Iron Cross Breeding Program [Main]

Schreiber · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Schreiber** on Tue Apr 08, 2008 9:03 pm

Vitaliy watched the boy struggling, the scent of death creeping up on this poor little creature...

No! Vitaliy forced himself to keep a straight face and look away. This human wanted to die, that was it! He'd die out here! That'd be for the better, wouldn't it? One less piece of crap clinging to the surface of the earth, and one less weakling in the Soviet Union!

... Then the boy started to cry.

Oh. Come. ON. Vitaliy thought, shutting his eyes and covering them with one hand. Are you actually going to... Before he could finish that thought, the still-remaining human part of his brain knelt down next to the boy. "Hey..." he uttered softly. "Don't die on me, comrade..."

Shade the Avenger · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Shade the Avenger** on Tue Apr 08, 2008 9:21 pm

Afanasiy looked up at the man, shaking. He... called him 'comrade', just like all the other soldiers did. Before he could stop himself, he reached out a trembling hand to the man, but it limply fell to the ground. He held back more tears and bit his lip so hard it began to bleed, but he didn't seem to notice. All his attention was on the man, who was spending his valuable time talking to him.
"Please... help," Afanasiy pleaded.

Schreiber · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Schreiber** on Tue Apr 08, 2008 9:33 pm

Vitaliy hesitated further. On one hand, there was this soldier - admittedly a badly-beaten and most likely mentally-screwed-up soldier, but a soldier of the Soviet nonetheless. One who had fought in most of the same battles as he had...

... but on the other hand, he was human. And Vitaliy didn't have much compassion for humans. How could he when they were no longer on the same level as one another? Also, the humans were those who had screwed him over. Germans, not Russians though. But still, they were both fundamentally human. Vitaliy still considered just getting up and walking away, maybe trampling on the boy's chest for good measure and ending his miserable life quickly... but he finally grabbed the boy's hand and gripped it tightly in his own. A gesture that'd probably denote weakness for another, but... he sighed. The ex-soldier probably needed it now, needed some kind of contact to the rest of the world.

Shade the Avenger · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Shade the Avenger** on Tue Apr 08, 2008 10:58 pm

Afanasiy gave a small smile. A pitiful one, but a smile. He could feel the warmth from the man's hand and he was relieved somewhat. All he was able to do was stare at the man with teary eyes, teary eyes that would most likely cause him to be beaten by the other soldiers during the war for showing such weakness. He didn't care; there were no soldiers around (none that he knew of), and no one to laugh at him. If he lived, if... he made a mental note to do whatever it took to repay this person.

Schreiber · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Schreiber** on Wed Apr 09, 2008 1:47 pm

"Oh come on..." Vitaliy growled out (he wasn't much of a person to use a gentle voice for anything, not even a dog or a baby). "Don't cry. You used to be a proud soldier of the Soviet Union! Do you think Comrade Stalin would've cried? Hmm?" Vitaliy added under his breath, "I doubt he'd let anyone hold his hand, but that's a different story..." before saying in his normal tone, "Stop crying first of all. Do you want me to leave you here?"

Highly doubtful that Vitaliy would follow his word. He figured that - now that he actually stopped to help him - he wouldn't be able to just leave him here. Maybe he'd get him inside, phone a doctor, then leave before the man got here... That sounded like a good plan...

Stitches · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Stitches** on Wed Apr 09, 2008 2:04 pm

Her breath hung heavy in the lurid night air. It was as cold as sin. Tanya could barely feel her numb fingertips despite the fact that they were protected by coffee coloured, woolen gloves. A bitter snow fell hesitantly from the sky, reflecting underneath the scarce artificial light dotted on either side of the streets. Due to her nocturnal tendencies, Tanya tended to patrol the streets long after the sky turned black. On this particular night she had wondered why she had even chosen to venture from her humble appartment. Perhaps it was to escape the stale smell of Tenessee bourbon which still lingered from the night before?

An account with an appealing amount of money had been set up for Tanya, by her mother. It was blood-money. Dirty, horrible money that was meant to make amends for all those years she had spent as a lab rat. She had tried to spend the Mcpherson fortune in large quantities, hoping that she would get a glimpse of joy from buying nothing in particular. Shopping therapy, however, had not worked for Tanya. She felt empty, incomplete, alone.. And worst of all; she felt like a freak. Just the other day she had found a dead pigeon lying by the side of the road. Awkwardly she had felt the strong urge to take this lifeless creature homeward bounds. Her instincts had been uncontrollable and she had ended up placing the trophy affectionately before the frontdoor belonging to her bewildered neighbour.

