Author's Note: [kind of a cliche author's note to add, but this is my first time publishing a story! I rarely write... so be easy on me...]

[also if a certain individual is reading this (you know who you are) then I hope you're not too shocked...]

[updates are definitely planned]

[and none of this is canon in the overall scope of this universe]


Part 1

the soldiers that are holding your arms finally release you, into a small, dimly-lit room. The freedom was temporary though, as the stockier of the two soldiers catches your upper arm. you struggle in his grip, and he growls

"you better fucking behave, alright?"

"Fuck off" you yell, throwing a punch towards him.

your fist connects with his face beneath his balaclava, leaving a shooting pain in your wrist due to the force of the punch. This staggers him a bit, leaving an opening for you to line up another attack. Before you get very far, the second soldier sweeps your legs out from under you with the butt of his rifle and in an instant, there's a boot on your chest pinning you to the floor.

"You thought you were gonna be tricky, huh? Gonna regret that." The soldier says as he increases the pressure on your chest, while the guy you had punched is standing, getting his bearings.

You look to your left and notice another person in the room, someone you didn't see at first. A gaunt figure huddled under a grimy white blanket, leaning into the corner. He's staring listlessly ahead of him, seemingly unaffected by the events around him, save for the occasional flinch. You shout to him.

"You! can you fucking he-"

The soldier stepping on you presses the stock of his rifle into your throat, sharply cutting you off. He looks back and asks:

"You got the lock? Be quick, this one's a mess"

"Yeah one sec, little fucker hit me good" he replies, stepping closer.

You try to push him away as he approaches, but the soldier on top of you pushes hard on your ribcage, making it hard for you to draw a breath. You instinctively grab onto his boot, trying to alleviate some of the pressure. In this distracted moment, the second soldier kneels down and wraps the end of a chain around your neck and locks it in place. after a second, both the soldiers step back. You scramble to sit up and you see that the end of the chain is attached to some pipes running along the walls.

"Alright, you gonna be good with her now?" the first soldier asks, snapping your attention back to them.

"Yep." the second one replies.

The second, stockier soldier advances towards you as the first one leaves the small room, closing the door behind him. You start to stand up, but he quickly steps on the chain, necking you short. He suddenly kneels into one of your legs, pinning you down. You start to fight back, but you suddenly feel the chain around your neck tighten and your hands shoot to your neck.

"S-shit... what do... you fu-fucking wa-nt?" you manage to choke out, your breathing turning into wheezes.

"What do I want? Haven't you figured it out yet?" He says lightly.

The soldier reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cheap, folding pocket knife. He flicks it open, then looks at you intently.

"You're gonna be good, alright? I don't want you to do something you'll regret." The soldier growls.

You move your arm to flip him off, and in an instant the point of the blade is under your chin, stabbing at your throat.

"You fuckin' move and you're dead."

You slowly, very slowly move your arm down to your side. you relax briefly, and in response the soldier lowers the knife and loosens his grip on the chain.

"Good girl. I think you're getting it now." he says quietly.

He puts the hand that was holding the chain on your shoulder. He slowly moves his hand down towards your breasts, taking his time to feel your contours. He puts his knife on the ground near your right hip. he moves his hands to unbutton your shirt. You take this moment to snatch his knife, and with fury in your veins you strike out at him, successfully incising along his inner arm. He's just fast enough to avoid a cut deep enough to be serious, and he stumbles back, to out of the reach of your chain. You can tell he's furious now.

"You want to fucking test me? I'm not playing anymore" He shouts, reaching down to his hip.

He pulls a pistol from his side, pointing it at you. You put the knife down and freeze. He comes up to you and straddles across your lap. He jabs the gun into your cheek.

"I won't fucking hesitate, okay? I'm not bluffing" The soldier says, pushing the barrel against you.

With his free hand, he starts to unbutton your shirt. He gets to the bottom and slides it off of your shoulders. He tosses your shirt to the side and grins, looking at your chest. You feel his rough hands undo your bra and feel all over your torso, taking in all your shapes and contours.

You look to the side and you catch the blanketed figure's gaze for second, but his eyes quickly flick downwards. Your attention is pulled forwards when you feel the soldier unbuttoning your pants. This causes you to start struggling a bit, and with that the soldier hits you in the head with the butt of his pistol, hard. The pain causes you see stars for a second. He unzips your pants and shoves his free hand down into your crotch. You draw air as he shoves a finger inside of you.

