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The staff of this forum in no way endorse mass genocide, or any killing for that matter. Use of historical, national symbols or characters is for creative and art purposes only. Those persons sensitive to the History of and/or surrounding the events of World War II in Europe, Asia and the Americas are encouraged not to enter and participate. ~ Administrator.

The Calm Before the Storm - (Read 131 Times)
 
Yekaterin
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Post Icon Posted: Dec 15th, 2007 at 06:19 pm

The skies were low and ominous that day. A village on the outskirts of Stalingrad had become Yekaterin's base of operations since her trek back from Kiev. Outside of the grouping of houses and buildings, the woods were in full bloom, lush and green. They stood motionless as giants before the gates of hell, stretching up their great branches to the darkening skies above.
At least it wasn't snow.
Yekaterin took a drag of her cigarette, craning her head up to see out of the window above her. She was sitting with her legs sprawled out before her, hidden below the window safely. She frowned slightly. Would that the weather could have remained sunny, but alas. She took another drag of her cigarette, then crushed it out on the dusty wooden floor.
Most of the occupants of the village had fled east in the face of the approaching German forces, and the village stood now only haunted by the occasional scufflings of wildlife in attics and walls.
The company that Yekaterin has attached herself to this time without invitation, had been dwindling, soldiers dropping dead from head-shots left and right. This only rilled her up more. They had to be dealing with a goddamned sniper, here of all places.
The rest of the company was at the other side of the village, holed up in a stone farm house on the outskirts. Yekaterin had grown tired of their frivolity in the face of death. Time for some sport instead.
If possible, she had become even more bitter in the span of time through which she had traveled from Leningrad, to Kiev, and now here, to the outskirts of Stalingrad. That bitch Baikov had really put a bee in her bonnet, and she was generally distrustful of others on principal now. She wasn't about to make -that- mistake twice.
She had healed up completely some time ago, though the low hanging clouds made her back ache a little. The sensation was negligible.
Bachev had disappeared out near Kiev. Dead, she assumed. Shame, he was a hell of a soldier and a hell of a leader... and that was all, she convinced herself.
She pulled out her hipflask and took a swig of the vodka before it went away into her pocket again.
"Valchikovsky!" An urgent whisper and a pointing hand gesture.
"Ah shit!" She tiptoed quickly across the backstage to a grouping of ropes and started hauling on them quickly. God, why was she even considering the overly sentimental man? It was distracting her! It had been the second time he'd requested she go out for coffee somewhere with him, and while part of her reveled in, and tried to preserve her independence, another part craved his company all the time. Hell, it wasn't like he was bad to look at at least, far from it.
It was how it had begun. They had lasted for quite a few years punctuated by long and short stints in which he had been sent off to some front or other, or on some mission he couldn't tell her about. Still, she liked the way he looked in his uniform.


« Last Edited by Yekaterin Dec 16th, 2007 at 05:20 pm »
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Volker Gottschalk
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Post Icon Posted: Dec 16th, 2007 at 10:16 pm


No… no he wasn’t a fool. She was like him! A hunter. Their prey was different, yes, but they had something in common. She however, seemed more militaristic, taking the fun out of all of it. He would teach her.

You’re flawed. You’ve got the right mindset, but you are so flawed. Come now, be reasonable. Let me help you. That’s why I’m here. Let me help you like I did before.

A small smile perked up his lips. Teeraal was right. He WAS flawed, but his new counterpart made him flawless. That adrenaline rush was like ecstasy. When it first happened, when Volker embraced death, it felt like such a disappointment… such a failure. Oh, but he would be so much better now. He had no problem admitting to failure. In the end, it was all part of the game, right?

Yes… yes that’s right. But this one, this girl you are associating yourself with… she cannot be a player in this game. You have to keep her out of this. Do you really think she’s going to be a pupil of you? She’s more headstrong than that. Or is it something else? Volker, Volker, Volker. What ARE you thinking? The Devil is not as kind to lust as some might think

That was wrong! The voice was incorrect! His eyes drifted over to Lyubov.

The two of them were camping out in an abandoned shed in the small village. Volker had wrapped a tattered old blanket around himself and was leaning up against the wall of the shed, steering clear of the windows. He wouldn’t mind getting a bit of shut eye… but now was not the time. Too many risks.

They knew better than to sit out in the open. There was a full fledged war going on. The Reich had made that perfectly clear, as had the months since June of last year. It was so extravagant, so enthralling. Now, here he was, teaming up with the enemy. Oh she would be a grand student, yes. The Reich would accept a defective Soviet with open arms too. Not to mention she was…

I knew it! You DO have other reasons. That’s alright Volker… don’t worry about it. You’re not just a soldier… not just a hunter… you’re a man too.