Upon straying a few blocks further away from her abode, she caught sight of two figures who seemed to be caught in a conversation of sorts. Her curious nature getting the better of her she edged closer. Under the pale light she noticed the large amount of blood.

"Oh my gosh."

Usually an incident like this would not of bothered the young woman, but she was glad that it did spark some kind of emotion-- it reminded her that she was still human in some ways.

"What happened here?"

With no regards for her own safety, Tanya approached the two men. For a moment she stood frozen, like a wide-eyed gawker. Upon shaking the initial state of shock away she then went on to exclaim;

"Have you called a doctor?"

Schreiber · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Schreiber** on Wed Apr 09, 2008 3:43 pm

Vitaliy's head jerked up and he looked away from the ex-soldier still holding onto his hand. His eyes wandered up and down the newcomer's body; she was decidedly female and quite pretty. He grinned slightly, but then turned his attention back to the man lying on the ground. "Niet," he answered. "Not yet." Although, now that you mention it, it should've been one of the first things I did... he added silently to himself.

"But look at 'im," he said with a quick jerk of his head. He lowered his voice and said, "Do you think he'll make it after all of this?" With his other hand, he gestured at the blood on the snow. "All I'm doin' right now? It's mostly just to make sure he doesn't thrash about and bleed on himself," he continued in the same quiet voice; he hoped that the ex-soldier wouldn't hear him.

Shade the Avenger · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Shade the Avenger** on Wed Apr 09, 2008 6:19 pm

Afanasiy did hear him, but he didn't really care. He was too busy staring up at the newcomer, trying his best to keep his eyes open. He shivered again and weakly clenched a fist. The yearning of death came again, and he wanted to do it himself. Dig his fingernails into his throat and bleed to death, run out into the street and get hit by a car, or even go and drown in the Neglinnaya River. No one would miss him, however, and that's when the thoughts of death ceased. He wanted at least one person to remember him before he wanted to die... just one. Before he could think anymore, he blacked out and fell limp once again.

Stitches · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Stitches** on Thu Apr 10, 2008 8:09 am

"Do you think he'll make it after all of this?"

Tanya stayed deathly quiet. She wondered if a doctor would even reply to an SOS at this time of the night. Especially if that cry for help was from a poorer member of society. She cursed herself for thinking that way, but when all is said and done that is what the world was coming to. From the depths of her coat pockets she promptly pulled forth a beautifully decorated handkerchief. She swiftly knelt down by the side of the man, the coldness from the snow hit her knees in the form of a harsh stabbing sensation. Braving the cold, she tended to the dirt, dried blood and generally unpleasant marks upon the side of his face before turning towards the more muscular of the two.

"I don't know. But, we are going to do whatever we can to ensure that he does."

Within a couple of seconds the man whom she was tending to fallen into a black sleep. A sleep that he may not wake from this time. Tanya's gut wretched at the sheer reality of this situation. If he was indeed to die here in this freezing climate he would not even get a proper burial. She wondered if he had any family to mourn him. Tanya could relate to the loneliness. Whilst her human emotions were raging she conjured a plan. To put her plan into action though she had to get the other man's full co-operation.

"Look, he may well not pull through tonight, but I think he would appreciate dying in a more respectable place. I have an apartment, not far from here actually. If you would please help me carry him in that direction I will be able to tend his wounds with the proper tools. He would also be a thousand times warmer. To be quite frank with you I can honestly say that is his best chance of survival. And for your kindness I shall sort you out a warm meal ..And a stiff drink of course."

Tanya searched the man's eyes for any compassion.

"Please, my name's Tanya Mcpherson. I want to help your friend, but I can't do it on my own."

Her voice was gentle, sub-dued. She kept her eyes fixed upon his own as she awaited an answer.

