Czar Nicholas steps downstairs with his family.
The Romanovs quiver in terror like an after shock.
“Papa,” cries Anastasia, “where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” says the Czar, “maybe we’re going home.”

Nicholas freezes. He sees a man with a hammer and sickle armband the color of blood.

“We must leave now,” shouts the Czar.

But a gun is whipped out.
The Czar screams as he falls to the ground.
A headshot ends him.

Anastasia, her brother, and sisters run towards to the door.
A bayonet is thrust through them.

The satisfied Bolsheviks leave the room, laughing with sadistic glee.

The Empire’s embers crackle, as the Empire is engulfed by Revolution’s ravenous inferno.