Katya, Katya, Katerina: The Pastebin

Katya, Katya, Katerina Pt.1

    When the sun broke above the horizon an early Christmas morning, Shane woke up with the sunlight beaming through his window. It was incredibly bright, and he immediately winced as the beams blinded him with god-rays.

"Fuck, didn't close the curtains." He got up, wiping his eyes as he went to the bathroom, going about his morning routine.

He still lived with his parents, being all of 19 years old, and his brothers were already downstairs waiting for said parents to come down to open their presents. Shane, however, took his time. He never did ask for much this year, unlike a decade ago when his lists to "Santa'' included everything from an AT-TE playset to an Xbox 360 like his still best friend had, the latter of which he actually did get. He brushed his teeth, took a shower, and got properly dressed for the inevitable trip to one of his relatives houses for traditional Christmas Day bullshit. After all that, he finally made his way downstairs, where his two younger brothers were pacing around waiting for their parents still.

“Morning Guys.”

He was far more awake then he had been, and fortunately the half SOLO cup of Vodka he downed before they had left his aunt's house last night hadn’t given him a hangover; he sat down and waited, looking over the wrapped presents. An assortment of red and white colored wrapping paper stared back at him, covering an assortment of boxes, what was obviously a bag of some kind, and...a long...something. He couldn’t quite tell what, and he couldn’t immediately tell who it was meant for at a glance, but for some reason, his eyes were drawn to it. It looked a little over 3 feet tall, though other than that there was little else to make out.

    Eventually, his parents made their way down the stairs, and thus the great rending of wrapping paper could be heard throughout the house. An hour passed, and he had opened up everything with his name written on it, and while he didn’t dislike anything he got, aside from a pair of shitty looking white boots, he was fairly content with his acquisitions from this year, and turned to bring his things to his room. He was stopped by his dad.
“Shane, isn’t there anything else there with your name on it?”

He looked back at his father confused. “No, nothing else, just the stuff for you and mom.”

His dad looked back over to the long, still wrapped gift leaning on the back of the wall. “I’m pretty sure you’re forgetting one last thing, Shane.”

On that, he looked back at what his own dad was looking at, and walked back to get it. When he touched it, he knew immediately that it was something he’d been asking his parents about for a long, long time. Ever since their backyard was broken into, ever since he had learned about the existence of what a Gheist was from his grandfather. It was a rifle of some kind, though with it still wrapped in paper, he couldn’t know what rifle it was. He sat down and ripped away at the paper like a man possessed, revealing a long, black sock looking thing over what was definitely a rifle. The large, red block print NRA emblasoned on the side made him roll his eyes a bit, muttering a silent “Fucking fudds” under his breath as he felt the rifle underneath. It was bolt action, he could tell from the bulge coming out from the side of it even before he felt it.

Eventually, after fingerfucking the thing through the sock, he removes it. His eyes are met with a weapon he was well aware of. It was no deer gun, nor a bubba’d milsurp piece. No, what he held in his hands was a weapon of war, used by those pushing invaders back into their land, spilling their blood. A weapon chosen of the /k/ube, that most holy of fictional deities. What he held, was a Mosin Nagant. It was most definitely a carbine of some kind, with a side folding spike bayonet. In spite of his want of a Nugget since his introduction to wider gun culture, he didn’t know exactly what variant he had.

He was, nonetheless, ecstatic at this gift, and after putting the weapon down gently, hugged his parents. After several minutes of continuous gratitude and speculating that this was the reason his mother didn’t want him buying a gun in the months leading up to this when she had been on board with the idea beforehand, he brought everything he had received back with him to his room, saving the carbine until last.

