The Outcast (Revisited)

 

He wasn't much different then the men who sat around that table, nor anyone else in this gory place. His eyes had soaked up so much blood and gore that they were red, making him just like the others. His hair wasn't an odd color like the shorter Englishman's. No, it was dark brown, almost like the Italian's or the American's.

 

The few differences between him and the others is what sectioned him off from the rest of the group.

 

He was a realist. While everyone he knew had dreams and hopes, he saw nothing but darkness when he closed his eyes and the truth when they were open. He gave up deeply on his hopes, abandoning them upon the side of the road.

 

The only other one was he was quiet and rightfully expressionless. Everyone, even the lesser expressional French man showed more expression than he ever seemed to. He also got very annoyed when people never stopped talking, so it forced him to be quiet.

 

At first, though, he didn't care what people thought or the fact that he was simply alone, but, after a slight drunken spree by his elder sister, he started growing a conscious about it. It just grew even more when the others started showing up with someone they simply couldn't let go. It grew so bad, that he had started hoping for something like that. 

 

But, after watching more and more of his 'friends' and a few failed attempts to even talk to a girl, he abandoned them like he had before. For who would get to know a quiet, unexpressional realist.

He growled slightly at the sight around him. Hate seemed to pour out of him as they walked through the gate of the colorful carnival. Never again were they allowing Oliver to pick what they were doing during a boring meeting.

 

His gaze went around slowly, taking in the lights as they lit the night sky brighter than anything he had ever seen. The music blaring from the speakers dashed randomly around the area made the Russian wince, the frequency making his head hurt.

 

He watched carefully as more and more of the group dispersed, each going on their own way sooner or later. He sighed as he walked over to an open table and sat down. He looked around once more, taking in the different booths that landed themselves just behind the gate.

 

He couldn't help but smile as he saw a small family walk up to a booth, a young girl wanting to win the big bear upon display. She begged her father to try and win the prize which held her eyes. A simple shooting game, but she needed another person to go against.

 

He felt himself push his body up and slowly walk over to the booth. He watched as the carny behind the game started shaking at the sight of the man. The group asked what was wrong before realizing the man who began to sit next to their daughter.

He smiled at the little one and asked what she was playing for and she replied with a wide grin exactly what her hope was. The Russian man nodded as he pulled out 3 dollars (Hey these games don't come cheap) and handed it over to the carny. The carny took it with a slight nod, muttering angrily on how a heartless man play with the young.

Vlad simply just rolled his eyes and put his hands on the gun. The objective of this game is to hit the bull's eye long enough to make your balloon pop, whoever did so first, won. This game was simply child's play. Yet, the little one next to him was so focused on winning the bear...

So he let her.

He aimed his gun onto the outside line of the target, making his balloon fill slowly. The girl next to him was giggling as she hit her target for a while, before she got an idea. She whipped around in her chair, turning her body and her gun so they were pointing at the mighty Russian. Her finger pulled the trigger to spray the focused man with water.

Vlad flinched when the water first hit him, causing the girl's parents to gasp in worry, but when he chuckled and aimed his gun to her, they let out a sigh. A squeal escaped the girls mouth as she continued her pressure upon the trigger. Vlad responded by doing the same.

Their laughter filled the air, and caused multiple random people to stop and watch them. Not many people have ever seen the man in black and red laugh as much as he had that night and, truthfully, he hoped it would never stop.

Then, a balloon popped.

Both of the figures stopped what they were doing to look upon the game. Little did they know, but Vlad would accidently spray the target every time he would spray the little girl. The carny pulled the bear down from where it hung and handed it to the soaked girl.

The smile on her face grew as her eyes gained a sparkle of innocence. Her arms wrapped around the animal in a tight hug as she got down and started walking with her parents. Vlad's smile slowly faded as he watched the little girl leave. When he thought she was out of sight, he got up and started walking the other way.

Only to be glomped behind by a smaller figure. He twisted his body slightly and was able to see the young girl clinging to his soaked black jacket. She looked up at him and smiled, giggling out a thank you before she broke, running back to her parents.

Vlad felt a small smile appear once again, only to disappear when one of his 'friends' found him. Turns out, it was the Chinese man. A smile was pasted onto the shorter man's face as he gained ground onto the taller giant.

"You should really get a girl," he spoke, causing the Russian to snort in protest before responding.

"What kind of insane woman would even think of going out with a heartless man?"

 

He walked softly across the cement, not truly caring if he was late for the meeting called at the pub. Heaven's forbid that they would actually talk about something when he was late. Especially since it was the day before the Country Masquerade Ball. He let out a sigh as he watched the empty road in front of him.

 

He didn't notice the pharmacy door right next to him.

