Chapter 1
With the clacking of the wagon wheels over the stone road, dense smoke and dust emerged from each step that was taken and traversed.
The streets in a village nestled in the huge country of Russia was bustling with activity. Makeshift stands were on the side while salesman and saleswomen advertised with their voices. Fruits, milk, meat, tools-the length of the market on this road could go on and on. It was another busy day in a village full of supplies and riches. Kids running through each cracks that were made with the stands and the crowd, playing tag or whatever creative game they come up with on their minds.
...and it was just another patrolling day.
A very tall man, adorned with a uniform and small badge, walked and looked at each detail going on. His hair was sloppily tied up, and the color swirled with a mixture of lavender and pale white color-matching his skin tone. Luckily, the shoddy work was covered by his ushanka. While walking, he examined each stand with every glance made; to make sure there were no swindlers or robbers. He heard each word and chatter from the gossip on the streets, to make sure nothing was being planned or something was going on. He looked at every dark crevice and opening to make sure nothing shady was happening, like a cloaked woman punching a civilian to the ground and stealing a bag of money.
...Wait.
He snapped and looked back at the scene.
“Hey!”
His pace quickened as he curbed through the crowds. As he approached, voices and groans were heard.
“...maybe next time you won’t falsely advertise your cheap junk.” The woman with long hair put the bag of money in her coat and tightened her gloves. Her demeanor apparently matched her dark-blue hair.
“Halt!” The man said. In the alley, it was a dead end for her and the merchant that was lying on the ground.
The woman looked straight at him and scoffed, unamused.
“Oh goody. What rare sight to behold. An actual officer doing their job.” she said. He approached her. “This isn’t a fight you can’t win. Just drop the rubles and things will be easier for you.”
The woman was irritated and let out a sigh. “Funny. It’s scum like you officers who make the job harder for us. Now, get out of the way.”
She started walking towards him. The officer tried to apprehend her by grabbing her arm first...
...and was greeted back with a punch through his gut. He tried to tackle her, but she quickly backed away as he fell to the ground and jumped over him. She walked and stepped over him to get through. She turned back and looked at him, her middle finger extended.
“Be a smart boy and leave me alone.”
“Krusveto?” The officer heard a voice.
“Hey, it’s her again! Stop her!” Another voice spoke.
The woman looked both ways and noticed she was nearby a fruit stand. With brute force, she pulled one of the sticks, making the apples fall on the ground between her and the two men that attempted to corner her. She ran alongside the walls on the street to get away.
“After her! She-”
“Let’s worry about our comrade first, Mikhail.” The standing officer put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. They brushed through the apples on the ground and head to help their fellow soldier.
With help from one another, they help up the man, who was called Krusveto.
“Are you alright, comrade?”
“Yes. It’s been a while since an incident happened here.” Krusveto said, brushing off the dirt from his uniform.
The other man laughed. “And of all of them, it had to be her, huh?”
“Igor...”
“Ah, Mikhail, don’t be so serious. Dear friend,” Igor continued as he looked at Krusveto. “Head down to headquarters and file a report. We’ll meet and gather with the others to see if we can capture her. Think of it as...an easy break for you.” he winked.
Krusveto’s interest piqued at that statement, but he was right. He would need to head down below to file a report and follow up with the higher-ups.
“Will do.”
As he walked onto the streets, he heard muttering from his colleagues.
“We can’t fool around anymore. Citizens will catch on...”
“I know, I know. The streets are busy today. Let’s handle this seriously this time...”
Krusveto walked through the busy streets and alleyways within the village. The further he walked, the less crowded the streets became. The smell of trickling water and soot lingered in the air as he walked in a cramped street with small living spaces. It was a one-way street, and like any law-abiding citizen, he went through the right direction-even if it meant it was an extra walk.
The officer came across some steps leading downward, making it seem like the small compartments in the area were just built above a tunnel. His boots made steps through the crampped stairs down below. He opened a wooden door, and it shook with the metal and chains attached to it.
Pale light from the day illuminated the winding tunnel Krusveto traversed. Some areas were illuminated with hanging lamps-some having their light flickering just like fireflies. The walls of steel made voices and noises echo around the tunnel. After passing few hallways and fellow colleagues that were chatting, he opened the door to an office.