When he did bring it up, he placed the nearly 9 pound carbine onto his bed, and went through the rest of his things which he had placed on the floor, opening up box sealing tape with the AK pattern bayonet he had gotten months ago at a local gun show, when from behind him he suddenly heard a groan, to which he froze up at. He had closed and locked his door, no one else should be inside his room. Though, that being the case, then what was that behind him…

The thoughts racing through his mind ranged everywhere from burglar to invisible spooks, though not one of the more obvious answers to which was actually true. He slowly turned, knife in hand back to his bed, where laying there was the last thing he’d thought he’d see. The girl now on his bed was dressed like she had come out of enemy at the gates. She wore a helmet, looked to be an SSh-40, as well as one of those large padded jacket looking things he had seen conscripts in the winter wear. There was no doubt anymore as to who….as to what this was. A Waffegheist.

“W-what the fuck….” He stuttered out, quickly standing up as the girl on his bed too began to sit up. She stretched her arms, and only after taking her helmet off, revealing her light brunette hair, did she look at Shane.

The two locked eyes for a solid few minutes, though it felt far longer. He broke eye contact first, and was about to say something when he was cut off.

“Where…..where am I?” She spoke english, though heavily accented, much to Shane’s immediate relief.

He was impressed with the speed he was able to recompose himself after the initial shock of the situation wore off, and began to reply “You’re in the Unite-”

“I know what country I am in, what state?” She rolled her eyes, as if the question was at all obvious to him. After taking a deep breath, he began to respond again;

“New York. More specifically, Long Island. One of the few better places in this shithole sta-” She looked surprised, which caught him off guard. “New York City!?”

He was taken aback a bit. Did she only hear the first thing he said? “No, no not the city, we’re about an hour or two away from th-” He was cut off again.

“I have always wanted to go to the city! Old owner always talked about it around me.” She was completely ignoring him, which was starting to get on his nerves.

“Well, for now, that isn’t happening. You just showed up out of no whe-” Again, he tries to speak, and again he’s cut off by the Gheist on his bed. “Not from nowhere, new owner. I am your rifle, Mosin Nagant, M44 Carbine.” She looked rather smug rattling off her designation like that.

“Can I get a single fucking sentance in? Please?” He had enough of her constantly cutting him off, and he half yelled that out, trying to keep his voice down so that his parents wouldn’t come up to see him with a girl in his bed seemingly out of nowhere. She recoiled slightly at his raised tone.

“I...I am sorry. I am just excited. That is all.” She looked down, away from him. Was this some kinda emotional manipulation, was she actually sorry? Shane couldn’t tell, though the former thought might just be him overthinking shit. A lot. He takes another deep breath and replies to her.

“No, it’s ok. This shit’s just all new to me. Overwhelming actually. I get a rifle for christmas, th-” he’s cut off yet again. “Is only December though, i...oh, I am cutting in again.” Well that was better at least, he thought. He nevertheless continued.

“Then, that rifle turns out to be a God Damn Waffegheist. I have no fucking clue how I’m supposed to react to this, let alone how the rest of my family are going to react.”

He sat down on his bed, while the Gheist moved over, and then off the bed. She looked around the room. It was fairly clean, a bit of dust here and there but other than that not terrible. Shane on the other hand watched her. She looked about as tall as he was, though that big ass puffy coat thing she was wearing didn’t help with figuring out anything about really anything else. She had longish brunette hair, which went down to her shoulders, and green eyes. Overall, fairly attractive as far as Shane was concerned, but he also felt that considering the girl that was his rifle attractive was weird.

“So, carbine of mine, do you have a name, or are we gonna have to come up with one for you?” His question snapped her out of the attention she had been paying to the things around his room. “Hmm? Oh, no. I was never given a name, not by any of my previous owners. I suppose you could just call me by what I am.”

He shook his head. “Not a good idea. It’d work maybe if I was never going to take you out of the house, and if you weren’t a Gheist, but seeing as you are one, and this is New York, people are gonna think the guy calling the girl he’s with M44, or Mosin, is a fucking weirdo, that or call the police because I have you in public.”

“But, why would they call the police? This is America, everyone has gun here, no?” She looked back at him, genuinely confused. Shane, however, was fairly surprised she’d never heard about New York’s policy on Gheists, let alone guns in general.

