It was difficult to walk in Siberia, even in July it was difficult, the snow never left the Urals and this made it very difficult to walk, but this couldn't be truer for Anastasia, she already felt tired beyond everything; she wanted to cry, to shout, to be angry, to feel that she was alive; but more than anything she wanted, no, she desperately needed to find herself back, even in the Ipatiev house, it didn't matter where it was, even if there were the Bolsheviks there; what she wanted was to be with her family and discover that this was only a sick dream, a nightmare; to wake up in the cot, with her sisters in the room and hug them all tightly, and be together.

But that is impossible, they were dead and she was alive and the state she was in, was enough proof that even a nightmare couldn't feel so real; her cheeks were red from all the tears and the cold, her eyes swollen, her throat dry and sometimes a breathless sob escaped from her lips, even if they were firmly closed, and if this wasn't bad enough, the cold Russian night in Siberia was making her shaking with cold; it was a harsh cold, one that enters the skin and arrives in the bones chilling her even more.

She didn't know where she was going, since falling from the truck that was transporting her family bodies, she had started wandering without any direction, but with only one goal to get as far away as she can from the Soviets; the forest didn't allow her to see the sky, she was walking on pure instinct.

"Anastasia, stop"

She froze on the spot, her head slowly turned and she saw him, Gleb Vagarov, one of the Bolsheviks that had murdered her family yesterday night or this early morning, and to think that a few days earlier she considered him a friend, she had been naive, she thought to herself after all a Bolshevik was and will forever be a Bolshevik. He was standing there with a gun in his hand, pointing at the ground. On his green uniform, there was some blood. He was looking at her with sad eyes, he wasn't the only one who didn't want to see the other, neither of them had forgotten what had happened in the basement.

"You know that you can't call me that, you can only call me citizen Romanova that is what you pigs have to call me, did you forget about that, comrade Vagarov?" She said after having gathered herself.

"No, I did not; I just want to talk to you," he said quietly and patiently.

She laughed humorlessly at him, "Sure, sure let's talk about how you and your fellow pigs failed to kill me" she said with venom and sarcasm.

"I didn't come here to talk about that, but I came to talk to you about an offer that I have for you," he said trying to sound as kindly as possible.

"What is it? To aim at my head next time you shoot at me?" She said defiantly and with a crazy glee in her eyes.

"Anastasia" he signed, inclining his head forward and rubbing his eyes with his free hand, "If I wanted to kill you I would have already done that"

She just rolled his eyes and snorted, in response.

"My offer to you, is my protection and care for you; you have survived and I can easily cover your survival, if my superiors find out about it, they won't stop until they have killed you and I can make sure that nobody finds out about it" he simply offered stretching out his free hand.

"How kind of you, you're making me feel like, I'm in debt with your generosity, I could never be able to do something as kind as you do," she said sarcastically and with a smug smile, "but this isn't free is it, what is it that you want?"

"In exchange for my protection, all that I want is your love, and that you change the name," he said earnestly and with a shy smile, making him appear like a young boy talking to his crush.

This infuriated Anastasia beyond anything, she clenched her fists and shouted "So this is what you want? You half-witted of a pig, my answer is NO, I would never love a pig and I would never and ever be with a murderer"

Gleb clenched too his fists and frowned angrily at her and firmed his lips, pressing them into a thin line, making him appear to Anastasia like a spoiled kid when he receives a no.

"How dare you?" She whispered dangerously, with her voice rising at every word "How dare you to come here to me and pretend, that we can be friends even lovers after what you did to my family and me, have you not looked at me? Have you not seen what you have done? And don't act as if you didn't shoot a bullet, you shoot at me, then you acted like them, we both know it, you aimed at my heart did you forget about that? And did you also forget that you stabbed me with a bayonet?"

"I saved you" He shouted angrily, defending what little dignity was left.

"Thank you" she responded sarcastically. "What do want a medal and kiss?"

"It was I who made sure that nobody knew that you were alive, it was thanks to me that nobody stabbed you or shot at you," he whispered angrily stomping his foot down.

She stepped back, the fresh memories returning to her; but this also brought anger, hot magmatic anger that was now flowing through her veins.

