Author: MidnightReverie

Note: This fanfiction contains OC's, but is Mary Sue/Bob Whatever-free. Time and place is set in Romania just before Nicolae Carpathia becomes President of the country. Before continuing, read the warnings.

Rating: PG13

WARNINGS: death, original characters (Mary and Bob free, though), unbeta'ed, use of 'h'-word.

Genres: General, Dark, Angst, spiritual (warfare), drama, Christian and Anti-Christ stuff.

Summary: A traumatized Andrei Morlach recalls a period of high school with Nicolae Carpathia.

The Seven Days Project

Chapter 1

How could he?

As Nicolae Carpathia made an end to the speech, done charismatically and yet humbly as ever, I made an end to the television's sounds and images ruling the living room. Was it possible for him; to become president of Romania? Certainly, it would only be a matter of weeks! Even days?

Little Eugen sitting on my lap started to whine about wanting to see his cartoons. As I lifted him up, holding him in the armpits, he seemed ready to burst into tears. I pulled him back in my arms and soothed the boy. There was no stopping when Romanian television constantly raves about the country's current pride.

"Aww, no. There are no cartoons today," I smiled. "'Cause of Nicolae." I added.

I rose from the sofa as I caught myself once again saying his personal name.

I brought the boy, fast asleep already, to his bed. I closed the door and stealthily went past our bedroom, not wanting to interrupt Daciana's nap. Seeing her peacefully resting eased my heart, she should be healing from her illness by now. Then I went back to the living room. Once I had told her vaguely about the affair I had prior to our marriage. She understood somehow that I wished not to speak about it. That is probably because it is done and over with. Yet now it turned out to be different. Secretly I wanted Daciana to know whom it actually concerned, so that she could finally stop wondering why I happen to dislike that very much loved face on the television. Why I snap randomly at that guy every time he intrudes into my home.

No, let's just keep it between me and God. Let that be enough. She does not need to know the details.

I sat down on the sofa again for a moment, and then leaned my head on the small pillow at the supporting side, trying to catch sleep. Unfortunately I could not shake off those memories again; the haunting feeling of being drugged and a rising urge of sinful passion prevailing. The very reason it had crept into my very house, with my wife and my child, in the living room was just too much. It was there again and it would soon take over the whole country. Unease worsened. I stopped the trail of thoughts. God help me. I opened my eyes. There was a notation book and a pen on the salon table in front of me. Formerly I had decided to use the book for my work, but I kept forgetting to take it with me. I stared blankly at it, thinking about what to do. Wondering if it made sense to recall the period to release it in my writings, I grabbed the pen. Daciana once told me it was a good thing to write down the thoughts and experiences of the day, whether it had been good or not. It never made sense to me. Why would I have all those things written down to 'remember'? I guess I shall throw this in a bin when I finish. Let's see if her theory works. After a few minutes of refreshing my memory of the beginning, I wrote.

Day 1: Friday morning

High school classmates agreed about the melodic name; it was the name of a special person. Yet it was nothing unusual. Back then, I was not the only one infatuated with Nicolae Carpathia. Simply everyone loved to be in his presence. We felt he was a genuine young man with a bright mind. A very intellectual guy, so there was no wonder why the teachers adored him. All men, women, guys and girls; all idolized. I was one of the few who did not show off my fondness of Nic- him. I guess it had to do with my own ego, not to show off to Nicolae- ...I give up. However, everyone did. Catch his attention and be smiled at? Was it magic or something? Whatever did he do to get such a reputation? I still wonder.

On a Friday morning, I circled down the damp hallways of the school. Before entering the classroom, I waited for my friend Trajan. He usually got late to school, unlike a certain other person. Trajan was one of my best friends during primary and secondary school. He was not smart, but I enjoyed hanging out with him.

During the wait, I peeked through the parted curtains. So then I could see our history teacher listening, nodding occasionally, to whoever had come early. Someone who was in the front seats near the entrance. Take a guess who always sits there? A moment ago, I wanted to get ahead of the early bird so I could brag about my early entrance. However, I would rather wait for Trajan, instead of talking to Mr Farn on my own. Previously the old man announced this would be the first day of a new invented, the so-called "Seven Days Project". It would be a history group assignment with a subject of our own choice. It had been called a Seven Days Project and not a week project, as it would not include the weekends. The project would end the second Monday from now on. Latecomers shall get the lowest grade possible. Piece of cake, I thought.

I heard the rest of my classmates coming. Trajan was walking in the front, holding up his hand. We greeted with a handshake. One might say that is quite formal, but for us it was a friendly gesture. As the two of us walked in as the first of the batch, I immediately caught sight of Carpathia staring right up at me.

"Good morning Andrei." It seemed he just stopped penning in his agenda. A bright smile appeared.

"Good mornin'." I replied before strolling three seats behind him, followed by Trajan.

As I sat down, I shortly glanced to the front. The blonde was greeted by many others and of course, being the polite and humble guy, he greeted back. You could not say he wanted to be popular, but who wouldn't? I was not a popular person; there would always be someone who would exceed.

Trajan growled a little, at that I glanced to the side.

"What is it?" I asked him. My friend looked from the front to me. On his face had appeared a scowl.

"I was ignored." He mumbled. The voice was low. "He didn't greet me at all."

"What?" I blurted out.

"You're so lucky." In a tone clouded over with envy. Trajan attempted a smile, but instead it came off stupidly.