“Oh my God, you really don’t know. Well, New York is a cesspool of gun grabbers and NRA aligned Fudd faggotry. Neither side appreciates nor acknowledges the fact that girls like you are genuinely alive. If I get the police called on me because you’re with me in public, then I go to prison, and you get taken away, and if you’re lucky sold at some state auction for Gheists.”

She stayed silent at that. Here, in this place she had wanted to go since she had heard about the city, she was seen as just someone’s property, as something to be feared. That she wasn’t wanted. That was a lot for her to take in at once, and Shane could tell.

“So you see why I’d want to stop that from happening. Sure there are ways of getting you actual residency here, so they’ll have to see you as what you are, but that’s a pain in the ass. Takes years.”

The Carbine nods her head. “I...I understand owner. Then, you wanted to name me, yes?” Shane nods as well. “Yep. That’s right. Any names immediately come to mind for yourself?”

She shook her head. “No, such a thing should not be left to me. I am your Carbine, so that honor will go to you, owner.” Shane thinks that over for a few minutes.

“Sasha? Nah, too stereotypical. Olga? No, even worse...Hold on, I got it. Katerina. How about that? I can call you Katya for short.” Now it was her turn to think it over. Having a name was a nice thing for a Waffegheist like her to have.

“I like it owner. Though, I would prefer if you kept it short. Katerina is too formal for a carbine like myself.” Shane stood up, and extended his hand towards her. “Then it’s great to meet you, Katya, and you can just call me Shane. If you started calling me owner in public, well, that’s a whole other can of worms…”

She took his hand, and shook it firmly. “Then it is also a pleasure to meet you as well, Shane.” She smiled, she could tell this owner was different from the other ones she had been with since she was sold off as surplus.

End Part 1.

Katya, Katya, Katerina Pt.2

An hour passed, and Shane had asked many, many questions, most of which Katya was more than happy to answer for him.

“So, where were you made? Izhevsk? Tula?” She thought the question over for a moment, trying to remember. It had been nearly 70 years.

“I was made in the Izhevsk plant in 1944. My first owner was an Efreitor, on his way to Berlin when I was given to him. We fought in Poland, and Germany, and before we knew it, we were in the capital itself.”


“Damn, in Berlin? So what happened to you after the war? I can’t imagine….much…” He trailed off as she started to look annoyed.

“Oh what happened after war? Well, let me tell you! They covered me in that disgusting orange rust preventive shit and threw me in a crate for decades. Decades! Do you have any idea what that is like?” She was visibly agitated by having to talk about the experience, so Shane decided to just drop it entirely.

“I don’t, and I won’t pretend to get it, but that’s all in the past. I’m not going to be throwing you in some box caked in cosmoline any time soon. Speaking of time…” He glanced over at his digital alarm clock. “...shit, I should have put on my other shit by now. It’s a miracle my parents haven’t barged in to ask where the hell I was.”

“Are you not already dressed Shane?” She looked him over, and indeed he was dressed. “Yes, for the most part I am, but I still need to find my damn-” He heard his mom yell at him for language from another room on the upper floor, to which he froze up. “Oh fuuuuuck.” He whispered, staring wide eyed at Katya.

Katya, for her part, was confused as to why Shane was acting like this. “What is the problem? Do...do your parents not know…”

He slowly nodded at her. “As far as I’m aware, they thought you were a normal rifle. I got no fuckin’ clue how they’re gonna react to you, and that’s going to hap-” He’s cut off with his mother opening the door to his room, dress shirt in hand and looking directly at the Gheist in the room.

The three passed glances between themselves. Shane to Katya and his mom, his mom to him and Katya, and Katya to Shane and Shane’s mother. His mother broke the silence first.

“So, she’s one of those gun...ghost things, Shane?” Shane sighed. “Waffegheist. Translation is spirit, not ghost, but yeah. This is Katerina.”

