Quick note: I know that DNA tests have shown that Anastasia was killed along with her family, but me being the "how do we know?" person that I am, I thought I'd write a quick thing where Anastasia survives, but it also accounts for the DNA test.

Cold. Burning. Frozen.

And all because the last of the Romanovs was escaping.

Ice can support a little girl. A grown man carrying a heavy talisman, not so easily.

Her leg slipped out of my grasp. No! The Romanov was getting away!

Through my rage, I felt myself slide into the frozen water.

No! No! No! I, the great Rasputin, had sacrificed everything to destroy the Romanovs. My name would be ridiculed until the end of time for being bested by a little girl.

No one could find Anastasia Romanov alive. No one. Ever.

As if responding to my thoughts, the talisman glowed green with its power.

I croaked, "Go. Fulfill your dark purpose. Let no one ever find Princess Anastasia Romanov."

As the world faded from my eyes, I saw figures fly out from the talisman. The world faded from view…

The spirits flew through the air, unseen. The palace was in ruins. Plenty of corpses lay around.

A serving-girl's body lay in the kitchen, blood leaking from the bullet-wounds in her chest and stomach. She was just about the Princess' size. The shadows decided she would do.

The body was carried to the room where the Romanovs lay, staining the floor with blood.

There, they waited for their comrade.

Miles away, one shadow was soaring among the hustle of the train station. Looking for something—or someone.

Ah—there she was. The little girl being rushed along by her grandmother.

Here she was, just about to pass the hiding-place—yes! The shadow swooped through her.

Anastasia slowly said "Grandmama…"

"What is it, sweetheart? We have to get out of here."

"Nothing…it was just a chill. Winter wind, I guess."

The grandmother and granddaughter hurried on.

The spirit flew away, carrying its precious prize. The palace was not so far away, now.

It did not take long to find the room that was the Romanovs' tomb.

There she was: the surrogate Princess.

The spirit once again touched the body.

The corpse became a clone of the last Romanov, down to the genetic material.

The Princess never knew everyone thought she was dead.

Ninety years later, no one doubts the DNA test on the small female body discovered in the mass grave outside the Romanov palace.

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