“Shut up,” he suddenly hissed. The voice was becoming more and more irritating.

Ah… tsk tsk. Denial, denial. Go to sleep Volker. I’ll take care of things… Close your eyes. You’ll be satisfied in the morning, I promise. Let me take over again. You liked the rush last time, didn’t you? Let me show you what else I can do…

Feeling suddenly flushed, he dropped the blanket and stretched out his legs a bit. No, it wouldn’t be a good idea to let the Thing take over again. Not here at least. There was no reason right now, but… he wasn’t so sure if he could control it. He had no idea how or when or what to do IF it happened.

Hah hah hah. You have no control over this child. You’re dealing with one of the Fallen, something more extraordinary than your human minds can comprehend. You all believe power comes from weapons, explosions, tactics, and wit. No…. that’s not how a real war works. Real war is divinity verses what is defined as evil. But that is something you’ll never understand so I’ll just have to figure out how to have fun here.
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Lyubov
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Post Icon Posted: Dec 16th, 2007 at 10:48 pm

The last few days had been interesting, to say the least. Lyubov shot a glance at Volker, her lips curved up in a faint smile. She had felt regret for nearly shooting him. What a fine enemy this man made! And he made a better ally. To Lyubov's delight, Volker was willing to team up with her. The man seemed to take an unhealthy pleasure in killing, but Lyubov didn't mind. She had worked with worse. Killing didn't really bother her, in any case.

Despite the fact that Volker made pleasant company, there was something about him that irritated her. Lyubov had no idea what it was. A part of her was pleased when she knocked him out of that tower, pleased when she thought she had killed him. Strange, that. Lyubov had been so sure ... but she had missed him after all, it seemed, and was mostly glad that she did. She cracked her knuckles, looking over at Volker again. Lyubov was tempted to doze off herself, but there would be time enough for sleep when they had gotten to a safer spot. The Russians were pretty well cowed, but it was never smart to take chances.

The woman didn't actually expect to see anyone when she carefully peeked from a soot-darkened window. The sight of a person creeping around the corner of the shed took her by surprise. Lyubov froze, astonished. Who the hell was that? Did they know about Lyubov and Volker? They were damn sneaky, whoever they were. Lyubov had seen nothing but a glimpse of their back. She turned to Volker, signaling urgently. Could be someone attempting to use the shed as cover. It could also be someone about to break in and start firing. Lyubov unslung her rifle, her eyes darting between the door and the windows.

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Yekaterin
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Post Icon Posted: Dec 16th, 2007 at 11:06 pm

Just the barest sound, like the sound of knuckles cracking. Yekaterin looked toward the trees. Maybe it was a twig snapping. She couldn't place the noise as she froze in a crouch at the corner of the shed. her blue eyes darted hawkishly over everything she could see. Had she heard correctly, or was it just the branches of the trees finally stirring on a breeze?
She took a silent, measured breath. She didn't like this, didn't like it at all. She shot a glance up at the window behind her, but couldn't see in. it was too grubby, and too dark inside the shed. The hair at the back of her neck bristled faintly.
No, no, she didn't like this at all. Her rifle primed, her finger hovering expectantly over the trigger, she took a bold chance, and darted silently and briskly to a stack of hay bales about 50 years away. She skidded slightly to duck in behind them, but she made it, and ducked down there for a moment to still the hammering in her chest. Something was askew here, she could feel it, like prey scents predator on a breeze. She pulled off her ushanka roughly, folding it and stuffing it into a large pocket with one hand. The hair beneath was braided back out of her way simply, her face stark and smudged with grime here and there.
She furrowed her brow, and eased the muzzle of her rifle over the top of the stack of bales, and ten, that one blue eye as always. She scanned the area around her, around the barn and beyond toward the buildings. She didn't like having the woods to her back either, but out here, cover was minimal, and she sure as hell wasn't hoping to go back into the trees if she didn't have to.
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Volker Gottschalk
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Post Icon Posted: Dec 17th, 2007 at 04:51 pm

Volker slowly looked up as Lyubov signaled him. Oh goody! It looked like a hunt was about to begin. Instinctively, without even thinking, he tucked his legs up and rolled into a crouch. One hand darted out, gripping onto the rifle. His heart was racing, but not in fear. No, he was preparing to start a new hunt, discover his new prey, face it (figuratively), and then kill it.

