//------------------------------// // my Pushka // Story: My little Pushka pony // by ru771an //------------------------------// A/N. For any of you are wondering. I know the guy known as "Nexus", from here on (13th August) this fic will be no longer be based on his life. And yes, everything that happened is true.... I also aplogise for the short length of the chapters so far. The next ones are going to be at least 20% cooler too!. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 13th August 2012. I walked down the long shifting corridor that led to my current destination, I passed numbered rooms where tests were being carried out on armour and gun penetration. “Captain”. A pair of off duty Sargent’s saluted as I walked passed. I walk extremely fast, its been noted by many that in a sprinting race, all I have to do is to walk to win. In this case, the pair of Sargent’s thought I was out of ear shot when they started talking. “Did you hear about Captain Nexus?”. One of them started the conversation off, trying to whisper by holding a hand of his mouth. I presume they were looking at me. “No”. The second one replied. “He’s stopped drinking”. I could hear something like glass breaking on the floor, I guess the second one had been carrying a glass bottle. “Wow”. “That’s right, I haven’t seen such a dangerous guy in a tank before”. That was true, I am starting to get slightly unstable now. I think Pushka regards getting me off alcohol as a bad experiment. Anyway I continued into the medical section of the sprawling complex that consisted off numerous barracks, tank depots and other places that I never bothered to visit. This medical check was a routine one. I have to admit that the stress of managing to many men in one job, looking after a daughter and trying to remain sane with any alcohol was starting to get to me. It was difficult to focus on one thing for more than a few minutes, after that I would start to develop a twitch that lasted for hours on end. I sat down on one of the chairs available and gestured to a waiting nurse, told her who I was etc. “The medical team will be with you soon”. She said, smiled partly and then disappeared into a doorway that I never knew existed. “Soon”.Was in fact a hour long wait, I sat there and twiddled my thumbs so to say. By then I had gotten a nervous twitch in my eye which flickered so much it was difficult to see properly. “The team will see you now captain”.The same nurse called out and pointed at a doorway that was familiar for once. It was the place where I first discovered...well officially at least that I am prone to extreme anger and violence. Good job I never told Pushka about that. I stood up and stretched a little, letting my body out of the sitting position it had been in for some time. I began to walk down the corridor that led to the medical place. Inside I found about six people there, all with stern expressions. “Lie down”.The first one said. The last thing I remembered was a mask being placed on my head and the world went black as a gas filled my lungs. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Three hours later. I woke up some time later, I felt like a chainsaw had just split me in half. Knowing the reputation of these people,they might have just done that. As soon as I checked my head was screwed on propely, I looked down my body to see that my uniform was still on. Although my cap and medals were sitting on a table. Standing over me was one of those “doctors” with a clip board. Seeing that I was awake. He prepared to say something. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”. He asked, not concerned or anything about how I could take this. Like a typical Russian I suppose. As always I wanted the bad news, made the good news sound better than it was usually. “Ill have the bad news first”. I replied, not bothering to check that the doctor was eyeing me. “Well I don’t know how to say this Captain”. “Say it”. “You are going to die”. “Yeah I kind of know, I am in the military after all”. “No...not be a bullet, or a loved one that hates your gut. Not even if you are crushed by one of your own beloved tanks. I am sure of it Captain Nexus, I am sure that the thing that will kill you. Slowly and painfully, is yourself...13rd August 2022, that s when your heart will fail....I’m sorry”. “What s the good news then”. “You will be able to continue you duties until the day the die, and here the paper work along with any other information”. With that I left, broken spirits slightly. Of course I wasn’t bothered by my imminent death. It was the fact that really, where would my little Pushka go?. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Night time streets. I walked home for once. Didn’t take the bus, I would usually use a bike or jog from job to home. And of course taking a car was out of the equation. I still have my fear of cars to be fair. The city where I lived, or at least the outskirts were usually quiet and devoid of life at this time. The drunks would be in the pubs now and the general public would be at home. This was a perfect chance to gather my thoughts. “I am going to die”. Came to mind, that’s all I had left in me. 10 years. A heart problem:Even my dad who died this year after attaining some age beyond 50 never had a problem with his heart. Neither did anyone in my family’s long history ever have a heart problem. I must be the first. Its probably fates way of saying “fuck you”. I am not going to tell Pushka about this though, she would be better off not knowing. Ill dump these papers in my room and leave them there for ever. “Hey look guys,its a “Captain” on patrol”. A rough voice that sounded like a typical Moscow teenager broke my chain of thought. I spun round on my heels and faced directly into a gang of teenagers. “What the hell do you idiots want?”