Book Started - 3rd March 2021 (03/03/2021) 11:48
Book Finished - Ongoing
-L.S
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⁌There's a revolution coming~ The score, Revolution ⁍
20:09
Thursday, 9th November 1978
Eastern Russia: Underground Base- Code Number 84002
Unknown POV
A deafening 'crash' echoed around the metal room. Simultaneously, two large, dirtied doors fell in on themselves, breaking free of the hinge's grasp. A confident-looking face appeared, tightly holding a pistol in its hands. The male strutted forward and into the safety of the well-lit room, slightly stumbling while reaching out his grimy hand for one of the many steel cupboards.
Incomprehensible profanity was spat at the poor inanimate object. Finally gathering himself, the man leaned on a wall and pushed himself forward once again. The familiar sound of gunshots seemed to have reached his ears as he tugged a bent-in drawer open. It held many different files from the letters W to Y.
"Дерьмо." he breathed heavily, "Войны нет. Нет, нет, нет-да!"
He flicked through each file one at a time and chanted the same word over and over again before finally pulling out a group of specific paperwork. Listening closely to the shouts and gunshots coming from outside of the room, he finally decided to take the left turn. After quickly stuffing the seeming-useless file into his bag, he made a break for the door. Or well, the doorway.
It almost seemed like slow motion. Or it could have just been how weary and emotionally drained he felt. But either way, he was still determined to get away with the file and himself intact.
Bodies lay limply on the ground in front of him, but this was no time to pay respects, he knew that much. He also knew that most of these bodies had been taken away from their families, whether that was their parents or child, husband or wife. And, now, all that was left was a filthy, bloody, and mangled body on the floor.
He shook his head, clearing the thoughts almost immediately.
All that mattered now was this piece of paper and him delivering it.
He moved his head towards the front of him again, "Привет, начальник. Как твои дела?" He smirked. One single man stood in his way. He wore a black dres' suit and tie. His gaze never wavering. He stayed silent.
As he studied the man blocking him, he came up with a smart remark, "Кто умер?"
"ты сделал."
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Dark, very dark.
He would have loved to admire the stars that shone so brightly in the sky. Really he would. But he currently had a stab wound in his thigh, so he didn't really have time. Collapsing into the ankle-high snow, he puts pressure on the wound.
The sound of a helicopter alarmed him. Although he couldn't do much. Only feeling a soft touch as he was lifted into safety.
⁌ I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me~ Taylor Swift, New Romantics ⁍
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(513 words)
Chapter Started - 3rd March 2021 (03/03/2021) 11:48
Chapter Ended - 3rd March 2021 (03/03/2021) 14:17
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The File
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