“Krusveto.”
“Lieutenant Piter Yaroslavich.”
In front of Krusveto sat Lieutenant Piter Yaroslavich, head of the police-force of the busy village. His suit was dark green and adorned with a higher-ranking badge. Krusveto had a past with him as a child. They always looked up to the police-force. While Krusveto only made it up to where he is now, Lieutenant Piter was able to climb to the top. As children, they shared secrets without consequences. However, times have changed and some things had to be left unspoken-albeit classified.
Piter smiled and chortled. “What happened to you? First incident in a while, and you come back to me with a face like that?”
Krusveto sighed. “That’s why I am here, per order: reporting incidents immediately, including failed ones.”
“Of course, of course.” Piter said as he reached to take a manila folder. “So who kicked your ass this time?”
“Piter...” he said as he held the palm of his hand to his forehead.
“Ah, friend. Don’t be like that. I’ll skip the jokes for you. So, go on and continue.”
“5th market street on the 1/2 alleyway. Subject was a woman with dark-blue hair and a long jacket. She was mugging a merchant. Got away with the rubles. Officers Igor and Mikhail were...”
“Hold on there...Rschvanya?”
“...Huh?”
Piter let out a laugh that echoed the room. “No wonder you are coming in like a русалка.¹ Vasil and Andrei just brought her in.” He put the folder away and picked up another folder packed with papers-presumably of that Rschvanya woman. “Listen, the guard left and the other one is running late. While you file this, why don’t you stand guard over there until then?”
“Standing guard for a criminal that defeated me? I’m not sure how to feel about that, Lieutenant Piter.”
“It goes whatever way works in your favor, Krusveto. You can leave for the day once the other guard shows up.”
He sighed. “Fine.” He grabbed a pen from the desk and the folder from Piter and walked in a room, that had separate rooms of a group of cells.
He opened the file and looked through it as he was walking down the corridors of cells, the metal floor clacking and echoing. The criminals he passed by were either young punks, repeat offenders, or homeless people that are thankful for a crappy meal and crappy place. From across, it sounded like they were begging Krusveto to let them out. However, the voices were drowned out as Krusveto looked at the information of the file.
’Name: Zavinskovna Rschvanya Gazvelovna
Gender: Female
Height: 180.34cm
Weight: 56.2kg
Criminal Class: A
Criminal Status: Active, Contained.′
As he reached a door, he opened it and walked through it.
’Crime Documentation:
Thievery
Assault
Arson
Destruction-′
The man heard clinging of thick chains. As he looked to the left, there she was.
The criminal, Rschvanya.
She looked at him. “Well, look who it is. You weren’t a comfortable doormat.” The woman sat on a creaky metal bench. Her hands were completely covered in metal and linked together with a short chain.
“Hmph.” Krusveto looked away as he continued trying to read her file.
’Poison
Smuggling
Mur-′
“Aw, don’t tell me you’re that bitter with me.” Rschvanya said. “Are you trying to be a perfect officer, to uphold order? To keep everyone in line? To protect ‘everyone’...for the ‘greater good?’”
“It’s better than acting like a scumbag. It’s criminals and troublemakers like you who destroy this village.” He closed the folder and clenched it. “Shouldn’t someone like you be more contributing to society-maybe a maid at least?”
“Maid? Why would I be one when there is a butler before me?” she said with a smug look.
His patience was wearing thin, as being told by the folder being squeezed too hard and his teeth gritting. “Looking at your file, you’re lucky they haven’t considered the death penalty.” With them separated by bars, Krusveto towered over her. “And you’re lucky we’re separated by these bars. I wouldn’t mind putting you in your place. Those cuffs on you aren’t giving you any mercy.”
“I think you’re mistaken. These cuffs are a ‘mercy’ to me.”
Krusveto glared at her. It seemed like every threat he made to her was countered with an insult, and she was doing well at it. Just who does this bitch think she is? With multiple charges and no doubt multiple imprisonments, how does someone like this slip through the cracks?
“...How about I make you an offer, officer?”