"...what?" I raised an eyebrow. What the heck was he talking about?

Trajan smiled sheepishly, nodding to the front. "Him."

If the law of physics would allow it, my face would turn blue, as I could feel Trajan radiating with jealousy. Nervously I spun to the other side, proceeded to open my bag to get my history study tools. As I finished I caught a short glance of him, now turning his head.

Him, as Trajan had put it so nicely.

"Don't talk as if he's the president." I finally replied my neighbour, sighing.

"He IS the class president." Trajan answered smugly, folding his arms over his chest.

What do we have here? A sudden increase of brain cells? On the other hand, was it I not standing this idiocy?

"Oh please. You know what I mean, Trajan." I continued, not amused at my friend's unforeseen idiotic behaviour. "He's not the president"

I repeat: He's not the president. God help me now!

"But you have to agree he could do much better than Haldev!" Haldev was the president of Romania at the time.

"Haldev is good enough." I replied.

"Are you kidding? He's an egg, Andrei." Trajan commented and I was sure he had been of good opinion not too recently.

"Good morning class!" Mr Farn's loud words were spoken, croaking all over the place. At this all silenced.

"As you all know this is the first day of your project, which we already had discussed past Monday. I assume you all got those manuals I handed out back then. The only thing unfortunately is that we couldn't make it in time to form groups. Before you ask, it will be in groups of four."

Mr Farn's mouth closed, and then smirked. His gaze went to the seat behind me.

"Yes Silvia."

"Can we choose the members ourselves?" The girl asked.

"No." The teacher confirmed. The class began to groan and complain. I briefly looked at Trajan. Weren't we supposed to choose? I was completely sure of it he said that last Monday. The disappointment could be felt. Mr Farn's glance went to the front, after silence fell again, slowly folding his hands.

"Nicolae?"

"Sir, how is the subject chosen?"

"You'll discuss about it within the group. Try to choose a subject that fits well within the members' interests."

I saw him nod at this answer.

"No more questions?" Mr Farn asked before continuing. "Well then, I believe I explained it clearly during the previous class. Now let's form the groups."

He came from behind the old teacher's table, slowly as if he could almost collapse to the floor. Several in the class gasped. All of us must have been scared to death for the old man. That was a pun indeed. As Mr Farn finally stood directly in front of the class, no objects hindering him, he elevated his long wooden cane over the class. The students in the front row backed away at the unstable man's action. As if he could poke out the eyes of the people with that cane. Mr Farn's supported himself by placing the free hand on the table, while pointing the cane in the air, and in result caused the arm to tremble violently. On his face appeared a grimace.

"Twenty-four pupils." He counted the seats. I saw he excluded Constantin who was supposed to sit in front of me. In the corner of my eye I saw Nicolae tried to suppress a disturbed smile. One would think he could burst into laughter anytime at the man's silliness. Behind me I could hear gasps and begs to let Mr Farn stop. The old man really looked as if he was going to set up a new world order, ordering the students according to the respective world parts. It would have been hilarious if it were not for his handicap and his age. Silent pleads and occasional gulps rose in the air. I wanted to bury my face in my hands.

"Please." I quietly choked out, no more! I did not want to see a man fall dead in here!

"One, two, three, four, five six!" In shaking words he numbered the columns, pointing the cane at each, ending with my row. "There!" His loud voice overwhelmed the room.

Everyone went silent as he lowered the cane. I could only hear the old man's panting.

"Six groups." Mr Farn exhaled.

The class was breathless. The sudden panic was over. Mr Farn ordered us to get busy with the project already. I glanced at Trajan, who went to the front without saying a word, and then discovered Nicolae was looking at me. Right. He was in my column. Silvia, the girl who sat behind me, had gotten up. She seemed very excited, although I knew she whined every class about how she hated history. Nicolae made his way to my table and so did she. There was still that empty table in front of me. Silvia took Trajan's seat as the other went to sit in Constantin's.

"Here are the papers, Andrei." She handed me her manual.

"Thanks." I said, pulling a pen from my pocket. "Constantin is missing. Then I guess it's up to us to choose a subject."

"That is not very fair." Nicolae responded.

"Yeah." Silvia agreed. "But we can't phone him in them middle of class.""

"Who said we're going to phone him? Let's choose a subject. I'm sure he doesn't mind..." I told them. Both seemed to agree. So was I going to take the lead? I peeked at the manual. It did not seem to matter on who was to lead the group.

"Okay, so we have to fill these in." Silvia said as she observed the papers. "Uhh... what was our group number?"

"Six." Nicolae smiled.

She wrote the number down, and then proceeded to fill in the names of the members.

"What about the subject?" I asked. Silvia hummed thoughtfully and Nicolae seemed to think. My mind spun around the usual subjects; Colonialism, the World Wars I and II, the Cold War, the period of Terrorism...

"United Nations."

My trail of thoughts was interrupted. Silvia's gaze met mine. Nicolae stared intently at the paper; ready to fill in the subject. Was this okay?

"Yes." Nicolae added to his suggestion. I was slightly taken back at my inner question being answered.

"Silvia?" He asked, looking up from the paper.

"Yes, that's great." She replied contently.

"Andrei?" Nicolae requested, gazing sharply in my eyes.

"Yes, wonderful." I smiled and deeply captivated with Nicolae being pleased.

End of chapter 1: Group 6

TO BE CONTINUED