 

The door was pushed open suddenly as a body barreled out of it, not noticing where they were going and ramming right into the Russian. He landed firmly on the ground, the air escaping his lungs when a hand was pressed against his gut while the elbow was forced into his leg. He cursed slightly when he felt the head slam into his chest.

 

As quickly as the weight came on, it disappeared.

 

"Oh my god," called a voice, a pair of hands going upon his cheeks, "I'm terribly sorry sir. A-are you alright?" Even with all the pain telling him to keep still, Vlad couldn't help but force his eyes open.

 

He was met with unnatural orange ones.

 

He shook his head slightly as he tried once again to soak in what it was he was looking at. A woman was looking down at him. She was the owner of the unnatural orange eyes, and her hair, straight and dark purple tied up into a high ponytail. She wore a blood red dress with a belt among the middle. Hung upon her arm was a bag filled with different paramedic items.

 

She was....different.

 

"Oh my god, your bleeding," she gasped when he sat up. Curious, and blood rushing down the Russian's forehead, caused him to lift his hand up slowly. Before it could reach it's desired point, the tanner skinned woman grabbed it and started dragging him towards an unknown destination.

 

"A forehead cut needs to be examined," she stated as she continued walking, Vlad making a slightly happy note about her strength, "A simple cut could cause you enough blood loss to be fetal. You're lucky I know a lot bout medicine and wounds."

 

She looked back at him for a second, only to gasp and speed up her footsteps. Not wanting to be left behind, Vlad speed up in time with her. Soon though, she was in a full out dash as she tried to get away from something. Suddenly, she turned a corner, causing Vlad to almost fall once again.

 

By the time he caught up to her, she had the lid of a garbage bin open, one that would barely fit both of them.

 

"Are you kidding me," Vlad opposed already, "There's no way..."

 

"He speaks," she calls suddenly, "Well, I'm sorry sweetie but unless you want to be met with the mafia brothers, you might just want to jump in here." Vlad sighed, the last thing he wanted to do was to run into a FAMILIAR face. He walked quickly over to her and hopped into the garbage container.

 

"Get comfortable," he heard her whisper, "Cause I'm climbing in." He moved himself slightly, he felt comfortable, back pressed firmly against the ground of the container as his knees were bent and against the wall. A slight light was enough as he watched her climb into the item before the lid closed, shrouding them in darkness.

 

He felt her place her feet softly on his chest, her rear end resting on his gut. He could slightly make out the sight of her body and the way her back and neck were bent to prevent herself from giving them away. He couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for her.

 

He put his hand upon her back and pulled her down close to his chest. She let out a small squeak as her body connected with most of his, her chest against his, her ankles upon his thighs, her knees resting alongside of his waist-line. He heard a slight slap as she covered her mouth to prevent herself from making any noise.

 

The two voices echoed off of the ally way walls. Only lasting for a few minutes before one talked the other into looking somewhere else. It was only a few minutes but it was unbearable for both of them. The woman started on her way out when she suddenly froze.

 

"What is-"

 

"Shh," she hushed him greatly, her hands softly closing the lid once again. He heard her curse slightly as he started hearing the footsteps. They grew louder and louder as the person grew closer and closer to the two's hiding place. Vlad felt the woman press against him once more as she barely whispered prayers.

 

The lid suddenly flew open, causing them to both jump as their gazes turned upwards.

 

"Well, well, well, look who we have here," the pale brown hair, dark purple eyed woman called down at them, "Someone found a boyfriend."

 

"And it looks like they're getting pretty close," growled a silver haired woman who's light brown eyes hidden by shades.

 

"H-he looks scary," shook a blue haired, brown eyed woman. Vlad looked to the purple haired one when she let out a sigh, her hand clutching where her heart should be.

 

"Don't scare me like that," she hissed, standing up suddenly, "I just met the man, plus, I highly doubt he's not taken." Vlad nuzzled his face into his scarf as he felt his face heat up, causing the other three girls to chuckle in amusement.

 

"What's so funny," growled the purple haired woman.

 

"Oh nothing," replied the light brown one as the three new faces turned to leave, "We'll just leave you two alone. Be back around 5." The woman next to him growled before she turned on her heal and went back to the garbage bin.

 

"My names DC by the way," she called, her arm disappearing as she searched for something, "I'd like to get yours after what had happened.

 

"I'm Vladimir, Vladimir Braginski," he stated calmly.

 

"Well, Vladimir," she said with a smile. She pulled the bag out, pulling the Band-Aid rap out of that, and walked to him. "Do you mind if I call you Vlad?" He respond with a simple nod of his head. She took the material and gently placed it around his head, thick enough to apply pressure and stop the bleeding.

