#tatiana.yelchin

[rosteks-reaper-blog]

closed to @tatiana-yelchin

Vanko’s Books was special to Natalia. Being within its walls made her feel young again, made her feel untouchable. In a way, it brought her calm. She’d creep away to the back offices, close a door behind her and lock it, then sort through paperwork until her head throbbed. Then and only then would she pull out a book and immerse herself in its pages until her eyelids sagged, when sleep finally called for her.

This was a special place. One important to her.

And like all important things, it deserved to be shared.

The bell over the door rang. Natalia peeked around a shelf, saw Tatiana, and exhaled slowly. A calm settled over her. Where she might have slung a harsh accusation the girl’s way were she anyone else, there was only a gentle remark: “Zolotse, you’re late.”

[rosteks-reaper-blog]

Closed to @tatiana-yelchin

September 2nd, 2002

The door remained open behind her, swaying on heavy hinges. Natalia didn’t look back. Her bare footprints were tracked on the hardwood floor, so deep a shade of red they almost looked black. At a glance, it might have appeared that she was injured, but the blood that matted down her hair and soaked through her clothing wasn’t her own. Even back then, Natalia Lazareva had been untouchable. Still was. 

She made her way into the living room, exhaustion making her muscles tense. A good murder was no easy feat, after all, and a series of deadly transformations would leave her in bed for the next day. 

Unbuttoning and peeling off her bloodied shirt, her victim’s screams still filled her mind. A little Lesyas soldier, one whose life Natalia had taken away slowly. With great, dire care. 

As she dropped the garment to the floor, she noticed a figure in the corner of her eye. Her head snapped in their direction, eyes glowing gold, ready for another fight. Natalia’s countless safe houses were meant to be safe. A compromised refuge would be useless to her.

And then she realized, all too late...

“Oh, Ana,” she whispered.