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Soviet-Superwoman β€” Spectres of the Past, Part 2

Published: 2011-03-22 23:13:38 +0000 UTC; Views: 14086; Favourites: 193; Downloads: 519
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It was the 8th of September 1941 when I arrived in what remained of beautiful Leningrad, the city named for the father of our glorious revolution. As his blitzkrieg rushed towards Moscow, Hitler made the decision to bypass Leningrad and strangle the city into submission rather than commit valuable resources to attacking it directly. German forces had largely surrounded the city, cutting off all supply routes and the Finns were threatening the city from the north and east. Unable to press home their offensive, and facing defenses of the city organized by our Marshal Zhukov, the Axis armies laid siege to the city. Artillery and aerial bombardments rained down on the beleaguered city day and night. On Hitler's express orders, most of the palaces of the Tzars, such as the Catherine Palace, Peterhof Palace, Ropsha, Strelna, Gatchina, and other historic landmarks located outside the city's defensive perimeter were looted and then destroyed. There were no utilities, food, water or supplies, no electrical power and no coal or oil. Leningrad was a tomb, a terrible place where starvation killed more civilians than the bombs and the shelling. The city's population of dogs, cats, horses, rats and crows disappeared as they became the main course on many dinner tables. Reports of cannibalism had begun to appear.

This was the place I was taken to by Commander Popov, my commanding officer. Me, a young bright-eyed girl from a rural kolkholz about to be taken to one of the most horrific sites in the entire conflict. I didn't know any of that at the time of course. It was simply where the Germans were killing our troops and people and that was all that mattered. They had butchered my family...my mother and father, my brother...my entire village and everything I had ever known was gone in a blink of an eye because of them. I wanted revenge. I wanted my pound of proverbial flesh. My heart boiled in my chest as we traveled to the city by train. The officers did not know what to make of me. That thought the Committee had lost their minds to send a fresh-faced young farm-girl in a ridiculous costume to the front lines. A propaganda stunt. Someone like Betty Grable for the Americans. A face that would inspire the soldiers to fight for their sweethearts and nation in a skin-tight costume that they could release their passions to at night. A sex symbol. I knew I was becoming so much more.

When we arrived it was a vision of hell on earth. The smells were unbearable - burning flesh and smoke and the cloying undeniable stench of starvation, the body turning on itself to survive. The sounds of explosions rocked the husk of the once mighty city. Death was everywhere and the soldiers and civilians that remained trapped grew accustomed to the bodies in the streets. I threw up the first time and a few of the officers and soldiers laughed at me and shook their heads. "Why is she here?" they must have wondered. I could feel them undressing me with their eyes, cupping my breasts to their mouths and forcing themselves on me. As a propaganda tool I was certainly effective. The soldiers blood would go up and they would suddenly have their morale back, if only briefly. I was kept behind the lines the first day, nothing more than a sexual fantasy for the troops. More than once a soldier tried to kiss me or assault me, but I was more than capable of holding my own. An officer named Voroshilov noticed me slap down a soldier far larger than I was like he was a child. Voroshilov was a brave man who I once witnessed standing in defiance of the heavy shelling falling all around him to shout curses at the enemy. He knew my potential. Much later he would accept a sword presented to Comrade Stalin and myself by Prime Minister Churchill only to accidentally drop it to the floor. He was always a good friend to me.

Voroshilov made sure that I got my wish to enter combat and stop being a plaything for the troops. The next day I was given the task of breaking through a German line of tanks and infantry. Voroshilov rallied a group of retreating soldiers and personally led the attack, with nothing but a pistol. I rushed forward with them and finally got to see my first real glimpse of the enemy I had come to hate with all my heart. I wish I could say they looked like the monsters I had imaged, like demons from Hell..but they did not. They were simply men.

