It was an autumn's night that we partied through the darkness then part ways afterwards, the empty wine bottles scattered that served as a memory during our encounter. You often talked about how ironic it is that you have been chosen as the heir of a prestigious family; having the clumsiness of a mule while being as sly as a snake, how savvy you are.
Even though your looks are that of a noble your personality is a bit off, you lack the manners that even a servant from a wealthy household has. Though that's what makes you peculiar, you aren't shackled by the responsibility of your family and to disregard it as just a title or a name for yourself. I was intrigued; it seemed as if you were but a commoner to my eyes—you don't even harbor the same unpleasant attitude that the nobles have, I was beginning to fall for you and admire your ruthlessness I suppose.
Those jest and rumors you've told me were really something, it seems like you do care for us commoners; for I haven't seen you discriminate against us let alone hated us for being peasants. If the monarchy didn't exist you could've easily obtained power just by being with us, it was truly an enjoyable experience having you by our side.
You've stolen precious gems and sold it just to have the money for a party, you were in a sad state weren't you? I could see the hopelessness in your eyes as it started to spread down to your glistening face. As a friend I could not stand idly while the person whom I care about is taken over by malice and grief.
I did my best to lighten up the mood, I was there to support you; to help you in any hurdles you might encounter, I wanted to be your knight in shining armor and wanted no harm to befall you; your protector and avenger, yet you've shrugged me off and told me the truth.
We partied immensely throughout the night, I remembered drinking a pint of beer, while you were chugging down a bottle of vodka, you were the star of that night; everyone cheered with you as they lay wasted on the ground a few drinks after until only the two of us were left.
You hugged me tightly across my neck; I could feel my consciousness fading then you let go only to kiss me, my mind descending into a slumber—I could see your shadow disappearing through the distance as my body starts to shut down.
I wonder. I wonder why you left, you were perfect without guilt yet you've left me, for what reason? Are you telling me that all those things that happened that night were just pity and that no love was bonded together? I cried my heart out for 5 days and 5 nights without a break trying to clarify what had happened during that night; I was, in the worst stage of my life, I felt nothing while my whole body started to get sore and feel numb.
When all hope seems lost, your fragrance seeped through the tight corners of my room, a perfume-scented letter had just arrived; it was your letter and handwriting.
It disgusted me, the cntent of the letter disgusted me inside out, I was appalled, the mailman clearly stated scheduled execution, "execution of whom!" I shouted, Viviane Vatsily, the head of the Vatsily line the mailman implied.
I opened up the letter only to be greeted with bliss and sadness she wrote the pent-up feelings she'd had over me and stated that we shouldn't be together anymore because of the ever-changing time.
I broke down and shivered, I could not contain my anger and grief as it overlaps with one another, I laid on the floor in a fetal position not knowing what to do, I could neither walk nor speak, I was too afraid, afraid of me being a useless pessimistic person that cannot help the love of his life.
Nov/14/1918, a day I could not forget.
I got up, washed my face then looked at the mirror motionlessly as I saw myself dwindle into despair. My heart was crumbling to see what was about to happen.
In front of St. Petersburg cathedral, 9:00 AM,
It was a cold morning, crows and black butterflies were everywhere, I could see my hands shaking and my speech trembling of knowing what was about to happen.
Bolshevik guards started to gather, and prisoners that wore leather sacks moved on a straight line with people throwing garbage at them on their way to be judged.
The streets were noisy, the honk of horns and the sounds of overcrowding people could be heard as far as the horizon, I remembered it as clear as a summer's day.
time seemed to have stopped when they took off the leather sack on the prisoners head, there, a maiden whose fair skin entralled the crowd and whose beauty gazed upon the wary hearts.
I could see my tears pouring down with no end to it, it was you Vivianne, badly beaten to a pulp; wounds on her body from her face to her hand, it was a horrendous sight.
Oh my sweet Vivianne, how dare they. I'm sorry from the deepest pit of my heart, this cowardly fool begged to be there at your last moment, they let you be tattered and abused is this what a humane punishment is? What did you even do to become indicted as a criminal? You were born a noble But that's all there is to it!
As the guillotine sets nigh, the people cheered and yelled, for a second I felt the world is not real, I could see the heads rolling down one by one with the blood pouring around the dirty pavements where the crowds cheered loudly.
It was your turn, and I knew I had to step in, even if I die at least I will be a hero in your eyes. I pounced toward the guards to get inside the circle of death. I could see your eyes filled with despair and sadness connect with me as I clasped with your hand for one last time, until I was apprehended and put down.
The captain of the soldiers asked you if you knew me; you replied very clearly without a stutter "Guards I don't know that person let the blade drop as to end this as fast as possible."
Vivianne. You really are selfish, even in death you didn't want me to interfere, you've saved me countless of times yet I cannot return the favor for even once, even if it meant saving your life.
If I could hug you one last time, I am sorry I really am, I wished I could've eased your suffering from the hands of those filthy communist. But now all I can do is weep, even as I try to move on, but the past still haunts me about how useless I am.
Vivianne, you are a goddess, a Valkyrie sent by Odin himself, as you remain true and triumphant even at the face of death, your bloody mangled corpse as it was fed to the dogs would always remain inside my messed up head and so is your gleaming personality that changed my vision of what perfection and affection really is, from the bottom of my heart I love you and will soon follow you.
Sincerely yours
Maximian Petrikov.