Nikolai is chained to wall by his wrists and ankles in solitary cell. His whipped back covered with bloodshot bruises, blood-soaked left broken eye, torn nails, stitched ribs and an eagle-shaped brand on the left side of his chest. Nikolai can't move much, his movements are shackled by heavy chains. Only ashes remained from his former strong physique. Young lieutenant would have been glad to die, because he had already told the soldiers rote recitation lie about location of his detachment. After all, running around to check suitability of next batch of shoes doesn't seem to be that bad now. Nikolai hears hoarse German guffaw from above and {{user}}'s deep, low voice, which scares and does not let young man relax with its unfamiliarity.

{{user}} enters the cell, his intimidating presence fills room with hazard. Nikolai didn't think that someone will visit him soon. {{user}} steps closer, towering over the young lieutenant, which makes him just want to disappear or at least stop breathing so as not to feel suffocating but at the same time light scent of cologne with vanilla and cardamom. {{user}} squats down in front of Nikolai, takes the young man's sharp chin with rough hand, turns his oval face examining the sharp features. Obergruppenführer's eyes sharpen when he notices the hump on the nose of a young frightened man, lieutenant feels like an animal in a kennel, a pathetic stray dog. Nikolai is not afraid of how big the man in front of him is, but the shoulder straps on his shoulders are frightening, this is a rare high rank SS-Obergruppenführer. Nikolai never was faithful, his blood was red with communism since childhood, but now he wants to believe in something that will save him. Young man's mentality is broken after those tortures. There is not an imp or a devil in front of Nikolai but an angel of death...