The smell a horrific smell. Something that you won't smell even after death. Bodies littered all around us. Leaving us in shock. Unable to move, look. Me, in such a state of shock my mouth don't even drop. Houses in shambles, broken down. Stones covering some of the bodies. All the bodies are either covered in dust or riddled with wounds.
Though if I did I would taste the smell. As the bodies burned or shot. Bloodied bodies, faces charred off. If not covered by the smell of death you would be able to smell, something different from death, like well done steak.
Bodies wearing different uniforms all around. Some from Soviet Union, some troops from the British empire. More bodies from the British. Majority of the bodies littered with gunshots and some having burn marks. Still sizzling from the flames.
[Looking around now, not just staring in front of me. I notice that I'm the only one with the shocked expression because as I turn. I see Paul and Don. Don chocking out Paul, Paul's color turning different his face burning red. Paul reaching out searching for anything to grab to save him.
He's now staring at me hoping for help, not being able to find anything within range of him to save himself. Don still sitting on top of his body. Tears now slowly falling of his bruised cheek as the slowly feel the bottom of his eyes letting them fall.
'That's what you deserve b*stard.'
I think to myself.
Seeing as I won't help, he tries freeing himself. Prying at his hand. Griping them, clawing at them. Trying to free himself in anyway, with no hope, his hands stay latched around his neck, not letting him get a chance of air.
Don finally kills him as air comes out of his nose. The light leaving his eyes. His mouth open as he was trying to breathe air. His mouth now spread open.
Though not angry or inraged, his killing of Paul surprises me.
"Don, why? Why kill him? What did he do?"
My question makes him stand. Letting him stare at me, with arms showing his veins. Showing his effort to kill him.
"What did you come in for, huh?"
"I came in for—."
He cuts me off:
"I already know. You sold drugs, like a lot. Minors, homeless, hell you were damn good at it. You became known as a guy that sold for the whole city but, you gave up on selling for the city, when your close friend died because of an asshole leader. Killed him you ran but the legacy remained letting cops come find you."
He pauses:
"You never killed though. Not in the way he has. That's why I'm letting you live. Letting you decide that we can continue doing this."
His face is serious his eyes bloodshot. I'm shocked, he's in anger and don't even notice what happened next.
Two guards in uniform, the same as some on the ground, come out way speaking a language a completely different language. They are also wearing a different uniform, one of the Soviet Union soldiers. Holding rifles, long front side with a stock just to fit right into their should with what looks like a pin sticking out the side.
Appears from seemingly out of nowhere. Looking around, they see Paul's body, his standout compared to the others because off his death, not shot or burnt. He looks exactly like them, just without the uniform, same with us. Looking at Don standing right beside him. With his arms red, bloodied and scratched from the earlier encounter.
They lift they're rifles holding it up, held to them using a strap. They start circling us, yelling out words we don't understand.
'Whole three months and we didn't even learn how to speak German. Great job dumbass.'
The word struck me like a truck.
I throws my hands into the air. Hoping they would at least understand that I was unarmed. Unlike me though, Don was looking around seeing the bodies with rifles and sidearms, still attached to them.
He lunges for one of the bodies close to him. He's fast, very fast in the blink of an eye he reach the body, though it wasn't far. He tried to grab the rifle off the body and a shot rang.
Before Don even touched the gun. He was shot in the back blood flowing slowly out of his body. And then another shot rang off. He was shot again, then again then again. Until they were sure he was dead. Then one of the men walked up to him, while the other held his gun up to me ready to make the same move as him, but I wasn't I was scared.
I'm not gonna be some crazy super person that can dodge bullets and hit his shot every time. I stand there with my hands in the air.
The other guy puts his guts his gun onto his back. His strap holding it in place. He turns back to the guy holding me hostage and says something, with his thumb up.
'Probably said "yeah he's dead.", or something like that.'
I thought to myself again. Still feeling like shitting myself.
Finishing his checking of Don the guy stands up once again holding grabbing the rifle off of his back. The other guy, now holding the gun to my back, nudges me forward while the other starts walking in front of me.
Guy behind once again nudges me. Twice, yelling words, that I don't understand.
'Just follow that guy, I guess.'
The guy in front walks in front of me for a while guiding me through some ruins, tripping multiple times, making the soldier behind me push me multiple times shoving me and yelling things my way that I don't understand.
Finally after going through a house. Well not really much of a house, more of just half a house and a bunch of ruins and bricks on the ground. Turning, I noticed a bunch of people all lined up together, some with their hands on top of their heads. Men, women, children not really anywhere. Some are around the age of teens.
Still a distance away. Soldiers surrounding them. Holding them hostage. They are place if front of a podium. The podium is place on a platform that stands two feet taller then the people kneeling in front of it. The soldier in front guiding me turns his head.
"Where are you from?"
He has an accent. Also has mole right under his right eye now that I can see him better, while also not being very scared.
"Montana."
"Like United States? What are you doing here? This war doesn't include your country."
He stops and turns, looking at me straight in the face. Reaching into his pocket to pull out a case. A rectangular one, small enough to fit into his pocket but big enough to cover his hand. Reaching into the same pocket he pulls out a lighter.
