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Author Topic: Kystlinje [Mature]  (Read 3613 times)

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Offline Stan'

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Kystlinje [Mature]
« on: November 20, 2008, 05:44:29 PM »
20:10/Norwegian-Soviet Union Border/Lt. Mikhail Kirechenko
The town was dead.  The streets bombed, the houses shelled, the rooftops flattened from artillery.  What was once a small village of peace and quietness now erased from the map, a memory in the minds of the few who survived through the violent tale.  The Soviet attack was barbaric, slaughtering hundreds.  It began at 13:30, with the first squadron of strategic bombers dropping their cargo on the Norwegian hamlet, followed twenty minutes later by a battery of artillery guns spitting their shells for safe measure.  What was left of the town fell under the footsteps of a battalion from the Russian 351st Infantry, supported by half a dozen tanks.

Mikhail Kirechenko, Lieutenant and platoon leader, currently sat on his throne in the south of the town, overlooking the destroyed bridge that led downwards in to the heart of Norway.  Without it up and running, supply would slow and the advance would near enough halt.  Mikhail shook his head at command
« Last Edit: November 21, 2008, 12:20:06 PM by Stanmore »

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Re: Kystlinje
« Reply #1 on: November 20, 2008, 10:12:19 PM »
The woman inside jumped at the sudden slamming of the door. She had picked herself up off the bathroom floor after they had thrown her in here and locked the door, the attire that they expected her to wear still lay in it's piled heap on the floor. She refused to touch it, refused to wear it. Ignoring the man's voice on the other side of the door, the voice that belonged to the man who had caused it so she was thrown in here in the first place. It had been his order, to wear the clothing. It smelt of decay, she was so not putting the clothing on.
Moving to the far side of the bathroom, she stood there, arms crossed over her breasts as she glarred at the door. Earlier, she had been terrified, afraid of what was going on... she wasn't anything anymore than a simple journalist... did they even know that? Surely not... maybe she was just the unlucky victim of the day who was going to be killed later in the end. No, she'd make a run for it before that. Get back to her sister and brother, make sure they were ok.
A rat scurried across the floor inches from the clothes that she was expected to wear. Juron, that was her name, the name she refused to give to the georgous dirty blonde haired man who had been guessing earlier through the door, asking, demanding at points for her to tell almost let out a scream at the sight of the rat. Of all things, during the middle of a war she didn't understand a rat, was the main thing that could easily cause her to scream. It made it's way slowly towards her booted feet, sniffing the ground as it came closer, she drew herself up more against the wall, sucking in her breath hoping it didn't come any closer. When it did though, Juron let out a squeak and kicked it hard, the bones crushing from her foot's impact. It hit the bathroom door with a loud thud before dropping to the ground in a dead, ugly rodent heap.
"Go to hell!" She shouted finally, rubbing her arms, a shuddering passing down her spine. God that was gross, she had touched the rat.

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #2 on: November 23, 2008, 05:27:49 PM »
20:15/Norwegian-Soviet Union Border/Lt. Mikhail Kirechenko
From her response, Mikhail somehow knew that she hadn