"Do not pretend that you were innocent, that you deserve some respect o love, when they can only be earned; and don't even start pretending that you are my savior when you are the one who reduced me to this, you may think that now I'm your princess who is asking to be saved, but if you think of me that way than you never knew me," she thundered pointing her finger at him, before ending with one last judgment, "you may think that the present will glorify you, but history will judge you harshly, God already has"

He stood silent and clenched his jaw, he tried to speak but no sound came. He could only look at her, at her wrecked body; her blue nightgown that she had worn, was now violet thanks to the blood, there wasn't an inch of the vest that didn't have blood on it, he knew that it was hers mixed with the blood of her family members and on top of that it was red, not the blue that he had imaged, if he was honest he would say that he was disappointed that they didn't have blue blood because then it would be another valid excuse, for the massacre justifying it also with the cleansing of something different, and not just as doing something for the communist party.

She was also injured, she was clutching her side, and she wasn't standing straight instead she was inclining forward, with the risk of falling at any moment and her nightgown had holes made by the bullets and she had slashes made by the bayonets, one of the holes was just over her heart, Gleb knew that it was his shoot, in the basement he had aimed at her heart, he had hoped that she would die instantly and suffer nothing, but he had missed and he could still remember the shock on her face, the fear and above all of them, there was the feeling of betrayal expressed loud and clear on her petite face, it was his betrayal, he didn't like shooting at her nor did he like stabbing her, but what could he have done? Betray the party?

That was out of the question, his father had died in the 1905 revolution, killed by the guards of the tsar, and Gleb as a good son and Russian had joined the communist party, becoming a Bolshevik, then he also joined the Cheka, the secret police, since 1918 he had been assigned as a guard, in Ipatiev house, guarding the Romanovs; he would have never thought that he would have become friendly with one of them, and not only did he became friend with one of them, but he fell in love with her, Anastasia the youngest daughter but the one with the biggest personality, she was charming, with a big smile, always telling jokes and doing some mischief, lightening up the mood in the house, but was always the first one to defend and protect the others, like her sister Maria; her family had somewhat given up the fighting spirit, with the illnesses and morale had gone down for them, but not for her, her spirit had always remained strong.

He liked her, he had a crush/love on her, but he wasn't so weak to bend for his feeling towards her, he would end this once and for all; the royal family will soon be only a memory, and he Gleb Vagarov a proud and loyal Bolshevik, will now complete his revenge for his father, prove to Yurovsky that he was wrong about him, he will not let his weakness win, he'll destroy it, she along with it; he had shot at the tsarina and the tsar and who knows who else, and finally he will complete his revenge by finally eradicating the royal family, he may have loved her, but what was his revenge compared to her?

Anastasia seeing him aiming his pistol at her did not tremble nor showed any kind of fear, so she spoke, her voice emotionless just like her face "So we both made our final choice " she stooped talking and smiled looking at the sky, the moon could be seen, and then she spoke "at least I can die without any regret, if one told me I would relive this life again and again in eternity, I would accept it and enjoy everything again"

"Even after how everything turned out?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"Since the revolution, I did everything for my family, and I enjoyed every second of it, I was strong because they needed me to be strong, I kept their spirits up because they needed it, I lived with altruism, you instead have lived only for your selfish gain, what can you say about your life, was it worth living?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line and clenched his jaw, how dare she, a royal who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, who had everything but never returned anything to the people, "All that I do is for the good of Russia, and the communist party, the White Russian have proclaimed you and your family as leaders, of their movement and now I would eradicate all that is left of the old regime so that a new regime that will lead Russia to glory may be born" he spoke harshly.

"Would you kill even children for this desire of yours?"

"I would kill even pregnant women for the good of the Bolsheviks," before declaring proudly, "I am the son of my father, who was killed by your father and now I'll make sure that he didn't die in vain; his goal was the destruction of tsarism, and now with you, it would all die"

"And I am the daughter of the true ruler of Russia, Tsar Nicholas II, daughter of the Romanov family who ruled Russia for more than three hundred years, descendant of great Tsars like Peter the Great, Chaterine the Great, and Alexander II the Liberator; granddaughter of Tsar Alexander III who fought against terrorists like you and your party, because he understood the fundamental truth about your organizations, that in the end, all of you are a bunch of power-hungry, angry people, who's lives aren't even worth to be lived, who don't mind killing innocent; can you prove the contrary, terrorist?"

