Chapter Text
MAY 13, 1999
MOSCOW, RUSSIA
The night was cold and snowy as seven-year-old Misha Mikhailova trembled in bed, with her covers pulled tight up to her chin. Her doll-like eyes darting back and forth from her closet doors to the wide-open doorway of her bedroom. Before her father had left her room that night, after tucking the small girl into bed, Misha asked him to leave the door open in case a monster tried to get her in the night. He huffed a small laugh at her request but obliged, nonetheless. If a monster came, she would easily be able to sprint out of her room and to the protection of her parents.
Misha had been quite spooked by the story her older brother had decided to tell her and their younger brother that night. Viktor had a way with storytelling, being the oldest at thirteen years of age with a much broader vocabulary than either Misha or five-year-old Zakhar. Viktor always told his younger siblings a story before they were all sent off to bed, usually tales of faraway lands and mythical creatures (Misha’s favorite of Viktor’s stories had been about a beautiful fairy who fell in love with a human and gave away her wings to be with him, and Misha had Viktor tell it often), but tonight his story had not been magical or enchanting magical or enchanting - it had been horrifying.
His story had been about a monster made of shadows that snuck into children’s rooms at night to take them to its cave deep in the woods, all so it could feed from the children during its hibernation. Little Zak had not been as frightened by the story, as he had fallen asleep in their mother’s arms halfway through. Misha, however, listened to the story in its entirety, curled up on their father’s lap in his grand armchair. Her little fist clutched the fabric of their father’s coat tightly. Each time Misha gasped or jumped at a particularly shocking part of Viktor’s story, their father would chuckle quietly, only to be scolded by the little girl for laughing at her fear.
With every little noise the Mikhailov family home made at night, Misha’s small body twitched in fear at every single one of them. She wanted to sprint out of her room already and hide within her father’s arms just as she did when listening to Viktor’s story, but what if the monster was roaming the house, headed towards her room? She didn’t want to accidentally run into it, so she must wait until she could set eyes on the monster and know exactly where it was before running away. Despite how heavy her eyelids had gotten, she refused to let them shut; she would not be taken by the monster tonight.
The floorboards just outside her room began to creak softly, and a fearful moan escaped Misha’s throat. She hoped that it was just Zak coming to crawl into bed with her after one of his nightmares. At least then she would not be alone. The monster wouldn’t be able to take them both, right? But it was not Zak. Misha couldn’t hear the light padding of his tiny feet, just the floorboards creaking beneath a quiet, yet heavy set of footsteps. The footsteps creeped closer and closer towards her room. Misha let out a small whine, hiking the covers up over her nose so that only her eyes showed. A dark figure began to loom within the doorway, stalking slowly into her room. It closed the door behind itself. Misha tensed, and her heart beat violently against her chest. She could not escape.
The dark figure tilted its head to the side, eyeing Misha curiously. The shadow monster was tall. Its eyes looked large and gray, sunken deep into its face. The monster had no mouth, just a flat shadow where one should be.
It reached its arm out to the side, toward the door, and suddenly the light came on, temporarily blinding Misha, but she forced her eyes to stay open. The monster was blurry now. Its other arm reached up towards its head and began to tear off its face. That was when Misha finally shut her eyes, squealing as she pulled the cover all the way over her head.
“Ne boysya, malysh,” a gruff voice spoke out to her gently. “YA zdes’ ne dlya togo, chtoby prichinit’ tebe bol’.” [TRANSLATION: “Don’t be afraid, little one. I am not here to hurt you.”]
Slowly, Misha peeled the cover away from her face to look at the monster once again, but the monster was not there. In its place stood a man dressed in all black. He was very pale, as though he had not seen the sun in centuries, and his hair was long and greasy. Somehow, he scared her more than the monster. She could reason that the monster was just her imagination, like her mother often told her many things were, but this man was real, and Misha had never seen him before in her life.
Misha’s eyes never left the man as he slowly approached her, a scream trapped within her throat. “YA zdes’, chotoby otpravit’sya s toboy v priklyucheniya, Misha.” He knelt beside her bed and smiled kindly at her. [TRANSLATION: “I am here to take you on an adventure, Misha.”]
Up close, Misha could truly see the man’s eyes. They were not deep and gray like the monster she thought he was; they were a striking ice blue, yet they were warm and kind as they gazed down at the girl.