Schreiber · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Schreiber** on Thu Apr 10, 2008 2:08 pm

Vitaliy kept his eyes on Tanya's, thinking it all over. On one hand, a nice meal and a drink sounded heavenly. After all the fighting he had done tonight, he was hungry again (he never ate anything before a fight just in case he got kicked or punched in the stomach) and he placed a hand on his belly, rubbing slightly as he stretched his other arm over his head. "I appreciate the whole honor thing, believe me. I understand it an' all. I used to be a soldier after all," he said with a sigh. He stopped stretching, placing both hands on his belly. "But he isn't my friend. He's just a kid that came into the bar where I was fighting, tried to place a shitty bet on me, and I refused. He walked out and here we are now. He wanted to die? He could've done it in the bar. No one would've noticed much until closing time anyways and--"

His eyes averted from Tanya's to the boy's face, and he stopped talking. A pang of emotion stabbed at his heart; Vitaliy had tried shutting out every last speck of human emotion, yet there were some that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried. The ex-soldier looked just like those he had seen back in the battles… in the… Vitaliy growled and shook his head as his eye muscles began to twitch, images flashing in his memory. He stopped shaking his head, taking his hand off of the space underneath his eye and forcing himself to look down at the boy. Look at him… It’s the least you can do! A voice – most definitely not his own – commanded, its tone stern.

Finally, Vitaliy sighed. “Fine… But only for the food and beer involved,” he said, kneeling down and picking up the boy. He felt like he should be rough, like he was handling a dead body over to the graveyard, yet he couldn’t force himself to be rough. He gently picked up the boy, arms underneath the soldier’s knees and one wrapped around his shoulders and chest, looking down at the boy. “You’ll be alright, comrade…” he murmured, hopefully low enough so that Tanya wouldn’t hear.

Stitches · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Stitches** on Thu Apr 10, 2008 3:04 pm

He seemed to speak in a tone lower than a whisper, but unluckily for him she had a keen sense of hearing. It was impossible to speak under your breath if Tanya was around. She could hear a pin being dropped in a crowded room, and would probably be able to take you to the exact location it fell. She had assumed that this would be because of the tests which were forced upon her.

Comrade?

She wondered what that meant. He did state that he was once a soldier, maybe the younger of the two was also a ex soldier. In that case, she guessed that he may feel a special sort of bond with the wounded hero. She knew that the words spoken had not been intended for her ears anyway, so she did not dwindle into the subject.

"Thank you. I assure you that it is not far."

Rising to her feet she scraped the snow from upon her chocolate coloured trousers. She started to lead the way, staying a fraction of a second infront of the man. This was the first time that Tanya had felt inclined to talk to anyone in a long while. Years infact. She was too afraid to speak with anyone incase she said or did the wrong thing. She did not want to be locked up and experimented on again. It may have been many years ago, but the memories and the emotional scars still remained fresh.

"Hey, what is your name? I have told you mine, I think it is only fair if I get yours in return."

Her pace slowed slightly, so she could keep in-step with the man.

"You say you were fighting tonight? Down at which bar?"

She realised that she was throwing questions at him in a pretty random manner, but truth be told, all she wanted right now was some company and conversation ..which was indeed highly unusual.

Schreiber · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Schreiber** on Thu Apr 10, 2008 6:34 pm

Vitaliy looked up from the ex-soldier's face once he heard Tanya begin to speak. "Vitaliy," he said. "Vitaliy Rhyzkhov is my name." He gave her a smile when she asked him about his fighting career. "Well..." He adjusted his hold on the boy in his arms. "I was fighting at Sergeyevich's bar tonight. Always a good crowd, although I think I want to move up from the bar... Not enough good competition, that's the main problem. You always get too good for the average bar and it gets so boring after a while."

He shrugged and readjusted his hold a second time on the soldier. His eyes averted back to his face and felt the same sharp stab of not-yet-forgotten emotion return to his heart. His smile faltered slightly at the sight of the unconscious ex-soldier's condition, and he reverted back to looking at Tanya. A positive sight than a wounded soldier, definitely. "You should've stopped by... Sergeyevich always holds these amateur fight-nights and it's always a hell of a lot of fun. Besides, even if you don't fight, you can always place bets! But it's better to fight. You might actually get some money... as long as you put up a good fight and keep getting up when your opponent's down."

Stitches · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Stitches** on Fri Apr 11, 2008 9:21 am

She listened to his words with genuine interest, a slight chuckle escaping her lips when he had finished his short speech.

"Forgive me, Vitaliy. I doubt that I would be able to fight if I tried. Not against some of the men who compete. I have often wandered from bar to bar watching the fights. You could say that they intrigue me. However, some bars dislike the thought of women sitting amongst the men, chatting and placing bets. I think it is old-fashioned, but at the end of the day it is their call. And unfortunately that is something I have to respect. As for the money, I get by alright without needing to gamble."