I had run into a German flammenwerfer troop. All young boys with attractive gray uniforms. They could have just as easily been men in the Red Army or from my village. They looked normal and my heart sank. For the first time, now face to face with them I grew very afraid. All of the anxiety I had bottled up and hidden deep inside began to bubble up to the surface. What was I doing here? I was just a farm-girl! A stupid, lonely peasant. What if my powers stopped working? What if the scientists had been wrong about me? Faced with the prospect of killing these men I suddenly found I had lost my nerve. I didn't even have a weapon. What did they want me to do, rip them apart with my bare hands? I stopped and ordered them to surrender, but in those early days I did not yet speak any German and I know my voice was shaky and broken. They stopped and stared at me for a moment before breaking out into smiles and laughing. What a sight I must have been to them. A beautiful, athletic looking amazon, dressed in a ridiculous costume and cape. I began to grow angry and embarrassed.

These people had killed my family. Perhaps not the ones in front of me, but others like them. Wearing that uniform.

One of the Germans stopped laughing and said something to me. I didn't understand a word of it and it must have looked obvious. Soon after Leningrad I made certain to learn the German language so I could understand them and more importantly they could understand me. They talked amongst themselves for a moment, chuckling. One of them made a crude gesture, pumping his fist. My lips pulled away from my teeth and I took a step forward. I reissued my command for them to surrender, my face turning hot with anger. The one who had spoken to me smiled and took a step forward as well, pointing the barrel of his flamethrower at me. "Auf Wiedersehen" was all he said, shaking his head. He depressed the trigger and I could see the tongue of red-hot flames leap out of the end and scorch towards me. My eyes opened wide in both fear and surprise. This was the moment of truth.

Twin beams of red light shot out from my eyes and slammed through the chest of the young German, even as the flames poured over me like water. It was the first time I had taken a life and the first time I realized that I could kill from a distance with my eyes. For a moment I could not even breathe.

The look of surprise and confusion on that young man's face would be burned forever into my consciousness.

The other Germans stopped laughing. Their friend made a gasping sound as his final breath left his trachea and collapsed forward, his boots still twitching. The beams striking his chest had left only two smoking, cauterized holes about the size of a ruble. I could feel the heat all around me, but I did not burn. My cape caught fire and my new costume melted in some places, but my flesh was invulnerable to the flames. Nothing more than a slight stinging. The Germans stood transfixed. They looked at me with mouths hung open and eyes bulging from their sockets. It was their turn to be afraid as I knew they could not hurt me. Their bullets, fire and artillery were all made useless against my impervious new body. They would have done just as well to try to punch me with their feeble strength. After a long second they all turned their weapons on me in a panic, as if the flamethrowers they had would do any better than their fallen comrade's.

They say that after your first kill, the others grow easier. You get accustomed to it...comfortable. I never did. It was a war. It was what was needed to win, to keep my people safe. It was necessary.
And kill I did.

By the end of that first day the soldiers who had once sneered at me and made disgusting comments about me to my face now openly wept as I approached. Some cheered, others shouted my name to the heavens and claimed that it was blessed. The officers were in disbelief. I had punched through the German's seemingly unbreakable line in a matter of hours, throwing tanks and artillery pieces around like they were made of feathers. Only my uniform suffered the worst of it and almost immediately spare suits were made for me to wear. I had given the Red Army and the Russian people a hope they had not seen in months of brutal combat and destruction and I was given a new name by the German forces: "Sowjetische Superfrau" or "Soviet Superwoman". It was a name I kept to strike fear into their hearts and to give the Soviet people pride.

That night I cried, as I would many, many nights to follow.

To be continued...

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The stunning piece of artwork shown here was provided by the incredible whose gallery in nothing short of amazing! This piece was commissioned by my good friend who wanted to tell the story of Soviet Superwoman's past almost as much as I did. I hope that my story did not disappoint and thank you both for giving me this opportunity.

Soviet Superwoman is my creation and property as is the story written here.

Though her tale is from the past, Olga currently resides in
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Comments: 50

Blackheartbc [2011-12-21 20:35:54 +0000 UTC]

БовСтская Π‘ΡƒΠΏΠ΅Ρ€-Π–Π΅Π½Ρ‰ΠΈΠ½Π° ΠΈΡ… всС ΠΏΠΎΡ€Π²Π΅Ρ‚!

