd killed Anastasia Romanov, once and for all.

He smiled first, then he began to laugh. A nervous, manic laugh. I did it. She's dead! She's dead and she's never-

Imagine his surprise when she got up on her own power.

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*insert dramatic music here*

Hello, one and all, and happy Tuesday! I hope you guys have been enjoying your day, thus far. 

Just one quick item of housekeeping for you guys, today. You guys will be getting two chapters, today! Why? Because the second chapter for today is pretty short... So, I'll be doing the dedication for the week on the next chapter.

As always, be sure to vote and comment, and I'll see you later on today with another exciting update of "The Last Romanov" :D