((theres strong language in this one a lot...just a warning. also, mentions of sexual abuse / force))
Somewhere in a German war room, the following speech was being told from the grand Fuhrer himself to a select few of his generals regarding Russian loss and German victory:
"If I wanted to sum up the success of this campaign until now, then the number of prisoners now stands at approximately three point six million, that is, three million six hundred thousand prisoners. And please don’t tell me an English blockhead says that this has not been confirmed. If a German military officer counts something, then it is correct! There is an essential difference between a German officer and a British stockbroker! It is totally correct, just as our numbers for French and English prisoners were correct! The English know this quite well themselves because they always want to take care of their prisoners. Now, if I look at three point six million prisoners on the one side and I go by World War standards, then this means a corresponding number of casualties. It would be a bad testimonial for Mr. Stalin if his people were fighting less bravely now than they did in the World War. On the contrary, they fight in part out of fear and in part with bestial, fanatical madness. And, if I now assume that in Russia, as here with us, there are three to four wounded for every fatal casualty, then the result is an absolute loss of at least eight to ten million, without considering those only slightly wounded, who might be cured and put back into action. My party comrades, no army in the world can recover from this, not even the Russian."
The generals who surround this man all cheer in glee about their apparent victory. There was no way in Hell the Russian army could come back from such terrible, horrendous loses. The toll toward the Soviets was already in the millions. Millions! There was no chance for recovery. All that was left to do now was swoop in and attack Moscow.
Meanwhile, on the Leningrad Front
"God damn!" Viktor screeched, slamming his fist on the wooden table.
"What's wrong now?" Ivan asked, emotionless to things going wrong at this point.
"The damn Finns cracked some of our lower communication codes and broke it to that Hitler fucker."
"What?! What 'lower' communications were they?! Were any from Makar? Makar's information is always important!"
"No, of course not. Makar's codes are near impossible for our own to break." Viktor growled.
"What does he know?"
"We don't know." A new, calmer voice chimed in. Leo walked in the tent from the front. He was holding his rifle, and though his voice calm, he looked grim.
"What's wrong with you?" Ivan inquired.
"German troops were spotted by our scouts."
"Are... are you KIDDING ME?" the general shouted, grabbing his rifle.
This news wouldn't have been so bad to hear if Leningrad were not under Siege - all roads going to the city had been terminated. The only way for people to get there now was by private plane at an airport in the middle of literally nowhere for a covert flight. And the only people who got there were officials or Nazis. Luckily the winter was starting to set in, but with, apparently, the Nazis close, Ivan didn't know if it would actually stop them or not. Not to mention, his troops had very limited rations, limited supplies, there was little hope of most of them making it out alive. He'd already seen cases of hypothermia. He rushed from the tent in a hurry, willing to place himself in front of a whole army of Nazi troops for his city. If they thought bullets would stop him, they were wrong. Ivan hated the country's political direction, but this was his country. He'll be damned if Nazis are taking it from him. Makar was up with the scouts - due to shortage in other soldiers, Ivan had to use his own group for standard soldiers - and with Leo and Viktor in tow, he hopped in the car Leo had been taken back in and directed the driver toward the scout front. Unfortunately, before he even got to the area, he could hear artillery. He ducked under the car's protection along with Viktor and Leo - the poor driver had to keep watch on the makeshift road to guide the soldiers.
A grenade blasted in front of the car a little ways, luckily not hurting anyone inside. Ivan looked up at the sight to see the young but ever brave Makar fighting off German Panzer units with hand grenades and swift agility in a very deadly game of dodge ball. Of course, he wasn't the only soldier fighting, but the others were surely divided into more strategic groups to shield them better and to make better use of their resources. Some soldiers off to the sides of Makar shot occasionally at the tanks, but of course to no avail. It was entirely up to Makar to stop the tanks. All in seeming slow motion, Ivan watched with a surge of pride as Makar launched yet another grenade at a tank. Then Ivan saw him dart off to the left--
"IN COMING!!" Makar shouted, diving into a snow drift.