She wished for him to talk more about himself, about his time served as a soldier. She wondered if any of his companions had been subjected to the research that transformed them into a whole new level of fighter. She wondered what he had seen whilst he had been away on duty. Her eyes wandered for a few long seconds before finding his again. When he had been talking about his fighting career his eyes had becoming wider, and lit up with awhole new spark of enthusiasm. She could get lost in those fiery, warm eyes. However, before she started gawking again she went on to make her next statement;

"You said that you were a soldier. I bet you feel really proud, it is a great thing that you did for this country. A brave and wonderful thing."

Schreiber · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Schreiber** on Fri Apr 11, 2008 9:26 pm

Vitaliy understood what she was saying. Many of the people who entered in fights were of the male persuasion and either as big or bigger than Vitaliy himself, most of them much taller than he was. He had enough trouble some days fighting them off and - no offense to a fine lady like Tanya - he doubted that a woman would be able to fight off the majority of them. His eyes lit up again at the mention of his fighting years and he nodded vigorously at Tanya's words. "Very proud! I'm damn proud I fought against the Germans and I won't let anyone forget it any time soon!" He bobbed his head twice, as if that gesture made his words twice as true.

"I fought for most of the war..." he said. "Except towards the end of the war..." His left eye muscles began to twitch and throb again, and the memories flashed in and out before his eyes. "Ahh... I... I was injured..." That seemed to make the twitching go away, if only momentarily. "Couldn't fight."

Stitches · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Stitches** on Sat Apr 12, 2008 11:13 am

"Not a serious injury I hope."

She trailed off, noting the way his words started to stammer and the rapid movements of his eye muscles. Her last words were spoken with genuine concern. She did want to dwell further into his career as a soldier, but came to the conclusion that now certainly wasn't the right time. They could perhaps talk more when she had seen to the injured man and had fixed Vitaliy a hearty meal. Maybe over a bottle of vodka.

"Do you see the block of flats there?

Tanya pointed straight ahead, highlighting a block of six flats. They were three stories high with two extended apartments on each level.

"I own this block you see. It's a project, if you will. The people who lodge here with their families pay me what they can a month. They have all had trouble recovering after the war, you see. Any other landlord would have thrown them out, but I'm slightly more leniant. After all, they are hardworking, honest people and they always pay me what they can afford. I would never ask any more than that from anyone, besides, the way it works out I will receive twice what I paid for these apartments back within the next ten years or so. The one down the very bottom to the right is vacant at the moment. There is a family of five in the one next to it, if you aim your eyes higher- the next two contain smaller families and my neighbour is on the right of the top floor. So that would be my humble home right there."

She turned towards Vitaliy once more, looking a little flustered.

"You will have to excuse the mess. I have never had anybody round since I moved in. I am not a people person. And ignore the smell. I over-did it on the bourbon the other night.. Sorry. I am rambling, aren't I? Not much further. When this young man finally comes round, he will thank you for your integrity and kindness. Hell, you deserve a medal for just listening to me ramble on and on."

Schreiber · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Schreiber** on Sun Apr 13, 2008 12:52 pm

Vitaliy nodded slightly. "A mess is alright, actually. And once you spend just about every night in bars, bourbon tends not to bother you much after a while." He shrugged, looking down again at the boy in his arms. "I don't mind the rambling either. If it weren't for you talkin', it'd be too silent... Can't stand silence." He shook his head. "After all, this one in my arms isn't exactly the most lively of patients as of now..."

Stitches · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Stitches** on Sun Apr 13, 2008 1:22 pm

Tanya escorted Vitaliy up the twisted staircase and to her door. Upon locating her key she unlocked the door. The extravagant hallway was richly decorated and there was a royal red and gold theme which spread through the apartment. She entered first, leading the way to the main room.

"Place him upon the sofa. I'll get a fire going and that should warm the poor kid up."

She realised that she had reffered to the injured party as a "kid", but he was probably her age ..if not a year or too older. The problem with Tanya was that she had been forced to grow up before her time and often forgot the fact that she was in her twenties. She exited into one of the many rooms, returning with a handful of blankets which she placed close to the large sofa.

"Pull up a chair, make yourself comfy, Vitaliy."

She roamed around the front room, first lighting the fire and then proceeding to light the stove.

"I hope that beef stew if okay for you."