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #3 on: November 24, 2008, 12:03:22 AM »
A scream had ripped through her throat at the sudden impact the door recieved, basically knocking it off it's hindges. Her hands moved to cover her mouth, eyes wide with shock, even though she wasn't surprised since she knew that Mikhail had stood on the other side. Taking a deep breath, the woman tried to stop her trembling hands. God, she hated how scared she felt right now, with him so close to her again. She was unarmed, with no way to defend herself, especially since he had a gun. Sure, she could possibly run, but running from a bullet? She was no 007. She didn't even really know how to fight. Of course, she knew strategies and tactics to help defend herself, but that was basically it. Nothing to keep this Russian man at bay.
Juron sucked in a deep breath again, willing her hands down to her side as she stood there her dark eyes glarring at the man. She heard no emptyness behind his threats, but even if he shot her, Juron wouldn't care as much as it hurt. She refused to wear those... rags that were on the floor. They probably wouldn't fit her anyways. They were from a random source, maybe even a dead body. She shivered at that thought. It wasn't something she really wanted to think about. Her gaze darted from his face to the opening behind him, estimating and judging the chance she had of getting past him, and out the door, running as far and as fast as she could until someone caught up with her and possibly killed her. They didn't look good. Especially since that's how they had caught her in the first place, she had tried to run for it, after her friend across the town's border but they'd caught her first, she hadn't been as fast as him even as he tried to help her.
Well, at least he had made it out. Tomas deserved to live, especially since he had been the one to try and worn the bastards of the city about what was going to happen. He definatly didn't deserve to die from something he'd tried to warn everyone about. That would just be cruel and unruley. But, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe they had caught the man somewhere else, taken him in, questioned him, tortured him... she hoped not. He didn't need this sort of treatment. Juron couldn't help but feel like it was her fault they hadn't listened to him, even after how hard she tried, she should have tried harder.
At Mikhail's final threat, she felt bile rise in her throat, her stumach clench in complete fear at his words. It had been something she'd been hoping not to happen the minute his disgusting hands had knocked her to the ground. She didn't want to be brought down so low, as to be a forced play thing for his stupid men in this stupid war. Watching his booted foot kick the clothes towards her, she almost bent down to pick them up, almost but didn't. Instead, she squared her shoulders, looked Mikhail straight in the eye and simply replied with, "No."

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #4 on: November 24, 2008, 04:41:52 PM »
20:21/Norwegian-Soviet Union Border/Lt. Mikhail Kirechenko
Mikhail scratched below his chin, where a small roughness of stubble had begun to form from a day or two of shave-free mornings.  He also grinned, he had to admire her bravery but as a matter of fact, it was mere stupidity on her part.  She had been told what would happen if she said no, or refused in any way, and here they were.  The woman shaking her head, while Mikhail had a gun in his hand.  Maybe he wasn

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #5 on: November 25, 2008, 02:47:47 PM »
It wasn't the fact that sometimes when he spoke his pronounceation was bad, it was just the fact that she didn't want to. Didn't want to give into this man's demands. He had come, with his men, his machines, weapons and blood on the mind to her city, her beautiful home and burned it, spilt blood and turned it into a scene from a horror movie. They had split families, raped women, killed the men. Surely it made no difference to them, to him if she continued to disobey and allowed them to kill her. It was just another body for them to add to their stupid count, let their ego's inflate even more.
Juron had managed to get her breathing under control, she no longer felt the strong sense of fear she had when she first saw him pull out the gun, when he had first knocked teh door in and came through. Her chocolate brown eyes watched his hand, noted as he pulled back on the trigger slowly, his facial expression never changing. He had to be one heartless bastard to be able just shoot anybody. Especially with that stupid grin he decided to hold cross his lips. It didn't meet his eyes, which gave him a hollow look.
A scream ripped through her chest, her hand flying instantly to cover the wound that now spurted blood from her arm. She heard the bullet hit the wall, embedding itself there after it went out the back of her arm and she almost fell to her knee, the blood seeping through her fingers as she clasped her hand around it, tears flowing down from her eyes at the intense pain that she felt. 'then I

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #6 on: November 25, 2008, 03:26:33 PM »
20:24/Norwegian-Soviet Union Border/Lt. Mikhail Kirechenko

