Grundolf hastened the pace of the horses, while Zhukov roused the others. It looked like no matter where they went, trouble would follow.
As they neared the town, signs of chaos became even more apparent. They were able to make out the unmoving bodies of the lookouts on the walls, which had still stood strong. Though the walls hadn’t been breached, signs of damage, claw marks in particular, could be seen. They seemed to continue up along the wall, as if their owners had been attempting to scale the it.
Grundolf brought the cart near the gate, which had remained unopened.
“Shit...it’s shut.”
“Any other way in?”
“The north gate on the other end of town might-”
“Stop right there dwarf, Alyona has a better solution for us.”
“Haha, yeah. I’m sure Alyona has been waiting for some action.
“Who ze fuck is zis Alyona, and vhy von’t anyone tell Hans?
“Just turn around cabbage.”
Hans turned back and looked around.
“Vhere is zis Alyona? All I can see is shitty Russian tank.”
“You insult Alyona again, and I’ll break my foot off so far up in your ass, that you’ll end up shitting through your mouth until the day you die!”
“Eh, Alyona is a beautiful person.”
“That’s better.”
Hans, Jack, and Grundolf stood on the sidelines, watching as the Russians climbed back into their tank. After a few moments, the tank roared to life. It’s turret made a clunking noise as it rotated to face the gate, which was made of wood reinforced with metal.
A thunderous explosion caused everyone outside the tank to dive for cover. The gate had exploded into splinters and shrapnel. Grundolf jumped up, ready to run straight into the town, but he was forced to stop moving after people started pouring out of the open gate. Many of them were horrendously injured, some the exploding gate, others had burns and cuts.
“Oh, shit.”
Grundolf immediately went over and attempted to calm the survivors down, but he never had a chance. The svalski were close behind the survivors, tearing into the defenseless crowd. Grundolf was forced to watch helplessly as his people died.
“Get on the ground if you want to live!”
Zhukov’s booming voice surprised many of the survivors, causing them to immediately drop to the ground. A flurry of hot lead was sent into the raging svalski horde. Zhukov grimaced, watching as both man and beast fell, never to rise again. It was a painful decision for him, one he had become used to making.
The surviving svalski screeched and retreated back into the burning city, leaving only a field of blood behind them. Zhukov and his crew exited the tank, and found hundreds of hateful eyes staring at them.
“Xar...stay with me Xar!”
“Don’t...worry, Trefta. Everything will...be alright. Just...take care of the little one…”
“No! Xar!”
“I...I don’t wanna die.”
“Mama? Mama!”
Yakov, who had been manning the machine gun, and Vasily were the most affected by the scene. They stared out at the dead and dying with blank expressions, Vasily clutching the pendant around his neck. Zhukov gritted his teeth after seeing the results of his actions.
“Now all of you get the hell away from the gate, unless you too want to end up dead”
The hateful eyes all focused on Zhukov as they followed his orders. Zhukov turned and walked around to the other side of the tank, hiding out of sight. After confirming that no one else was around, he let his shoulders slump, and reached for his revolver.
He stared at his old companion, one he had been awarded with for his bravery during the first world war. One that he had used to execute men, both friend and foe. How many had died at its...his hands? He couldn’t remember.
Zhukov’s body shook as a memory flowed into his head, one he could never forget. A man was sleeping in bed with his wife, unaware of the trespasser in their room. He was a comrade, a friend, a soldier, a husband, a politician, and a traitor.
The trespasser raised the silenced revolver in his hands, aiming at the man in bed. Zhukov tried to stop the assailant, but he was helpless against the flow of time. The first shot was fired, and a life was taken.
The man’s wife opened her eyes after hearing the sudden disturbance. She stared at the corpse of her husband, not even letting out a whimper as she took hold of his head, tears streaming down her face. A second shot was fired, and a second life was taken.
The assailant doused the room in alcohol and was about to set fire to it, when the crying of a small child stopped him. He walked back over to the bed and threw off the covers, revealing the child underneath. The child wasn’t even a year old.