He shot at her, this time he did not miss, the bullett hit her in the heart, but surprisingly this did not kill her, she instead fell forward, with a shriek of pain and started coughing up blood. This wasn't what he had predicted, unfortunately, this was his last bullet so he won't be able to reload the gun, but it didn't matter, he was going to wait until she was dead, so walked to her and kneeled so he was on her level; she raised her head with what strength she had left and looked at him defiantly and with a determinate look.

"Stop fighting death, accept it, at least you would be with your parents and family," he said with a smug smile, relishing in the fact that he had killed Anastasia Romanov, the last survivor of the empirical family.

She in response straighten up as much as she could, frowned angrily at him, and spat at him in the face.

To which he responded by slapping her, such insolence, he thought, since meeting her, she had always been that, and this made him chuckle.

"Spatting is very unladylike, what would your German whore of a mother say" he taunted, enjoying her fury "but you never listened to her, did you?"

"Shut up," she said, if he were sane he would comply immediately, her voice was very threatening and the fury in her eyes could melt the snow, and also she shaking but not out of fear, instead it was out of anger, but in his mind, she couldn't do anything to him, so he continued.

"But maybe you would listen to your father, but he can't speak now, can he?" He laughed "Not because he is dead but because he doesn't have a face any-"

He stopped with a gasp, he immediately put his hand on his throat, and when he removed it, he saw blood, his blood; he then looked at her, with wide scared eyes; then he saw what had hit him, in her hand, she had a stone, no, it was a broken gem that had a sharp tip; he didn't have time to think before she pushed him back and stabbed him with the gem until there was no life inside of him, his last thought was that he had failed, his father and the party, and that is how he will be remembered, Gleb Vagarov the failure, the one who failed to kill the last Romanov, his overconfidence had coated him everything.

She continued stabbing him, even after he was dead, she stabbed him and stabbed him, because it felt good to take revenge for what had happened, she didn't just stab him in the throat but also on the torso, until she didn't have the strength to continue.

She threw the emerald away on the snow painting it red, she survived the bullets for the second time, thanks to her mama, she had wanted her daughters to wear the gems in their corsets, so that the Bolsheviks wouldn't take them; nobody knew it that the gems could withstand a bullet, this had been an unfortunate discovery for her sister who had died slowly, but she who had merely looked dead, was able to deceive the Bolsheviks, who were already drunk and proud of their work, that is how she survived the massacre. This time she survived thanks to the gems and mostly for her luck, this time she would have died was it not for the gem and for the pendant her grandmama gave her, they had absorbed the impact and thus saving her life.

That is when she noticed what she had done, his body brutally killed on the ground, the snow painted red; her eyes widening by the second in fear and shock. She then looked at her hands, which were dripping blood, and couldn't contain the tears that escaped from her eyes, she sobbed uncontrollably. She had killed somebody, and not just killed him, but brutally murdered; and worst of all, the revenge didn't felt any good, it left a void even bigger, insatiable. How would her family react to what she had done?

Anastasia couldn't help but have flashbacks, she could still see her papa on the floor lifelessly his face unrecognizable, thanks to the bullets, her mama shout, interrupted by the roar of the guns aimed at her, she and her sisters screaming and the fear in the eyes of Alyosha...

No, she couldn't think about that, clutching her head between her hands and she cried, and now she sobbed harder than ever, she screamed between sobs, "why have I survived, why? Why?"

She knew the answer was because God wanted it to happen, as her papa always said, they had suffered because they were like Job, one day God will reward them with even greater things, and this made her cry, even more. Was God willing to throw away his most devoted followers, like her mama who has always been faithful to God praying and praying each day, and was always grateful to him; after he had no further use of them? No, no she was overthinking and she had to have faith in God in his wisdom that it can't be understood by humans' minds, as her mama always said. She could only cry for what felt like an eternity.

After much time, and especially after having gathered herself up; she stood up, always clutching her side, she knew that she was injured and that she needed care, so she decided to return to the Ipatiev house, a sense of dread rose in her, but where could she go? She didn't know Ekaterinburg, and there were many bolsheviks, and she couldn't wander in the forest for much longer, somebody could find her or she could die out of fatigue, so the Ipatiev house was the best place to go, she knew the consequences that would happen if somebody found her, but she didn't care, if Yurovsky kills her, she won't nor beg nor cry, if that was her fate; she had nothing to live for anymore even if her survival instincts which had saved her life before were still present and very much active.