You wince in pain as he pushes another two fingers inside of you. you so badly want to struggle, but the pistol held to your head is a stark reminder to hold still. The soldier pulls his hand from your pants and smells his fingers.

"You're learning, good. I'll go easy on you today. If you suck me off, I'll spare your... other parts for now." He says, undoing the button fly on his pants.

"Oh fuck you" You say, but as you're looking up at him, he roughly grabs your hair and pushes your face against his groin.

He puts the barrel of his pistol against the top of your head.

"Start sucking"

You begrudgingly open your mouth, and he shoves his cock into you, nearing your throat. You gag a bit at this.

"If I feel any teeth you're dead."

You can feel tears streaking down your face. Your nose hurts as he pushes himself into you, thrusting over and over. After a couple minutes of this, he slows his rate down, finishing up.

He pushes you back, seemingly satisfied. You're coughing and on the verge of tears. He puts himself away and buttons his pants back up.

"get used to it" the soldier says, grabbing your spare clothing off the ground, "And you're gonna have to earn these back."

The soldier leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. You're sobbing on the cold concrete. You feel violated. You feel used. You feel angry. Still sobbing, you turn to the other person in the room. You're holding your chest in an attempt to cover yourself. You begin to shout at the person between sobs.

"Why didn't you do anything? You just sat there idly while they fucking... ah shit..."

At first the person seemed at least somewhat engaged in what you were saying, but once you raised your voice, he lapsed back into staring into nothing, leaning into the wall. You're thinking to yourself about the severity of your situation and it feels so hopeless. It's been a while now and you've calmed down a bit. You're curled up on the ground, facing the corner. From behind you is the sound of chains moving, so you look back. The figure in the room with you is offering you the blanket.

You stare for a second, as you were surprised to see that he's missing the majority of his left arm, only left with a stump a couple inches shorter than where the elbow would be. He's in a similar state of undress as you are, except for an old pair of boxers, and that's allowing you to see what looks like burn scars along his side and parts of his back. There's also much, much fresher injuries spotted along his torso. Upon seeing the bruises along his ribs, you understand why he kept his profile low earlier.

"Th-thanks" you say, with your voice wavering.

You grab the blanket from him. it's filthy. But at least it's something. You wrap it over your shoulders as a way to cover yourself. You take a deep shaky breath. You feel like you've calmed down enough to talk.

"What is this? Why me?" You ask.

No reply. You're instead met with a sympathetic, if a bit confused look on his face.

"Can you talk? Are you allowed to?" You're starting to wonder if there's something wrong with him.

His eyes meet yours, and linger for a minute. It looks like he's wanting to tell you something. He opens his mouth, and says a quiet sentence in... Czech?... no, Russian. You can't understand, but it sounds apologetic. That explains it. You can't imagine being in this scenario without being able to understand anything.

You slump back towards the wall. You've got a feeling that this is gonna be a long, long day.


Part 2 (added: 2020/04/13)

the soldiers that are holding your arms finally release you, into a small, dimly-lit room. The freedom was temporary though, as the stockier of the two soldiers catches your upper arm. you struggle in his grip, and he growls

"you better fucking behave, alright?"

"Fuck off" you yell, throwing a punch towards him.

your fist connects with his face beneath his balaclava, leaving a shooting pain in your wrist due to the force of the punch. This staggers him a bit, leaving an opening for you to line up another attack. Before you get very far, the second soldier sweeps your legs out from under you with the butt of his rifle and in an instant, there's a boot on your chest pinning you to the floor.

"You thought you were gonna be tricky?" The soldier says as he increases the pressure on your chest, while the guy you had punched is standing, getting his bearings.

You look to your left and notice another person in the room, someone you didn't see at first. A gaunt figure huddled under a grimy white blanket, leaning into the corner. He's staring listlessly ahead of him, seemingly unaffected by the events around him, save for the occasional flinch. You shout to him.

"You! can you fucking he-"

The soldier stepping on you presses the stock of his rifle into your throat, sharply cutting you off. He looks back and asks:

"You got the lock? Be quick, this one's a mess"

"Yeah one sec, little fucker hit me good" he replies, stepping closer.

You try to push him away as he approaches, but the soldier on top of you pushes hard on your ribcage, making it hard for you to draw a breath. You instinctively grab onto his boot, trying to alleviate some of the pressure. In this distracted moment, the second soldier kneels down and wraps the end of a chain around your neck and locks it in place. after a second, both the soldiers step back. You scramble to sit up and you see that the end of the chain is attached to some pipes running along the walls.

