16th century Russia

Her perfectly manicured hand reached out to grab the doorknob of what she was told was her safe haven. She glanced around and saw only a poor excuse for a house. It was run down, the lawn was overgrown; the house had peeling yellow paint, and loose tiles; let’s just say people like her did not belong in shitty places like this. But this was a crisis and she needed help, the love of her life had gone and dumped her on what was supposed to be a romantic getaway. All for some tramp in a menial paying job. She pursed her lips in disgust and ran her hand through her perfectly maintained hair and turned the knob with the other hand. The inside was a great improvement to the shabby remnants of the outside. With clean floors, and decent furniture. ‘But,’ she thought ‘if your ancestors were a bunch of old hags with the tendency to create some decent spells,’ she shrugged, she was never very good at mental spells but if the opportunity arose she could create potions like no tomorrow. She hated this place, it didn’t meet her high standards but she stepped inside regardless of her blatant disapproval. She could use her ancestor’s help to accomplish this task, it was quite a huge task after all. It was a lot more difficult than what she could do on her own. Most of what she needed was in this building so this place needed to be unappealing to the general public, ‘unfortunately,’ she thought, ‘it was also unappealing to her.’

Walking through the front hall of the building with her nose turned up and her head held high. She hated that she had to have help on this but her ancestor’s place was open to her needs whenever she needed them. She made a quick detour to the only thing worth anything to the real world. The prettiest bookcase she had ever seen. She ran her manicured fingers along the old and dusty books that adorned the shelves. Her fingers stopped moving on the book she knew she needed. It was a moldy old thing but it was filled with useful knowledge and powerful spells and potions. The one she needed was definitely in this book. Flicking through the pages she smiled when she saw the potion she needed. It was a very complicated ingredient list and would take time to complete. She wanted this to be as perfect as she, herself, was.

        Making her was towards the back where the ingredients were she placed the book down on the large ebony highly furnished desk, running her hand over the smooth surface as she walked by. She had spent a month and half thinking about the perfect potion to get even with that tramp. She had succeeded and finally, finally, she could put her ancestry to use. She walked to the cabinets and opened the first drawer where she pulled out the first of many herbs that would lend her the ability to cast this potion. She knew there would be risks, consequences for using this potion, but she didn’t care. She also knew that there would be a way for the tramp to find the cure but for as long as she lived she was not going to tell them or allow them to find it. She smirked; it wouldn’t be an easy cure, they would have to find the ingredients and know how to make it, she might even destroy the ingredients, to keep the potion going as long as possible. For eternity she could watch them suffer, and when she was bored, she could tell them, but she sincerely doubted she would get bored. After collecting all the ingredients, the Calliergon giganteum and the Humulus lupulus being two of the many ingredients necessary.

She looked at the book and the incantation that wasn’t necessary to speak out loud but for her perfect potion she started chanting the incantation as she mixed the ingredients.

Finally, it was time to add the core of the potion, the very thing that would be essential to her plan. She glanced at the little rectangular container that belonged to the tramp. Finally, she leant back in her seat and stared at her reflection in the smooth surface of the little rectangular container. Her green eyes stared back at her.

The next step, and the most fun for her, was to give the tramp, her favorite lipstick brand.

Chtoby byt’ Proklyat byt’ Neschastnym

21st century America

        The sound of heels clicking on a hard surface resonated throughout the room. Slow and deliberate, like they could hardly walk in those shoes but feared taking them off. The room was dark except for one lone table, on which sat an equally lonely table lamp which feebly attempted to light up the otherwise barren room. There was no movement detected within the room except for the slight motion of a person trying to quietly and slowly move across the room. Shadows briefly danced along the room as the movement hit the light.

        There was a sudden stillness to the room, the room filled with silence. Then came the knocking, the painstakingly deliberate knocking on the door. The room burst with life as the knocking continued. A pale arm moved into the light, followed closely by a desperate looking face which could be seen in the dirty window. Two dark hazel eyes looked around wildly as the person on the other side of the door tried the doorknob. Slight yellowish teeth started to nervously chew on the young man’s bottom lip as his shaking hands went to open the window. As the window creaked and groaned from lack of use, the man turned his head towards the door; which had opened without a sound.

