Russia America Countryhumans Novels & Stories

Russians are so done having to prove ourselves to the world that we're nice people. I for one never attack there's no need to. As for Luca I told him no 3 times and he attacked I finished the war he wanted more Sure, temperamental is what one can say, but barbaric is a tad much. America is a breeding ground for serial killers, hell the Italians are at the top of the hierarchy of the mafia, why because I surely think it's not for being nice. So now when we Russians fight back harder we are the barbarians "Good he's awake," the boy that picked me up last night says. Well now I'm slightly aggravated and bored

But no matter what it is, I will still maintain our ways of going for experience. Three hours after I decided to go with the flow, we landed, and I left like others while looking around with curiosity as it was my first time coming to Russia. Day ran like cheetah and I succeeded in booking a hotel room for a month to stay in as I don't know how long it will take me before figuring Russia out. The information I have with me is so shallow and would not help at all. And the fact that Russia has as much control over the Russian Mafia as we have in the United States, there's no different than exposing me if I want to inquire about information from a Mafia here. For the first time, I realize how d

"They have you convinced there are few people left in the world. It's not true. We've had communications from Australia, the UK, and parts of Russia. The U.S. and Canada are not the only countries to survive. There's also a large population in Mexico." I'm stunned. Of all the things I've been told by King-how the hellhounds originated and how the Federation has tried to kill him numerous times, the Federation enticing the hellhounds to kill humans is by far the most outrageous. If this is true, my entire analytics job has been a lie beginning with the information they've fed me for years. It's too much.

I swallowed the painful lump forming in my throat, and Liza covered her mouth with widened crystal blue eyes. “What’s wrong with people?” She gazed evenly between Brody and I in disbelief. With her back against the wall, Brody folded her arms and sighed helplessly. “You’re in their world now, Francine. I’m not saying it’s right...because it’s not. But this is what I mean when I tell people the US is a pretty great place to live. Your girlfriend has called Russia her home her whole life. It’s not going to be an easy choice to leave everything she knows behind...but I agree. I think you should keep trying...because Russia doesn’t accept her. And that’s sad....but it’s the truth.” She stated gr

Dani chose to be oblivious to many things where the family business was concerned, but she knew enough to know her father had to be in dire straits to start dealing with the Russians. Dani chewed on her thumb. She had to come up with a game plan. Perhaps steal a car and drive far enough to get in contact with her father? She didn’t know a single word of Russian, but it was the largest country in the world, wasn’t it? Surely there were plenty of places to hide… The door opened. Dani almost jumped as Alexei entered the room. He was still wearing the same suit sans the jacket. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.” He eyed the tray of tea by the window. “How do you find the accommodations?”

I asked gripping her ass earning another smile from her. "Because you don't listen," she mumbled as Jason entered the room once more moving onto the bed, laying beside us. "Did you see the video with the chipmunk and the dog?" He asked earning a laugh from us both, at his weird taste of comedy. "How was dinner?" I asked remembering that I didn't get a response earlier. "Amazing," he replied and she smiled leaning over pecking his lips before pulling away. "I wanna play a game," Cassi announced as Jason reached over grabbing her ass, making me smile.

But it was the end of my misery, because that night, this human sparked life in me once again. Just one human. My human, Victoria. The END.

“Fuck no, they’re horrid. The people I’ve met here are much better. Where I’m from, people will smile in your face and poison the water you drink from. I left that place and I’m never going back.” He looks puzzled for a moment, then nods. “I see. Back in Russia, we had this image of the West. It was the land of opportunity, no matter where you went. The countryside had these hug crops with cotton and corn, and the cows would be out grazing all day. The farmer would always be resting under a tree, chewing a long piece of wheat. I guess we thought everyone was so rich they didn’t have to work.” “That’s wild,” I mumble, trying to figure out what preconceptions I have of Russia that are outrageo

"Without having to work? I don't know if you saw-" "Yes. I can read. Cuba and Russia are the cheapest options. Russia is the best at bucking extradition requests and for a higher quality of life. Your five hundred graphs and charts are clear." "Oh, good." I sit up straighter, cross my legs, and rock back into my chair. "Privyetto Russia, then?" "Not a chance. Russians are snakes in the grass. I'm not going there." "The Moskovs aren't even real Russians. That'd be like calling you and Nolan Italian."

In that case, the people were no longer the people, and the country was no longer the country. "You had to let everyone see that America still had backbone!"