The trespasser raised the revolver once more, pointing it at the head of the child. The crying stopped and the child opened its eyes. The hand of the intruder shook after seeing the child’s amber eyes. He dropped his revolver, and the memory faded away.
Zhukov looked back at his hands, which were now empty.
“Hey, you alright boss?”
Zhukov looked up and found Sergei standing in front of him.
“Yeah...I’m fine”
“You sure? You look pretty shaken. Also you dropped this.”
Sergei held out the revolver that had slipped out of Zhukov’s hands. He snactched it back and reholstered it.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Anyways, I’m gonna head into the town and look for Igor. I didn’t see him among the crowd.”
“Sounds good, I’ll round up the others and-”
“No, I need you to stay here and keep these civilians safe.”
“What!?”
“Yeah, take Yakov and Vasily with you too.”
“Lieutenant, this is-”
“This is an order, Sergei.”
“...Fine, but don’t go getting yourself killed.”
Zhukov nodded and opened up one of the containers on the side of the tank, taking out the Mosin Nagant, bayonet, and stripper clips within. Then he climbed back into the tank, retrieving his PPSh. He also took three drums of 7.62x25 for the submachine gun, 14 rounds of 7.62x38 for his revolver, and a single drum of 7.62x54r. After leaving the vehicle, Zhukov unloaded the drum of 7.62x54r, using the ammo inside to reload his stripper clips.
Zhukov slung the rifle over his back and took the PPSh into his hands. He turned and started walking towards the gate, but he was stopped by a small dwarf, who was standing in his way.
“What?”
“I don’t agree with what you did back there.”
“I don’t think anyone would.”
“But, I have to say thanks.”
“For what? Killing your people?”
“No...even I know that if you didn’t fire into the crowd, there would have been even more dead than there are now.”
“Sorry…”
“Don’t be. I’ll be needing you to watch my back when we head into town.”
Zhukov raised an eyebrow at the dwarf’s words.
“What? My people are still in there, and I’ll be damned if I just leave ‘em in there to die .”
“Fine, but you aren’t going unarmed.”
Zhukov walked over to Yakov who was still looking dazed, and slapped him.
“Hey Yakov, go get your pansy ass back to the tank. You’re gonna be helping Sergei keep these people safe.”
Yakov nodded his head and started slowly walking back to the tank, which did not please Zhukov. After having his rifle ripped from his hands and taking a kick to the back, Yakov fell to the ground. Zhukov threw the rifle to Grundolf and picked his subordinate up off the ground.
“Now look here you pessimistic son of a bitch. Either you help these people to redeem our actions, or we’ll end up with more dead because of our refusal to act.”
Yakov seemed to snap out of his trance after hearing Zhukov’s words, he shook his head with newfound vigor and ran off to join Sergei. Zhukov then turned to Vasily.
“I don’t think I need to say much to you.”
“Zhukov, will we ever know peace?”
“I don’t know Vasily...I don’t know.”
“I see…”
Vasily too turned and followed after Yakov. Grundolf watched the two walk away, then looked up at Zhukov.
“You’re a good leader.”
“No, I have good men.”
Grundolf shrugged and followed the human into the city. They didn’t notice Hans and Jack nonchalantly following after them. After passing the gate Zhukov dropped the the ground, clutching his head in pain. A feminine voice resounded throughout his thoughts.
{Take your pack and leave human, we hold no grudges against your ilk.}
Zhukov struggled to get himself off the ground, he couldn’t just leave the city. His comrade was still inside. The voice in his head seemed to have been reading his thoughts, as it picked up on this.
{Oh, that human was one of your pack’s? Such a shame, he was a strong warrior.}
“You bitch!”
Zhukov forced himself upright, ignoring the pain in his head.
“You alright human?”
“Yeah...yeah, just a headache. Where’s the best vantage point around here?”
“Hmm, the church’s bell tower should enable you to look over most of the city.”
“Alright, lead the way.”
The town’s streets were devastated. Corpses lied amongst the rubble, their blood spilling into nearby gutters. Burning debris was constantly falling from buildings. Low growls could be heard, and shadows could be seen darting in and out of alleyways.