Katya finally settled her sights on his mom, and gave her a salute, to which Shane rolled his eyes at. “Da, I am your son’s M44 Mosin Nagant Carbine. I swear I will serve him well, and to the best of my abilities.”

His mother smiled. “I’m sure the two of you will get along fine. Be nice to your gun Shane.” She chuckled as she left the shirt for him and walked out. Shane stared at the still open door.

“Pulls all that crap, scaring the shit outta me and still doesn’t close the door all the way.” He lets out a deep breath, and goes to close the door. “And then you go the whole nine yards with the saluting and shit, hell I thought you were gonna call here Ma’am for a second.” He buries his hands in his face.

Shane told Katya she could go walk around the upper floor where they were for the minute it would take him to put the shirt on. If the neighbors saw some in full fucking Soviet late war Kit, he didn’t give much of a shit. She took that time to walk around every room she could find, which included Shane’s brother's room, his parents room, and a largeish bathroom.

After he had finished putting on his shirt, he walked out to find where the Mosin Gheist went, finding her in his parents room. “Yo, uh, so I’m not su-” He was cut off by her startled yelp.

“Shane! Why did you not make me aware you were here? You scared me!”

“I…..can see that. Regardless, I have no idea what you’re gonna be doing when we leave for my aunt’s house, so....yeah, I don’t know. And that’s not good because that’s kinda important!”

Katya looked a bit confused. “Am...am I not going with you?” Then it was Shane’s turn to be confused. “Are you? Hold on.” He walked out, and came back a few minutes later. “If….we have clothes that fit you, then yes. Apparently.” Somehow, he was more confused than he had been before.

Shane’s mom entered to help find Katerina some clothes that fit her, even though she insisted she wear the kit she had on. Shane, of course, left the room to go take care of other shit.

By the time the two saw each other again, Katya looked very different from what Shane had seen. She was dressed in dress clothes, and seeing her without her helmet was weird, but the most notable thing was her figure. Now that she was out of the bulkier clothing, he could see what she really looked like, and God damn, she was probably one of the more attractive girls he’d seen in a while. Being in community college didn’t exactly help with that, but still, the padded jacket hid a whole lot of her, not just her impressive bust.

“Well shit, you look like a whole different person Katya. I barely recognize you.” He gave a good natured laugh, and patted her on the shoulder. “But seriously, you actually don’t look half bad like that.”

She gave him a smug smirk. “Well, I must look nice for my date tonight.”

Shane sputtered and took a step back. “I’m sorry, what the fuck?” She responded with her own laugh. “I am Kidding ow-I mean, Shane. Your mother wanted me to say that.”

He looked off to the side. “Yeah, and give me a fucking heart attack. We just met today, and already mom’s pulling this kinda shit. No better than my dad…” Shane walked back into his room, with Katya following behind him.

He sat on his bed, and Katya sat next to him. Shane, of course being the little autist /k/ommando he is, moves aside a bit. “So yeah, you really do look different outta that. Your kit leaves a lot to the imagination.”

Katerina blushed a bit at the comment. “S-shane! You should not talk like that. It is inappropriate, especially to a girl you just met today.” She said that last part in a mocking tone, mimicking how he had sounded saying that.

“That’s entirely not how I meant it, but no, you’re right. That was fucking retarded to say.” He was lying of course. He entirely meant it in that way, and had let that slip out. Thankfully, his rifle found that to be satisfactory. “Well, I suppose you did not mean it like that. And you are right, it is very covering. Though I like it. Does not draw the gaze of stupid men who think they have a chance with your weapon.” She again gives him a confident smirk.

“Ok now that was trying to provoke another reaction out of me.” She shrugged. “Was funny the first time, might as well try again.”  Shane rolled his eyes, and pulled out his phone, deciding to burn his time on social media instead of with the now suddenly “jokingly” flirty Gheist. Just what the hell did his mother put into her head?

Katya got bored of just sitting there, and laid down next to him. “So what are you doing now?” Shane looked next to him, into the bright green eyes of the Gheist next to him. “On instagram. Checking what my friends are doing.” She gave him a confused look, just one to add to the list of confused looks he had been getting today. “Ok, what is an instagram? Is it a computer phone thing?”