"The tank is firing!" Ivan yelled, "Everybody down!"
Of course, as Ivan told everybody to get down, he knew that if that tank shot at the car nobody except him would survive. He leapt from the car and, throwing his rifle behind him, put his arms in front of him like a cross and held his breath, tensing himself. He clenched his teeth as he awaited the explosion and the massive discomfort it would bring. He would live, of course - Stalin had put him through enough training exercises to ensure that - but when the battle was over he would surely have to rest and he couldn't have himself be out of commission even for a second. At the moment, though, protecting his comrades was more important than that. He stood there and awaited for the blast, but when he heard it, nothing happened to him. He opened his eyes to see Makar standing in front of him panting and the smoldering tank's ruins in front of the boy. Instantly Ivan's morale was boosted - Makar managed to stop the tank from firing with near superhuman speed. He grinned and picked up his rifle, supplying the boy with more anti-tank grenades before ducking into a snow drift with his other soldiers and taking command in Makar's stead.
'We can do this.' Ivan thought to himself with a smirk.
[Name] walked into the downstairs kitchen with a neutral expression on her face. She wasn't aware of the destruction and strife Ivan faced - and blissfully so. She didn't need to know that on top of her already stressful time under Stalin's command. The kitchen was eerily silent as she walked in with some rather interesting characters. Much to her surprise, she saw men working in the kitchen. She shrugged and looked around for someone who looked like a leader, expecting to be given a job. Nobody said a single word. Not even uttered a sound.
"Don't you guys talk?"
"No." One of the men replied.
"B-because, he comes in here and tells us not to!"
[Name] wore a proud grin and puffed her chest out.
"I'll be damned if he tells me to be quiet, I'm the wife of the General!"
"S-sorry for your loss." One of the women replied.
"W-wha...? No! He isn't dead! I'm talking about Ivan!"
"Which 'Ivan'? There are too many to count." One of the men retorted dryly.
"Ivan Braginsky." [Name] replied.
All of the people in the kitchen stopped dead in their tracks and looked to her with wide eyes. [Name] swore she saw several bright sparks; glimpses of their past selves.
"There is a God!"
'...What did I just throw myself into now?'
"Missus Braginsky!" One of the older women exclaimed. She ran over to [Name] and fell to her knees in plea, "You have to help one of us!"
"Only one of you?"
"The one that needs your blessing most... Sasha."
"Sasha?" [Name] repeated.
The elderly woman shakily pointed to a young teenager in the corner - she had two older women and one man surrounding her like a barricade as she worked. They nearly blocked her from all sight - [Name] was positive that's what the goal was. They all seemed to tense at the mention of her name.
"Sasha... poor, poor Sasha... she is a favorite of one of the men who checks on us... and... I dare say they are not courting."
"What does that me--... wait..." [Name] murmured. If Sasha and this man weren't courting, and they weren't married nor related, why was she...? Oh, no...
"Oh, my God..."
The elderly woman merely nodded with sorrow.
"Yes... I am afraid it is that... She comes back to us everyday and... well, she used to smile. She used to be full of vim and vigor, God bless the child."
"Who is this 'man' that checks up on you? I won't allow this while I'm here!"
"Shhh!! He'll be making his rounds soon!"
"Why is there talking...? Quite the shock for you boring lot..."
A new, heavy Russian accent walked into the room. [Name] whipped around to see someone she had heard of by name, but never actually seen. He was... shorter than [Name] expected, but that seemed to be a common theme around here; intimidating men who are actually not that intimidating looking. However, while he wasn't tall, he was absolutely creepy as hell. His round glasses didn't help his friendly appearance, neither did his overall grungy and mistrusting looks. He looked around the room, seeming to be searching for someone, when his eyes landed on the newest person there - [Name]. He raised an eyebrow.
"Someone new...? But... you are an officer? No matter." He walked closer to her and extended out an arm, "My name is Lavrenity Beria. You are...?"
"Comrade [Name]." She shook his hand; even it felt absolutely gross.
"What is your last name? I believe it is most polite to tell."
