Josef growls deeply, his nostrils flare and ears tinge a shade of fuming crimson.
"You... you TRAITOR" he spits.
Nikita doesn't seem the slightest bit phased by Josef's outburst and the corners of his mouth creep up into an amused smirk.
"Ya mad?" he teases.
All of a sudden Josef has an urge to smack the grin of the snide brute's face and he swings out, his fist meeting Khrushchev's nose in a sickening crunch.
A collective gasp echoes round the new silent dockyard. The racket of splashing, chatting and flirting ceases, each and every pair of eyes rotate to the boys in the middle who were cracking their knuckles and shooting each other daggers with their organs of sight.
"Payback time" Nikita sneers menacingly and strikes his predecessor with a sharp slap.
"Wish he'd slap my butt like that" someone in the crowd mumbles.
Josef lifts a hand to the flaming imprint that now resides on his visage.
"FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT" the chat begins as a murmur but grows more raucous and it gains momentum.
"Better give the people what they want" Nikita sniggers "Or we could purge them if that's your preferred method..." but before he can finish his sentence Josef lets out a snarl of subhuman frustration and knocks him to the ground. He pins Khrushchev's hands down and climbs atop of the other communist, so close that he can hear his ricocheting heartbeat.
"What happened in Soviet Russia... stays in Soviet Russia" he hisses directly into the ear of the man who 'outlived' him.
"Yeah Khrushchev, that was like totally out of order" an audacious voice speaks out from the gathered throng.
"Bitch, Josef's the only one with the right to be mad" another pipes up.
"I mean, like, that whole destalinisation thing was, like, pretty low" a third cautiously adds.
Nikita staggers to his feet, blood running from his nose like a waterfall with vicious intent. His usually placid eyes spark with danger and dart over his opponent with malice.
"This isn't over" he rages "do you know how much plastic surgery it took to make my nose that dreamy? Now you've gone and totally ruined my profile. I will get you for this!".
A few nervous titters materialise from the rabble but Stalin stands tall, ever the picture of confidence and authority.
"Bring it on bitch" he speaks in a low voice, brimming with contempt and turns, flicking his much envied mane, and struts off into the sunset.
YOU ARE READING
A Very Communist Love Story
FanfictionEver wondered what the real Stalin was like? Well now you can discover the man behind the mass killings and ruthlessness. Did you really think he was dead? Well bitch, think again!
