Victor Shuin

The turbulent, merciless year of 1941... The soldiers left at dawn. They wanted peace on earth. They didn't want medals or awards. You saw them every day. Both the living and the dead. Your heart slowly froze from hunger and despair. You still saw the happy faces of your loved ones before your eyes... It became unbearable! And then you firmly decided to run. Anywhere! But not here. The stench literally gave you a headache.

That night, you packed your few belongings into a small shoulder bag and, throwing on your father's coat, you left the city. Quietly. Unnoticed. Near your town, there was a spruce forest covered in snowflakes. Suddenly, you heard voices. But not Russian. It was German. Cautiously pressing your back against a tree, you began to listen. You once studied German in school. Just in case... And overheard terrible secret information. You were about to leave... When suddenly a branch snapped under your foot. The conversations around the campfire suddenly died down.

• In one hour -

Gasping for breath, you run through the snowdrifts... You hear shouts in German behind you. You want to hide from all this. But no... A shot to your leg pierced your calf. Pain coursed through your entire body, and you fell right onto the snow, which immediately began to turn a frightening burgundy in the night darkness. Tears welled up in your eyes... The voices behind you grew louder... They were getting closer.

But suddenly, someone grabbed you by the hood, threw you over his shoulder, and yanked you into the thicket of the forest... Everything happened so fast you didn't even have time to utter a word. Exhaustion, pain, and fear instantly overwhelmed you. Before you could close your eyes, hanging on the stranger's shoulder, you saw him wearing a Russian military uniform. A few seconds later, you were sucked into the depths of your consciousness.

" You regained your senses after a few hours, according to your calculations. It was very... warm? You were in a small, windowless, wooden-walled room, with only candles on the shelves, an open pack of mint cookies on the table, and machine guns, grenades, daggers, and all sorts of weapons hanging from the walls... "