Please notice that I'm taking a few authors' liberties with the settings - certain events might be modified (or irrevelant) in comparison to
actual history. None of the stories are meant to be offensive or condemning and they are not to be treated seriously. Rated M for a reason.
Freedom
He had known him only for a while, but that was enough.
He had come for him, and everything about him – his smell, his touch, the sound of his words – felt like freedom. Being with him – even for those fifteen minutes – felt liberating. A spark of life in the dungeon.
The man – an officer of SS, whose name he never came to know between the sex and the fights – took care of both Russia and Poland. For a while, everything was just fine. He was free, more free than ever.
But then, he realized nothing had changed. He was still imprisoned, only his captor was different. His people were taken from him for reasons he did not understand. But the fervent kisses and the harsh voice kept him down, and he found himself longing for the lack of knowledge, for the sweet lack of care. It was too late by the time he realized that he had been used.
The man ran some time ago, along with his subordinates. The lack of the clatter of heels and the shuffling of their cars' tires made the city strangely silent and desolate, only flyers flying through the streets, carried by the wind.
But it was not long before the silence was shattered.
Ivan's army broke into his city, his capital, brutally, another violator destroying in the name of liberation. And he was once again lying in Ivan's cold grasp, his snoring keeping him awake. Quietly laughing through tears. He was surprised that it was still possible to ache for something you never had.
Freedom.