“Interesting way of putting it, but yeah. It’s a social media app. I barely use it, but I look at shit on it from time to time.” She nodded along to his explanation, and sat back up afterwards. “So, when are you going to use me?” Yet another baiting comment, but one he’d counter with his own.

“Like any good child of God, I don’t do sex before marrage. So you’ll be waiting a while.” He smirked as she was the one sputtering and red in the face. “You Cyka! You knew what I meant! What is the matter with you?”

Maybe, just maybe that was a bit too far. “Sorry, yeah, that was a bit much, but that’s a great question, I don’t know. All depends on when the next time I’m free, have ammo, and when my dad lets me use his car. God knows working retail I’ll never get a fucking car of my own anytime soon.”

She sighed, trying to regain her composure. “I-I see. That is unfortunate then. I suppose I would not be able to take this form at one of your ranges either?” Shane shook his head. “You can, it’s one of the few places you can in public actually. Well, as public as a range gets.” He paused for a moment.

“Hang on. All that stuff just happened to fit you? The pants, shirt, bra, all of it?” She responded simply. “Bra?” Shane’s eyes went wide. “Nevermind then.”

“No, you are obviously trying to hide something, what do you mean?” Shane had tried to avoid the question, but obviously that wasn’t going to work. “What I mean is, are you wearing a bra at all?”

“I’m not. Why, is there something wrong with that? All the ones I tried on were too small.” She seemed not to care much, or at very least was hiding it. “Ah. I see. Nothing wrong with that, I guess.” “Then there is some anime tier bullshit going on.” He thought to himself, obviously not wanting to say that shit out loud. “Anyway, we got like, an hour to kill. Anything you wanna do in that meantime?”

“Let me think…” In that meantime, Shane started to put his things away. “Perhaps we can-” This time, Shane cut her off. “Watch shitpost videos on youtube! Great idea!”

“Shit...post? What is that supposed to mean?” Shane looked back at her. “Ah, that’s right, you’re from 1940’s Russia, where laughter and funny things were punishable by a life sentence in the Gulags. Now, come my rifle! Sit, and let me show you what kind of shit we find funny in current year!”

He pats a spot on his bed next to him, and started looking up shitty meme compilations, and for the next hour the two watched said compilations, with him having to explain some of the more obscure jokes to her. Eventually, his parents called for them.

“Alright Katerina, it is time for us to depart.” He puts away his phone, and hops off the bed, and she does much the same, they both walk down the stairs, and after introducing his rifle Waffegheist, they all depart for the Christmas day gathering.

End Part 2.

Katya, Katya, Katerina Pt.3

The car ride to Shane’s aunt’s house wasn’t very long, but by God he wished it was quieter. His brothers had been asking Katerina endless questions and it was starting no annoy the fuck out of him. Katya, on the other hand, was delighted to answer questions like “Did you ever kill anyone?” and “How old are you actually?”  Shane uttered silent thanks when they finally arrived.

He exited the car first, and jokingly presented his hand out to Katya, and was a bit surprised when she actually took it. She was, of course, smugly smirking, keying in Shane this was some attempt to embarrass him in front of his family. As such, he didn’t react at all, and the 6 of them walked into his relatives house.

Shane immediately went to greet his aunts, uncles, and grandparents, as did his brothers. Katya lingered in the back of the room, unsure of what to do, if anything at all. Shane brought her over to his grandfather, who without any prior inclination immediately knew what she was.

“So Shane, your parents finally caved in?” He asked, cracking a smile.

“Yep, this is Kater- Katya. She can tell you everything else. Trust me.” He returned the smile, chuckling a bit.

“Hello Sir. It is a pleasure to meet you.” She extended a hand, to which Shane’s Grandfather shook with a firm grip. “And if you must know, I am an M44 Mosin Nagant Carbine, manufactured and issued in 1944 from Izhevsk plant.”