How melodramatic. You see this as a game, but your games are so boring.

The Thing was speaking down to him. Oh, he did not like that. He didn’t like that one bit. If Volker was facing the Thing head on, he would be beating him to a bloody pulp, or simply shooting him square between the eyes. Volker knew how to play it. He WAS the best and nobody could top his strategies. After all, he wasn’t a soldier. He was a hunter.

Would you now? That would be a grand idea given it didn’t sound like insanity. There is absolutely no way you could or CAN defeat me child.

Stop. Just stop!

Alright alright. Enough chatting. We’re going to have fun now.

We?

Yes. I’m going to show you what fun REALLY is. I’m going to show you the wonders and beauty of real war. It requires no strategy, no tactics… only power.

Suddenly, Volker was no longer moving. Well, he was moving, but he felt numb. It was as if he were nothing more than a puppet, watching the show from a first person standpoint. No. This wasn’t right. The gun was now held lazily in his hands and he tossed the cloak behind his shoulders, as if the extra camouflage was completely unnecessary. He was no longer in control. His heart began to race even faster, and as opposed to fighting the possession, he relished it, that memorable adrenaline rush taking over once again.

That’s right. No more hiding around like a coward. Just go along with this… I’ll protect you, don’t worry.

He was now standing in front of the shed door, and he could feel himself debating about kicking it down… or simply walking through. No need to cause a scene. He delicately opened the door, and stepped out. Volker, or now… Teeraal’s arms stretched out as if he’d just had the best sleep of his life. Then, he casually strode out, a good twenty feet away, testing the perimeter. There was nobody nearby, but there was certainly somebody out here. A smile curled up his lips, and a one hand retreated to his helmet, pushing it downward a bit so that it was shading the top half of his face.

“I know you’re out there,” he called out like it was a children’s game. “I give up! You’re too good at this, really.”

Shit. She pulled the trigger already. He caught the sound of the bullet whizzing through the air. OH that was unfortunate. She was about to have a good shot too. Good thing Volker wasn’t in control. Isn’t that right child? Hah.

He flipped backward, about four feet into the air and landed on the shed. No, not the top of the shed. He was vertically plastered to it. Both hands and feet flat against the outer wall of the shed. The bullet hit inches below his feet. As tempted as Teeraal was to set it up otherwise, he made sure not to fixate himself where Lyubov was. His head was tilted downward, the helmet still shading his face. Though, behind the muddy painted camo on his face, a pearly white smile curled up.

“I’ll give you a minute to aim.”

Suddenly, he vanished. It were as if he wasn’t even there, and the whole thing was some sort of twisted dream he’d set up to torment his onlookers. Though, he knew better. He was still there, but his entire body was now blending into the wall. He dropped to the ground in a crouch, his background melting into him as he did so. Now invisible to the naked eye, and still in a spider-like position, he began scrambling towards the woods silently. Oh, this was indeed going to be fun.

“Or do you have some other word for it?” He sneered. “Some technical term you use for preparing to murder somebody? I don’t know. No matter.” The shooter would hear him, and given they were clever, be able to locate where his voice was. Perfect.

“Alright I’m ready. Hit me! This will be an easy kill for you, assuming you ARE out there, you do have a gun, and I would HOPE you know how to use the useless toy.” After saying that, he leapt upward, gripping onto a tree like a koala and scrambling toward the top before he held perfectly still.


« Last Edited by Sebastian Dec 17th, 2007 at 05:34 pm »
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Lyubov
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Post Icon Posted: Dec 17th, 2007 at 10:34 pm

The slight noise outside made Lyubov tense. The other must be moving around. Slowly, carefully, she began picking her way across the shed to a new vantage point. She kept one eye on the shed door as she went. If the person outside was about to come bursting in, Lyubov would be ready for her. Then, to her astonishment, Volker stood and walked towards the doorway. The blond man seemed quite unconcerned about the possibility of being shot as he opened the door and stepped out. Lyubov stared, horrified. Had the man gone insane? "Volker! Volker!" Her voice was a nervous hiss. But her new friend paid no attention. He stood casually out in the open, actually calling out to the enemy.

Well, fuck. The muzzle of her gun moved slightly to focus on Volker's back. Lyubov's finger tightened slightly on the trigger. He had just completely given away their position, putting both of them in terrible danger. Lyubov was tempted to kill him just for being a damn fool. She forced herself to relax, the muzzle dipping down slightly. If they hadn't caught a glimpse of her through the half-open door, the person outside still had no way of knowing that Lyubov was concealed in the shed as well. By shooting him she would draw attention to herself and finish what Volker started. She bit her lip, glaring at Volker bitterly.

