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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1721849-Deep-into-Nazi-Regime
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by V Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Tragedy · #1721849
A fictional story inspired by World War 2.
Deep into Nazi Regime

It was dark, cold, but dry nonetheless. He had his arms around me. The train rattled back and forth, shaking on the rails. I rested my head on the side of the container and slept, I was comfortable.

I left the poor orphan on the train. Where I was going no one could follow, deep into Nazi regime. After I escaped from the concentration camp, I had hit the train. I was rebelling, and secretly out for revenge on the Nazis. I was at Rigo Station. Most people would now call me a drifter, except for the fact that I’m a woman. That threw most of them off.

I was at Rigo for the market. I needed a new handgun, just about anything would do. My last one was stolen in a bar-fight with a couple Germans. The forum was busy as always. I wasn’t about to waste time, nightfall was coming. That’s when I’d hit the casino or some pub, looking for Nazis.

“Hi there little lady.” the stall worker was definitely too skinny and happy to be a gun trader.

“Piss off.” I said  “Any handgun you got... please.” as I drop 40 bullets on his counter.

“Here you go.” he replied, still too cheerful as he places the gun on the counter. I pick it up, it’s solid, a little heavy for a handgun, and loaded. Still examining it, I raise it.

“Whoa there lady! Might want to put that down.” That offended me. I decided to test the gun. On his head, and his red armband. I also figured his red armband gave me rights to my 40 bullets back. The gun didn’t have much recoil, was very accurate, but a little too heavy.  It went clean through his forehead, and he dropped with a dull thud. The market was too busy for anyone too immediately notice. I ditched.

It was dusk when I found my way into a pub on the outskirt of this broken town. The yellow dim lit room, filled with cirgarette smoke, with the stench of whiskey and men. A juke box playing some jazz from a century ago, being manipulated by a drunken middle aged man. A table was placed near the corner. Three high ranked Nazis sat around it throwing bullets around a deck of cards. My warm-up I thought. I walk over and sit on the rusty bar stool. Toss the tender a bullet while I wait for the men and their helpless, feeble attempts at wooing me. I loved the attention, thrived on it.

A glass filled with a golden amber liquid slid up the bar and rested in front of me. I drained it slowly, letting it swirl about my mouth. I heard the front door of the pub open. I turned casually to the sound of the man and the men at the gambling table exchange greetings. That’s when I got my first look at him. The man that would change my life. Amazing, I thought immediately pushing the thought of my head in disgust.

He came ant sat beside me. Buying a round for his friends at the table behind him. I almost didn’t notice his red armband. He too, the man of my dreams, was part of the Nazi regime I had sworn to destroy. Germans filthy scum. I thought, immediately regretting how much I meant it.

“Keg’s empty, gimme a sec.” The bartender told the Nazi. At that he relaxed. He turned to me, one glance and I was suddenly nervous. Not because I’d been killing his comrades, but because of being him. His stance, his roughness, his eyes piercing mine. I can’t hold his stare, I glance quickly down into my half empty glass. My heart pounding his hard voice rings softly in my ears.

“Good evening, you here alone?” He came across friendly, but direct.

“Yeah.” I manage to reply. The bartender hands him four glasses.

“Here come,” He beckoned me to follow with his hand. “you know poker?”

“Do I.”

We pull up two chairs to the table. His friends greet him and makes jokes about me. I don’t care. My hearts pounding, my left hand griping my handgun. I could end three lives Nazi lives, right here, only three.  My heart already knew I wasn’t going to kill the forth. They were commanding officers. Sounds important enough to kill. I thought. Once again wishing I hadn’t. We played hands of poker, he treated me as if I was some dumb slut. I knew what I was doing. Ten rounds later we had a pile of bullets sitting in front of us. It was fun, except for the fact that I was straining myself from killing them all. The oldest, and more higher ranked one waved the bartender, and a waitress brought over five shot glasses.

“A toast!” He boomed. I’m sure the entire pub could hear him.