"Alright, you gonna be good with her now?" the first soldier asks, snapping your attention back to them.

"Yep." the second one replies.

The second, stockier soldier advances towards you as the first one leaves the small room, closing the door behind him. You start to stand up, but he quickly steps on the chain, necking you short. He suddenly kneels into one of your legs, pinning you down. You start to fight back, but you suddenly feel the chain around your neck tighten and your hands shoot to your neck.

"S-shit... what do... you fu-fucking wa-nt?" you manage to choke out, your breathing turning into wheezes.

"What do I want? Haven't you figured it out yet?" He says lightly.

The soldier reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cheap, folding pocket knife. He flicks it open, then looks at you intently.

"You're gonna be good, alright? I don't want you to do something you'll regret." The soldier growls.

You move your arm to flip him off, and in an instant the point of the blade is under your chin, stabbing at your throat.

"You fuckin' move and you're dead."

You slowly, very slowly move your arm down to your side. you relax briefly, and in response the soldier lowers the knife and loosens his grip on the chain.

"Good girl. I think you're getting it now." he says quietly.

You hate the way he talks to you.

He puts the hand that was holding the chain on your shoulder. He slowly moves his hand down towards your breasts, taking his time to feel your contours. He puts his knife on the ground near your right hip. he moves his hands to unbutton your shirt. You take this moment to snatch his knife, and with fury in your veins you strike out at him, successfully incising along his inner arm. He's just fast enough to avoid a cut deep enough to be serious, and he stumbles back, out of the reach of your chain. You can tell he's furious now.

"You want to fucking test me? I'm not playing anymore" He shouts, reaching down to his hip.

He pulls a pistol from his side, pointing it at you. You put the knife down and freeze. He comes up to you and straddles across your lap. He jabs the gun into your cheek.

"I won't fucking hesitate, okay? I'm not bluffing" The soldier says, pushing the barrel against you.

With his free hand, he starts to unbutton your shirt. He gets to the bottom and slides it off of your shoulders. He tosses your shirt to the side and grins, looking at your chest. You feel his rough hands undo your bra and feel all over your torso, taking in all your shapes and contours.

You look to the side and you catch the blanketed figure's gaze for second, but his eyes quickly flick downwards. Your attention is pulled forwards when you feel the soldier unbuttoning your pants. This causes you to start struggling a bit, and with that the soldier hits you in the head with the butt of his pistol, hard. The pain causes you see stars for a second. He unzips your pants and shoves his free hand down into your crotch. You draw air as he shoves a finger inside of you.

You wince in pain as he pushes another two fingers inside of you. you so badly want to struggle, but the pistol held to your head is a stark reminder to hold still. The soldier pulls his hand from your pants and smells his fingers.

"You're learning, good. I'll go easy on you today. If you suck me off, I'll spare your... other parts for now." He says, undoing the button fly on his pants.

"Oh fuck you" You say, but as you're looking up at him, he roughly grabs your hair and pushes your face against his groin.

He puts the barrel of his pistol against the top of your head.

"Start sucking"

You begrudgingly open your mouth, and he shoves his cock into you, nearing your throat. You gag a bit at this.

"If I feel any teeth you're dead."

You can feel tears streaking down your face. Your nose hurts as he pushes himself into you, thrusting over and over. After a couple minutes of this, he slows his rate down, finishing up.

He pushes you back, seemingly satisfied. You're coughing and on the verge of tears. He puts himself away and buttons his pants back up.

"get used to it," the soldier says, grabbing your spare clothing off the ground, "And you're gonna have to earn these back."

The soldier leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. You're sobbing on the cold concrete. You feel violated. You feel used. You feel angry. Still sobbing, you turn to the other person in the room. You're holding your chest in an attempt to cover yourself. You begin to shout at the person between sobs.

"Why didn't you do anything? You just sat there idly while they fucking... ah shit..."

At first the person seemed at least somewhat engaged in what you were saying, but once you raised your voice, he lapsed back into staring into nothing, leaning into the wall. You're thinking to yourself about the severity of your situation and it feels so hopeless.

It's been a while now and you've calmed down a bit. You're curled up on the ground, facing the corner. From behind you is the sound of chains moving, so you look back. The figure in the room with you is offering you his blanket.