CRACK! A bullet thudded into the side of the shed. Lyubov was on her feet instantly, racing for the nearest window. Careless of the danger, she poked her rifle through a broken pane, scanning the area for the shooter. Whoever had shot Volker was going to pay for it. But ... there was no body. Lyubov pulled the rifle back, confused. She had been so sure of the direction. Moving cautiously now, the woman crept towards the window on the opposite side of the shed. Nothing, but the sound of someone running was loud and clear. There was nothing for it but to go to the door.

Lyubov peered out very carefully. It had to be the enemy running away -- but where was the enemy? Suddenly, Volker's voice rang out. He was still alive, then, but for the life of her Lyubov couldn't tell where he was hiding. Remembering how she had first seen Volker dropping out of a tree, Lyubov's gaze went to the forest. If Volker was up there, he must be perfectly camouflaged. Gripping her rifle tightly, Lyubov scanned the area. Just what in hell was going on here? None of it made sense to her. She couldn't fathom why Volker had run out in the first place, or how the shooter had managed to miss him. Still, the instant she spotted the enemy, Lyubov would shoot. There would be time for questions later.
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Yekaterin
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Post Icon Posted: Dec 17th, 2007 at 11:31 pm

Silence after that crack, silence for a moment, a moment of nothingness.
Literally, nothingness.
The Nazi disappeared right before Kat's eyes. Literally, disappeared.
Yekaterin blinked at where he'd been for a minute. She wasn't that tired! Again, the hair at the back of her neck bristled, sending a chill of cold goosebumps right down her arms and over her back.
This was impossible, but she didn't second guess her vision. She had eyes like a hawk, and that was one of her major strengths. What was going on? What trickery was this? Kat had ducked back down behind the bales as soon as the Nazi was no longer visible, though for a moment she couldn't recall having done it.
I'll give you a minute to aim...
Fuck.
That.
It was a bold move, a very bold move, but Kat suddenly leapt up and over the bales of hay, bolting toward the cover of the shed.
Only... Only... Baikov? Her blue eye widened suddenly! No time for that now! She immediately changed her direction, ducking for a brief second behind a horse trailer not far from the barn. Whoever, or whatever she had just encountered was clearly back in the woods, the last place she wanted to be. She could hear him scramble up the tree, but then, nothing.
She eased a quiet breath out, and hit the ground running again, just a short but vigorous sprint the end of the long stone wall that encircled a little chapel across the narrow cobbled road.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
No, keep it together. Who cares what you saw... or didn't see, just move, move! Keeping in a low crouch she shot along the length of the wall until she was in the hallowed ground of the graveyard, ducked behind the big old yew tree. Her breath was hard and heavy, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. Whatever had happened back there sure wasn't kosher, and it had sure put the willies on her! Her mouth was dry, and bitter with adrenaline, and her mind did finally catch up to her body and let her know that that bitch Baikov had been shooting at her.
Was she hit again? She didn't know and didn't care. Just keep moving, move to better cover! No time to run back to the comrades now!
Abruptly, from her hiding spot, she vaulted up, over the wall, and sunk down behind it before dashing across the street into a little stone cottage. The door closed quietly behind her and the bolt slid into place with a satisfying 'THUNK.'
The cottage was tiny, one room, with a door at the far end through which she'd come, and two windows to one side. A fireplace stood barren in the opposite corner.
Hastily, she tipped the heavy old table over and ducked behind it so that she was hidden from the view of the windows. The rifle came up over the top of it, and was followed by two steely blue eyes, scanning back and forth from window to window. Her heart was still hammering hard in her chest. What a shitstorm this was! What chances! She swallowed and forced herself back into calm. There was no use being rilled and frightened, it only complicated things. She blinked slowly and drew in a steadying breath.
She hated waiting.
Would they come?
She imagined they would, and when they did, she'd be waiting for them.
The bolt on her rifle slid back, loading another round into the chamber.
(( Note, the windows are closed and still have glass in them, btw.))

« Last Edited by Yekaterin Dec 18th, 2007 at 04:39 am »
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The staff of this forum in no way endorse mass genocide, or any killing for that matter. Use of historical, national symbols or characters is for creative and art purposes only. Those persons sensitive to the History of and/or surrounding the events of World War II in Europe, Asia and the Americas are encouraged not to enter and participate. ~ Administrator.

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