. I growled, in daytime or light my facial reaction when I get annoyed is enough to kill. Unfortunately it doesn’t work at night. “We would like you to dump your uniform and give us your wallet...please”. The ringleader of the group crackled and so did his little group of followers. They did not impress me. “Make me”. I remarked and cracked my knuckles, the sound of bone on muscle echoed. “Fine, if we have to batter you to death then so be it”. The ringleader chuckled as the entire gang (including himself) launched themselves at me. This pathetic attempt did not impress. The first one that met my fist was hammered six times in a row until I head butted him and broke something in his thick skull. I killed that one. The second jumped on my back and tried to lock my arms. I used the back of my skull as a “backwards headbut” and broke his nose, he ran away crying with blood down his face. He survived. The third and fourth decided to get smart and attacked from the left to me, and to the front. The one of the let was greeted by the hardest punch I had ever thrown. The moment my knuckles connected was his ribcage, something inside of the barstard snapped. I wasnt finished as I stomped on his ribs, I think they were broken as I felt something mushy pop. I killed him. The fourth hang back as the ringleader joined the fight. The “leader” tried to 1v1 me, he came close using some kind of karate style fighting. Hand chopping the air and some kind of fancy punch. In response to this sillyness I kicked him in the face and watched as my heavy boot connected with a eye, the metal rim went straight through and piereced his skull. I killed the ringleader. The last and fifth was soon reducded to a dead hulk within seconds. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 2016. When I look back at the killing, I sometimes think to myself if it influenced fate. Four years on and six to go, I was at least promoted to colonel of my own battalion of tanks. We had the new model, the T-99 which had entered service before schedule. Living with Pushka was better, we went out most nights and enjoyed ourselves. She was a lot bigger now. Maybe up to my cheast in hight. Pushka loved the sights of Russia, the Kremlin and the snowy Siberia where we live was a fantastic place to look at. Whens it not freezing deathly cold of course. Now I think about it, what did influence fate?. A few evenings later, I had gotten back from my job, unlocked the keys as usual to find that there was no excited Pushka to greet me. The house was dark and felt like something was missing. Even the atmosphere in my home knew that. I did start to panic but the logical side told me that she could be sleeping. So I went upstairs to her bedroom, it was the same room that greeted me as it did this morning when I woke her up like the typical teenager. Problem was, she was gone. I checked the bathroom, nothing there. I checked the other rooms of the house. Nothing there. I checked my bedroom. All I saw was a few papers lying about and a newspaper article about a murder a few years back.... WAIT. The papers were about my death. She must have seen them. The newspaper was about my murder of that gang. She must have worked that out too. She thinks Im a murderer, she thinks.....I dont know. My daughter is gone. My Pushka is gone. I didnt believe it at first. I checked the garden, I check the phone history. I checked everything and still she was nowhere to be found. I cried for the first time in my life, I never cried. I sat down and cried, cried like a parent who just lost their only child. I rang my rich friend. I told him to get the travel schedule going. For the next three years I was all over the world trying to find her. I never stopped looking, I didnt eat much either in my quest to find her. For three long years I left no stone unturned. I never found her. Never. “Daddy do you like my clothes”. Yes I love them. “Daddy why do you drink?”. Because daddy needs to drink, he needs it to be happy. “Daddy do you love me?”. Of course I love you, you are everything I have. “Daddy will you ever leave?”. As long as I breath Pushka I will be here for you. “Daddy I really think that you should stop drinking, and you scare me sometimes”. Wait. “Daddy, are you always sad?” “Daddy why cant you ever spend a day with me?”. “Daddy I dont like to be on my own”. “Daddy arnt there any others of my kind of play with?”. “Daddy, why are you always so angry?”. Pushka come back. Come back. Please....... Its August 12th 2022. Six years since Pushka left. I am a dark and unforgiving man now. We are going to start a offensive against China tomorrow. I swear tomorrow looks familiar?.