She poured out two large glasses of vodka, handing one affectionately to Vitaliy. She placed hers upon a side table, before exiting again, returning this time with a large bowl of hot water with a variety of towels placed upon her arm. These too were stored by the sofa.

"Feel free to take off any wet clothes. They will soon dry infront of the fire. Just make yourself at home."

Schreiber · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Schreiber** on Sun Apr 13, 2008 2:15 pm

Vitaliy looked around at the room, giving a small appreciative smile. He did as he was told, gently putting the boy down on the couch Tanya had indicated and grabbing a few of the blankets. He gently wrapped them around the boy and made sure that every inch of him was covered save for his head. He took one of the towels and dipped it into the water, placing it gently on the soldier's forehead. He took the vodka from Tanya and took a sip of it, seating himself near the fire. "Beef stew's perfectly fine with me," he said. "I could eat anything right now. Just as long as I'm in a home, I don't mind what it is you place in front of me."

He yawned slightly and said, "So... did you fight in the war as well?"

Shade the Avenger · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Shade the Avenger** on Sun Apr 13, 2008 6:07 pm

Afanasiy tried to force his eyes open and he let out a faint, hoarse groan. He could feel warmth coursing through his body and he began to wonder where he was. Was he back at the bar? No, the smell of liquor wasn't that strong. Did someone find and bring him to a hospital? No, it didn't have that odd smell hospitals have. He desperately wanted to open his eyes and see where he was, but it felt like his eyelids were frozen shut. However, he was happy that he wasn't in the freezing cold anymore.

He began to hear voices and he began to shiver. They sounded German, and they were close. He could understand some of their words. "Töten" (kill), "Folter" (torture), "Zweig" (shoot), and so on. His shivering grew and he started to cough uncontrollably. His eyes snapped open and he saw himself back in the trenches, with dead soldiers around. He looked up and saw Germans reaching for him and he let out a hoarse scream, slapping his hands on his head and curling up in a ball.

Stitches · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Stitches** on Sun Apr 13, 2008 6:20 pm

As soon as the question exited Vitaliy's lips a sudden change occurred in Tanya. She became quiet, dumbfounded and began to drift. She did play her part in the war. She, of course had been a test subject. Tested on to create a new breed of human- strong and indestructible. Tanya, however, was neither of these things. She was society's reject and if it were not for her and her mother going into hiding several years back then she probably would have been destroyed. She felt cheap, disposable, unwanted. Now she fell into a darker mindstate. Prone to sudden, unexpected changes in attitude her body language changed radidly. She became tense, on the edge, like she was keeping a dark secret. She wanted to explode, to tell this person (who was more or less a stranger) everything. She wanted to unleash her rage, her fury and all of her suppressed emotions. She did not know why, but she felt like she could trust Vitaliy. She felt secure when in his company. More than anything else came the sudden urge to be held. Tanya had never before been stricken with such confusing, menacing feelings.

"..Excuse me, I'm just going to change out of these wet clothes."

With whiplash speed, she exited the living area, retreating into her personal bedroom. She felt furious with herself, she could not even make eye contact with the man before exiting. With great distaste she disposed of her wet clothing, changing into a coffee-coloured, crinkled dress. She wrapped a cream towel around her shoulders to make sure her damp hair did not drip, soaking the back of the outfit.

Right, no more random outbursts. You can do it. Keep your cool.

She made her return, locating her glass of vodka. Choosing to sit upon the floor infront of Vitaliy she made herself comfortable. Looking up into his dark blue eyes, she cocked her head slightly to the side, searching within the depths of her mind for a way out of this situation.

"Actually, I was raised in Britain. It is my mother's side of the family who are Russian. Anyway, I am sure you have many heroic stories to tell. Your meal is going to be awhile and I am a very good listener. Tell me about your career as a soldier."

She raised the glass to her mouth, casually sipping the spirit. She wondered what his reaction to her comment would be. Stirring noises came from the couch. The man was waking up. It seemed asthough the poor man was repressing some kind of memory, his limbs flew left and right as if he was trying to keep a flock of attacking pigeons at bay. She shuffled closer to the injured part, gently washing his forehead with one of the towels as he squirmed.

"There, there. You are safe and warm now."

As the man curled himself into a ball, she tenderly stroked the back of his hair. Looking towards Vitaliy she uttered with a smile;

"I think that he's going to pull through. It seems as if he has just suffered a great deal of stress more than anything."

Iron Cross Breeding Program [Main]

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