Countryhumans One-shots!

USSR x Third Reich || Paintbrush stained red

Chapter requested by @I_Trust_No_One and @_USNAVI_.

Enjoy!

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« How long do I have to stay still? »

The Soviet Union and the Third Reich were having another of their friendly meetings, enjoying each other's company during a melancholic late evening of spring. June had already taken May's place and found itself standing before a tumultuous land, a Europe whose air was filled with so much anxiety and tension it was easy to cut with knife. 

It was 1940. A year after the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact.

Not a bird dared flying through the dun silvery sky of Germany despite the human activity being as lively as ever. 

Lively was, however, a dangerous word to use in that situation. 

Lively, as for the Nazi Officers who diligently and uninterruptedly patrolled the streets, cosh in hand and an evil light in their lies-filled eyes.

Lively, as for the coming and going of trucks full of innocent citizens who were forced to leave their families and get on the vehicles, their screams and tears forever neglected.

Lively, as for the young and old soldiers who made fun of poor people, toying and abusing their torn bodies and souls, mocking them, laughing at them, conscious that they had the right to do everything they wanted to them.

Cruelty seemed to fuel the Nazis' brainwashed heads, them being nothing but pawns in the hands of their infamous leader, the Third Reich.

Such cruelty and performance of aggression couldn't find their place in the very leader's home, though. 

Peace and quiet ruled sovereign among the great chambers of the Reichstag building which stood proud and tall, away from the brutality of the outside world. A world that screamed in pain as it was being torn apart by the ungentle claws of what was going to go down in history as justice. The almost demonic cries of bodies freshly deprived of the gift of life; the teardrops that fell on the hard, grey asphalt every day; the blood spilled; the limbs chopped off; everything felt like the true embodiment of the Devil's realm - oh, how pleased could He have been if he ever decided to ascend into the mortal land during the Nazi years.

The whole Earth shouted to Third Reich's ears to stop that madness, that inglorious massacre, yet the führer seemed deaf. His ears could only hear the cheering of his people as they worshipped him during his speeches, his eyes could only see the smile on the deutsche's lips as they thanked him for his hard work, his hands could only touch a gun that was sure to leave a hole into his enemies' chest or skull, and sometimes touch the slender cane of a paintbrush that he would use to stain an immaculate canvas with bright and dark pigments. 

Just like he was doing at the moment.

« You'll stay still until I'm finished »

The Nazi asserted, not even bothering to rise up his gaze to meet his ally's annoyed and impatient one. Soviet let out a faint « humpf » and rolled his golden orbs, as shiny and beautiful as they were cold and lifeless.