“Then it is also a pleasure to meet such a storied rifle like yourself. Here I was thinking my grandson had finally gotten a girlfriend.” He chuckled at the joke, as did the Gheist. “Well, don’t count that out just yet Sir.” The mutual laughter intensified as Shane glared daggers at Katya.

After a few minutes of chatting between the two, Shane walked off to spend some time with his younger cousins, and to generally socialize. He was fortunate enough to have a generally pro-gun family, so when word passed around about what Katya was, no one batted an eye. Last thing he wanted was some screaming match between him and an aunt or some shit, because that would end in him trying to kick the shit out of them. He’d grown attached to his Katya, in spite of the constant teasing. On the bright side, he’d never fail a test about the eastern front of World War 2 with her around.

Eventually, as predicted, she made her way back over to Shane, who was in the middle of bitching about school with his 10th grader cousin.

“...and on top of that, the fucking teacher gav- Oh, this is Katya.” He motioned over to the approaching girl, and his cousin looked over as she waved to Shane. “Dude, that’s your gun?”

Shane nods, then turns to her. “Katya, this is James. He’s my cousin.” She gave him a handshake. “It is nice to meet you, James.” The cousin took her hand, and was surprised by the very firm grip he got. “Yeah, nice to meet you too. So, you’re really a gun?” She nodded. “An M44 Mosin Nagant Carbine. I was made during th- World War 2.”

James lit up at that. “Wow, really? That’s so fucking cool! Did you shoot germans and shit?” Katya nodded again. “Yes, I did. Not on my own of course, My first owner was a….what was the American rank?” Shane cut in. “A Corporal.”

“Ah, yes! A corporal. We fought in Poland and Germany, even in Berlin. Those were good times with him.” James listened intently as she talked about some of the battles she could remember, how her owner during the war took out a Panzer 4 with an anti-tank grenade, when he managed to stab an SS soldier with her bayonet and a few other stories.

The two walked off, leaving James behind. “So, did you two really do all that or was that just to impress the youngin?” He poked her with his elbow. “All of it was true. I have no reason to lie, Shane.” Shane was just ever so slightly taken aback. “Seriously? Hell was your kill count then?” Katya gave him a smug smile. “That is for me to know, and for you to find out…...or add on to.”

“If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to. Seriously. Self defense in New York is a fucking joke. Someone breaks into my house and threatens me, and you know what I’m supposed to do?” Katerina thinks for a bit. “Shoot him for that?” He shakes his head. “You’d fucking think, but no. I’m supposed to run away, like a bitch. Now granted, I’d take the fucker out regardless of the law because it’s bullshit, but still. It’s bullshit.”


They come to a couch, and sit down, with the Gheist sitting a bit to close for comfort, but if he aknowlaged that, she’d fucking win, and Shane would have none of that today. On the TV were those old stop motion Christmas specials, and he watched them for a little bit until he felt eyes boring into the back of his skull. He already knew it was Katya, so he didn’t pay much mind, until he felt something wet and finger-like try and enter his ear. At that point he tries slapping the finger away as both his youngest brother and Katerina burst out laughing.

“Hey, hey the hell’s wrong with you...two. Oh. Ok I expect that out of you.” He glares at his brother, then turns to Katya. “And you, why the hell didn’t you tell me he was gonna do that?”

The gheist raised her hands in mock surrender. “I thought it would be funny, is all. Sorry for not stopping him Comrade no-fun.” He giggles, and puts on that Goddamn smug grin again. Shane can do little else then sigh in defeat and turn to face her to make sure his brother doesn’t try and pull that shit again. His brother, in the meantime, gave Katya a high five, and fucked off somewhere else.

“Jeez….well, fuck it. Time for drinking.” He got up and left for the drink bar, and came back with a small glass of what looked to be vile capitalist sugar water, otherwise known as Coke. “I thought age to drink in America was 21? Did you not say you were 19?”