“You? What could YOU possibly offer from a prison cell? Do you think you can bribe me for you to escape? Don’t be coy.”
“It would make the job easier for the both of us...mostly you.”
“Why don’t you humor me, because I’m not seeing the joke here.”
“All you have to do is unlock these handcuffs and my cell...and once I escape, I’ll be sure to spare you.”
Some voices were heard in the other side of the tunnel. It seemed like the next guard was here.
Krusveto grinned. What was this woman thinking? Surely, the lack of air from the useless chatter has driven her mad. “You want me to set you free, so you won’t kill me...when you can’t even lay a finger on me at the moment.” He turned and walked down the hall. While looking back at her cell, he left a final message.
“I’m done being entertainment for you. Гни в этой камере, блядь, бродяга.²”
Krusveto slammed the manila folder to the guard who was coming in for his shift. His anger and irritability translated that the guard shouldn’t be this late next time.
The officer bent down and walked up the stairs as he was coming out of the headquarters. The streetlights began to turn on as the night fell on the formerly busy streets. He wiped his forehead, regretting that he hasn’t acted formally or maintained his composure during his conversation. The only thought that could lessen the guilt was that woman was nothing but a criminal. They were nothing but trash to the perfect society of this village.
“Krusveto?”
Alongside the street on his usual route, he came across a small elderly woman. She was holding a basket of bread, fruits, and vegetables.
“My, you’re running late. Have they kept you in there too long?”
“Mrs. Sascha. I’m shocked you still waited. I was hoping you’d be inside. The night is no place for a бабушка³ to be out.” Krusveto said.
“And no young man like yourself should be overworked to the bones.” she retorted. “Have you heard anything about my husband?”
Krusveto sighed, hating to disappoint her again. Mrs. Sascha has been so kind to everyone around her, especially him. Almost every day when walking out of the headquarters, there she was with her basket of food to help lessen the burden of his job. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Sascha. There is still no sign or leads...”
She sighed, but seemed like she was expecting an answer like that. “As always. You must be annoyed by my pestering.”
“I made this my usual route ever since for that reason, Mrs. Sascha. You have given so much to me and the fellow citizens in this village. You know I won’t rest until your husband is found.”
“Боже мой⁴ and that is what happens when you overwork yourself. Look at you. You had a rough day. Bend down, boy.” Sascha said as Krusveto bent down, and she fixed his face and hair with a pat each. “Here. The merchants had extras for the day. Treat yourself to this cornucopia and rest well tonight!” She pushed the basket of food towards him and let go, making sure he took it.
“T-thank you again, Ma’am.” Krusveto took the goods. “Now go, go.” Mrs. Sascha waved her hands. “You want me to be indoors, so the quicker you move, the better!”
With that, Krusveto walked away and Mrs. Sascha went inside to close her door.
This was one of the reasons he dreamed and wanted to become an officer. The citizens of the village have been giving each other so much. The merchants always in stock of food, the workers keeping a surplus of materials, and people like Mrs. Sascha who give back to others and had her arms open for them. He always saw people in danger, and being helpless as a kid, he couldn’t do anything.
Now he could.
He could give something back.
He could protect those who need it.
He would make sure no one was left behind.
Krusveto arrived at his house, which was attached to others like every other citizen. He reached in his pocket and tried holding the basket at the same time, pulling out his keys. With a turn, he walked in and the steps on the wooden planks was heard. The room was pitch black-thanks to the night sky and preserving the light for the town. He pulled a metal string, which illuminated the entire room.
He looked straight ahead into the kitchen, and the basket of food fell from his hands as he stood in shock. The fruits and vegetables rolled on the ground, accompanying the dead silence in the atmosphere. Someone was here. She was sitting at the table, with sickle in her hand.
“Welcome home.” Rschvanya gave a huge, mischievous smile. And with that, Krusveto knew he was in trouble.
¹ Rusalka(русалка) is a female entity in folklore that died by drowning and haunt the area. In this case, Piter is using it as an insult against Krusveto.
²“Rot in that cell, you fucking tramp.”
³ Babushka(бабушка,Old Lady)
⁴“My god”
