Only through the most brutal battle

„Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair, Anton?”

His hands were tied behind his back, and he was sitting on the concrete floor. His knees were beginning to ache, as the position he was in wasn’t the most comfortable – even after years of military training, where the comfort was infinitesimal.

“You know, I think this would be much more fun if I wasn’t tied.”

A grunt full of hatred was heard from the man sitting in front of him. Arstotzka rose from his chair and came closer to him.

“Quiet,” was all he said while he started to circle the man like a predator circling its prey. Ah, yes. Eloquent like always.

Only after Arstotzka circled him two times, did Kolechia decide to finally speak again, “If this is some kind of fantasy of yours, you could just te–“

He didn’t finish. With all his force, Arstotzka swung his leg and hit Kolechia in the stomach with his boot. The blond man doubled over in pain, unable to breathe as he felt the air being knocked out of his lungs. Oh, it hurt. Definitely would leave bruises afterwards, but it wasn’t something Kolechia cared about at the moment.

As Kolechia slightly regained his composure, Arstotzka crouched next to him, and forcefully grabbed him by the chin as brutally as he could, lifting his head so their eyes locked. Despite the shooting pain, Kolechia smiled, showing a row of relatively straight teeth.

The same expression, the same smile as back then…

“I think you are forgetting who you are talking to.”

How Kolechia wanted to spit either on his annoying face or on the polished jackboots.

“To a communist, useless whoredog?” he replied, regardless of the pressure on his jaw.

For a moment, the feeling was gone, but before Kolechia could cherish it, he was hit. Again. This time in the face, with a fist. His neck almost snapped from the impact, and moments later felt blood running down his face, into his lips, then dripping down onto his dark sandy pants.

“Oh, Anton, it really is unfair. We both know that if I wasn’t tied, you’d actually be dead,” he croaked, as he looked up at the man above him once again.

“You can’t do anything to me,” was he trying to convince him or himself? That didn’t matter. Despite his unbothered expression, his eyes were swirling with strong emotions, but Kolechia couldn’t decipher them all.

The blond man laughed, tasting the metallic savor on his mouth. 

“I’d mop the floor with you, sunshine.”

In one swift motion, Arstotzka put his shoe on his head and forcefully smashed his face into the floor.

Ah.

He did deserve that, didn’t he?