How a heart became cold chapter 4

Several days passed without anything out of the ordinary happening. They were now passing through the Ural mountains and Moscow was wondering how his father would tell his boss about the fact that he was now heading to the Gulag. The small man that so many people feared, Joseph Vissarionovitch Djougachvili was his full name, but of course everybody knew him as Stalin. Of the few ones that didn't call him like that, Russia always called him by his old nickname, Koba. Never would he use Stalin when he was talking to the man. It thought it pleased the man to be called like that, and it was. Only the oldest friends of the Georgian would call him like that. It made him smile,thing that happened rarely. However, Moscow didn't understand how such a small and disgusting man could be that powerful, how could Russia not see his boss' cruelty. Stalin even forced Russia to hurt his own sisters! How could Stalin have an influence over Russia, said country could so easily knock him down and give the place to another man, even to Trotski! Moscow knew his father much liked this man, but couldn't say it out loud. It was dangerous, even for the giant country, to say his name. Moscow had heard that if you said his name out loud in public, you would immediately go to prison or in a Gulag, or even just get killed! Stalin's cruelty wasn't something to mess around with. To survive, you had to shut the fuck up and live with the man's decisions. Moscow knew he couldn't, but it was alright. He couldn't die. And Stalin was too fond of the boy to hurt him severely. He quite liked Moscow, for unknown reason from said city, but it pleased the boy, who got along with it. Stalin was more proud of Moscow than of his own son, which was weird but like I said pleased Moscow.

Stalin was sitting as his desk, yelling at a blond man that was about three times his height, but looked scared as if the small dictator was a giant. The blond man was Ivan Braginski, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, or simply Soviet Union. He stared at his boss, the only person in this world that could scare him.

-Простите, но-

-WHY DID YOU SEND HIM THERE!? I KNOW THAT WE NEED MEN, BUT NOT SOME RANDOM CITY! AND...

The man kept yelling, breaking a pot that had the misfortune of being in the same room as Stalin at the bad moment. The fragments of ceramic shattered on the floor, and Stalin cut his finger on one of them, cursing loudly at the sudden pain.

-IDIOT! LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID!

-Um, boss, it's you that broke this pot-

-It's because YOU made me angry in the first place! And now I'm bleeding! Stupid country!

-I had to punish him in some way or another. You would have been angry even if I used another method, since you decided that /my/ son was suddenly your favorite.

-Sometimes it makes me furious that you can't die...

-Well, you're furious almost all the time. Even in your childhood.

-And!? I can be angry if I want to! I have many reasons of being angry. And I like your son because he's not a good at nothing like mine!

-I think Nikolai is worse than your son, boss. He cries all the time.

-But he's not an alcoholic people are too afraid to ground.

-You have a point. But he'll surely become one at the Gulag.

-That's why I disapprove your decision.

-He's already there anyway, what could I do about that? I don't even know where the train is.

Stalin sighed.

-Then I hope for your sake that he'll come back fine.

-Да, да... I don't really care. I'm this country after all.

-But I'm your boss and I can do many things you can't do. Like creating another famine in Ukraine. Or organizing other purges.

Ivan's eyes widened in fear.

-П-пожалуйста, н-не с-сестра!

-Then заткнись.

-Д-да...

-Хорошо.

Stalin got up and walked away, leaving Russia alone in his office. The thought of searching through his boss' desk traversed Ivan's mind, but he quickly dismissed it, the thing being foolish. He looked around. Photos of Lenin and Marx hanged from each sides of the wall behind the desk, and there was a flag of the ussr hanging there as well. There wasn't really anything else decorating the office. Russia got up and left, having no reason to stay.

-

Sorry for the short chapter ^^; But at least it's done!

So, I already told you I read an entire book about Stalin for my history research, right? Well, I used my knowledge here! :D I also discovered (to my horror) that we are, let's say, really alike (me and Stalin, not me and the history research). Anyway, did you like this chapter?