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #7 on: November 25, 2008, 04:55:33 PM »
Of course, when he had shot her, Juron hadn't expected him to be able to fix it. He wouldn't care if it got infected, or caused her much discomfort. It wouldn't affect him any. The bastard would probably enjoy watching her suffer. Her shirt sleeve was already basically soaked through with the little bit of time she'd stood from the blood. It had turned a darker red when she had been dealing with the pants problem, the movement making the blood flow faster. The Norwegian woman watched him as he emptied out the weapon, letting the magazine drop to the ground. What was he planning? It frusterated her when he mentioned how she'd be stuck at his side through this whole thing. It made her chance of getting away that much more harder it seemed, Juron wasn't sure, but he just seemed... like the only obsticle she really had to get around. It was like... he was going out of his way to make sure she stayed around. Like he wanted her to stay as their captive... hadn't she heard earlier a few complaints from the other men, wondering why he even bothered? Instead of just shooting her? Juron couldn't remember if he had responded to their questions or not. She just remembered that stupid emotionless grin plastered on his face as she struggled. What a frusterating man he was.
Before she realized what was happening, she found the cold weapon in her hand, empty and useless. Frowning, her eyes moved to the duct tape that he had picked up and was going to use to keep the weapon in her hand. Damnit, that wasn't going to work out well at all. Unless she managed to run around with it hid behind her back the whole time, someone from her side was going to see it, mistake her for an enemy and shoot her. Juron really didn't feel like being shot again.
The man got one thing right though, she did want to pull back a few bullets right into that stupid face of his, that stupid grin, his georgous eyes... a sigh of frusteration left her lips, her head shaking ever so slightly at her last thought. She'd plug a few through those too if given the chance. Those emotionless depths that just stared. Stared and saw everything, but didn't feel anything.
Juron looked back down at the empty metal sitting cooly in her fingers. It was empty... but she could still use it. It could still hurt him. She didn't want him to tape it to her hand, she didn't even want to be in this situation. Obviously her plan wasn't going to work as well as she had thought if he's going to be around. He'd probably tape her mouth shut too if given the chance. Her head snapped up at the returning man who had been panicking moments before. What was he talking about? She didn't hear anything... Did Mikhail? He seemed to act as either he didn't, or didn't care. Then again, he probably only cared about keeping himself alive.
A thought suddenly crossed her mind and she glanced back at Mikhail who stood there waiting for her to hold her hand out to the waiting restraint. She had to act fast, make it seem not so.. obvious what she was going to do. It would only work once, if it worked and she'd have to run as fast as she could if she planned to escape him. Taking a step forward, doing her best to keep her hand steady she looked up at Mikhail, raising her hand up a bit as if letting him wrap the tape around her hand and smiled, unable to help herself. Almost too fast, she had continued to raise the weapon and smacked him once right on the nose, then whipped it across to smack him in the temple. Before dropping the gun and running, hardly a second between the first step and the second. She managed to skid around Gregor who stood there as dumb as ever and made it into the open, turning left without thinking hoping she could get away.

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #8 on: November 25, 2008, 06:22:21 PM »
20:26/Norwegian-Soviet Union Border/Lt. Mikhail Kirechenko
Mikhail had the tape ready to wrap around her fingers and skin of her hands, to glue them against the coldness they were wrapped between.  What he didn

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #9 on: November 26, 2008, 05:09:32 PM »
She hadn't known this way very well, but so far it seemed to do her some good. Juron didn't even know if she was being followed or not. All she knew, was that she had to hide, get away and hope he never found, or caught up with her. Juron wasn't thinking straight. She kept taking the most obvious routes trying to escape, find her way into the open street far enough away that nobody enemy would see her, and she could scream for help. There was a strong, aching throb in her arm each time she ran, each time she took a breath. It was driving her insane how horrible it felt. If Mikhail caught her, he'd probably enjoy plucking away more bullets into her system before it killed her. Taking his time with each bullet.
Juron's breathing was starting to come out laboured, she used to run all the time, great distances at that, but she had never run so long, so fast and so hard with fear ebbed into her brain causing the adrenaline to pump just that much faster through her system to the point it was tiring her out. Her feet were beginning to feel heavy, her vision blurring ever so slightly with each turn. Markings were blurring by her as the Norwegian woman ran, her feet sliding around in the boots that she wore. She had almost slipped out of them a few times, causing Juron to almost tumble to the floor. It was hard to believe her legs hadn't given out on her yet. Her lungs were working now like those of a thirty years old smoking but she kept running. If she was caught, or seen Juron hoped they'd be stupid enough to shoot her.
Her hair was a mess of tangles and sweat. Pushing her good hand through it as she ran, it got caught and she had to pause to get her hand free so she wouldn't pull her hair out trying to just yank the limb free. A few seconds ago she could have sworn she heard footsteps behind her, heavy and fast. But not it was all silent. They had dissapeared after her last turn. The buildings were still towering above her on all sides and Juron found herself wondering exactly where she was.
To her right, she saw what appeared to be an opening out onto a street, it was lit by streetlamps that hadn't been destroyed and she almost felt like it would be her only safe choice. Taking it in a dead run, Juron ran for the mouth of the alley, a hardly able to leap past her lips when her body felt arms wrap around her tightly, causing her to tumble to the dirt floor in a mass of limbs and curses.
He had found her, damnit! He had somehow known where she was going and cut her off. That must have had been him behind her the whole time. She hadn't been thinking and ended up in the end running smack into him, into the man's stupid arms. What a romantic moment. A woman in distress running into the arms of a strong, handsome soldier. One of the opposite side too. Isn't that how all romance novels were? Too bad this was reality and sooner or later she was going to die from the hands of this bastard.
She let out a scream and struggled against Mikhail's tight hold on her small frame, the pressure he added to her wounded arm making tears spring back into her eyes. Her nose was filled with the mixed scent of blood and sweat. She guessed it was mainly from her, unable to tell exactly if she had even caused his face any damage from the guns blows. He flipped her over, scrambling to get the upper hand and managed to pin her down, her form still struggling under him. Before Juron could catch a breath, a new pain exploded in her face. He had hit her! A scream ripped out of her throat from the force he had used, Juron struggled to shield her face, sobs racking through her chest as he continued to hit her. It felt like he was going to break the bone structure of her skull.
It felt like he had hit her more than four times, her cracked lips stung from the sweat and blood that slipped along their edge, her tongue slowly snaking out to lick the substance away. She almost missed his words, the blood was pounding so hard in her ears it was hard to hear anything besides that, and the empty sobs that caused her chest to heave. His words finally sunk in, registered into her brain and it was like all time had stopped and she starred up at him, complete horror written on her face, in her eyes. Not fear, no, she was past that. Just horror. He wouldn't.... he didn't seem like the type of man who would... surely he could have any woman he wanted, and wouldn't have to bring himself down to.. force himself upon a woman? Maybe he would... just to hurt her even more. Make her get in line and do as he said, listen to his orders.
Juron found it hard to swallow as she starred up into his eyes, those hard empty depths that sent chills through her spine. God please no... not like this.

