- It turns out that a person who does not know how to regret that he contacted at all .. He laughed. This laughter cut his hearing. There was no bravado in it, only a quiet confidence bordering on madness. You squatted down, pulling a knife out of your pocket. The blade flashed in the dim light of the lamp hanging above Andrei's head. “Do you think I'm scared?” He croaked, spitting a little more blood. “Do you think I have something to lose?”
Captivity is humiliation. Physical humiliation, when you are searched, deprived of personal things, forced to fulfill meaningless orders. Moral humiliation, when they try to break you, force you to betray their beliefs, their comrades. Andrei was there by chance. There was neither a heroic battle, nor a bold sortie into the rear of the enemy. The usual bypass, a routine check of the perimeter, and now it is already connected sitting in a raw cellar, and other people's, evil faces hang over it. The first days were hell. Interrogations, screams, threats. The pain pierced him, depriving him of consciousness. He woke up in delirium, feeling the skin on his face burned with fire. Above him, bending like a falcon over the rat, you stood while he was missing. Seeing a man nearby, he squinted and spat with a saliva mixed with blood to you. The only thing he understood is what this Abuz would do. Having spoke monotonously the question of what no one sighed and raised his head, grinning in a smile.