"Heinz, they're good people. Trust me."
"Kaspar, this is dangerous.."
"How?"
"We're Germans and we're entering Communist Russia. I highly doubt that this can be considered anything 'safe'."It was December 4th, 1950.
Twins.
Two identical faces. One dusked in a lowly grim look, discontent with the frigid cold embracing him over his coat, a hound-ish growl eroding from his deep vocal chords.
The other, however; outstretched a wolfish grin. Not in means of gawking at his brother, but to express his ecstatic personality.They were walking down the busy streets of Moscow. It was freezing, and it was an environment the two men were not used to being in. As everyone knows, Russia's winters were the coldest than any other country. Kaspar only told Heinz very little information about this whole trip, which was worrying him. He wasn't too familiar with Russia, being how he did most of his duty in his native country in the second world war. But now, it was all over. He just hoped that the people Kaspar spoke of wouldn't be too hostile against him.
"Here it is." Kaspar said as he took a stop to a house. Nothing too big, yet nothing too small either. It was a reasonable size that could hold at least five people. He went up to the door, gave a firm knock, and waited until it swung open. A tall, tan, bruiting man stood there and stared at the set of twins with his single blue eye, smiling a bit at Kaspar, then to Heinz. He wasn't too familiar with him, but after Kaspar told him about Heinz, he was happy to greet him. Though..he planned to keep his guard.
"Come in, just don't go bothering Vladlena."
"What is it this time? Drawing? Therapy?"
"She's cooking."
"Ah.." Kaspar turned back to his brother and gestured him to follow inside. Heinz kept quiet and entered, immediately sitting himself down on the couch while Kaspar walked towards the kitchen to stand by the entrance. Just barely, you could see the back of a woman standing by a counter while cutting vegetables and tossing them right into a pot.
"Hello, Kaspar." She said in a low tone. Her accent was awfully thick and gave the impression that she didn't want to be bothered. The Soviet woman usually liked to be left alone while doing her own thing.
"'Ey, I brought Heinz with me. You wanna talk to him—"
Vladlena raised her head up. "The Nazi?" She suddenly interrupted.
"Well...he was one. It's been five years, Vladlena."
"Zip your mouth." Vladlena suddenly snapped at him, her head turned back to look at him while gripping tightly to the kitchen knife in her hand. It wasn't a wise decision to anger her while she had a knife in her hand, so Kaspar just sighed and turned away quietly.
"I told you not to bother her, Kaspar." Boris said with his arms crossed, shaking his head with a small huff.
"I just wanted to say 'Hi'." Kaspar replied, turning back to his twin after. "You don't look like you're feeling good." Heinz was staring blankly at the kitchen entrance, his eyes drooped and his mouth slightly ajar; He was obviously sick. Not only because of the stress of being in another country, but the medication he received from the mental hospital was getting to him. He felt like he needed to take more than his usual dosage just to feel okay. Kaspar didn't pay any mind to it though; he didn't realize how badly it was making him. "Why don't you lay down?"
"I'll be downstairs." Boris said while turning away to open a door and head down the steps.
"Right behind ya. Just rest, okay?" Kaspar said to Heinz, then left right after. Once that door shut, Heinz went into his pocket to pull out a bottle of his medication, poured a few of them out, and swallowed it all down.
"What is that for?" Vladlena called from the kitchen. Her back was pressed against the counter, arms crossed over while she stared him down with her dark sapphire eyes. It was clear to see she didn't like him just from the look on her face.
"It's none of your business." Heinz said while he slipped the container away in his suit pocket.
"Rude." She scoffed and uncrossed her arms to walk over to him while adjusting her bra strap. "Listen here, Kraut, even though you are Kaspar's brother, I still don't want you anywhere near me. Do you understand that?"
Heinz narrowed his eyes at her. "And you're telling me this because..?"
"You're a Nazi is why. Kaspar told me everything—from how you killed your mother, to dedicating your whole life to those Fascist fuckers!"
Heinz looked disinterested and only turned away to lay his body across the cushioned couch. "I was drafted. Do you honestly think that I wanted to be in the military? I hate them as much as you do, and I know very well that they were terrible."
Vladlena grunted and glared down at him as soon as she stopped to stand just five feet away from him. "That's what they all say..you're just like them. They always lie."
"Believe what you will, I'm being honest with you..—What is your name?"
"Vladlena. Why should you care?"
"Because it seems that we're going to be living together for a while. According to Kaspar.." He grumbled the last part. "Whether you like it or not, we have to get along with each other one time or another. And I don't appreciate you referring to me as a Nazi so, could you please stop?" Vladlena rolled her eyes and walked to sit herself down in a chair. Heinz stared at her, shook his head, and turned away to stare at the coffee table.
Things were already growing awkward..with the silence she was giving and from the glare she had. She was like a hawk with him, and watched his every move only because she had nothing else better to do while she waited for her meal to finish cooking. Once Heinz peered his eyes over at her, he sat up, ran his hand through his long, tangly hair, and inhaled. "Why don't you..uh..tell me about yourself?"
"My name's Vladlena Shevardnadze. I do not like you one bit, Four Eyes."
Heinz sighed and shook his head. "Well..it's better than Nazi, that's for sure..is there..anything you like to do?"
"I like to snipe."
"Oh..! You can snipe?"
"I was a sniper in the Red Army." She narrowed her eyes. "I killed many Nazis."
"Is that supposed to be a threat? Because it isn't working, you know."
Vladlena huffed and hunched over while resting her arms on her lap.
"Anything else..?"
"I draw in my free time. Hunt..nothing special."
"Ah..you hunt as well? And draw? Can I see some of your work?"
"No."
Heinz stared at her then looked towards the basement door. Damn his brother for leaving him behind with someone who didn't like him. He was trying his best to have some sort of civil conversation, yet she didn't seem to want to cooperate—It was growing frustrating.
"What are those two doing down there anyway? He didn't tell me anything."
"They're just hanging out." She shrugged.
"Then why can't they come upstairs and stay with us?"
"And why do you have to sit in here?"
"Because I want to?"
"There's your answer." She retorted back with a smug smile. Heinz only grumbled and looked down to his lap in thought. How was he going to get on her good side? "Well..I should be going now." She stood up off the chair and walked towards the front door to grab her coat off the coat rack. But firstly, she took her black ushanka off the top and popped it on, then tugged at the ends to set.
"And where are you going?"
"That's none of your business, Four Eyes."
Heinz stood up and walked to the basement door to open. "I'm going out!"
"No you're not..!" Vladlena said as she was in the middle of buttoning her coat up.
"Yes Vladlena, I am." Heinz said then shut the basement door and walked towards her. The woman stared with daggers before turning away and walked to the door and opened it, only to be whipped with the ice cold Russian winds. Why bother even arguing against him anyway? He wasn't going to listen, and Kaspar previously made a point to her that she needed to spend time with Heinz. Once they walked out of the house, Heinz shut the door behind, and followed after. The longer they walked, the more their figures began to disappear into the whiteness of the falling snow.
YOU ARE READING
Black Snow
Historical FictionIt's the late 1950s, political controversy set alight a new dawn of war, unveiling a grim page of world warfare. The Germans arise a third time, shortly after their defeat and push through against the Allies with their fanatic innovations. Enforced...