Steel Soviet Union

There was only boundless darkness lingering around him as far as he could see. The person trapped in the darkness had no idea why he was in such a place. This cold darkness made him feel a considerable degree of fear.

"Where? Where am I!? What the hell is this place?"

The person trapped in the darkness wanted to say something, but he found that his mouth was blocked by something unknown, and he could no longer make any sound other than the dull pig-like snort. Other voices.

"Damn it! What happened to me? I have to find a way out of here!"

The man tried to raise his hands, which is one of the instinctive reactions of humans.

But just when he raised his hands to make specific movements, a strong sense of restraint came from his wrists. The man who was strangled to the point of pain realized that he had been tied up. stand up.

"Oh my god, what is going on? What is my state now? Who can tell me!?"

The loud cry in his heart could not be converted into actual sounds. The man who became more and more uneasy and panic began to try to twist his body, trying to break free from the trapped darkness.

Unfortunately, the next feeling that came over my body was not only that my hands were tied, but also that my ankles were tied with something like a torture instrument or an iron chain. It was heavy, cold, and bound everything I had. Movement immobilizes it. ɱ

"I have to leave, I have to leave! What the hell is going on?!"

The pain that was being strangled could not stop the body from twisting violently.

The man, whose movements were getting wider and wider, did not wait for the miracle of the chain snapping with a crisp sound, but instead waited for an unexpected heavy gun butt and severe pain on his face.

"Be honest! Damn German, are you still thinking about escaping when death is imminent?"

Death is imminent? Escape?

What is this?

Before he could recover from his confusion, the Russian voice beside him spoke quietly again.

"It's a dog that's dying anyway. Just take off his hood."

"Okay, just so the damn German guy can see how he died."

Before the spiritual world could react, the big hand that had touched his face instantly grabbed it hard, and the boundless dark world was torn to pieces by the dazzling sunlight on the spot.

The biting cold wind howled past him and penetrated deep into his bones. Although the sun hanging high in the sky was dazzling, there was no trace of warmth that could be felt.

The dilapidated streets are full of traces of shelling and bombing, and the collapsed buildings have scattered all kinds of waste bricks and tiles all over the ground, which is enough to trip over. The crowds of onlookers standing in rows on both sides of the street were staring directly at him with eyes that could almost breathe fire.

"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"

"Revenge! We want revenge and let him die!"

"For the sake of leader Stalin, shoot this fascist lackey! Shoot him!"

The shouts one after another echoed in my mind like a demonic sound for a long time. How angry the onlookers chanting slogans were, just from the shouts like a mountain roaring and a tsunami, you can get a glimpse of it.

The man who was being escorted forward by two Red Army soldiers, one on each side, was forcibly holding his arms. He knew clearly that the "Fascist lackeys" shouted by the onlookers were him. Of course, he also knew that these men with tattered clothes and earth-colored faces were all in danger. You can tell by looking at the onlookers, who are malnourished due to long-term hunger, that they are undoubtedly Russians.

The man who had seen the light of day again raised his head and looked around him. This dilapidated and collapsed city, still filled with the smell of corpses and gun smoke, was very familiar to him. It was exactly what kept him awake for many days. Russian city Stalingrad.

boom--

A small stone thrown by an unknown person hit the man's face, and blood immediately dripped down his lower eye socket onto his feet.

The man who had clearly understood what kind of situation he was in now did not dare to speak and just kept walking forward with his head lowered. He did not even dare to take another look at the crowd of onlookers who were shouting one after another, for fear that another stone would happen to hit him. Blood spurted out on his face.

"Raise your heads, Germans, weren't you very proud before? Show your spirit like you did at Mamayev Heights!"

"Oh, quietly, he looks like a three-year-old kid who is about to wet his pants. We don't have diapers for you to change."

"Ha ha ha ha--"

The two Russian soldiers who were holding him up were talking about themselves as a fool and a joke, but the man with blood pouring out of his eyes did not dare to say a word or his attention was not here at all. What he was really thinking about was himself at the moment. Why did it suddenly become like this?

"What happened? Was I captured by the Russians in my sleep? Why didn't anyone come in to save me or notify me? What on earth are these people doing!?"

Along the way, there are questions along the way.

The man who was just thinking about the problem was quickly taken to an empty square, which was also filled with ragged onlookers.

There are no decent landscapes or entertainment facilities in the desolate square. There is only a statue of several little girls holding hands carved out of stone. It was bombed to pieces and covered with smoke. It stands quietly in the square and tells the story of the incident not long ago. Return the roaring gun smoke of war.

"Is this here?"

The man who seemed familiar with the scene in front of him raised his head in surprise and looked around. Soon he saw a row of dead German corpses lying in the corner not far away.

There were soldiers' uniforms and officer's uniforms in the corpses. The bullet holes in the heads were large or small, and some had half of their heads blown off. The blood flowing under the bodies in various strange death postures had already solidified at this moment, and the dried blood was like It's like a dark red miserable oil painting that freezes all the scenes.

"Is this the place where we were shot? The place where the Russians shot our prisoners!?"

The deep shock in the man's heart had not yet come to an end. He waved his right arm and shouted a declaration of revenge to the crowd, which then floated into his ears from the podium not far away.

"Today, we are here to send an evil fascist demon into the hell in their world, which they personally described to intimidate the oppressed and exploited people at the bottom and the working class!"

"Everyone hopes that this devil will die soon. His hands are stained with the blood of the Soviet people and the great Red Army soldiers! Now we convey the personal order of Supreme Leader Comrade Stalin to shoot this fascist devil! For the sake of the innocent Revenge for the dead people, revenge for the fallen Red Army soldiers!”

When the man who was full of shock came to his senses, he had been driven under the wall, standing next to the pile of cold, stiff and smelly corpses, feeling despair, surprise, fear, and something he still didn't understand. Confusion about what was going on covered his face.

"Load the gun, raise the gun, and prepare!"

"Fire!"