Out of all the things she'd ever gone through in life, Juron almost could agree she'd never been through something so... horrific so... terrifyingly exciting. The whole time they'd run around during the attack, Mikhail dragging her along behind him, putting her into situations only he was fast enough, smart enough to get her out of just in the nick of time to save her skin, make her almost in debt to the Russian for what he did. It didn't matter, to her it was him making up for taking her on as his personal prisoner it seemed.
The whole time she had been stuck with him at his side, being dragged by her wounded arm which he didn't seem to care much about. She had to endure it all silently, and quietly for he had cut off her only form of speaking, and trying to get away from him in the current situation. It almost made Juron feel like a doll. A puppet and he was controlling the strings. Well, at least her mind was her own. He couldn't stop that. Stop the hatered that was starting to rise even more so with each shot he took at one of her countries men.
And now, here they were hiding underground. The two of them. Her, in the center of the room still gagged, and motionless as she sat in teh chair watching him, that damn arm of hers still hurting. Juron couldn't help but scoff at his words. It was his fault they had been shooting at her, his fault they thought her to be enemy. His fault she was even in this stupid mess. And he expected a thank you? He protected her because he had some twisted idea in mind, no doubt. Probably waiting until she gave in and begged him to be let go, or begged him to kill her. That way he could just drag out this torturement even more. Well, she wouldn't give it to him. Juron still had her pride. She'd sit through it all. Maybe even give him a smile every so often to toy with him. Why should he have all the fun?
She brought her feet in under the chair as he came closer to her, Juron couldn't help but feel a little... unsure about him now each time he came close to her. He had threatened to rape her earlier... left her lying there as if he were considering it, before hauling her to her feet and dragging her off. She had thought he was taking her to a more private... area to proceed, but was both surprised and relieved when he just continued on to finish 'gearing her up'. But, now she wasn't so sure if he'd keep to not bothering... it could still be on his mind.
Juron almost wanted to kick the man when he said she could cry. Of course he'd want her to cry. See those tears falling from her eyes, knowing he had caused it to happen. Oh, she wished she could do something to get him back... maybe humiliate him. Do something to hit his ego. She flinched when he pulled away the lower half of balaclava, wincing from the pull of the tape. Slowly, she stuck her tongue out, letting the cloth roll out onto his hand and pulled back, away from him, putting her back against the rest of the chair instead of sitting so up and straight. "I don't owe you no thank you.... Mikhail." Juron said slowly, carefully trying out the name on her lips, letting it play on her tongue before saying it. It was the first time she'd used it... and decided she didn't like it. Made things feel too... intimiate between them.