Beria looked surprised, even taken back a little. But he gave a quick, firm shake, withdrawing his hand.
"And you are here because...?"
"I'm working under Stalin while Ivan is away."
"I see... yes. Well, it was ever nice meeting you, Missus Braginsky, but I have... other matters to attend to..." He practically whispered, looking past her and into the small huddle of people.
However, [Name] stepped in front of him. He stood straight from his small lean and looked to her.
"Can I... help you?"
[Name] gritted her teeth into a snarl.
"You're not getting her today, you sick bastard."
"...Excuse me?" He asked, his tone surprisingly neutral.
"I said, you're not getting her today." [Name] hissed.
"...Guards... fetch Sasha for me. ...Down all who stand in your way."
Quickly did [Name]'s heart shatter as she watched the elderly reluctantly move away from the young teenager who stood as a stone in the corner. [Name] could see her neck littered with bruises, and not the good kind either. No, this was pure abuse. And it would not stand. [Name] knew Ivan would kill her if he were here, right after he killed Beria, but she had to do what was right. Before the guards got to Sasha, [Name] scooted back in front of the poor girl. The guards looked at her with serious faces and stern gazes. Beria scoffed in the back.
"Wife of Comrade Braginsky or no, you cannot hope to take on and defeat my guards! Sasha-- my prize, will be mine once more!"
"Sasha is a human being, not your... your PLAYTHING!"
"Please... if you resist... he'll take it out on me..." Sasha whispered. [Name] shook her head.
"If your guards got something against me I don't, lets see it!"
The guards rose their guns, though they did not shoot. As if bullets would stop [Name]. She used this opportunity to grab the ends of both rifles and yank them from the guards with surprising strength. Then she came back and used the butts of them to hit both guards upside the head. Beria's eyes went wide. [Name] took one of them, handed it to Sasha and took the other, pointing it at the guards.
"You have but one gun!" Beria exclaimed.
"But I have plenty of lead." [Name] hissed, "If you don't want this to end up a mess, you'd better take them and leave."
One of the guards, the poor fellow, thought he could best [Name] with a punch to the face. As soon as his arm moved toward her, the determined woman grabbed it and twisted it until there was a sickening CRACK! The guard yelled in pain and clutched his hand with wide eyes. At this, [Name] quickly punched the other guard in the face and then slammed the butt of the rifle against his head. He was knocked out instantly. Only Beria remain, but he wasn't going to give up so easily. He pulled out a handgun and fired it at [Name] - Sasha let out a scream as soon as she heard the noise from the gun.
The bullet went right into the butt of the rifle and got stuck there in the wood. Obviously the shot wasn't very strong. His eyes were wide with fear as [Name] raced toward him and slapped his face, then stole his pistol, finally getting him to the ground and kicking him several times in the balls. Everyone in the kitchen was left staring at her with wide eyes - certainly no human could fight like she had, right? Beria's face was screwed up in pain, embarrassment and anger looking up at her. [Name] just wore the same shit eating grin Ivan had hours ago. The man on the ground stood up with the help of his conscious guard (and his one good hand) and looked angrily at [Name].
"First, I'll get you. And then, I'll have my reward. Braginsky's wife or not."
"I look forward to finally killing you, you sick bastard." [Name] growled.
With that final exchange, Beria limped out of the room and [Name] not only was proclaimed a heroine, but now made a major enemy...
this took like a month to get out im sorry lmao.. october is busier than i thought tbh.
beria. beria is a lil bitch. and yes, he is a real person.
i dont think sasha is, but some of his victim's names wont be released until 2028 so there could be a sasha on the list.
i hope you guys like this one, im proud of it myself. tho theres probably going to be more chapters because it's the fourth chapter and still only on the first day rip...
fav or comment if u liked it!
i dont own russia... or beria. but like HONESTLY who wants that trash? fucking nobody.
miss a chapter?
find it here!
chapter 1- here
chapter 2- here
chapter 3- here
chapter 4- (you're here!)
chapter 5- here
chapter 6- here
chapter 7- here
chapter 8- here
final chapter- here