“To the fuhrer... to a new found poker star!...” He waited as he regained the attention of everyone.

“and finally...” He paused, it felt ominous, I clenched my handgun with my right hand still holding the shot glass with my left. Feeling my knife, hot pressed against my leg, waiting for Nazi blood. I knew his next words would send me off the handle. I didn’t care I was ready to put a bullet through his throat.

“FUCK THE JEWS!” He boomed proudly as he quickly poured the alcohol down his throat. My gun immediately in the air. I was in raged at his words. A bullet through his skull, a nice clean hole as the gun fired, blood slowly trickled down his forehead as he landed hard on the table. My left hand dropped the shot glass grabbing my knife and stabbing the Nazi to my left through the neck. The last one in front of me, met a bullet with a nice thud. Piercing his chest heavily. I turned to him standing at my right. I pointed my gun at his head. He chuckled and said,

“You’re not gonna kill me are you?” This made me angry, the immediate rage of the Nazis words were gone, but he re-lit the fire.

“I might.” I replied

“I was told you were a Nazi hunter, are the legends true?”

“What legends?” I knew exactly what he was talking about. I just didn’t care for it right now.

“The stories, of you escaping the concentration camp. All out for revenge, but you couldn’t kill one person. Me.”

He was a dick, a total dick. I loved it. He stood up to me. No one else dared. He wasn’t intimidated. The way he read me, it was infuriating, but I craved the attention, loved it.

“I know nothing of this.” I replied to his snarly comment. I didn’t care.

“Alright, Nazi hunter.” He says grabbing the bullets off the table, as he walked out the door. I didn’t know whether to follow or not, but something inside me made me.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” I screamed after him.

“Well, you’re not gonna kill me, I won the bullets fair and square, and three high ranked officers of which I commanded are dead. So I figured I’d go for a walk. Care to join?” He held out his hand, as if to ask for me to grab on I pushed it away and walked ahead. Fucking Nazi.

“What’s your name?” he called after me, jogging up next to me.

“What’s the point of telling you, you’ve already obviously heard my nicknames.”

“I want your real name, the name you give yourself, not one placed on you for standing up for what you believe in.” This gave him something I could grasp. ‘Something I believe in’ I repeated in my head. He might just have a little class this man.

“May, and you tell anyone and I’ll put a bullet clean through that forehead.” He didn’t look at all intimidated by this threat. I was slightly taken a back.

“Deal.” he held out his hand and we shook, before he suddenly pulled me inward. My heart started pounding. What was I doing, being held in the arms of a Nazi. I felt his warm muscular body pressed against mine, I felt vulnerable, but still safe in his arms. What was I thinking, why was I attracted to the one man that stands for everything I’m against. Yet here I am, in his arms, disarmed. I rest my head on his chest and look up at him.

“You feel the same way I do right now don’t you?” I whispered

“Yes.” I said. Feeling as though we had just connected our souls.

“Why should we fight?” He said after a long pause.

“We’re not.” I replied,

“Good, but I can’t do this, and I don’t think you can either.” He said softly. I knew what he meant. I was ready.

“I’ll stop killing Nazis, if you stop killing Jews.” We made that deal. He leaned downward, onto me. I tilted my head sideways and pressed my lips with his. His lips and tongue moving in time with mine, taking me away to paradise.

A train roared into Rigo Station, it slowed and he hoisted me into one of the empty carts. He sat in a corner. I sat laying on top of him. He put his arms around me, breathing softly, his warm breathe going down my back. It was dark, cold, but dry nonetheless. He had his arms around me. The train rattled back and forth, shaking on the rails. I rested my head on the side of the container, I was comfortable. That’s when I heard the cocking of a gun in my ear, and a small cold steel circle pressed against the side of my head. How stupid I was to think he actually cared. I was an idiot, blinded by love. Fuck. That’s when I realised how cold and heartless the fuhrer really was.

“Fucking Jew.” Hitler said softly as he pulled the trigger and took my life.v
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