You stare for a second, as you were surprised to see that he's missing the majority of his left arm, only left with a stump a couple inches shorter than where the elbow would be. He's in a similar state of undress as you are, except for an old pair of boxers, and that's allowing you to see what looks like large burn scars along his side and parts of his back. There's also much, much fresher injuries spotted along his torso. Upon seeing the bruises along his ribs, you understand why he kept his profile low earlier.

"Th-thanks" you say, with your voice wavering.

You grab the blanket from him. it's filthy. But at least it's something. You wrap it over your shoulders as a way to cover yourself. You take a deep shaky breath. You feel like you've calmed down enough to talk.

"What is this? Why me?" You ask.

No reply. You're instead met with a sympathetic, if a bit confused look on his face.

"Can you talk? Are you allowed to?" You're starting to wonder if there's something wrong with him.

His eyes meet yours, and linger for a minute. It looks like he's wanting to tell you something. He opens his mouth, and says a quiet sentence in... Czech?... no, Russian. You can't understand, but it sounds apologetic. That explains it. You can't imagine being in this scenario without being able to understand anything.

You slump back towards the wall. You've got a feeling that this is gonna be a long, long day.

You weren't able to sleep much in the hours that were uninterrupted, but the other person in the room with you seemed to be comfortable, or as comfortable as you could be on a concrete floor. He frequently stirred, but you could tell that he's been here a while, by the way he was able to find rest in a place like this. The door to the boiler room opens, and a soldier walks in. It's one you don't recognize from earlier, seems a bit younger. He's holding a small parcel.

"What the fuck! can I get any answers?!" You shout.

the soldier recoils, and seems a bit shaken by this, then stumbles over his words.

"I-eh-I don't have a-any answers. I-"

"Why am I here? Why is he here?" You reach the end of the chain around your neck, holding the blanket up around you with one hand.

The soldier takes a step back towards the open doorway.

"I'm sorry, I uh, I just feed the prisoners. I'm sorry" He says, holding out the roughly postcard-sized parcel.

You look at him for a moment, not sure of what to do. you aggressively take the parcel and flip him off. You hear him apologize once more as he walks out the door and closes it behind him, not daring to look back.

You sit down, and place the parcel on the ground. The amputee in the room with you scoots towards the middle of the room, closer to the end of his chain. You move closer to him, and tear the paper holding the parcel shut. you unwrap two pieces of rye bread, one of which is the heel.

"Which do you want?" You ask, forgetting the language barrier. He does nothing except stare.

You take the heel, figuring you'd give the better half to him. He takes it and eats it slowly, savoring each piece. After a moment of sitting wordlessly, you ask,

"What's your name? What do I call you?" No response, as expected. You try again

"My name," you gesture to yourself "is Dace." You then gesture to him. "what do I call you?"

"...Kirill" he says, with the word surrounded by bits of stuff you don't understand.

You and him sit in silence, not sure where to go after that. You never realized how hard it was to absolve awkwardness without conversation. You draw the blanket tighter around you, still not used to the relative vulnerability in this state of undress. Once again, the reality of your situation dawns on you, and you can't help but cry. Kirill goes back towards his corner, and leans back up against the wall, same as the day before. You're not liking this new regular.

As you sit there sniffling, you begin to listen to all the sounds emitted from the furnace and machinery around you. It's quiet. when the furnace kicks off and the fan ceases to hum, you can hear Kirill's breathing from the corner, or the dozens of boot steps upstairs. You're bored. Really bored. Time doesn't seem like a factor here, there's no windows, only concrete walls. On occasion, there'll be a set of footsteps heading down the hall, but they fade as steadily as they appeared. As you listen, another set of footsteps go through the hall, but this time, they stop by the door. The lock on the blast door clicks, and the mechanism squeals open. You wearily look up at the person standing in the doorway, it's the stockier soldier from yesterday.

"Get up." He says, pulling a drag from his cigarette.

You stand, feeling the rage and fear start to well in your chest.

"Drop the blanket. You didn't earn it."

This time you don't comply, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of holding power.

"Did he give you that?" The soldier asks, pointing towards Kirill.

Even though it was a rhetorical question, you answer.

"Only because unionard pigs like you can't even give me the decency of-" You get cut off before you could finish your sentence.

The soldier had grabbed the chain around your neck, right under your throat. He rips the blanket away from you, leaving you fully exposed. Your face is right close to his, and there's a moment of stillness. He begins to speak, but you respond by kneeing him in the crotch, which makes him recoil. The cigarette drops from his mouth.

