From the Story Arc: Khrushchev's Fate

Previous Story in the Arc: The Awakening by Khrushchev (Friday, September 10, 2004)

Next Story in the Arc: In The Lab by Khrushchev (Tuesday, September 14, 2004)

(posted Monday, September 13, 2004)



Khrushchev made his way to the back of head quarters.  It was a dark, grungy place that looked like it had not seen the light of day.  Leaves and the littering of paper blew across the ground.  A few dead trees still stood in place along the back wall, their dried branches crackled in the wind.  It was a place filled with ghosts, and the nightmares of the lives he had taken.  Whispers of the dead could be heard in the alley, howls of the wind intertwined with faint screams of pain echoed off the building walls.


“This used to be such a nice place” he thought, referring to the time years ago when it was maintained, when the trees had leaves and flowers grew in boxes next to park benches, when it was green and full of life and not void of color, but alas like him this place had become neglected and forgotten.  Perhaps the most disturbing was the blood which had dried, splattered along the wall, running down in streaks to the cement floor, staining the ground a black color.  The death wall, a term it had taken onto its own had become its legacy.  The Executioner, a name he had been reluctantly given after most recently, being sent here not more the a few weeks ago to execute one of his own.  Even though it was never carried out he still did not know the fate of his Commissar Red Saviour.


A brief shower passed as he sat on an old bench, the wood creaked and cracked, placing his head between his hands he looked at the puddle below, when the wind slowed, through the rippling water he could see his disfigurement.


A heavy and heart felt sigh came across his breath “Look at me; I am grotesque, not meant for this world.  This face can never be seen, I must hide this face from everyone, and I am an error of nature, a freak”


Although not in any danger he cloaked himself to hide his shame and made his way back to the medical facility.


“Hey Khrush, you back here?” Soviet Fire made his way back to the alley way in attempt to let him know what they planned to do.


“MOVE!” shouting into the air with angered rage.  He pushed Fire aside throwing him to the wall.  Soviet Fire smashed into the wall dropping all of the paperwork he was carrying and slowly slid down to the ground.


“Ohh God my back…... that’s what I get for helping” grimacing in pain he slowly got up, grabbing his lower back.


“Damn that hurts, wait….what the, oh great a hole, you put a hole in my new suit, thanks a lot….ya big dummy”.  The wind slowly picked up and began blowing the paper all over the yard.


“Great, now I have to chase paper” he began to pick up what he could stopping for a brief moment.


“Forget it, I’m going in and lying down, it will just blend in with the rest of the crap back here” each step hurt as he and his bruised back went around the other side of the building he thought it would be best to avoid, getting thrown into another wall.


He came around the corner only to see one of the most stunning sights, a woman with long black hair tied back and an extra short skirt.


“Well hello there….hmm maybe this day is going be better than it had been” he thought this to himself as he slowly tip toed his way behind the stunning women.


“Hey baby what’s say you and I go inside for a few…” while speaking he smacked the curvaceous women on the ass which caused her to abruptly turn around.




“Comrade Blade I am…uhh I didn’t know…it’s just…” his hand instinctively went up to his eye which was now covered with a metal plate for it was Blade which gave him his last wound when he attempted to give her mouth to mouth while she was sleeping.


“I am going to give you a matching set” she reached around and pulled out her sword.  The metal sound of it being pulled out sent a shiver down his spine.


“Wait…just hold on, it was a case of mistaken identity I just thought you were…., look I’ll just go know and we can forget this happened….”


Soviet Fire quickly placed his hands down dropping what paper work he was carrying to the ground and teleported out.


To be continued.