{This is your last chance human, turn back now and I’ll let you leave with your life.}
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Zhukov ignored the voice and continued following after the dwarf.
{If you wish to die, then so be it.}
The growls became louder, and began coming from all directions. Zhukov looked around, they had been surrounded. The svalski were everywhere, perched upon the rooftops, creeping out the the alleyways, even emerging from the rubble.
“Shit, I hope you know how to use that rifle dwarf.”
“I don’t…”
Zhukov laughed and readied his submachine gun.
“Wait, I’m serious human. How do you use this thing?”
Grundolf’s voice went unheard, muffled by the sounds of gunfire. In close quarters the firepower of the PPSh was unparalleled. Even the svalski, with their tough bodies, were helpless against the storm of bullets. Zhukov emptied the magazine in a matter of seconds, taking the lives of around five of the svaslki in the process. He slammed another drum into his PPSh, watching as the svalski scurried back into the shadows.
Zhukov turned and looked at the dwarf with a big grin plastered on his face. Grundolf was staring in amazement at the fresh corpses. Even the svalski, a troublesome foe, were like nothing but ants before the human’s fearsome weapon.
“Human, teach me your ways.”
Grundolf held up his rifle and stared at Zhukov.
“It’s a simple task, just work the bolt and pull the trigger. When the rifle is empty, just put a new clip in.”
Zhukov slung his submachine gun and brought out his rifle. Then he gave the dwarf a quick rundown on how to wield it.
“Duck Zhukov!”
Zhukov heard a familiar voice ring out as he was teaching the dwarf. He tilted his head off to the side in confusion and felt a breeze of air brush past where his head had been moments prior. Zhukov turned back and found one of the svalski preparing to lash out at him again, they were under attack.
Zhukov quickly slammed a round into the chamber of his rifle and then bayoneted the creature, firing a round in the process. Though the shot caused the svalski to screech in pain, it was still standing.
It picked Zhukov up off the ground using one of its arms, and prepared the other to deliver a blow to the helpless Russian. Before it could, however, another shot rang out and the beast’s hand was torn asunder. Zhukov was dropped to the ground as the beast reeled in pain, turning to escape to the shadows, but it never had a chance. Another shot rang out, this one hitting the svalski directly in the leg.
The creature continued trying to crawl away, but Zhukov had no plans to let it escape. He raised his rifle and fired a round into its head, silencing the creature for good. He turned back and looked at the dwarf.
“Thanks for the help.”
“Wasn’t me…”
The dwarf raised his hands up in innocence, leaving Zhukov confused. If the dwarf hadn’t shot then who had? It didn’t take long for him to find out, as two men were approaching them.
“Try to be more careful next time, Zhukov.”
“Ja, you are lucky that ve vere nearby.”
Zhukov’s expression went blank after seeing the two newcomers. He pretended to ignore them, turning back and continuing down the street.
“Vhat? No thanks for saving your life, bah.”
Grundolf quickly ran to catch up with Zhukov, while the others tailed behind. They soon came out of the city streets and into the plaza. At the center of the plaza, lying underneath a tree, was the battered body of Igor. Zhukov would have immediately run out to help him, but Igor was surrounded by a massive horde of svalski, numbering well into the hundreds.
There was another one there too, someone who stood out in the horde of svalski. She had the physique of a human female and was wearing a white robe, yet something about her seemed...off. The woman was an albino, both her hair and skin as white as snow. She had had the same dreadful red eyes as the svalski too. The nails on her hands weren’t quite nails either, instead much more akin to claws.
She could have been considered beautiful by some standard, yet the sense of pure terror and dread she invoked upon the mind banished such thoughts. There was something more to her too, almost as though the woman had an aura of sorrow surrounding her.
“Is she a friend of yours human?”
“Now zis, zis is a voman vorthy of ze name Alyona. Not zat piece of scrap ze Russians call a tank.
Zhukov dropped to the ground clutching his head again. The voice was speaking to him, much louder this time.
