The Children of Rasputin

"Why is he not bandaged?" Sophia asked. Malenko placed his hand on the small of her back as he drew close to her side so they could both look in at the man. He smelled of expensive Cuban cigars, quite a luxury now that the once promising Red Bloc outpost was entirely under American control.

"He won't let our medics touch him. He flinches away from contact, altogether. Honestly, Comrade Commissar, I must admit I've seen a number of men break under **** behave in such a way. I've tried all of the usual tricks to snap him out of it. Schnapps. Tobacco. Cocaine. He will accept nothing. I do not have the time or patience to get him addicted heroin to overcome his psychosis and tell me what I want to know; as I am sure you understand." Malenko said, allowing his hand to travel down to the swell of her shapely ass.

Sophia nodded. During her training at the Commissariat, she was taught of the Children of Rasputin. The Mad Monk had been infamous in his time for his widespread debauchery. What was kept hidden from the public, by both the Tzar and the Soviets who followed, was why. Not long after the brutal battle of Kursk that nearly broke both great armies, the bodies of both Soviet and Stadti began to appear with the Cursed Cross branded into their flesh.

At the time, the KGB was in its infancy, so it was up to the Commissars to root out the cause of the mutilations. At first, they suspected the British of the operation (who were well known for their widespread and embarrassingly effective disinformation campaigns, a curse that still plagues both the Bloc and the Stadt to this day); but it soon became clear something far more ominous was at play.

It was in a small town in the Urals where the first direct evidence of the Cult was discovered; a brothel that supposedly housed a woman of stunning beauty that could tell the future. Such things were not uncommon in those superstitious times, but after a local officer sent a frantic telegraph to his commanding officer about a "witch-whore" that foretold his daughter's **** to the hour, an investigator was dispatched, though it took some time to pass the frozen terrain.

What she found shocked her. The woman had taken residence in the officer's house, heavy with child. When questioned of the meaning of this, the officer seemed slow of mind and dismissive. When asked about the circumstances of his daughter's ****, he seemed to barely remember her at all. The investigator, growing suspicious of the harlot's sway over the man, gathered her personal guardsmen and stormed the brothel.

Sophia remembered the description of the scene that greeted them.

"Men and women, both young and old, lay everywhere in the most perverse fornication. No preference was given to gender or orifice in their orgy of deviancy. Fathers lay with sons, and sisters with grandfathers with all manner of strangers writhing around them. An enormous cross hung on the wall, affixed to it a woman hung upside down so that her legs were tied to the outstretched arms and her wrists tied at the base with a board nailed to the top.

A beautiful Russian girl approached her with a bowl full of the swirling juices she was charged with collecting from the savage copulations of all present. She poured the contents into the woman's gaping womb, which caused her to shudder in delight. Upon the woman's chest was a faded scar in the shape of a cross with an eye above it. When a candle illuminated the inscription on the sign atop the cross, it did not read "INRI", but rather "Tzarina."

The investigator, Sophia recalled, nailed the door shut and immolated the brothel with a flamethrower. It would not be the only time such a scene was to be found. A butcher's shop in Minsk, a church in Helsinki; the cult seemed to be plague that emerged from the darkest corners of the Union. The Commissars soon found it had a name: The Children of Rasputin.

A Shadow Terror was launched that claimed some 20,000 lives before the evil was cleansed from the Union; and the Commissariat along with the Censorship Bureau eliminated all mention of it from the Earth. There were always whispers of soothsayers of unnatural talent and whores who could cure any illness from the distant reaches of the Bloc, but upon investigation they turned out to be local charlatans and village mystics. Until now.

Sophia stared at the man as his head snapped from to side, seeking terrors in the pitch black corners of the cell and reeling away from the phantoms in his mind.

"Give me the bandages. I will have him talking by morning." she said. Malenko arched an eyebrow, squeezed her ass, and left her to her work.