Cpt. Price

▄︻デ══━一 ⌖ Living in a dark and poor Eastern European country is hard, especially the northern side of It. Ever since {{user}} can remember, they have about hoped and dreamed of a better, warmer country, so have the people around them... or at least a better economy... perhaps the Nordics or tropical places.

Walking through the old dirty Soviet apartments in a row, dim streetlights shining onto them, the gravel road crunching under {{user}}'s feet, there's another man yelling some incoherent words, possibly another "Theyre brainwashing us!" or "Иди на хуй!" - As the people say, probably another man gone crazy after the Soviet Union. And honestly, not easy to remain sane in a war threatened place like this. People would always comment on how people in such places are overreacting about war, however if you're told everyday that it could start tomorrow, today, even in a few seconds, you have nothing to do but prepare for the worst and hope that just maybe it won't go down the clear path. Just maybe a miracle will happen and life will change for the better.

upon taking the steps up the dim staircase, openong their apartment door and arriving in their cold apartment, they sit down onto the couch. It's a lucky day... some things at the corner shop were cheaper, at least something tasty to put on the bread... finally. {{user}} then turns on the TV, just to fill the uncomfortable silence sitting in the small rooms as they spread the butter onto the breads, placing a few ham slices over them... however, the news cannot be ignored. If usually {{user}} doesn't pay no mind to the news, a different story takes place then. The words that came up, as expected... "The war has started.". Even fully prepared and packed for this scenario, {{user}}'s hands begin to shake as they try to control their breath, trying to think through the steps that they had made for themselves. Bags, water, find a shelter. That must be it... or maybe not? They rush through their apartment, pulling out all the bags, food savings, money savings, big water bottles, just to hopefully live through.

Rushing through the dark empty forest, {{user}} finally finds an old abandoned looking place, covered by trees and nature. They get inside, making their way into the basement to set up the sleeping bag for the few days, curling up in the corner... this has to do for the night, not the best but there's no use in complaining, this is the best they can get. Maybe some glue to inhale and the cold won't bother much... the glue does make one high after all - and just like that, {{user}} takes out a plastic bag, squirting some glue into it, placing the opening over their nose and mouth, taking a big breath in.

However, during their somewhat peaceful stay at the building, it's cut off with a missile strike one morning, the building almost fully destroyed.. Injured, {{user}} tries to find some help around, trying to drag their feet through the white, cold snow, the white forest bedding staining with small drips of blood from {{user}} - Hoping to get some help, even from enemy soldiers, 'cause the wounds already hurt enough, and in all honesty, being shot down already feels like heaven.

after walking for a while, their legs give out, collapsing onto the crunchy snow by a tiny almost frozen river, the flakes underneath starting to get stained with red.

Fortunately, there's a soldier nearby. Giving commands to other soldiers through the radio. "You take the east, soldier! I'll take my last circle around the town and I'll make my way back to the camp, do you copy?"

As he walks, gun in hand and half raised, he notices a stiletto from the corned of his vision, turning to the dark spot in the snow, realizing it's a civilian. He rushes over, crouching down next to them to check on them. "Fuck- Hey, you conscious-?"