Author's Note
If its bolded, the language is german.
Ein Nazi-Erwachen
The air felt freezing cold, a small breeze hit my pale skin like hard slap. My body ached all around, begging for dear mercy. I felt the sun's vibrant rays against my eyelids. a clear sign telling me to rise up. But I was struggling to listen, right now I just wanted to lay there. Soon, I hear the sweet songs of birds flying overhead.
I lay there enjoying the sounds of nature.
Where in the world was I? What happened to me? Suddenly, it all came flooding back to me. I could remember every gruesome detail. The dark crimson color of freshly spilled blood. The lack of warmth in their stone cold corpses. The partially static filled news broadcast blaring loudly over every single radio. For every single second, a soldier was killed in combat. No matter on which side, thousands of lives were lost through out it all. I then recalled what kept me rooted through all those battled, HER. She was my strength, the one who pushed me to fight on, my light in a very dark side of the world. I didn't fight because of the Reich, I fight because for every inch, every yard, every mile we lose, they get closer to HER. I loved HER with every fiber in my body, down to my every cell. We wrote to each other every day sending cards and pictures between us, I always impatiently waited for her responses. We were due to get married the day I got back, it made me smile. Then one final memory caused me to snap open my eyes. I remember the burning sensation of the bullet ripping through my skin then tearing through muscle. I've... been shot.
The immense shock overwhelmed my mind. No, that can't possibly be right, I have to be on the battlefield. NO NO NO NO!! My eyes started to water immediately after, sorrow filled my very being. If I died then where did I end up. Heaven, for everyone I protected on our side? Hell, for all the lives I have ended defending our territory? Wait.. I have to be alive to be feeling emotions like these, right? Bu-but I can remember that soviet soldier walking towards my pain ridden body. Aiming his weaponry, and firing three more rounds straight into me. If I'm not there to protect her, then what am I supposed to do now? Am I going to be struck as a specter for all eternity, restlessly searching for my fiance?
My breath began to increase rapidly, both panicking and hyperventilating. Then a realization hit me like a spreading train. I started mindlessly screaming the thoughts echoing through my head, and wailing loudly. I started rolling along the ground, I was screaming bloody murder for the whole world to hear. I kept screaming "IT'S NOT FAIR!!!" until a strong burning sensation began building in my throat. But I ignored the growing pain, continuing to scream. I repeated those three word for what felt like hours had passed. Slowly but surely, my screaming died down turning into whimpering. I laid in a fetal position, quietly whispering 'it's not fair'.
I wiped my tears away, then closed my eyes. I thought only of one person, Her, my sweet beautiful angel. I started to think about the first time we met each other. We met at a common train station, I could never recalled what I was doing before I bumped into her. After a few awkward moments that followed, we introduced ourselves to each other. I managed to convince her to visit a neighborhood Café, we really got to know one another through those many hours. One special night I could recall instantly, the night we had made very passionate love to each other. That was all lost now, I mostly likely would never see her gentle toned face ever again.
"Damn my fucking life, why me?" Although softly due to nearly screaming my voice out, in reality I was boiling with anger.
After laying there for what felt like a whole hour, I finally sat up still feeling my throat burning. I honestly just wanted to stay down, I could barely find any reason to sit up. I wiped my eyes of salty tears using one of my arm sleeves. I slowly began to look around at my nearby surroundings, there were hundreds of destroyed homes. Now I know that I'm no longer in Stalingrad because were much smaller. Too small in fact. This place looked like a tiny village of some sort, like it was designed for a child's height in mind. But that wasn't something on my mind, I am in enemy territory. There would have been a rescue party in territory of my own, but right now I couldn't stay around to mourn. That would have to come later.
I stared at my unfamiliar surroundings for a little while longer, as I shakily got on my knees and took my army grade backpack off my backside. Inside this was everything I was going to need. If these were unknown lands, then I had to be prepared. My eyes stung severely when I was unloading my equipment out, but I didn't let it bother me to much.
The first items I detached from my backpack was my sleeping bag, shovel, and my water container. I put them in a single group together, these would be the items I depended on the most. After grouping them I opened my backpack again, this time I grabbed my trusty battle knife. I pulled the sharp tool out fully expecting it's worn appearance. You could tell just from looking at the item, it had went through many tough times. The wood in it's handle was scratched up beyond recognition, the crusty dried blood on the blade, and the layers of dry hardened mud that mostly covered the surface. I grimaced at the knife's somewhat poor condition.
When I find a clean water source sometime soon, I have to wash it hoping that some of this comes of without to much trouble. I sorted it into a different pile, careful to keep the blade pointed away from my body. The next thing that I took out was my P-08 Luger, it stood better than my knife. It was in remarkably well condition, the only thing noticeable was the name 'Dreck' graved into it's side. Looking at that name, always made me smile for the memory that came with it. I remember a close friend of mine, actually shot a moose dead in the eyes with this gun. Best god damn moose I had ever eaten in all of my life.
I placed my P-08 Lugar right next to my knife, I reached in once more to pull out three objects. Upon closer inspection, I realized these three were my potato mashers. They were relatively clean, only having slight dirt on each. I carefully set them aside next to my two weapons. Once I checked to make sure that I had taken everything out, I looked over my equipment again. I then realized that something was missing from the weapons pile. My Kar98k riffle.
I quickly looked around, until I spotted the riffle a few feet away from me. I stood up off my knees, and quickly went to grab it only there was something different about it. As I went to grab it off the ground, I was completely dumbfounded at what I saw. My Kar98k riffle, was in perfect condition as if it had just came out of the work shop. There wasn't a single scratch on it, not even a few small ones. I picked it up in my hands, feeling the familiar weight of it.
After studying over it, an idea popped into my head. I quickly walked over to my trusty knife, with riffle in hand. I grabbed my knife by it's handle, and began to carve Her name into my repaired riffle's side. Yes, this was pretty ironic in few ways. After carving into the side for a few minutes, I took a break to admire my handy work. Seeing that name mad me smile brightly. At least I now had something to remind me of Her in this situation
"... e received the package already, so why can't we depart now?" I turned my attention toward the direction of that voice. Whoever had said that spoke in the language of English. I could recognize that language anywhere, because my father took me to English courses after my mother left us. They were coming toward my general direction. That's bad news when your in unknown territory, they could be potential enemies. As swiftly as possible, I rushed to stuff everything I had laid in piles back into my backpack.
Despite having to accomplish this quickly, I had to be careful with the grenades in there. I grabbed my riffle, and stood back up from crouching down to carve Her name. I searched around rapidly looking for a place where I could hide. I finally spotted an old horse drawn cart that would hide me properly. I sprinted toward it as fast as I could to get behind the outdated wooden tool. I heard steps that were starting to get closer, and slowed down my breathing doing everything I knew to hide my presence.
"Because, Night Flight, we have to search the area so the rest of our group can pass safely." I wanted to know what these potential enemies looked like in case I accidentally bumped into their group later on. My eyes widened as I saw the appearances of the owners of those two voices. They were ... horses? That can't be right, horses are incapable of speech. And the rest of them? There's more? Where in gods name am I? Okay don't panic, you just have to sneak past them. You don't want to start any trouble. As long as I stay quiet I can get past them.
"Oh come on, Feather Weight, there is nopony out her- *snap* what was that?" Shit! I looked down and saw that I had stepped on a small twig. Out of all the things I could of stepped on, it was a loud twig. "Show yourself right now, or we'll shoot."
"God damn it." I slowly stepped out from behind the cart.
"Holy horse-apples! What the buck is that thing!?"
To Be Continued