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #10 on: November 26, 2008, 07:15:29 PM »
22:39/Norwegian-Soviet Union Border/Tomas Strand
He

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #11 on: November 27, 2008, 04:43:30 PM »
Her eyes rolled at the guesses he made about her name. He was hardly close at all. Did she honestly look like a Lise to him? Or a Kristine? Well... Kristine did seem to fit her. But no, he wasn't close and she refused to let on. Juron'd make him guess until his tongue fell off, or he got bored and shot her. She'd die a nameless one on this side of the line maybe even within an unmarked grave her body will lie, the worms and bugs eatting at her rotting flesh. The Norwegian woman shuddered to think about it. Wasn't really the way she wanted to go, but if it was how it was going to be, so be it.
Juron sat perfectly still as Mikhail moved behind her, taking off the pieces that hid her face. It felt weird, being able to actually breathe again without having something over her face, letting the air through more easily. The woman flinched though when his hands touched her shoulders, beginning to massage them and get out all the soreness that had built up over the past while. Mikhail had a strong, firm grip even then on her like she would run away, even though she really had no option. Juron couldn't help but bitterly admitt though, it did feel extrodanarily good what he was doing. Too bad it was him and not someone else. Who else? She wasn't completely sure. Just, too bad it wasn't someone other than the man who was hell bent on making her suffer it seemed. Her eyes began to drift closed, the comfort and relief that he was providing began to turn Juron's body against her, relaxing back against the chair and into his horribly nice touch.
Was it just her? Or had she just sighed... possibly loud enough for the Russian man to hear? God she hoped not... maybe she just imagined it happening. Before she could think too deeply into it though there was a loud sound from outside, and she opened her eyes, looking up to where the building was above ground. Mikhails hands had stilled on her shoulders, and she was almost glad for the interuption between him, and what he was doing. What had it been? It sounded as if it was something big that had been fired at them. She wasn't completley known to the weapons and machines used on the battlefield yet, but Juron had a feeling it definatly wasn't something they wanted fired at them. Them... odd how after only a little bit of time she felt like she was part of them. Even if she was just a prisoner, a hostage. Extra luggage Mikhail forced himself to have.
Her head turned hearing footsteps coming down the stairs. Geeze these Russians were fast at reporting to- oh,it was just Gregor. The man who had come off to Juron as a scardey cat. Of course he'd be the first one down here to tell things to Mikhail. It seemed as if Mikhail was the only muscle this place had right now. She listened to the quick words, the situation as it was explained between the two russians, though she was having trouble to understand much of it. Her Russian wasn't the greatest. Though, she made out the jist of it, and her suspicions were told to be correct by the way they both looked at her and Gregor shook his head. Yes, she thought, her eyes watching both men with a narrow expression. Don't make me go out there and do whatever it is you're thinking... Of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. Mikhail would want her to do it anyways. She wasn't important. It was probably something small he couldn't waste his own men on... When his words were back in Norwegian Juron sighed, and looked down at her feet, her shoulders slumping forward a bit.
"I don't really have a choice, do I."

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #12 on: November 27, 2008, 06:38:22 PM »
22:44/Norwegian-Soviet Union Border/Lt. Mikhail Kirechenko

