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Literature Text
Prologue
The smoke from inside the camp rose into the cloudless sky. The Russian winter was over and so began construction of a large building complex in the middle of the Gulag. The prisoners marched into the courtyard for their daily briefing. The long line stretched from one end to the other. Except for one, who was being escorted out by guards. A red Porsche 928 who went by the name Viktor.
"Get your dirty tires off me! I will not come out here!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. He threw his tires around that were held down by boots. The guards threw him onto the ground in front of the camp commander who glared at him.
"This…..car….makes a good example of what you DON'T do in the Gulag, you don't rebel, you don't talk back you don't force us to put these boots on you" He spit on Viktor's hood as the Porsche snarled at him.
"You're going to pay for that you Russian piece of shit!" he leapt up to grab the bumper of the truck that stood before him.
"As long as you obey, you will survive" the guard drew his club and smacked him on his hood, breaking his light on the drivers side. He was grabbed once again by the guards and throw into solitary confinement. The door slammed shut behind him as he tried to turn on his headlights but only saw from his right side.
"Those bastards" he softly said seeing that his headlight was broken all the way "They're going to pay…"
The smoke from inside the camp rose into the cloudless sky. The Russian winter was over and so began construction of a large building complex in the middle of the Gulag. The prisoners marched into the courtyard for their daily briefing. The long line stretched from one end to the other. Except for one, who was being escorted out by guards. A red Porsche 928 who went by the name Viktor.
"Get your dirty tires off me! I will not come out here!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. He threw his tires around that were held down by boots. The guards threw him onto the ground in front of the camp commander who glared at him.
"This…..car….makes a good example of what you DON'T do in the Gulag, you don't rebel, you don't talk back you don't force us to put these boots on you" He spit on Viktor's hood as the Porsche snarled at him.
"You're going to pay for that you Russian piece of shit!" he leapt up to grab the bumper of the truck that stood before him.
"As long as you obey, you will survive" the guard drew his club and smacked him on his hood, breaking his light on the drivers side. He was grabbed once again by the guards and throw into solitary confinement. The door slammed shut behind him as he tried to turn on his headlights but only saw from his right side.
"Those bastards" he softly said seeing that his headlight was broken all the way "They're going to pay…"
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