His grip on the chain loosens, but you fall with him, the chain still hooked around his fingers. He's able to recover faster than you, and that results in him kicking you down, now held face-down against the floor with a boot in your back.

"You really haven't figured it out, have you? Put your hands behind your back."

"Fuck off" you spit

"I don't have the time to deal with this right now" The soldier says, unholstering his pistol.

He rattles with something else on his belt, something you can't see from your current angle.

He begins, "I'm gonna count to three, and if I get to three, you're dead. Alright?"

You say nothing.

"One"

You lay still, his cigarette smoldering near your face.

"Two" he says, cocking his pistol.

You tense, but make no moves.

"Thr-" You cut him off by quickly placing your hands behind your back.

"That's what I thought." he says. "Fucking bitch..."

He places a pair of handcuffs around your wrists and ratchets them tight. He steps off your back and lets you orient yourself, but he stays out of your chain-given range. He kicks the blanket out of your reach as well.

"You made the wrong decision, with that" the soldier says, gesturing at the blanket. "you didn't earn it, you used it anyways. You know what that gets you?"

He doesn't give you time to respond as he walks over to Kirill. He scoots away from the soldier, but ultimately is cornered. The soldier crouches down on one knee and grabs a fistful of the russian's hair.

"Do you know what you did wrong?" He asks, tilting Kirill's head up to face him.

As you expected, Kirill doesn't respond. His wide eyes just flick around, scanning the soldier's face.

"You see that? He doesn't even know what he did. And he's going to get it because you accepted that"

The soldier stands up, pulling Kirill with him. They both stand, and you're surprised to see that Kirill is a little taller than the soldier, as he seemed small enough when he was curled up in the corner. However, the soldier is much stronger than he is, so any protest is dealt with quickly. The soldier wraps the chain around a pipe and pulls it tight, so Kirill has to stand up on his toes. Any lower and his airway would be choked off. As the chain is being secured, he starts to pull at the chain around his neck, since even when he's on his toes, he struggles to breathe.

The soldier steps back. Kirill's breaths are ragged, peppered with the occasional light cough. His arm is up, his hand trying to pull slack into the chain. He's struggling to stay up high enough to breathe, and he's toppling around a bit. Small steps to try and catch balance. The soldier goes to retrieve his cigarette, crouching near you.

"You see that? you're not just hurting yourself by misbehaving." he says, pulling from his cigarette.

"What the hell? Why would you do that?" You shout

"To teach you something. You screwed it up for him, but I'll give you a chance to fix it. But first, I've got to put this on his records."

The soldier stands and walks over to Kirill, who is currently gulping for breath and struggling to stand tall enough. the soldier stands in front of him and grabs Kirill's stump arm, and pushes his back into the wall with his forearm across Kirill's chest. Something changed in Kirill's demeanor. you could tell that he knew exactly what was coming next, and that he hated it. He wasn't just going along with things, he was definitely struggling here.

The soldier took the cigarette out of his mouth, and tightens his grip on Kirill's arm. He puts the cigarette out on the end of the stump, grinding it down. Kirill curses and chokes while trying to squirm out of the grip as much as the short chain allowed him, but fails.

The soldier lets go of him, and reflexively Kirill tries to stand back on his heels, to relax a second after that, but when his air is cut off, he strains to stand back up on his tip-toes. He's audibly coughing and gagging. Looking at the end of his arm, you see about a dozen more small, roughly circular burn scars, presumably more cigarette marks.

"You want to make it up now?" The soldier asks, turning towards you.

"What are you gonna make me do? Jack you off?" You ask, and as terrible as it may be, you just want Kirill to be able to breathe again.

"Hah. I appreciate the gesture, but there's plenty of time for that. You're gonna make it up to him." He says, gesturing to Kirill.

"W-what? To him...?"

The soldier ignores you, and walks over to the end of your chain, and rattling a set of keys off his belt, he unlocks the lock holding your chain to the wall. You realize how immense of an opportunity this is, and if in the off-chance the door is unlocked, this might be your ticket to freedom, as slight as it might be. You stand as quickly as you can, and dart towards the door. You try and open the door quickly, but your force goes nowhere. your shoulder painfully hits the door, as your hands are still tightly bound around your back. You look back and see that the soldier had stepped on the end of your chain, and was quickly approaching you. His hand slams into the back of your head, pushing your cheek into the cold metal of the door.

"Oh you're going to regret this later, trust me, you're damn lucky I'm short on time." He growls.

