Blood for Blood

Blood for Blood

 

The terror I suffered on that night still fills me with an oppressing sense of constant foreboding.  How did I arrive at such a location and why?  This remains unclear, even to this day.  I will tell you this; I wish I had been anywhere but there...

 

With a mighty clap and a flash of blinding light came The Man.  When my eyesight was restored I saw him, and instantly I fell upon my knees in a state of extreme desperation.

 

Sitting on the gem-encrusted throne, returned from beyond the grave, was Tsar Nikolai II.  His white gloved fist clenched a scepter that gleamed with precious stones and his face was full of rage.

 

My mouth suddenly went dry, and I wept uncontrollably from fright mingled with confusion.

 

From the deceased sovereign's mouth flowed curses and rhetoric which were delivered in many languages simultaneously.  My astonished mind couldn't count or understand much of them.

 

His voice itself was like an army of trumpets sounding in unison.  The painful noise reverberated in my ears.

 

The wrathful Emperor's epaulettes shone blazing like the sun.  Upon his head rested an ancient and dazzling diadem.

 

With his staff he smashed the marble floor with mighty blows causing the earth to tremble then crack.

 

The once deposed, and newly descended, Tsar Nikolai's face held the promise of revenge, and his eyes glowed with piercing ice-blue radiance.

 

I wrapped my arms about my lowly head as if to blanket myself from his presence.  I felt my body rocking to and fro, and then leaning into my bent knees, I pressed hard against my quivering chest.

 

"Blood for blood," he thundered.

 

The Romanov's rise again with Rasputin not far behind!

 

By Wendy Welk

 

Blood for Blood

 

author
Wendy Welk was born in Alberta, Canada and spent her formative years stargazing and joyfully playing in the snow. Wendy's poems have appeared in newspapers and magazines. She lives with her son and is still a fan of snow!
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