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #13 on: November 27, 2008, 08:01:57 PM »
Juron listened to each word that left Mikhails lips. Of course she had to do this. Of course they nominated her. She was the least important here, as she had already known. It irritated her the way he spoke to her though... like she did matter. Juron knew, that if she didn't get shot the first run, and ended up being brought down by a bullet the second time, but managed to bring the stupid gun closer THEN he'd send one of his own men out to retrieve it, leaving her there to die. Again, the thought of an unmarked grave came to her mind and she shook it away. Obviously she'd have no way out of this, or around this. Her struggles were limp and feetle despite earlier. There was no... energy put into them. Juron just felt like it was something she had to do. Couldn't completely show him she'd given into the decision he had made for her.
She hated the fact that her vision was so restricted with the mask back on. It really made it hard to see and almost put a new feel of panic into her belly knowing it could be the death of her. Juron knew her objective though, to get to a truck, pick up the obviously going to be heavy weapon with her bad arm and run back. Sounded like it was going to be one hell of a good time. Did he even remember that she had a bad arm? That he had hit her? Probably not; and if he did, didn't care.
The next few sentences made Juron believe for a very quick instant she had just dropped herself into a different reality. He -wanted- her back in one piece? He actually cared? Or was Mikhail just planning on keeping up with this little game a bit longer, and didn't want her to ruin his fun for him too quickly. It seemed to be the logical explenation here. Didn't it? Surely there was nothing else. He couldn't possibly -want- her to live and then just... let her go could he? No, there was no way that was what was going through the Russians mind. The piece of cloth almost went down her throat at the last part of his little speech. One of the team? No, she wasn't. There wasn't any possible way in hell. She wasn't on the Russians side. There was absolutely no way. No -fuckin- way. And she didn't like to think such vulgar words so expressionly. But it seemed to be the only word that fit at the moment. With him just saying such a stupid thing, would probably make her absentmindedly find herself thinking like one of these bastards, and being like one of them. But she wasn't! Juron Bratthen was no Russian soldier. She was a twenty-six year old Norwegian woman, a journalist of her city's magazine Life and long-term girlfriend to Tomas Strand who was somewhere on the other side. Hopefully still alive. She was no Russian. Never.
A slender brow rose at the sudden outburst from Gregor. Wow, he actually had balls in him it seemed. Especially if he was speaking like that to Mikhail Kirechenko. Juron couldn't help but smile at the moment with that full name going through her head. She knew his full name, his position and his rank and yet he knew nothing about her. Only that she was a Norway daughter. How funny the prisoner knew more than the captor. At least, Gregor had some sense when he spoke out of turn. He voiced everything she had thought already, only more... vulgar and more stupid. She wouldn't have gone so far as to add in what the others thought; ok maybe she would have. But for some reason, Juron felt like she would have had more of a chance at getting away with what Gregor said, than this man was. It was eery, how it seemed to be the truth.
Mikhails sudden change in... personality freaked the brunette out quite a bit. He seemed almost... deadly now as he spoke to Gregor, his face shielded by that long thick hair of his. It almost gave him a rather... haunting look, with how slow his words were coming out. Slow enough for her to understand. Gregor's words had once again been fast and hard to follow, but she reconized most of the words to once again know what he was saying. His voice also expressed more than what he said. Was Mikhail going to actually shoot him? Her eyes stayed on the gun as it was pointed at the other man who had fallen silent with a smell of fear now filling the air. Oh she hoped so. It was better than her being shot, that was for sure. Maybe he'd piss his pants... that would be funny to. But, it didn't seem like today was going to be her lucky day at all.

Gregor had untied her from her chair before running away like the scared little puppy he was with his tail tucked between her legs. Her hands were cuffed to her waist area which didn't give her very much area to work with when carrying something, or to break her fall if it came to it. Hopefully though, it wouldn't. Her and Mikhail were crouched down, trying to avoid the fire of bullets that was aimed at them. Oh how she hated the fact that her own people were trying to kill her, and didn't even know it.
Juron tried to keep her breathe even as she crouched in her little spot, her body starting to gain a slow tremble as what she was about to do sunk in. She could get shot out there. No, she WAS going to get shot. It wasn't avoidable. She was going to get shot, and she was going to die. And it was going to be all Mikhails fault. Her brown gaze slowly moved towards the man crouched beside her, waiting to give her the go ahead. She hoped he ended up dying before the war was over. He'd never rest unknowing if his stupid country had won or not. That would give her ghost some satisfaction at least. The bullet that struck just above his head didn't seem to affect him none, but it made her wince and almost miss his single word 'Go'.
Lurching to her feet, Juron ran, trying to keep as low as she could as she made her way towards the truck. It hadn't been hard to spot and she did see the AT lying on the ground abandoned at the vehicles wheels. Bullets passed by her, hitting the ground just cm's from her but luckily, none had hit her so far. She made sure not to run in a straight go, letting her body make a zig-zag as she ran hoping that it would somehow protect her. God, it seemed like it was taking forever to get to the truck, it hadn't seemed so far from where she was crouching but now, running to it it seemed like it was just getting farther and farther, taunting her.
She was going to get shot.
Finally, Juron's feet came to it and a bullet flew over her head just as she dropped to her knees and scrammbled forward to pick the weapon she came to retrieve. It was heavy in her hands, awfully heavy but she didn't let it stop her. Struggling to stand and move forward with it, the run back was much, much slower as she continued to fall to her knees, the AT gun threatening to fall from her hands as the weight became too much to bear on her injury. She had to keep going though, Juron had to get back to them and get out of the fire.
Finally, Mikhail's body came closer as he watched her, waited for her to get back to him with that damned scrap of metal he so badly wanted. When she was almost there, a voice rang out over the gunfire, the bullets hitting metal and dirt. It was Tomas. She had heard his voice. He was so close... and he was alive. Stupidly turning, she saw him visibly on the other side like he was the only man there holding... holding a rifle in his hands and aiming it right at her.
Something happened, but she wasn't sure what it was. First, there was the pain that came from her body, the stinging, throat searing pain and then the ground coming up to her face, the AT gun rolling from her hands to rest a few feet from her. What had happened? Everything suddenly seemed so distant as she lay there. It was hard to breathe, painful even. Blackness was beginning to creep into her vision.
Before the blackness took her under, the realization finally hit her.
Tomas Strand, the man she loved...
Had shot her.