He wraps the chain short around his hand, and pulls it back, forcing you to fall backwards. You struggle to your knees, and as the soldier walks towards the wall, you manage to move forwards along with him, half dragging behind. He pulls you to kneel in front of Kirill.

"You know what to do." He says, pulling your face right into Kirill's crotch.

"What? You psycho, you can't make me-" You begin, your face getting pushed even closer to Kirill's scrawny pelvis. You try and fight back but you struggle with your hands locked behind your back.

"You want me to let him down, don't you?" the soldier asks.

You look up at Kirill, whose face is noticeably red as he struggles to breathe. He looks down at you, his brown eyes relatively watery. You and him share eye contact, and you feel so much pity for the poor man standing in front of you.

"I am so fucking sorry" You say, and position your face to use your nose and nudge down his boxers.

He tries to squirm away from you, but to no avail, as he's got no slack.

You continue to apologize as you take his average length into your mouth. You bob your head around a bit, trying to appear to do a satisfactory job, just to get it over with quicker. His length had hardened just a little, and you look up at him, and you see he is no longer clawing at the chain, and instead is ducking into his elbow, hiding his face. In between coughs and ragged breaths, you can hear quiet sobs.

After a few minutes of this with no progress, the soldier deems you close to finishing, and pushes your nose into Kirill's hips, forcing his cock down your throat, choking you. You try to pull back and catch a breath, but the soldier's hand keeps your head tightly against him.

"This is how he fucking feels right now, because of you." The soldier says as you gasp for breath, your airway painfully blocked.

He holds you there for much longer than you're able to hold your breath, so you start to struggle immensely. Kirill's member fills your throat, forcing you to gasp and choke. After what feels like an eternity, you're released. You recoil, gasping for air.

"I am so goddamn sorry. I am so fucking sorry man" You say, even though you know it's falling upon unknowing ears. You're dragged back to your spot, and chained back in place. You're complacent this time as you just want to be left alone.

The soldier begins to walk away, without paying any mind to Kirill, whose strength is drained, and is mostly just standing flat-footed, barely even breathing, and his boxers around one ankle, as his struggling had kicked free the other.

"Wait! Aren't you going to help him?" You ask, feeling cheated.

The soldier leaves the room, without answering. He leaves the door open.

He walks back in the room after a moment, this time holding a different set of keys and something made of fabric. He walks over to Kirill and unlocks the end of the chain that's around the pipe, and he immediately falls to the floor. The soldier drops the fabric and locks the chain lower, to its prior position, then leaves the room. Kirill is gasping and coughing, drawing air into his starved lungs. He's curled up now, hiding his face in his elbow. You see him shuddering a bit, as if he's holding back tears.

After he recovered a bit, he pulls his boxers up and picks up the fabric, which is revealed to be a faded black t-shirt. He pulls it on over his head, and leans back into the wall, avoiding your glance. You wish that you two shared a language. You wanted to apologize proper. You just wanted him to be able to breathe.

"Hey" You say softly.

He sits up and grimaces, as if he's going to cry again, and starts on a rambling sentence. You don't understand a word of it, although it sounds awfully... apologetic? Maybe that's not the right word, you decide. it's definitely sorrowful. He stops, and stares at you, expectantly. After a moment his shoulders slump, and his face twists back into a grimace, and he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. You can tell he's trying hard to keep himself composed.

"I-I really don't know what to say... I don't want to hurt you more... I am so goddamn sorry. You get it though, right? You understand what kind of sick fucks they are, right?" You say, not really expecting a reply.

Again he just responds with a stare, and leans back into the wall, and as he does so, he mutters something, and gestures to his shirt. You're not sure what he's trying to say, but you realize that even though there's the barrier between you two, it's nice to be able to have someone to talk to, in such a lonely place like this. You can't imagine how dull everything must have been for him before you got here. Even though you've only been here roughly two days, life's been terrible. You're so thankful for the moments of comraderie you've had with Kirill. it's such a shame that you're not able to hold a conversation proper.

As you ponder this, you realize that there's no way that he's a prisoner of war like you are, as the militia is purely Latvian. Was he just some civilian that was abducted to play along with their sick games? As you realize this, it makes you hate the fucking union even more. You're not sure how, but you promise yourself that you're gonna break out of here, and take Kirill with you.

You think about how much you miss your girlfriend, and you wonder if she made it out of the raid, or if she's ended up like you... or worse. Just thinking about her, and thinking about this situation wells tears to your eyes. You don't like crying, especially here. It just makes you feel all the more powerless.