Misha relaxed a bit, letting the entirety of her tiny round face show. Her dark chestnut colored hair a tangled mess on her pillow. “Otkuda ty znayesh’ moye imya?” Her voice squeaked as she spoke. [TRANSLATION: “How do you know my name?”]
“YA mnogoye znayu o tebe, Misha.” The man reached out tentatively over Misha and grabbed the large, white stuffed bear beside her. “Ty ochen’ osobennaya devushka.” He nuzzled the bear gently against her face, making her giggle. He couldn’t help but laugh softly with her. [TRANSLATION: “I know many things about you, Misha. You are a very special girl.”]
Once her giggles died down, Misha stared at the man for a moment. Her golden doe eyes took him in thoughtfully. She wanted to trust the man. He had been nothing but nice her. “Priklyu cheniye?” She asked timidly. [TRANSLATION: “An adventure?”]
“Da, no dolzhny skoro ukhodit’, malysh.” The man seemed sad suddenly, but he tried his best to keep his smile up for Misha. [TRANSLATION: “Yes, but we have to leave soon, little one.”]
The girl grinned up at the man as she sat up in her bed. “Togda ya dolzhen vzyat’ svoye pal’to.” She slid down off the bed and stood in front of the man. “Yesli ty uzhe znayesh’ moye imya, kak mne tebya nazyvat’?” [TRANSLATION: “Then I should grab my coat.” “If you already know my name, what should I call you?”]
The man stared blankly at Misha for a second, unsure of how to respond. His brows furrowed while he thought, fighting hard to find his own name. “ Zovi menya Zima,” he finally said, uncertain. [TRANSLATION: “Call me Winter.”]
Misha smiled up at him and held out her left hand for him to shake. “Priyatno poznakomiy’sya, Zima.” [TRANSLATION: “It’s nice to meet you, Winter.”]
Hesitantly, Zima grasped her tiny hand in his – shiny silver fingers wrapping lightly around Misha’s soft, pale pink flesh. Misha stared at the hand in awe. “Pochemu tvoya ruka sdelana iz metalla?” [TRANSLATION: “Why is your hand made of metal?”]
Zima pulled his hand away from her and balled it into a fist for a moment. “YA ne uveren. Tak bylo, skol’ ko va sebya pomnyu.” He eyed the hand warily, like he didn’t trust it, like it was not truly his. [TRANSLATION: “I’m not sure. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember.”]
“Nu, ya dumayu, chto eto deystvitel’no kruto.” Zima grinned at her again. [TRANSLATION: “Well, I think it’s really cool.”]
It didn’t take long for Misha to find her coat and snow boots. Zima helped her get them on, making sure her puffy red coat was zipped all the way up to her chin. He made absolute certain that she was warm, for there was a long, cold journey ahead of them before either could be in a warm building again.
Zima lifted Misha up like she weighed nothing and secured her in his metal arm. It was safest to carry her like that; no chance of that arm giving out any time soon.
“Zhdat’! Moy medved’!” Misha squealed loudly when they started to head out of her room. Zima shushed her, but grabbed the bear for her anyway, tucking it in her arms between them. Misha smiled, pulled her hood up, and rested her head on his shoulder. Zima knelt to pick his mask up from the floor and put it back on. The lower half of his face was completely covered. Misha realized that was why the monster had no mouth. [TRANSLATION: “Wait! My bear!”]
The bedroom light was cut off, and Zima made his way out of the Mikhailov family home with Misha and her bear tucked securely in his side. He was quieter this time. None of the floorboards creaked, and his steps made absolutely no noise. There would be no sign that he was ever there and no trace of Misha to follow.
Frosty night air assaulted the pair on their way out of the house and into the snow. Misha hid her face in the crook of Zima’s neck to protect her exposed skin from the cold.
No one would ever see Misha again. Viktoriya and Artur Mikhailov would never truly know what become of their only daughter. The girl was too trusting, too easy to fool even for a child.
Zima’s chest spasmed suddenly, a choked noise escaping him at the same time, causing Misha to pop her head up. His eyes were red and tears streamed down his cheeks, over his mask. Misha reached out to wipe the tears away with the sleeve of her puffy jacket, startling him. “Pochemu ty grustish’?” Tears began to spill from her eyes as well. Zima rubbed his eyes angrily, trying to rid the tears. [TRANSLATION: “Why are you sad?”]
“Ne bespokoysya obo mne, malysh. Tol’ko o sebe bespokoytes’.” [TRANSLATION: “Don’t worry about me, little one. Only worry about yourself.”]