From hell. The secret diary of a Ukrainian held and tortured by the FSB in an occupied Kherson basement, now published by Mediazona

The first entry in the diary doesn’t have a date. Presumably, it was written on September 13, 2022.

I went to bed at three yesterday. The lightbulb had burned out, and the darkness felt suffocating. I decided to try and sleep. Successfully. Morning arrived at 8:30.

Yesterday, I noticed a voice coming from one of the cells. At first, I thought I was imagining things. But they have captured a child! Judging by his voice, he must be around 10–12 years old. This is so fucked up! A guard took him out, said they’d talk and he’d drive the boy home today. Yet, after talking, they brought him back to the cell. The kid’s voice was trembling. I can only imagine how stressful this is for him.

We remained without any light until 2 p.m. At that time, one of our operatives came in and switched on the lights.

Then, a new guy was brought in. Seven people in a four-person cell. I have a feeling someone will soon be transferred to a pre-trial detention centre [SIZO]. The cells are overcrowded. Four men held in one cell.

I’m worried about being transferred—or any of us. After all, we’re already familiar with everything and everyone here. Out there, it’s a whole new unknown. Plus, I won’t be able to go home from there. Although Serezha claims that visits are permitted in pre-trial detention. But is that really the case in Russia’s reality and restrictions? Personally, I doubt it. At least with the lights on, I can read. Without light, I wanted to read so bad.

Around 4 p.m., we were fed and taken to the bathroom. Today’s menu is just hardtack. But that’s better than nothing. In the evening, I lay down for a nap. I dreamt of mom. I wish I hadn’t slept. The dream left a bad residue, and I couldn’t snap out of it for a long time. Now, I might write a letter to ***. Maybe I’ll be able to get it to her. And once again, the main question remains: what awaits us tomorrow?

September 14

This morning was restless. The soldiers practiced their attack techniques from early morning. It lasted until 4 p.m. They took the child out for questioning. Then we heard his age. He is 14. Apparently, they got him for taking pictures of military equipment. That seems highly unusual for a young boy, doesn’t it? Even if they did find photos on him. Just take his phone, give him a good scolding, and let him go. It breaks my heart to think that he’s in such conditions, seeing all this, being treated this way, and still not released. Damn, he’s the same age as my ***.

A surprise awaited us in the evening. Around 5 p.m., they put a new guy in with us. He’d been standing there for a day, handcuffed to the grille. A car wash owner. Way too “soft.” Naive. He thinks there’s a shower here. But after hearing about the reality from us, he slumped.

Then the door opened, and the guards had their moment of clarity. Eight (!) people in the cell. They spoke among themselves, took out yesterday’s new man, and brought in another one. We turned out to know each other. He worked with *** at SETAM. Knows ***. He told us about Ukrainian news. We talked about ***. It turns out that *** tried to use his connections to get me out of here. Just like ***, he doesn’t understand why they arrested him. I think we’ll find out tomorrow. The “car wash guy” also has no idea why he’s here. As soon as I find out, I will certainly write about it.

September 15

Fervent Thursday. They took Kolya out of the cell at 7:30 a.m. Just yesterday, when they were taking us to the toilet, he said that instead of stool, he had blood. Last night, when he went to bed, I noticed a large, wet bloodstain on his gray sweatpants, near his butt. I told him about it. We advised him to tell the guards about it. But... He’s still standing, handcuffed to the grille, and will remain in that position until at least tomorrow.

After Kolya, they took Vova. They talked with him for about an hour, using electrical devices. When they brought him back, he said they would return for him in an hour. It seemed unlikely to us. But they did come back. And after that, they never returned Vova to the cell.

So there are six of us left. At least it’s a little easier to breathe. A new trend has started: they feed us and take us out to the toilet every other day. We have 2 litres of drinking water left for all of us. We ate the hardtack they’d brought to Kolya a few days ago as food.

I’m feeling dreary again because of my family. I miss ***, ***, and ***. I want to be with them so bad. The day was very tense. It seemed to me that they were coming into our cell all day long. And the atmosphere is terrible. The operatives are vicious. The air literally reeked of fear, violence, cursing, humiliation, and to some extent even death. But it’s more abstract than factual.

We are running out of provisions and cigarettes. No matter how much we try to save, they still run out. I feel like we’ll be smoking tea again soon.

Damn, how is grandpa doing? How’s mom? When will all this end? It cannot go on forever, can it?! And once more: what awaits us tomorrow?

September 16

Serezha was taken home this morning. To be honest, I’m almost jealous of him. I can imagine how the others envied me when I went out. The day passed uneventfully. They fed us Mivina. I was distributing provisions. A young, tubby, shy FSB officer with kind eyes led us out. He is the one who shows the most sympathy.