 

"Good cause I would like to meet you again tomorrow," she started walking away, her bag of medical supplies back upon her arm, "At the Country Masquerade Ball tomorrow." Vlad felt himself nod before a question slipped into his mind.

 

How the hell did she know about the ball?!

 

He didn't know why he wanted to go, well,  that was a lie he knew why. The thing is he didn't know why he wanted to see her. She was completely, utterly weird. Yet, somehow, she stole his non-existing heart.

 

He placed his elbow upon the railing of the balcony, which had prevented so many fatalities, and resting his head upon his hand. He had examined every single person there and not s ingle one seemed to hold the exact qualities than that he met upon in the street.

 

He sighed as his other hand brought the mask up to his face, pressing firmly while he stood up, allowing the other hand to grab the band and pull it back enough to keep it upon his face. He looked down upon the beings who were there, adding more to his frown before he walked down to the dreaded floor.

 

He made a mental note on how everyone decided they would dress. Exactly the same. The other's made it clear that it wouldn't just be so confusing  but, for the one's who found them, it showed that your partner knew how to pick you out of a crowd.

 

That's why his hair was covered and he wore a stiff, expensive black tux instead of his comfy overcoat. All the woman there were wearing big, almost Victorian styled red dresses, which matched eloquently with all the men's dress shirts.

 

Just as he was about to reach the bottom of the stairs, a female was pushed into him. Instead of letting her fall, which is what he would've done before, he grabbed ahold of her and held her steady.

 

"Are you alright," he asked turning the woman around to check her. She nodded softly, her gaze glued to her dress as she started dusting it off.

 

"Just grand," she called, "Thanks for catching m-" She froze up when her eyes had found his. Vlad felt his body do the same as he looked past the dark mask and into the eyes hidden behind them.

 

They were those unnatural orange.

 

Vlad watched as a smile appeared on the woman's face, her eyes growing brighter in happiness. He offered her his hand and gently helped her back out onto the dance floor.

 

"I'm glad I found you," she whispered softly before turning in front of him and touching his scabbed forehead, "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

 

"Well, You shouldn't," he stated slightly coldly, "Russian's are known for being strong." This caused the woman to giggle.

 

"True, but being strong and brave is completely different than being strong and stupid," she groaned when she finished, holding her head slightly.

 

"You alright," he asked, putting a hand on her back to keep her upright. She nodded.

 

"Y-yeah, just a little dizzy is all," she sighed as she started walking towards the door, "I just need some fresh air. I should be back within a few minutes."

 

~skip~

 

Those few minutes slowly dragged their feet, slowly morphing into hours as the music was slowing. His fingers drummed against the table as he waited for her. Suddenly, the door opened, but it wasn't her.

 

It was the blue haired one, her hair messed up, causing strands to reveal themselves, and she looked in between terrified and utterly pissed.

 

"Flavio and Luciano where are you," she screamed, walking quickly as she examined each and every person that walked by her. Her brown eyes found his and immediately she came to his table.

 

"What's going on," he asked softly. The blue haired growled.

 

"It's DC," she stated, "I found her collapsed upon the balcony, poison was lined upon her dress and I know it was those to who did it!"

"Why," he asked, a bit confused as to why those two were so oppressed on the girl.

"She used to work as a doctor in the mafia," the woman explained quickly, "She was the best they had. Could heal any wound as long as it doesn’t kill them first. The first day she left, they followed her home and tried killing her, but we stopped them. Ever since then, though, they’ve been trying to kill her.”  Anger filled the tall man before he stood up and started looking with the crazed woman. After a while though, they weren't able to find either of them.

 

Then, Vlad saw a movement disappear onto the balcony. He growled slightly, his mind finally piecing together what they were doing. He slowly pushed his feet forward, following the moving figure slightly as he led the way. He started hearing two voices in a heated battle, and followed them.

 

“Luciano we shouldn’t do this,” the blonde one tried talking some sense into his younger brother, “If that realistic man finds out what we’re doing or done, he’ll come out and hunt us down!” The Russian’s view was just enough to watch as the darker haired brother smacked the blonde one.

 

“Pull yourself together. You know the rules of the mafia,” the brunet screamed before stooping down to the body on the floor, “She’ll die before she’ll be allowed to leave.” Vlad watched as the Italian pulled the woman up by her hair, his body giving himself up to the blood lust that has been building up.

 

Both Italians turned to him when multiple Kols erupted his opened mouth. A thick, dark red aura clouded his face as he glared up at the other males, his hand slowly pulling a shovel out from his fancy outfit. He watched with a smirk as the blonde started shaking in fear.

 

“That’s more like you will die before you’re allowed to leave,” he growled, his voice hitting the lowest notes of a bass. His hand clutched the neck of the tool, the brunet smirking as he handed the unconscious woman to his brother, pulling a knife out when he turned around.

