Black rose

Wind blew hard outside. Its noise made the ones inside the ale house to touch up their coats and blankets. It was warm, but ruthlesness of the steppe was only a couple of feet away from them.

Then, the door opened. Or crashed open, would be better term, nearly tearing it off its hinges. Snow and freezing air stormed inside, like skeletons dancing around the room. All the eyes looked angrily at the one shameless enough to take the warmth away.

A small statured man strode to the table. Tall, black fur hat looked amusingly big for the man, being nearly as tall as he was. He had worn army overcoat, black trousers and boots needing some care. On his belt hang a cavalry saber, as worn as any other gear. His dark hair was wild, and boyish smirk glowed from those hollowed cheeks.

- What you'd have? asked the ale house keeper.

- A pint wouldn't make harm.

Keeper opened a valve and poured beer to the wooden pint. Guest took a long sip and smiled even more.

- Where are you coming from, keeper asked.

- I'm coming from Kyiv.

- Oh, I've heard there are those...those communists, bolsheviks and whatever. Bandits they are! Awful people, truly awful!

Guest just nodded keenly, mumbling something acceptable and sipped more of his beer.

Keeper and others started to relax. Guest seemed not to be one of them, dreaded communists, despite of his wild looks. Discussion started again, room began to be warm.

- Hey, you, go to feed the horses! You lazy little bastard! keeper suddenly shouted. A young, thin as leaf stableboy jumped into air and ran past the keeper, who slapped him to cheek.

- Oh my... These times, these times... World is being crazy, people rise against their kings and rulers... End of the world is near, hear me saying. I work my ass off so that those kind of lazy bastards can drink and whore around! keeper said behind his walrus moustache. Anger made his whole thick body to shake.

Time flew by, and the guest sipped last drops of his pint.

- Would you like more? keeper asked.

- No, thanks, this is enough, guest said.

- One kopek, keeper said. His voice was firm and his palm was demanding.

The guest smiled cheerfully and put his hand into the chest of his overcoat. He pulled it back, but instead of wallet he pointed a Nagant to the keeper's head and pulled the trigger.

The keepers corpse dropped like a sack of potatoes.

People jumped up horrified and looked at the guest.

- Comrads! This is the beginning of the new era! Mother-Anarchy has taken you to her warm comfort. This all, this all belongs to you now! It belongs to the people! Hail the revolution! Hail the workers and peasants! Dead to the kings, bourgeois and communists!

He was Nestor Makhno.