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #14 on: November 28, 2008, 02:19:55 PM »
23:00/Norwegian-Soviet Union Border/Lt. Mikhail Kirechenko
Mikhail should have took shelter, at least armed himself and fired back.  Yet from the moment she stepped away from him and made her dangerous way across the path to the weapon, he stared and watched, oblivious to anything around him.  Grenades, bullets, the roaring growl of artillery and explosive tank shells.  He was fixated on her, the woman who was his prisoner.  Under all that fire, she still kept moving, not stopping for long and playing it brave across the battlefield.  Mikhail thought that parts of the path were mined, but maybe that was just his imagination playing up again.  None of them had shot up in to the sky on their way to the building, so perhaps he was being paranoid.

Once she actually reached the gun, he was surprised.  Amazed, more like.  With her hands tied in the way they were, she was doing well in picking it up and holding it.  Yet there was a feeling inside, like he knew she would do it, almost as if he was
« Last Edit: November 29, 2008, 05:53:34 PM by Stanmore »

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #15 on: November 29, 2008, 05:26:35 PM »
When they got there, all hell had broken loose on the battlefield before them. Someone had called in help, said things weren't going very well and that Mikhail had 'lost it'. Anya hadn't been sure of exactly what that ment at the time, but now as she stood there, looking down through her always worn gas mask at her boyfriend who lay flat on his stumach next to what appeared to be a bleeding corpse of a fellow soldier. A soldier who's body seemed too small for the clothing they wore... rather short too.
Anya wasn't exactly clear on why the two of them were out in the middle of what was moments before, the range for god knows how many bullets and other deadly things flying across the way to the soldiers on either side, aiming to make one drop. Obviously, whoever lay dead, or dying on the ground beside her Lieutenant was the reason Mikhail was out there. He wasn't stupid enough to go out in the middle of a battle... not even to check on a fallen comrade. He would have waited until the end, then gone out to see if he was still alive and moving. Though... from the look of the pool of blood the body was in... Anya highly doubted it.
She looked around Mikhail for an explenation to why he was out here and her eyes fell on the AT that rested close by to him. That must have been it, she decided. He came out for the gun. But.... why would he have moved out for it instead of sending someone unimportant? Though nobody could see it, Anya Gregovitch frowned under that mask of hers and crouched down beside her Lieutenant's head, turning back to see the other men dealing with the few wounded and killed they had recieved.
" Trying to kill yourself Lieutenant?" The words came out forced when she spoke. She hated the fact she had to call him by his rank... how she basically had to call everyone higher than her by their rank... she really needed to stop getting herself so far down demoted. It was really starting to piss her off. "I think a lot of these boys would have ended up running around like headless chicken's if you had... you alright?"

