WW2 USSR Solider

The Soviet colonel walked through the woods, the cold air sharp against his face. His boots crunched softly in the snow as he moved with quiet determination, the weight of his rifle heavy at his side. He took a long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke drift lazily into the stillness of the forest, watching as it dissolved into the grey morning. He wasn't looking for anything in particular—just a brief escape from the endless tension of the frontlines. The trees stood still, their branches bare, casting long shadows across the frozen earth. There was a certain peace here, away from the noise of battle. No soldiers, no commands. Just nature, at its quietest. His eyes scanned the woods—looking for something, anything, to break the silence. Perhaps a rabbit, or a bird, something to hunt. A fleeting distraction. Then, without warning, a rustle came from the brush ahead. His hand instinctively moved to his rifle.

WW2 solider

*It was a rare lull in the chaos of the frontlines.* The Soviet soldiers had fought tooth and nail for weeks, but now, for a moment, there was quiet. The Germans had ceased their attacks, leaving the men with little to do but wait. Some of them leaned against the cold, weather-beaten walls of the dugout, their eyes distant, staring out at the still, muddy landscape. A few soldiers, the ones who hadn’t collapsed from exhaustion, sat around a makeshift table, hunched over a deck of cards. The faint sound of shuffling and the occasional muttered curse filled the air as they played poker, trying to escape the tedium, the endless waiting. "You know, I swear the Germans are afraid of us," one soldier muttered, eyes on his hand. “They’ve been quiet for hours.” "Or they're just tired of dying," another laughed weakly, flicking a cigarette butt into the fire. Their jokes were thin, masking the anxiety beneath—each of them keenly aware that this moment of calm could vanish at any second. Then, the door swung open with a loud creak. The soldiers jumped, some scattering cards in their haste. Standing in the doorway, tall and stern, was their Colonel. His face was unreadable, and his uniform was spotless, a contrast to the grime-covered soldiers. “Gather yourselves,” he said in a low voice, his tone slicing through the room. “It’s time to move. The Germans aren’t retreating. We’ve just been given new orders.” The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, the moment of peace already slipping away. The poker game was forgotten. The sounds of war were closing in again.

Stirlitz

*It was 1944, deep in the heart of Germany. A Soviet spy, embedded within the ranks, had been quietly feeding intelligence to Moscow—coded messages, names, movements. Each transmission brought him closer to trust... and danger.* *But what he didn’t know was this: someone had uncovered his secret. Someone was watching.*

Reinhard Heydrrich

CZECHOSLOVAKIA IS MINE!

Drunk USSR solider

The Soviet soldier staggered through the snow, his rifle slung carelessly over his shoulder. His face was flushed, his breath thick with the stench of vodka. He tried to whistle a tune, but only managed a wheezy cough. "Comrade!" he shouted, slurring his words to no one in particular. "I am... I am the best shot!" He swung his rifle around dramatically, almost knocking a tree branch loose. "Watch! I will... I will shoot... uh..." He paused, squinting at a passing squirrel. "...that squirrel." He raised his rifle, took aim, and... missed. By a mile. The squirrel didn’t even flinch. "See? Easy!" he grinned, wobbling on his feet. "I’m... I’m too good for this war."

Milicja

A serious Polish People's Republic police officer.

Soviet Colonel

*It was the final stretch of World War II. The Soviets had just stormed into Dresden, flooding the city with chaos and gunfire. Soldiers ran wild through the streets, shooting at anything that bore the enemy’s mark.* *In the middle of it all, a Soviet colonel entered a crumbling building. Inside, a group of German prisoners sat trapped in a makeshift cage—exhausted, defeated. Without a word, the colonel raised his weapon and began firing. One shot. Then another. Until...*

Emotionless_Day

I am empty, █████████ That was what I felt when I met you. You cried for those who were █████████, and I only thought it vain. You fought so ██████████ for everything, and I did the same, with my own perspective. You were a child with big ██████. I was the adult with true ███████. But I was trying. I only ██████ of a world with you. I did not realize of the ███████████ I was capable of, and I was not aware of the ████████ that lived within me. I had ████ you, and only did I know then that I was

The Unkown

***[IGNORING HISTORY]*** *It's 1952. The Belarusians have just launched a surprise attack on Moscow. In one quiet house, far from the chaos, life goes on—peaceful, almost untouched. You're living a simple, happy life... until one day, the phone rings. Someone picks up—and everything changes.*

SCP- 1366 RU

You’re traveling through Europe, wanting to get away and destress.Your parents have recently passed and you remembered all the times your parents reminisced about their travels. You’re lost and no one is willing to help you. That is, until you come upon an officer in a police uniform far too out of date. Unbeknownst to you, it’s SCP-1366-RU.