godlessCommie7's Channel

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Commie Talks About Video Game Violence godlessCommie7 26 views The first of our fire side chats in quite a while, comrades! After spending time playing a snacky violence-fest known as Killing Floor I found myself thinking about violenc...
Cryostasis Mash-Up godlessCommie7 20 views Finals are in full swing and all the time I should have spent playing Amnesia, lately, has been spent on other things. Here's a sweet little game called Cryostatis I've bee...
Commie plays Amnesia: The Dark Descent Ep.7 godlessCommie7 6 views We escape the wine cellar and quickly realize that now that I'm out of doors to go into I might have to actually think. And my mouse puts up a fuss because I'm jerk enough ...
Commie Tries Out Bastion godlessCommie7 16 views After all the good things I heard about Bastion (Yahtzee Croshaw himself had only a few bad things to say about it), I just had to check it out. Seemed like a good time to ...
Commie Checks In godlessCommie7 4 views Seeing how everything's going on the YouTube front after much grinding on the academic and dragon front. Hope everyone likes Starfox 64, I forgot how good it was! Expect m...
Commie plays Amnesia: The Dark Descent Ep.6 godlessCommie7 14 views We descend into the wine cellar and wet ourselves in fear while whimpering like little girls.
Commie plays Amnesia: The Dark Descent Ep.5 godlessCommie7 8 views Daniel moves forward in the castle
Commie plays Amnesia the Dark Descent Ep.4 godlessCommie7 14 views Charting new territory, gabbin' about Dracula, and haunted by a collection of pianos!
Commie plays Amnesia: The Dark Descent Ep.3 godlessCommie7 10 views The Englishman's terrifying adventure pulls him deeper into the castle, and I contemplate time travel.
Commie plays Amnesia: The Dark Descent Ep.2 godlessCommie7 8 views Daniel equips his mightiest weapon: A lamp!

About godlessCommie7's channel

Created by

godlessCommie7

Latest Activity

Feb 10, 2012

Date Joined

Feb 11, 2008

About this user

Back in the days when I was a little girl in Soviet Russia, I used to live just outside the village of Pskingrasd. It was a pleasant ramble of shacks and huts nestled in the cliffs of the east, just above the jungle. Each day I'd climb down the sides of the rocks and boulders to play on the edge of the dense foliage, and in the swamps. I climbed up trees, swung on vines, and talked with the Indian Gavials that would lazily meander by. It was a delightful area of a war torn country, with no exposure to the hardships that plagued Moscow and other cities. That is... until that one day...
One day while clinging to a thin tree, I heard a bazaar sound. Something familiar, like footsteps in the mud. I turned around to see a man, an American, standing in front of me, clad entirely in camouflage right down to the paint on his face. My tiny lungs filled with air as I prepared to scream, but at the last minute, he clasped a firm hand over my mouth.
"Don't be afraid."
He said in flawless Russian.
"I'm a CIA operative, only hear to learn; not hurt anyone. I know this might seem scary to someone as small as you, but you need to keep the fact that we met a secret, okay?"
I looked up at him contemplatively, and for a second I almost agree.
"Wait." I told him.
"I won't tell anyone, but I want to come with you. I want you to take me to the other side of the iron curtain."
"That's impossible!" he said.
"Maybe, but the very fact that you're here is a violation of international law. If you were exposed your government would deny knowledge to prevent Khrushchev from becoming belligerent. Really, who wouldn't be angry that they were having spies invading their country. And you, Mr. CIA would be left to the mercy of either the jungle, or the care of the KGB who would eventually come to pick you up."
I have to say that I was a smart little kid.
The agent looked at me aghast. He knew it was all true, and that he had no choice in the matter at this point. He'd been painted into a corner by an eight year old. His continence shifted to desperation. His brows furrowed, and it was clear he was trying frantically to think of a response. We stood there, ankle deep in warm mud for several seconds, never breaking eye contact.
Finally, he sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he was looking to the left, over my shoulder. He stared into the distance for some time, but my vision stayed locked on his face. That is until, he squinted his eyes, and a look of shock and surprise crossed his face. I whirled around to see what he spotted.
Nothing.
I glared, and turned around to meet him again, but I wasn't met with an American. I was met with nothing. Not a man. Not an American. Nothing left behind. Not even footprints in the muck. He was gone without a trace.
And there I stood. I felt like I stood there forever - betrayed, and ignored. Left with only the feeling that my stomach had been cut open, and my guts had fallen out; hearing only the chitter of swamp frogs, and the hard slaps of the gavials tails.

Age

Country

United States

Occupation

Boar Hunter

Companies

Bristle Back Skinning Co.

Interests

Video games, internet, metal, drum n' beat, hip-hop, governments and power systems, conspiracies, exploitation and liberation, girls, grizzly bears

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