As we made our ways across the base, another man with a thick curved mustache appeared. He dressed in the same red uniform and was walking with several other soldiers towards us. His eyes were violet and bright with purpose. He was a vampire-that I could tell. The place seemed to be roaming with vampires more than I first thought.
When they reached us, the man stopped and stared at me as if to ascertain who I was. His face was familiar but also unknown to me.
"Who's this?" I asked Trotsky without taking my eyes off the man.
"Anastasia, don't you recognize him? Standing in front of you is the world famous cavalry leader, General Krasnoff of the Cassocks."
I had heard the name before, way back when Russia was under the Sickle and Hammer.
"He was the one who got trialed for treason and h
