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November 24, 2010
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(Contains: violence/gore and ideologically sensitive material)
Young Wolf, White Wolf

"Where'd you get that?"

"What?"

"That dirty jacket?"

Nick was staring at the worn dirty Jacket I had just finished pulling out of my drawer. The jacket was grey and, adorned with red stars with hammers and sickles on them. It was the jacket that lasted me six years on a blood-soaked, tear-drenched battlefield in the cold hole in the ground I called home, Siberia.

"It's a long story with a lot of tears, and blood."

"I want to get to know you better."

"It's definitely the place to start."

"I was born on a different planet, in a different universe. I'm not really sure actually.  More specifically, I was born in a small shack at the mouth of a cave in Siberia on the planet Earth. My father was a quantum physicist working on a secret program for the motherland, and my mother died during child birth. The year was 1923 and the communists had taken power only six years earlier during the Bolshevik Revolution."

Communism, sure it sounds like a good idea. You get the nice uniforms, and all the vodka you could get your frostbitten fingers on. Too bad a tyrannical dictator had taken over. I lived in the shack where I was born for ten years, until my dad got a "promotion". The guy above him actually defected to the U.S. So I got to move to a nice facility known as Vorkuta, twenty kilometers away from my hovel.

My father wanted me to learn to be a physicist like him, but after seeing all the military officers in their highly organized and beautiful uniforms, I knew what I wanted to become, a soldier protecting the motherland from the capitalist west. I would get my chance when I was 16. I volunteered as soon as I shook hands with the man who led a communist revolution, Joseph Stalin. The training was long and harsh. I think I came close to death a few times and hadn't even realized it. My commandant said I had the makings of a good soldier and a greater officer.

I was shipped around place to place for three long years mainly quelling the odd invasion or small rebellion.  That is until the June 22, 1941 when Nazi Germany invaded my land. As part of a Siberian division it was my job to protect the interests of Mother Russia, in Siberia no less. I have a feeling it wasn't by chance that I was assigned to my former home, Vorkuta, on December 21st, 1943.

It was believed that the Nazis would soon target these special research facilities so mother Russia sent us there in preparation. The men where asking me what they should expect inside the facility. They had heard rumors, rumors about testing new weapons and advanced technologies on political agitators and POWs. The only reply I could give was that I had never seen the tests themselves; I had only heard the screams. I didn't tell them of my father, but I knew that was why I would protect the place.  Too bad we were too late. When we arrived the red swastika banners had already been hung.

Before the train could reach Vorkuta we jumped. We would've hated to meet the welcome party of Germans. My five men and I snuck into the train depot under the cover of night and snow. The only thing keeping us warm was our fur and the Nazi blood we wiped off our knives onto our pant legs. We had made our way into the main complex before anybody found the cold hard bodies of their friends. The alarm was soon sounded and they opened fire upon us. Sergeant Cherdenko and Private Petrenko were the first to go down in the line of fire. Using any means necessary we fought our way to the center of the unholy complex.

As soon as the heavy plated doors opened, we were met with gun fire. They aimed too high; in a prone position we quickly took them unawares. With all the Germans dead we entered cautiously. There were three of us left. All the scientists gathered around us on a round blue iridescent platform.

"Where is Victor Reznov?!?!"

"I'm Victor Reznov. Who are you?"

"It's only been 4 years."

"Son?"

"Yes, father?"

My father, fur grayed and with an addition of spectacles. He stood, bold and straight in a lab coat, just like I remembered him. Just as I was about to hug the man that made me what I am today and the reunion I had been wanting for so long was in the heat of compassion, an alarm was sounded and a red light began to flash. All the scientists began to scatter.  My father darted away, looking back in fear.

"Oh my GOD, Tishar. Get off that platform!"

"Wha-?"

It was too late. Electricity began to surge all around me. The remaining two soldiers, that I hadn't taken the time to learn the names of, collapsed into balls. I could feel my veins popping from my skin. Then there was cold blackness.
I awoke in an alley with nothing but my jacket. The rest of my uniform was turned to shreds. As I stood up the shredded bits turned to ash and I coughed up some blood that tasted of iron. I looked around; the architecture of the alley was something I had never seen before. I heard sirens. I quickly flopped on the ground. A police car stopped at the end of the alley. The officers approached me. After they began questioning me, I acted confused; the only thing I told them was my name. They took me to the police station where I was looked up on a computer. "No record. No birth certificate."

After that, I would be sent to some sort of halfway-home/school combo. I would cry my self to sleep every night wondering if my dad was ok, and if I would ever see him again. For a long year they taught me to use computers and telephones. Things I had only seen and not touched. All of these things were a lot more advanced from where I had come from. We mainly used telegraphs and computers were larger and bulky with no screens and used transistors.

"After the year was up I was thrust into this city. I had never left the building for a whole year so the city was still new to me. I found this apartment and moved in yesterday. I went to your dad's bar, met you, now… Here I am…"

"…Wow…"
Tishar's past is revealed... Very easily...
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:iconsamiclayvivianmel:
samiclayvivianmel Featured By Owner Nov 25, 2010
Yes, just keeps to himself. XD He must like his otter-pal a lot, he never really talks to any of the others.
Reply
:iconrandomfurry94:
RandomFurry94 Featured By Owner Nov 25, 2010
Writing about WW2 is really easy for me. That's the only reason I wrote his back story down.
Reply
:iconsamiclayvivianmel:
samiclayvivianmel Featured By Owner Nov 26, 2010
I see. I'm guessing you have some special interest in WWII?
Reply
:iconrandomfurry94:
RandomFurry94 Featured By Owner Nov 27, 2010
Yep.
Reply
:iconsamiclayvivianmel:
samiclayvivianmel Featured By Owner Nov 28, 2010
Is it for any particular reason, or just because it's interesting?
Reply
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