{I offer you life, and you push it away. I wonder why?}
Zhukov felt a searing pain in his head, it was nigh unbearable. Images flashed by, of times long past. Of his his upbringing in a small village on the outskirts of Moscow. Of the Russo-Japanese war, his first war. Where he found brothers, and lost a father. Of the horrors of the first world war. Of his service in the Cheka, the GPU, the OGPU, and finally, the NKVD. Zhukov was forced to remember everything, including the pain. How many of his comrades had he seen die? Too many.
{Oh, you aren’t of this world, what a surprise. Still, it’s strange. Both you and this man here know only war, I can see it in your eyes. But that is where your similarities end. While he embraces it, you deny it. Why?}
“Get the fuck out of my head!”
Zhukov pushed the pain aside, forcing himself back off the ground. He wielded his submachine gun in a blind fury, firing indiscriminately into the horde of svalski. His other companions joined in too, sending a hail of bullets into the crowd.
{No!}
Zhukov reeled as pain was sent through his head once again, he fought through the it and continued firing. Memories flashed through his head as the svalski died, ones that were not his own. They were dark, barely discernible, and so Zhukov ignored them.
The svalski weren’t going to just lie down and die either, they charged valiantly into the storm of bullets. Their efforts wouldn’t have been in vain, if it weren’t for an unexpected guest.
The ground shook and a thunderous roar resounded throughout the streets of Kelturm. Hans let his curiosity get the better of him and he turned back to see a sight for sore eyes.
“On second thought, I like zis Alyona better.”
The Russians’ KV-1s appeared in the plaza, guns blazing. Though the tank only needed a single person to drive, two people were needed to operate the main cannon. Which meant that as Vasily drove, Yakov was assisting Sergei as the loader.
Though Zhukov wanted to curse at his subordinates for disobeying his orders, he was incredibly thankful for their appearance. The tank was making short work of the svalski with its main cannon and coaxial machine gun.
{You!}
The albino seemed to have been enraged by their actions, she darted forward with an inhuman speed. However, the woman ended up running straight into the path of the tank’s 76mm cannon. Her body was thrown through the air by the explosion, like a ragdoll. She managed to land on both legs, but the explosion had taken her right arm.
The woman looked at the carnage that surrounded her and fell to the ground, nearly all of her companions had died in the slaughter. Tears began streaming down her face as she stared in the direction of Zhukov.
{Our people...go unavenged.}
Everyone, both in the town and on the outskirts, collapsed from mental pain. A memory flashed through their heads, of a place somewhere underground. A variety of men, both short and tall, with different skin colors were walking through the tunnels, sending jets of flames shooting from their hands. The targets of their flames were women, like the albino, and small pink creatures who looked like younger versions of the svalski. They burned to death without putting up any resistance. The last thing they caught a glimpse of were the red robes adorned with golden threads or the fire wielding beings.
The images faded after that. After Zhukov and his companions managed to recollect their bearing they looked around, only to find that the woman had disappeared, leaving not even a trail of blood behind.
…..
A hooded figure in a black robe was standing on a slight slope, looking off towards the town of Kelturm. His greenish-yellow eyes shone in the darkness. He watched as a white blob seemed to be moving along the snowy plains, nearly blending in with the background. He reached out his hand, pointing his palm towards the blob, and mummered a few words. The crystal around his neck started to float, humming softly, then he disappeared in a flash of light.
The hooded figure appeared next to the blob, a woman clad in white. Her clothes were bloody and she was missing an arm. She was surprised by the sudden appearance of the black robed one.
“You are!?”
“Yes…”
The hooded one’s raspy voice rang out as he held out his arm once more. He mummered a few more words, causing the crystal around his neck to float again. Then he reached out with a boney hand and grabbed the still bleeding stub that used to be an arm.
The woman tried to pull back, but the blood loss had made her weak. The hooded one didn’t mean to cause harm, however. Instead he used his abilities to stop the bleeding and accelerate the healing of the skin. He couldn’t give her a new arm, so she would have to do with the minor healing he could provide.
After the deed was done, the hooded one released his grip on the woman, and she ran away, disappearing into the snowy tundra. The hooded one looked back to the town of Kelturm. A small breeze blew by, knocking his hood back, and revealing that he was a skeleton. He put his hood back up and started walking.