For all the rest of my Flash Fiction Entries |
Jakob adjusts the cursed armband and takes a shuffling step forward. His stomach growls with hunger; his bones and teeth rattling with the biting cold. The rain has not ceased its incessant tears since yesterday, and the roads are now a sloosh of mud, vomit, and blood. “Kowalski!” comes the commanding bark. “Here, sir,” he responds and steps out of the line. He keeps his head lowered until the hard and painful nudge of the leather whip beneath his chin forces him to look into steely-blue eyes. He does his best to keep his features neutral, which appears to satisfy the officer who barks out a curt – “Crematorium!” - before moving on to the next worker. Biting his tongue, he moves back into place. Angry tears form, but it’s a hard nudge to this elbow that forces him to give a panicked glance to his left. “I’m doing it today, Jakob,” comes the gruff whisper. Jakob’s eyes widen in terror as the flap of the heavy damp coat is lifted to reveal the handle of a pistol. His heartbeat quickens. He licks his chapped lips and eyes the busy courtyard. There are twenty of the workers in line and about five officers attending to them. At the top of the battered remains of what used to be homes, two more stand on guard. “Too dangerous…” Jakob begins in a fervent whisper, but he’s unheard. The deafening sound of the gunshot would allow him only a moment to see the officer fall to the ground in a slump. Chaos reigns as he feels a tug on his hand and the bellowed scream of ‘Let’s get out of here!’ ringing in his head. Desperately, he follows; hope a fleeting dream soon shattered as a slice of pain forces him to meet the earth. WC: 300 Prompt ▼ |