He gave her his own smug grin. “Yeah, if you’re a loser. And you said I was Comrade no-fun.” Caught by her own methods, she took the tease and moved on. “I thought you were getting alcohol. That looks more like soda drink.”

Shane took a sip, and put the glass down. “Rum and Coke. The only thing I drink straight is Vodka.” That peaked her interest. “Vodka you say? How about a little game then…”

Shane immediately knew where that was going. “Alright, what do I get if I win?” Katya thought for a moment. “I stop the teasing?” Shane shook his head, partially because deep down he liked it. “Nah, weak. Come on, something better.” The smug returned to the Gheists face. “Oh? Is that because you like the teasing?”

“No, I already said why. Come on gimme something worth possibly getting shitfaced over.” Again, she pondered the possibilities. “I’ll…..let you….kiss me!” Shane thought that over, knowing it’d be some quick cheek kiss or some other shit. “Alright, fine. But what about you?” What do you want out of this?”

Her answer was simple. “Take me to a range, first chance we can go.” At least it was something they both wanted then. “Alright. Get the vodka, but you take a shot beforehand to balance out the Rum and coke I’m having!” She got up, and came back a minute later, taking him with her to one of the side rooms with a table set up, with a bottle of Tito’s vodka and 2 shot glasses sitting atop it.

He took a seat across from her, and looked at the bottle. The amount of condensation and some specks of not yet melted frost on it signified it had just been taken out of a freezer. That was good for him, though he had little doubt he’d lose to his carbine.

“Alright, pour the first round. Let’s go.” Katerina obliged, and passed him his first shot. On a count of three, they both took it. Shane swallowed the drink as soon as it entered his mouth, avoiding most of the bitter taste. Of course, neither were so much of a lightweight that they felt anything on the first shot.

For the second, Shane poured both shots, filling them more or less the exact same amount in each before sliding the shot over the polished stone table to Katya, and again on another three count, they drank. This back and forth would repeat for quite some time.

By the third shot, Shane felt a warm feeling in his chest. By the sixth, his head was a bit fuzzy. All that time, Katerina looked like nothing was going on in her. Either she had a higher tolerance for drink, she was good at hiding it, or worst case, because she was a Gheist, it didn’t affect her at all. He really hoped it wasn’t the latter.

After another three shots, Shane’s head started spinning. He was drinking more than he ever had in far shorter of a time than he ever had. This was gonna end badly, but he would never hear the end of it from her if he lost, and so he pushed on, against his better judgement. Which in all honesty was probably the alcohol doing it’s work.

“Shane? Are you ok? Your face is all red and you do not look ok.” She was worried this may be a bit much for him, even if she herself was having fun. Shane looked her dead in the eyes. “Come on. One more. I can handle it.” Reluctantly, she obliged. He was her owner after all, and what he said went. Shane, on the other hand, could not handle the last shot, and after downing about half the glass, tried to stand up, and fell out of the chair, and onto the fortunately carpeted floor.

“Owwwww…….fuck that hurt…” Katya’s smug smile lasted only a scant second before her hand cupped her mouth. That was definitely a bad idea.  “Hey, Shane, are you ok?” She was concerned, seeing as this was probably the first time he’d ever been this drunk.

“Yeah, never better……...ok, no. I’m not. Help.” She sighed, and helped him onto a couch in the room. “You should have stopped earlier Shane. I am sorry, I did not realize you would get this bad.” Shane groaned, and Katerina sat down, laying him down next to her. “I am sorry…”

Shane looked up at her, past the obstacle that was her chest. “It’s fine, it’s fiiiiine. Really. That was all on me.” He smiled weakly, and slowly his eyes grew heavy, and eventually closed his eyes. She felt like she had messed up, but Shane didn’t seem like the kind of person who would hold it against her.

He looked a lot like her first owner, now that she got a look at him. Back nearly 80 years ago now, she had a childish crush on the man, but that never got anywhere. By the time she felt comfortable admitting how she felt to him, she was placed in a crate, sure she’d never see the light of day again. Shane was different from him, there was no doubt about that, but she was starting to feel... something towards him. For now, the teasing would just be that. Right?