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Mambho [2011-08-12 18:59:30 +0000 UTC]

This is great. well done

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lilguy31 [2011-04-17 19:36:49 +0000 UTC]

war is hell

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Lurker-Below [2011-04-16 18:17:27 +0000 UTC]

I'm sorry to say that is war. I'm glad Olga didn't become as jaded as so many did during the conflict, but she's reaping the grief of PSTD now. It's good she has Maia to help, but she may need more professional help in that regard.

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PaulPoser [2011-04-05 11:01:19 +0000 UTC]

Awesome art!

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Zespara [2011-03-25 06:06:58 +0000 UTC]

So Olga still believes what Stalin and the Soviets told her, that the Germans were responsible for the slaughter of her family and village? I believe you told me that she suspects the truth.

Great story as usual and the artwork is absolutely perfect for it.

Z

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to Zespara [2011-03-25 12:22:32 +0000 UTC]

She does, but for the confines of this story I would have gone into another whole tangent and taken away from the point she was making. At the time, she was completely naive and clueless.

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hotrod5 [2011-03-24 23:33:13 +0000 UTC]

Another great read my friend. If SSW was like Poison, she would be grinning from ear to ear throughout the entire war with all the killing she can do.

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The-Highlander [2011-03-24 22:18:59 +0000 UTC]

Another excellent chapter, I particularly the part where Olga come face to face with the enemy for the first time and realises that they are just the same as those on her own side. It is one of the sad truths of war that there is normally little difference between those on the opposing sides.

One comment I would make to Olga, the fact that you have never comfortable with killing means that you are more human than many other people.

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U1trawoman [2011-03-23 21:07:37 +0000 UTC]

This is perhaps my favorite story to date. I have always thought the killing should be harder for Olga than it sometimes seemed. The insight into her beginnings is quite insightful.

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to U1trawoman [2011-03-24 06:43:40 +0000 UTC]

Coming from a writer like yourself this is an incredible compliment and one I really take to heart.

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19chucki74 [2011-03-23 20:11:41 +0000 UTC]

Olga can not ever get over taking lives. Thus why she does what she does. More to come, I presume?

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to 19chucki74 [2011-03-24 06:42:45 +0000 UTC]

You presume correctly.

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Valkyrja-Skuld [2011-03-23 19:21:25 +0000 UTC]

Killing people is a dirty business. No-one can come out of such an experience unscathed. I understand what it must have been for this poor peasant girl suddenly thrown into a world of violence...

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NathanDArt [2011-03-23 14:57:00 +0000 UTC]

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Woodclaw [2011-03-23 08:48:48 +0000 UTC]

Oh... Crap...
This is truly impressive, both art and story, excellent work.

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cooltime17 [2011-03-23 08:45:59 +0000 UTC]

the first kill... happened in a way that you didn't expect ether.

nice work

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Knight3000 [2011-03-23 07:51:49 +0000 UTC]

Wow that was intense! There was some historical elemnts mixed in this story that makes it even more believable which is excellent My dear!
Olga was green in Leningrad. She also knew first hand what needs to be done in a combat situation to survive. some of those German soldiers are no oder than herself but it had to be done for the morale of the Red Army and to defend Mother Russia.
It was also touchin that she cried afterwards it was really heartfelt.
You did not disappoint my Dear a always!
Great render by BAKART

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andrewr255 [2011-03-23 05:41:51 +0000 UTC]

The only thing disappointing about this story is that it had to end (at least for now.) Great art and great writting make each other even greater and when a tale of a superheroine feels as totally real as this that is very special indeed.

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Levia-the-Dragon [2011-03-23 04:27:49 +0000 UTC]

This actually feels very real to me, as if everything transcribed is happening in the world of that time revolving around someone that really does have these powers, impressive work as always.

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Paudraic [2011-03-23 02:56:41 +0000 UTC]

Powerful image and tale.

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captainlemar [2011-03-23 02:23:43 +0000 UTC]

WOW

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to captainlemar [2011-03-23 02:30:51 +0000 UTC]

got the same exclamation out of me when I opened this piece of art.

