Vladimir Norstrov

Scion of Anubis

Concept

The high profile case of Natalia’s life had just ended and she was enjoying a drink at a small hole in the wall bar. Relief was the only thing she felt right now. Threats, bribes, and kidnappings had all marred this case and more recently her personal life. It almost felt as if someone had been watching over her. There was a handsome man seated at the end of the bar, she could tell he had been watching her and even thought he might have followed her into the bar.

“Here’s a drink for ya.” said the barkeep. “It’s from the guy over there.” He said while pointing to the gentleman she was so avidly avoiding eye contact with.

She chuckled inside her head; how had he guessed her favorite cocktail? She shrugged and decided to take a chance. Walking over to the man, she noticed he was tall, dark, and handsome, but somehow something seemed off. The closer she got she began to realize that he exuded a sense of…justice, of rightness, and without knowing why, she felt safe--an odd feeling given the recent threats and torture from the gang members about the case. Conversation seemed so easy and she talked to him for what seemed like hours; before she knew it she was waking up the next day with nothing but a vague recollection of the night before and the dark sophisticated gentleman at the bar.

Three years passed and her husband never suspected her indiscretion. Truth be told, she wasn’t positive it had ever happened to begin with--but somehow she knew her little son, Vladimir, was not her husband’s. Tonight was going to be a wonderful night. She was having some long time friends over that she hadn’t seen since her collegiate days. Vladimir was playing nicely with his legos and he had even made a wonderful court room out of them.

During the meal they reminisced of days gone by and their adventures in college but for some reason every so often she would notice little Vladimir shake his head. After the appetizer she took Vladimir into the kitchen and asked him if he was okay.

“I don’t like them mommy, they lie to you.”

Perplexed, she asked him how he knew, but all he did was shrug. She told him that he was just nervous and that it was just a bad feeling. They returned to the table and Vladimir every so often would still shake his head. She started to pay attention and noticed that when her friend Jeff said he loved his wife, which he frequently reiterated, Vladimir would shake his head. She decided to see how accurate this was and started asking questions. She was amazed and horrified at the things she was now presuming to be the truth of their answers. She couldn’t help herself, she kept asking questions she had always wanted to know the answers too and was amazed at the lies her friends had told her. By dessert she obsessed with getting the truth out of her friends but she didn’t know how this was affecting Vladimir--he had successively been shaking his head a little harder each time.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH, lies, lies, lies, lies, lies, lies, lies all of you lie!”

The scream had come out of little Vladimir as he sprang up on the table and started yelling at each person. One, he cried, had killed his childhood dog and lied about it, others he exposed to be cheating or lying at work. Jeff he screamed at the loudest and exposed to be gay and having sex with one of their other friends at the table with the euphemism of naked wrestling. The worst of this outburst was when he looked at his father and yelled, “And I’m not your son!”

The shock was tangible and Natalia stood and asked him why he would say such things now knowing that the words were true. The friends all decided to call it a night but the damage had been done and little Vladimir had not only ruined their friendships but some of their lives as well. Needless to say mother never had a dinner party again, but his father still didn’t question little Vladimir’s parentage.

Vladimir was now eight and no longer feeling the tinge when people lied to him; through the years of wading through so many falsehoods the feeling had dulled and was now forgotten along with the tragic dinner party. It was a sunny afternoon and the kids were playing soccer when Vladimir went outside to join them. “BZZZTTT thump!” was the sound he heard as a squirrel fell to the ground from the power lines up above. Instinctively he ran to the squirrel, picked it up and brought it to the unused club house his dad had made for him. It was as if someone had taken over his body and all he could do was watch in awe. With a hanger, knife, salt, toilet paper, and some chemicals from under the sink he watched in wonder as he removed the organs, embalmed the body and wrapped the squirrel in tiny strands of the toilet paper. An hour later he looked with trepidation at the neatly mummified squirrel, its organs neatly separated in some of his mom’s tiny Tupperware containers that had gathered dust in the cupboard for years. He marveled at his work while turning it around in his hands, but then wisely decided he could never tell anyone. For years he continued to practice his art on dogs, cats, squirrels, any animal he could find dead. And secretly the graveyard in the backyard grew. Perhaps the strangest thing of all is that for some reason he knew every time what had killed the creature.

On his 15th birthday his mother paced the floor in the kitchen as she fidgeted with his cake, worried--she had just heard her high profile case from so many years ago had been thrown out due to false testimony. It was just Mom, Dad and son for this birthday since Vladimir didn’t like any of the kids he knew--or more precisely, they didn’t like him. They always shied away from him, calling him “Death Boy” since the day he was able to dissect his frog in class not only perfectly but without any instructions at all. That night mom was drinking wine that she had received from her mother and dad was drinking gin. Vladimir was so happy because there were more presents this year than any other. He blew out the candles as his mother finished her third glass of wine but then something went terribly wrong. Natalia lurched and pushed the cake off the table in a heap of frosting; she flung herself about, knocking over lamps and chairs, and finally fell limp on the floor in the living room. Later it was revealed that her mother was murdered, poisoned by the gifted wine. Vladimir, however, knew this as fact as soon as he saw her dead on the shag carpet.

The case took two years to build before a trial was announced. The man on trial was the same drug lord gang leader that had been freed a week before his 15th birthday. The trial was going badly and every time one of the crooks took the stand there was a lurch in his stomach as they spoke. The last one to testify was the boss himself but Vladimir could no longer take it. He screamed at the top of his lungs that they were lying and continued to do so even after the guards dragged him out. This was unacceptable; he couldn’t let this man get away with the murder of his mother! He could see the lies as plain as day spouting from their lips, why where they all so deceived by these obvious denigrations? If he couldn’t get his mother justice at least he had given her a proper burial! Somehow he managed to break in and take his mother’s body after the autopsy that day before its release. There was already extensive cuts and work done on the body, but he worked for an entire day straight in secret at an abandoned salt mill where he had plenty of salt to work with. After he loaded the body and jars into his car he had to think of a place to bury her he had a box from the mill that fit her and the park had just been redone. He pulled up the fresh sod and buried her in the heart of the park. After the trial he took her last name, Norstrov in remembrance of is righteous mother.

Years passed and he had devoted his life to school and ended up as a mortician, the only solace he found was with the dead. His dad no longer talked to him, he paid for school but never said another word to him after his mother’s body disappeared. The last and only words they had spoken in years was an agreement that they missed mom which Vladimir very much had a feeling his father lied.