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #16 on: November 29, 2008, 05:53:48 PM »
23:09/Norwegian-Soviet Union Border/Lt. Mikhail Kirechenko
Mikhail didn

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #17 on: November 30, 2008, 09:45:34 PM »
It almost frusterated her the way he ignored her question. Just got to his feet, turned to the fallen soldier and ordered for someone to check him over. She was still a bit confused over why on earth he would have come out here on his own to retrieve the AT. It really didn't add up. There was no real answer to her Green eyes as to why the Russian risked his neck. Anyone else could have done it so why...
She watched as the medics ran over and started to rip away the uniform on the soldier their fingers fast in their work as they worked to save his life. Removing the mask she gasped not only from what met her eyes, but from what Mikhail had said. It was a she... a woman. Why, she didn't even look very Russian at all. Anya wasn't even sure if she'd ever seen the girl before this moment. Prehaps she just overlooked her. It was possible. The Russian woman frowned, her eyes moving down to look at the AT where it still lay. Mikhail sent a woman out to get the AT gun? It made sense now why he came out to get it on his own... probably felt foolish for sending her. Figured he had to do it for it to be brought back. Yes... it made perfect sense now. Though.. she didn't really like how he kept avoiding to look down at the woman as she lay there, the medics struggling to keep her alive, to make her stable enough for them to pick her up and take her inside.
Anya moved with Mikhail when his hand grasped her upper arm and tugged her along with him. She stayed silent as he scolded her... he did that a lot. Treated her like a child. It was one of the many things that pissed her off. One of the many things that always caused her to lash out and again.. get demoted. Could she really get any farther down teh rank? Yes... she probably could. He would probably even make up a rank just to demote her. He could be a jerk like that Mikhail could... her eyes slid over the prisoners as they passed, her boots and his boots the only sound for the longest time. Anya's green irises slid over her lovers strong structured face deep in thought. He was a handsome man. Always had been even from their younger years back in their small village. They had met, the two of them two years after she had been donned with the rule to wear a mask and always cover her face. He had been so nice... friendly and had laughed a lot back then. They had taken to each other quite fast actually. Despite her anger problem that Anya posessed Mikhail had chosen her out of the whole village. It had made her so happy the day she found out... it was only time now... after the war he promised that they would be wed and she'd be able to show him her face for the first time... be able to kiss him and look at him clearly without the glass of her eyeholes in the way.
It was a day she hoped would come soon.
Anya didn't mind the fact that she had to keep her face hidden from him. It was the way of their -people- and it was something she honoured and respected. It showed the commitment between two people. To her, it ment more than what some religions would consider -saving yourself- until the wedding night. She was in a way saving herself... but not in the ways other cultures did. Oh no, they were far past that area. The only thing she had left... that she didn't share with this man beside her was her face.
She spent many days when she could be alone just starring at herself in the mirror, imagining the surprise Mikhail would feel when he saw the beauty of her face. How smooth her skin was, how strong her nose appeared and how full her lips here.
Anya grinned at the thought and was glad Mikhail couldn't see it. He was probably expecting her to feel bad for running around without him knowing where she was. Not like it mattered, she was still alive anyways. Though... she couldn't help but wonder who the girl was. Now that she thought about she really had never seen her before...
Where had she come from?
She watched as he reached into the truck and started taking ammo out, and a jacket for both of them. Accepting it, she shook her head, slipping her arms into the holes at the same time he did. "Of course not Mikhail. If I had, don't you think you would have heard about it?"
Who was the girl?
Anya couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy. She wasn't sure why. Maybe it was how he kept avoiding to look down at her. Almost as if he felt at fault for her being shot? Surely not. Mikhail wouldn't care... he wouldn't care unless it had been her... right?
She followed him into the truck, for once just content to lie at his side, her hand over his chest as he slept. Settling down beside him, she rested her head under her arm and turned on her side to look at Mikhail. Anya had to ask... he hated it when she asked him questions but she had to... curiousity killed the cat you know...
And satisfaction brought it back....
"Mikhail...? Who's the girl that had been shot?"

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Re: Kystlinje [Mature]
« Reply #18 on: February 27, 2009, 06:02:24 AM »
Mikhail looked at her and hopped on to his horse, and with his last words, "Zoe Burnett is an idiot," journeyed in to the horizon for the last time.

 

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