 

“Let’s dance,” the Italian cooed.

 

With this statement, the mighty Russian moved like freight train towards its target. His boots, which he had rightfully switched out for his dress shoes, gripped onto the floor of the balcony as he bent his body in a demonic way, trying to hit across Luciano’s face.

 

The Italian took one simple step backwards, the tip of the shovel rushing past his face. Luciano, in turn, took his knife and, as the Russian was blowing past him, flicked his wrist, cutting the man’s gut like a trout. The bigger man stumbled when his feet hit the floor once more, he coughed slightly, blood gently escaping his lips as he readied himself.

 

For it was the Italian’s turn to attack.

 

The boots of the dark Italian dug as he bent his back till he was almost a ball. He barled towards the Russian at unbelievable speeds. The taller man held the shovel tighter and bent his arms awkwardly…

 

To prevent the man from cutting into his heart.

 

A grizzly, bear growl escaped Vlad’s throat before he turned around quickly, cutting the cheek of Luciano with his own blade before the sharper end of his tool connected with his temple, knocking him out.

 

His bright blood red eyes glared over to the Blonde Italian, who was shaking so much that the woman in his arms started waking up. Vlad stood up and slowly walked to him, every step an earthly shutter as he gained ground. When he was only a few feet away, he held out his arm.

 

“Give her,” he commanded. Flavio, not wanting to meet the same fate as his brother…this one time, gave the woman up. Vlad shook him off, muttering words which encouraged his leave, and made it quicker. When he was gone did Vlad turn to the body in his hands. A smile is what he was met with. It was a weak one, but it was a smile.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, body still weak with the after effects of the poison, “For standing up for me.” Vlad nodded, the adrenaline he had was wearing down and he could feel how bad his body was damaged. His lungs screamed and pushed, causing a cough to irradiate from within.

 

He watched her face twist and bend in horror while the warmth of blood rolled down his chin, turning his dress shirt even a darker red than what the cut had done. His legs grew so weak, he let go of her and fell down to his knees, then soon onto his side. He coughed again, more blood spewing from his mouth.

 

“Oh no,” she whispered before turning and screaming, “Someone, anyone, call an ambulance!” She went down onto her hands and knees and crawled over to him, tears striking her eyes as she starts cradling his head with her hands. She grabbed a hold of her dress and pulled, ripping the material before placing it upon the cut, using her glove to dry off the excess on his chin as best as she could.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as his vision started fading, “I didn’t want for you to be tangled up in this.” She pulled his head close to hers. “I just wish my past wouldn’t be so dark.” Vlad, knowing his was darker, lifted a shaking hand up to her face. He opened his mouth to say something, but only blood came out.

 

She teared up even more as she put on a smile. “Shh,” she cooed softly, “Don’t talk,” she applied more pressure to his cut, “You’ve loss so much blood…”She whispered something unintelligible to the male, just before he was met with darkness.

 

 

 

The soft luring beep from a heart monitor drug the Russian through his own self-consciousness.  He flinched slightly as his eyes opened slowly, the darkness fading as slow as gravy. He looked around, taking in the monochromatic room, a small thing of daisies on his left. He felt himself smile, only to stiffen up when he felt something upon his lower leg move.

 

He got enough courage, as well as force, to move his head to see who it was that caused such a movement. There she laid, her purple hair down as if she had torn it out while waiting for him to wake up. His red eyes watched as she stirred again, pain and worry plastered onto her face before she opened her eyes.

 

Their gazes met and it happened to be a while before he saw tears welling up within her eyes. He put on a gentle smile as she sat up. She began shaking her head when he started muttering thank you.

 

“No,” she cried, “Don’t you understand? You wouldn’t even be in this situation if it wasn’t for me! If I would’ve just left like Let always tells me-“ She let out a small squeal when the Russian pulled her down, onto him, and into a hug. Vlad could feel his heart threatening to jump out of his chest, but he had applied enough pressure to prevent anything from happening.

 

“I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he whispered, moving his head to place it in the crook of her neck, “I’m glad someone cares about me.” He could feel her start shaking beneath his grip, tears rolling down her cheeks. He thought that they were tears of sadness, only to find out that they were actually tears of happiness.

 

“As do I,” she whispered before hugging him, forgetting about his wounds till he hissed in pain. “Oh my Gosh, I’m so sorry!” She hopped off and moved his gown to start on checking his bandage. Vlad, on the other hand, couldn’t help but smile as he watched her.

 

Finally, he had found that one person.

 

 

 

 

The one person who cared about him over all others.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The one insane woman….

 

 

 

 

 

Who could love….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The heartless man.