Rush in

Soundtrack: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGG6aM0cMew&feature=related



My steps were a cold ephemerality in the crisp Russian snow. A wolf cap sat on my eyebrows, my eyes busy scouring the landscape, which proved invisible past 50 meters. A red glow spread from the men around me, turning the snowflakes to blood. A black horse's looming body was barely visible, coming towards us through the snow. It carried Gorakov, a trusted officer, who had been sent ahead of the ranks, with hopes that he could bring back clearer information about our proximity to the destination, for we were in a immeasurable cloud of vulnerability and confusion. Upon Gorakov's return and a quick hand off of information to our leader,  Lenin turned to us and announced we would arrive before nightfall.

I wiped my eyelashes so that ice crystals would not weigh them down, for exhaustion was more than able on it's own. I kept seeing her white frame ahead of me, or glimpsed it to my left or right. It was odd, because she was as white as the sky behind her, yet I could make out her silhouette perfectly. There was a blinding beauty in this goddess. I knew it was Nikola. Her black hair was long, and she was victory. The faster I walked, the further she was from me. But I reached out for her flowing hair, and marched harder.

Soon later, a startling image befell us. After having seen no protrusions of landscape higher than such much as a hill, this green and white behemoth shadowed us with doubt. Lenin seemed hardly affected, and we lifted our feet higher in false confidence, the way men of valor always do. The black iron gates came to us, rather, and summoned us inside. Our hearts beat for the sake of the red army. For the sake of justice, and an end to oppression, we marched. Here, I could see much farther a distance around me, for the mass of stone nicely blocked wind and then blindness it carried. Maybe it was a daze I was in, like when you stand up too fast from a hot bath, but looking around, I felt the company of less men than I had at the journey's start. Nikola took my elbow, and I walked with a bravery. I took three steps, thinking of almost nothing, my mind as white as the sky. On the fourth, I walked into a cossack's shrill bullet.

To be not only duly noted, but tripley noted: This here red revolution, called the "October Revolution", in fact took place during November by our calendar, but for the sake of convenience and my impetuous fascination with those damn Russians, we will ignore this truth. Lenin obviously crushed the ill-prepared forces guarding the palace, he just told his red army to "rush in" (hehehe) and put himself a step closer to ruling over a Soviet Russia.