Part 3 End.

Katya, Katya, Katerina Pt.4

Shane awoke the next day, the 26th of December with the worst headache he’d ever had. It quickly became apparent to him that he was hungover, and he groaned. He didn’t remember much of what happened last night, only vague flashes of being carried out of his aunt’s house, and being brought into bed. He tried flipping over in bed, only to find the Katerina’s bolt handle in his back.

“Ok....not doing that again.” Content to just stare at the wall, after some period of time he fell back asleep, though his hangover didn’t help that. The next time he woke up, he felt arms around him, and something, no, two things pressing into his back. This was probably the best he was ever gonna get with a woman, so Shane was content to leave her be.

Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever, and his brother knocked on the door asking for some stupid shit, and he only heard a quiet gasp before Katya went back to rifle form. He sighed, accepting the fact that shit would never happen again, and opened the door to tell his brother to fuck off. The hangover didn’t seem to be letting up at all, so he decided to try and put his time to good use.

He looked up a general guide on how to clean out a Mosin, and went to work with the cleaning kit that he had gotten with her yesterday. He really hoped she didn’t try to turn back while he was performing the cleaning, God only knows what would happen. It took him a while, and his hands were covered in grease and oil, but she was looking good as new, aside from some nicks in the stock that had presumably been there for decades.

He left the room to get breakfast, though it was already approaching 11:30, and brought back to his room a buttered bagel, as New York bagels were the only thing good about the state. Opening the door, he found Katya stretching out. Her physical appearance definitely was different, her uniform cleaner looking, her skin was absolutely glowing, some of the rust in the crevases of her helmet was cleaned off.

“Shane! Thank you so much!” The Mosingheist came over to him and gave him a bear hug, and he struggled not to drop the food he had just gotten for the two of them.

“Yeah, it’s no problem. Figured I’d keep myself busy while my hangover slowly kills me.” He chuckled at his own crappy joke and waited for her to let go of him, which she does, after which he hands her a plate. “Figured you might be hungry, so I got you something too.”

She took the plate from him, and sat on his bed, taking a few bites of the breakfast food. Shane followed suit, making sure to sit a comfortable distance away from her to not make this awkward, though he wouldn’t know that Katya couldn’t care less about how close he was to her.

“What do you think? Did I do a good job? You certainly look a lot cleaner then you did before.” She nodded, her mouth full of bagel. “Yes, you did a great job; for your first time~” She gave him that same damn smug smirk, but this time the way she said that put Shane on edge for some reason.

“Well, not like I could get any practice in beforehand. You’re my first rifle, and none of my other family members go out shooting a lot so I have next to no experience with cleaning.” The lewd joke only just barely flying over his head, Katerina sighed at the failure of the tease, and moved on.

“So, me feeling bad for doing all that to you, we are still going out shooting yes?” She smiled gently, and Shane shrugs. “I mean, not this week no. Got too much work, like, 9 hour days 3 times this week starting tomorrow. Shit’s gonna suck hard, but I’ll manage. At least my college classes don’t pick up for another whole month.


Katya looked down, a bit disappointed at that. “I see. That is not something you can change easily, right?” He nods. “Sorry, nothing I can do. At least I’ll have you to come home to, eh? You can regale me with war stories after a lenghty shift of either fuck all or disgusting amounts of work.” He laughed again, and Katya chuckled along with him.

“I am sorry to hear that, but I would be more than happy to tell you about my service to the Rodina, Shane.” Eventually, they finished their breakfasts, and he brought the plates back downstairs, he came back up empty handed this time.

“By the way, don’t feel bad about last night, that was all on me. I pushed myself too much, wasn’t your fault at all.” He puts a hand on her shoulder. “Ya got me? Not your fault.” She nods, still partially believing she still helped encourage him to drink that much, but brining it up now would be fairly pointless.