It might sound like Stockholm syndrome. But he treats us like human beings. He takes a couple of tea bags from us and asks if we can make tea (using the communal kettle) for the women who were also captured and are held in neighboring cells. You can tell that he feels pity for them.

Kolya was returned at lunchtime. They couldn’t get him off the grille because they’d lost the key to the handcuffs. In the end, they cut the handcuffs with hydraulic cutters.

Then they decided to show us their kindness. They opened the cell doors, and the soldier who freed Kolya tossed a box of crackers onto the floor for us. Like we were dogs. Well, thanks anyway. Even though Seryoga brought food, we can’t scorn such handouts here.

In the evening, we had bath night. We hadn’t bathed (washed ourselves) in over 10 days. Half a bucket of water per person. I washed my T-shirt and pants. At least there was some relief. The downside of these water treatments is the incredible humidity in the cell. I hope I don’t catch tuberculosis. Though you can catch anything here.

Today the AFU struck the MCA. I’m worried about my family. I cannot find a place to be. An investigator came by and showed a video of the aftermath. He said Ostriv and Tavrik were also hit. Fuck, I just hope everything’s okay with my relatives.

September 17

I went to bed at five. But couldn’t fall asleep until 9 a.m. As soon as I started dozing off, I heard handcuffs clanging against the grille. Two guys were hanging there. One of them started feeling sick. His “neighbor” was calling for help. Later, prisoners from all the cells joined in. They banged on the doors, the ceiling, and the pipes. This lasted for about an hour and a half until the guards arrived. The fate of those two remains [unknown]...

The entry from September 17 concludes here; the text likely continues on the following page, but it has been lost.

October 5

I haven’t written in the past few days for a number of reasons. We were without power for two days (only in our cell). *** mentioned Ofitserov (Crimea), and depression set in for me. On top of everything, a new batch of soldiers arrived. And those were three days of hell. I’ll give a brief overview of those days.

I think the new batch of soldiers arrived on September 29. We thought it was rotation. But as of today (since yesterday), they aren’t showning up at all. And their cells are empty. It’s unclear where the people went. But real beasts arrived. They terrorised the place. They beat and tortured us from dawn till dusk. Then they would get drunk and come back at night. They’d open the cells and beat us. They’d drag us out to the torture chamber. Screams rang out for hours.

I don’t know what Kolya (who was transferred from our cell) did to offend them. They beat him with particular cruelty, systematically. They dragged him out for torture twice a night.

On October 2, the senior military guy came. He beat him up again. He made his cellmates beat him up. Anyone who didn’t hit hard enough would suffer the same fate as Kolya. After lunch, he went back for Kolya. He beat him. He wrapped Kolya’s eyes and hands in scotch tape and told him to get out. Before that, there was the sound of a gun being racked. Kolya begged, pleaded not to kill him. The guard (presumably so Kolya wouldn’t scream) said they were taking Kolya home. I doubt it. His fate is unknown.

At night, the guards had their fun.

They would come into the cell and shout, “Glory to Ukraine.” The captives were required to respond in unison: “As a part of Russia.” Thank God, we haven’t seen or heard them for a couple of days now.

Just yesterday, we could hear the engines of military Ural trucks or something similar out in the courtyard. Apparently, they’ve left. The FSB guys are also packing up. Will everyone leave? I have no idea.

On Sunday (October 2), I also spoke with the tubby guy. I found out his call sign, it’s “Shtil.” I asked him to drive me home for my daughter’s birthday. But he confirmed our fears regarding Crimea. They’re taking us away on Thursday.

Yesterday and today they made us sign protocols. They wouldn’t let us read them. God knows what we’re signing. But what I managed to read shocked me. Witnesses to searches have appeared from somewhere. During the interrogation, I apparently said that my goal with the SBU was to destabilise the region. In short, they used all their imagination. I don’t know what awaits me/us in Crimea.

We were literally discussing this on Saturday night: it’s impossible to put us on trial. Turns out, it is possible. We thought they wouldn’t take us. Why? After all, Kherson is now part of the Russian Federation. There’s a court and a prosecutor’s office right here. But no.

We’ve all been depressed for three days. No one knows what to do. Torture again? Fuck, I haven’t forgotten that previous stuff yet. They beat us, drowned us, used electric shocks. I thought the worst was already in the past. The worst part is that they won’t tell us where they’re taking us. To which city? I made it home on Sunday. One of the operatives promised *** that they’d bring me over before sending me off. I brought some groceries. But no one’s eating them.

With Mika Golubovsky and Pavel Vasilyev.

Editor: Dmitry Tkachev