Found this bio I made for Zlatomir's GD app and I still like how I decided to narrate it. Not fully aligned with his w&w story line, but I tried to keep as many parallels as I could.
’It was a small house on a farm, only one room and a kitchen. I had to share a bed with my younger brother and sister, and the winters were terribly harsh as the cold easily swept in through the cracks. I remember we had to wake up around five every morning to do chores. Had to use a knife the length of my forearm to peel potatoes and injured my palms countless times. It was about a three-kilometer walk to school, and we had to be back home to call in the oxen before it got too dark.’
’There was this very small boy who had joined us at the military service, along with his older brother, I believe. They came from a family of farmers, probably allowed the younger son to be sent away to save money. I didn’t think the younger boy would make it, terribly timid and withdrawn, that one. Thought he would die in the trenches.
Though, to our surprises, he showed to have a knack for solving puzzles and could reassemble firearms. Not only that, but he had an uncanny marksmanship as well. With handguns especially, but he made a really nice sniper too.’
’If you ask me, he was stubborn and opinionated about anything practical. Almost impossible to make him listen to a second opinion. At the same time, he was always very secretive about his life and personal thoughts, hard to really know where you had him. Hard to know why he left the army to become a lawman. A strange choice, he seemed suitable on the field to me.’
’I was in in the same police squad as him, both sergeants. I remember our first day together, and he didn’t say a word to me. I didn’t think he was too happy about the team, that’s why he was quiet. But as time passed, I realized that we were planting seeds all along. We offered bribes to gain favors. We wrote fraudulent reports to frame others, and we even committed sequential murder, deliberately targeting smaller politicians who were in favor of an imperialist state. Novac must have known we shared values, otherwise he wouldn’t have pulled us into this mess. He knew we were hungry for this kind of corruption and sabotage as well.’
’Oh, Zlatomir… we met 1915, both of us had arrived to the U.S almost a year prior. I had migrated from England and he from Croatia. Terrible political climate and poor conditions. Too much war. I can’t imagine that… living in a war zone. I understand why he left.
I know most didn’t quite understand him, he was always rather difficult and he didn’t have much finesse with his words or voice. But I dunno… I always felt like I saw things in him others didn’t. Small things that spoke volumes of him. I saw his tenderness and people don’t really believe me when I say he’s really sweet. Sweeter than they can imagine. It didn’t matter to me, we fell in love and started a family. And I loved him. I still do. Always will, even though I have come to understand that he does terribly deeds at work. I can see it on his face. I can see he doesn’t really like it. I can see him suffer. But did he see me suffer, or did that only strike him when I told him so?
...
I had to let him go.
Not because I stopped loving him, but because for my own sanity, I couldn’t stay with a man who only knows how to do his job if he ends a life. It’s for our daughter’s safety too…'