        The man slowly closed his eyes, once again finding himself in this position. His hands fell from the window in defeat as he turned to face her head on. Two sets of eyes met; one dark and defeated the other gray and calm. “Hello David.” Said a calm voice. David’s eyes flickered down towards the woman’s red lips. Those lips always caught his attention; there was just something about them that was off. He barely registered those lips moving as the woman spoke. Something glinted in David’s peripheral vision. His hazel eyes were drawn towards the movement. Her lightly manicured hand was tenderly holding a Tokarev pistol. David gulped and he dared to look up into her calm eyes. He could drown in those eyes. He always did.

        He barely registered the noise a gunshot could make. He didn’t even move as she unloaded her gun into his chest. The last thing he did register was those lips. Which were in the shape of a frown, the red lipstick eerily highlighting that sadness. He never knew why she was so sad. The last thought running through his mind as the sound of heels calmly got farther away was “I can’t keep doing this.”

Two years later, America

        Pale hands flew across the keyboard as he typed away on the computer. He barely registered his surroundings as he concentrated on his task. He needed to know why this kept happening to him. After searching for a week and a half he had found nothing on why this was possible. Finally, he tried a different approach; he tried looking up the origin of his name. He smiled as that wielded some answers. He never knew his parents, hell; he was starting to doubt he ever had parents. But one thing that remained consistent was his name. It was always Russian in origin.

        He started researching all he could on weird or odd phenomenon that had cropped up in Russia. But after searching for two hours he called it quits for that day. He tuned back into his surroundings, pages rustling as students tried to cram knowledge into their heads. He wished his life could be that simple. He desperately wished for normalcy in his life, instead all he has is a million questions and no answers. He logged out of the computer, making sure to write down the student id number he had borrowed. He pulled his hood up and kept glancing left and right, down every row of books he passed.

        As he rounded the corner and passed yet another aisle of books, he slowly scanned the area ahead of him. His eyes spotted nothing out of the ordinary. He took a deep breath and glanced to both sides of him. Again, there was nothing there to worry about. Being paranoid he chose to listen to his surroundings, to see if he could pick up on any hidden sounds. He heard the slow turning of pages coming from behind him. He froze, the deliberate rustling of a book being closed kept him frozen in place. He tensed as he felt something brush his hand. He glanced down without moving his body and saw a lightly manicured nail.

        “Hello Erik.” Said a quiet eerily calm voice. He didn’t move his lips as he spoke. “How did you find me?” He could sense her smile with those red lips he used to love. “I can always find you.” Came her slow response, her hand slowly caressed his arm. His light hazel eyes followed the slow calming movements of her thumb. “Let’s get some air.” Her voice, supposed to sound soothing, came out a little rough, a little urgent. He let her lead him outside. If that was a way out, he would take it. His free hand pulled down his faded hood, his eyes never once let her body out of his sight. Once they reached the outside of the college library, he blinked in the sudden brightness. He must’ve moved because her hand tightened her grip on his arm. She led them over to a secluded, hidden spot. Once they were sitting down, she let go of his arm. His eyes moved upwards, scanning her face. Her bright gray eyes stared calmly back at him. Her red lips, as he guessed, were pulled into a smile, a sad smile.

         “What do you want with me?” he questioned. She blinked at him, with her sad eyes that seemed to always hide important information. “Can’t I just come and visit?” She questioned back. He smiled, “No, the only time I see you is when you’re here to kill me.” She nodded slowly, “Very observant.” She tilted her head to the side as if pondering. “It’s time for a change.” She whispered calmly, those damned red lips of hers pulled into a frown. He took a deep breath and glanced at the sky. “I don’t understand you.” He saw out of the corner of his eye, her manicured hand put something in her mouth. He felt her hands gently guide his face towards hers, their eyes met at the same time their lips did. He felt something round enter his mouth; guided by her tongue the tiny pill disappeared. The last thing he saw was those familiar gray eyes, staring into his as the light left his eyes.