The path to the house wasn't easy more than once she tripped on some roots that were hidden by the snow, but she arrived at the house by sunrise, there was no one there, the many guards that had occupied the building were nowhere to be seen, the house looked as always with the windows still painted white. The door hadn't been closed, she entered and looked at the small corridor, it was strange and chilling walking again in this house. While walking she had to sustain herself on the wall especially after seeing the door, that door the only door that mattered to her, the one that leads to the basement, she felt nauseous, and fell to the ground, almost throwing up; the flashbacks returned, Masha being... No, no she mustn't think of that, it will bring her too much pain, she closed her eyes and began to regain control of her breathing, which had become too quick and but she couldn't stop the tears that had returned.

She went upstairs, in the office of doctor Botkin, she knew what to search for, she had helped in the hospital in Sant Peterburg, she needed a disinfectant and a few bandages, it wasn't what truly she needed, but it will be enough for the time being; it was just enough for not dying out of infection, she took the disinfectant, opened it and poured it all on herself, she couldn't help but scream in pain, as it made contact with her injuries, she had to sustain herself with the writing desk, she then proceeded to bandage herself, she didn't remove her corset, as it was too difficult and she didn't have the strength to do it.

She then went into their room, always supporting herself on the wall, she is very quick once she enters, she knows where the better clothes are and where the music box is, she can't allow herself to look at her sister's beds. After entering she immediately goes to the wardrobe, her eyes locked on the ground, but despite all of her best efforts her eyes wander to her sister's bed, and for the briefest moment she saw it, the beds were as they had left them still in their disorder, with blankets half on the ground; she tripped on herself and fell forward hitting harshly the wooden floor, and looking at the beds in disordef, she realized, that it was the only time in all of their existence that the beds had been left in disorder; and as it hit her, she couldn't help but cry and cry, only now it fully hit her the realizationn, that they were gone and she would never see them again, that of the OTMA or NAOTMAA, remained just an A, a part of her wanted to commit suicide so that she could be reunited with them, but God doesn't like the people who commit suicide, and her mama would disapprove of that act; if only Gleb had killed her, no, it was her fault if she had survived, if she hadnt killed him, if she had not done that, she wouldn't be here, she would be now dead with her family.

She leaned on the wardrobe for more than an hour, the only sound was her breathe and the ticking of the clock, she had run out of tears; in a way she was waiting for Yurovsky and his men to come and finish the job, hours passed but nobody came, every once in a while she heard the bell of the church ringing. She rose and took some clothes from the wardrobe and changed herself, she took the music box that her nana had gifted her and put it in a pocket.

In the hours she had spent waiting she had pondered on her future and had made her final choice, she chose to survive, to live; maybe this was the result of her survival instincts dominating her or a choice made by herself, but it didn't matter what truly mattered was how she chose to live, she won't hide in the shadow, she'll live like she always did with her head high, she'll bow to no one but herself; hut the most important thing is that she has a goal to reach in her mind, her goal was also to find the Whites and help them against their fight against the Bolsheviks, she like all of her family was a proud Russian and she wasn't going to let her nation in the hands of the enemy, even if it cost her life; her family may have disapproved violence, but now that's what Russia needs, that's what the Bolshevik will receive, she may have looked like a doll to many, but now the fire in her heart was going to burn all of her enemies if necessary.

After changing herself, she put the music box in the pocket of her coat. She took a handkerchief for covering herself, she still has the blood-filled nightgown, but now she has put on a coat to cover herself from the harsh cold, and now she also put on shoes finally protecting her cold-filled feet. She didn't where the whites were, but one thing is certain in Ekaterinburg there are no whites, she will take the train and hope that in the next cities there are whites.

The journey to the train station proves to be easier than she thought it would be, everybody, minds their own business, for precaution she keeps her head as low as possible, eyes looking only in front of her, as she goes through Ekaterinburg, the station is outside the city as she arrives the train is whistling, and ready to leave; so she runs as fast as she can, as to catch the train.

She catches it without problems; after boarding the train, she enters the penultimate coach and sits in the only free cabin, as the train is leaving the city; Anastasia allows herself to relax a little, it has been far too long since she has looked at the landscape, the sun is setting, and the landscape is very beautiful, and this brings her joy, but even this joy can't change the fact, that from now and forevermore, she'll have a void inside of her, after all, she was the lone survivor.

Hello everyone, thanks for reading this chapter and in the next one we'll meet Dmitry, and please share and review, Bye-bye.