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User blog:Rapnoize/Project Legacy New (Probably Holiday) Data Dump/DATA-DUMP S00.S02

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Memory Details

Subject: Nikolai Andreievich Orelov

Location: Russian Empire

Time Period: 1917

Polzuchaya Tvar

I no longer consider myself a crusader for change, but I must find the splinter of the artifact. First, however, I need to learn more about it.

Siberian Winter

Siberian Winter.

The road to Krasnoyarsk is a lonely one. The sky is dark, moonless. Snow creaks underneath my horse's hooves. I shiver, but not because of the cold.

  • l have been here— or near here— before, not so long ago. No doubt the people of Krasnoyarsk have felt the tremors of the explosion.
  • l was younger then, dedicated, but arrogant, angry. Yet I followed the Mentor's plans to the letter, convinced that victory of the Brotherhood was all that mattered. *Krasnoyarsk is quiet. My arrival, in the middle of the night, will remain unnoticed. My business here will soon be over— provided I find the one I seek.
  • l pass by Krasnoyarsk's Svyato-Troitsky Cathedral, but cannot help thinking about that fateful night, when the Royal Staff shattered. I need to concentrate.
  • Here at last! The walls enclosing the asylum are easy to climb. The guards are few; most of them inebriated. I slip inside and, quietly, reach my goal.
  • She sits alone in her cell. Her face, horribly disfigured, has a hole where a nose should be. The "monster" I was looking for— more repulsive than Baba Yaga!

The Asylum

The Asylum.

She runs cracked fingers upon her bald head, staring at me. Her eyes, kindly despite a seemingly inhuman face, are mesmerizing. I cannot look away. W'Khioniya Kuzminichna Guseva," I say, somewhat harshly. "You have attempted to murder the monk Grigori Rasputin." She nods; a barely perceptible gesture.

  • The rather pitiful excuse of a lock provides no challenge. I open the door and Guseva takes several steps back. "I am not here to pass judgment. I seek only answers."
  • "l know nothing!" Guseva's voice is strong, confident, but somehow devoid of emotion. Three years in this madhouse, yet she seems quite sane.
  • "You may know more than you think." I truly hope she does. "I offer you freedom. All I ask in return is that you answer a few questions."
  • "Only through death can one be truly free." Guseva's voice is like a knife's edge. She smiles— a dreadful grimace. "You will get me out of this misery!" *l order Guseva to follow me. She hesitates, so I take her hand— the hand which held the knife that disemboweled the Mad Monk— and guide her outside.

The Holy Devil

The Holy Devil.

A handful of kopeks is more than enough to bribe the priest. We sit in a darkened corner of the Svyato-Troitsky Cathedral. Here, we can talk privately.

  • A black scarf hides Guseva's monstrous face, but her eyes shine brightly in the candlelight. "Tell me what happened," I whisper.
  • "l was a disciple of Father Grigori, the Holy Devil." This is not the voice of a madwoman. "We had traveled to Pokrovskoe, his hometown."
  • "lt was midsummer." Guseva lowers the scarf, revealing her ravaged face. "A day, perhaps two, after the feast of the nativity of St. John the Forerunner."
  • "l was waiting for Father Grigori outside of church, as he had ordered. When I saw him, I... I charged, stabbed him deeply, in the belly."
  • "l raised the knife up to his navel, to make sure he would die!" Guseva's voice trembles. "His insides... they... fell out! He... He clutched at them... And SMILED at me!" W"l screamed, 'I have killed the Antichrist!', but I was wrong. What kind of man can survive this?" One who carries a splinter of the Royal Staff, no doubt.

Omnious Prophecy

Omnious Prophecy.

In the gloom, Guseva remains silent, as though waiting for me to pass judgment. I do not move. I do not speak. She takes my hand, squeezes it.

  • "You have to understand!" Guseva says at last. "The Holy Devil had a POWER over people... Over me! His eyes were blue. Sinful eyes!"
  • "The scars!" Guseva caresses her ruined face. "My nose!" She points to the hole where her nose should be. "He made me do it! The Holy Devil made me do it!"
  • "You did this to yourself?" My voice cracks. Suddenly, tears stream down Guseva's scarred face. Of course, Rasputin had the means to control her.
  • "He used to say 'Death is near me. She is crawling towards me like a whore.' That day, he expected me to try to kill him. And fall."
  • "Rasputin prophesized the attempt on his life," I say. "He knew he would not die." The splinter from the Staff! Could it be this powerful?
  • Guseva takes my hand into hers. "End my sufferings! Now!" She does not utter a sound when my hidden blade runs through her heart. She only smiles.
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