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jerrie46 [2011-03-23 02:20:18 +0000 UTC]

damn! could you give me writing lessons? your stories never disappoint me

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to jerrie46 [2011-03-23 02:30:01 +0000 UTC]

Then I hope I can continue that trend my friend, many thanks.

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JamesE82 [2011-03-23 01:06:09 +0000 UTC]

The picture makes Sovie look both cute and powerful at once, and I don’t think I need to tell you how great this story was.

β€œThey looked normal and my heart sank.” That line would get Connie cursing at Olga for five minutes straight, but it is one of the lines that makes it clear your sweet farm girl was just that at heart, a sweet farm girl, and despite her actions during the great conflict, not a killing machine. The part about killing not getting any easier for her is a striking difference between our characters, as Connie craves each upcoming kill more than the last. And it’s interesting how both sides didn’t show Sovie the respect she deserves… but only at first.

Magnificent job on an important tale in the Soviet Superwoman’s mythos.

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to JamesE82 [2011-03-23 02:32:38 +0000 UTC]

Huh...where is Connie? Usually she chimes in well before now?

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JamesE82 In reply to Soviet-Superwoman [2011-03-23 12:49:51 +0000 UTC]

She’s off trying on some lacy lingerie, thanks to you.

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to JamesE82 [2011-03-23 13:00:43 +0000 UTC]

LMAO tell her I could have asked for it nude.

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JamesE82 In reply to Soviet-Superwoman [2011-03-23 13:08:06 +0000 UTC]

And you didn’t? Just kidding, you know I’m avoiding that, and the outfit is a wonderful change for her.

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ong76win2 [2011-03-23 01:01:35 +0000 UTC]

Wow. Great work! Love the story also pertaining to this image!

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to ong76win2 [2011-03-23 02:29:34 +0000 UTC]

Many thanks my friend.

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Stick-bag [2011-03-23 00:48:05 +0000 UTC]

And so the superhuman arms race truly began...

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to Stick-bag [2011-03-23 02:31:45 +0000 UTC]

Begun, this Great Patriotic war has...

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JS-Graphics [2011-03-23 00:44:42 +0000 UTC]

Awesome! you know I've been watching over half of the artists from your commissions. You know how to pick em'.

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to JS-Graphics [2011-03-23 02:29:22 +0000 UTC]

Thank you very much for saying so.

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Levi-K-Whitney [2011-03-23 00:38:32 +0000 UTC]

Hm. Sad.

Well written.

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to Levi-K-Whitney [2011-03-23 02:29:08 +0000 UTC]

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hqadd [2011-03-23 00:06:19 +0000 UTC]

Wonderful!I was so waiting for the last story , it came awesome and keep on getting better! to get into the deep of your amazing character is such a refined pleasure! I'm really becoming an addicted!
PS.AKART art is fantastic!

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to hqadd [2011-03-23 02:28:47 +0000 UTC]

Well I hope I can at least give you a weekly fix then.

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hqadd In reply to Soviet-Superwoman [2011-03-23 02:32:15 +0000 UTC]

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hqadd In reply to hqadd [2011-03-23 00:10:52 +0000 UTC]

Look what happened with BAKART's name!
must learn to be careful with the punctuation!

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Defiant-2-the-End [2011-03-22 23:51:46 +0000 UTC]

The best so far.

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to Defiant-2-the-End [2011-03-23 02:28:09 +0000 UTC]

Bakart is really truly amazing!

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Sirdan87 [2011-03-22 23:30:54 +0000 UTC]

Wow...very intense.

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to Sirdan87 [2011-03-23 02:27:37 +0000 UTC]

That's what I said when I first saw this image.

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Sirdan87 In reply to Soviet-Superwoman [2011-03-23 03:02:18 +0000 UTC]

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LoneStranger [2011-03-22 23:20:06 +0000 UTC]

Dang...

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Soviet-Superwoman In reply to LoneStranger [2011-03-23 02:27:14 +0000 UTC]

...Nabit?

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LoneStranger In reply to Soviet-Superwoman [2011-03-23 06:38:53 +0000 UTC]

Eh, probably not entirely.

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