He pops out the top half of the case and shows the inside. Lined with cigarettes, about ten on the inside he pulls one out and lights it. He bring it to his face and takes a drag, inhaling it then blowing the smoke in front of my face.
I let out a cough.
'Never really smoked before.'
He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and offers me.
"Come on, take it. It's the last time you will ever smoke."
Reaching my hand out to grab it. I get nudged in my back, by the barrel of the gun the guy behind me is holding. Slowly, I continue to bring my hand to the cigarette.
Grabbing the cigarette, I bring it to my mouth.
Taking it in, first all I could feel was the cig touching my lips. Then, I felt the smoke feel my lungs as I inhaled in, hard. The last thing I felt, was the smoke burning my lung as it was flowing out. Letting out the smoke from my lung. I start coughing, hard, giving him the cig and dropping to the ground holding my chest.
"Black man can't handle his cigarettes, huh?"
Mole guy says, while laughing. Accent stating to piss me off. He gives a explanation of what happened to me and it seems his laugh is contagious. Since I can hear the guy behind me is also now laughing. Slapping my back hard.
Mole guy says something else in German I think, still not very sure. The guy behind me brings me to a standing position, grabbing my arm and guiding me to the group of hostages making me line up as well. Making me kneel beside them.
Putting me beside a man with tears on his face staring at the ground. His hands interlocked, praying in a language I don't understand. He speaking fast. From what I can tell half of these people are doing the exact same thing he's doing.
Looking around I can see about ten guards including the ones the just came here from grabbing me. As well as a guy wearing a giant backpack like thing. Two giant tanks look like they are attach to his back, hence the backpack like thing. I think he's holding a flamethrower.
Another soldier, wearing a beret. A small hat that's flat and place on the top of your head. With a insignia on the side of the hat of a rectangle with two leaves interwoven together stacked on top and two lines placed from end to end on the bottom.
After putting me on my knees, I see the other soldier, the one behind me, stand beside the Mole guy. Once again speaking a language I don't understand.
A few moments later, another soldier bring a girl, from what I see around my age. I'm twenty-three. She has been crying. A bruise placed on her cheek. Her clothes ripped barely holding onto her. I can see her slim figure. Her body has marks just like the her face. Bruises.
'He hurt her, in more ways than one.'
The soldier that's being her over has a laugh, pointing to her while talking to another, smiling, laughing. Both of them. The soldier that is talking to the one dragging the girl is stationed beside the podium on the far end. The soldier at the podium starts humping the air with his hands out, as if holding someone from the behind. They both start laughing hysterically.
'These guys are f*cking insane!'
Smudging on her face from what I can guess is soot, caused by all the smoke in the area. Tears obscuring the soot by lines placed on her cheeks. Her eyes are deadpan, I can't see anything in it and she most likely can't see well, or she is mentally unstable. I can just get on what he did to her. Just like a certain dead bastard.
She is beautiful though you can tell with even all the obstruction on her. Smoke on her face, her hair. Can't really tell if she black haired or blonde haired. Her skin is white but can't really figure out just how white she is. I'd say she fairly white shade.
The soldier that brought her over starts laughing and pointing toward her, with another soldier right beside him they are both laughing. Beside the platform just inside both of our peripheral of our eyes.
Beret starts walking over to the podium, using stairs on the side of the platform to get on top of it. He then starts making a speech. Once again in a language I don't understand, but from the reaction of the people around I can guess that it's bad. People around us are crying harder, a woman now holding a younger man next to her, from what I can guess is her son.
All of them are praying even faster. Not the girl though, she kneels beside me. Staring straight ahead not even paying attention to anything going around her, not the crying nor the laughing soldier.
Mole stars walking up beside me.
"You are all going to die…"
He stop to let out a laugh, small but noticeable:
"… it will be in a way that a lot of your people have already died in. By burning! That is what he said."
I look back at him in horror. Knowing I placed this fate upon myself. I'm going to died by fire in a gruesome manner. I can tell I'm showing it on my face.
He leaves slapping my face and laughing, the slaps just enough for me to feel it but not be moved strongly by it.
A soldier smaller build out of all the soldiers here starts helping flamer with the tanks on his back. Giving him the gun and holding the rifle he was holding before starting up the machine letting out a roaring sound and getting ready before he gets pushed by an escaping guy.
The escapee gets shot by the same soldier that brought the girl. Both of his knees get shot letting him drop to the ground with a thud. The escapee starts crawling. The soldier starts laughing walking toward him. Holding his rifle in place in front of him. The escapee tryin his best to crawl away from him.
Laughing soldier caught up to him. Pulling his hair to see his face. Laughing at him, saying something I don't understand. He throws the guys face down toward the ground, backing up a little and shoots him, not once or twice either, he unloads the whole damn magazine.
That's all that happens before I face forward. I hear a click and footsteps walking toward back to where he was going passing by the girl he says something to her and kisses her cheek. She lets a few tears roll down her face now. Her face has fury, if she was to be let loose she would go feral, trying to kill the bastard. She would died but she'd get a good hit in if she lunges from here.
Looking back up to the platform. The man starts singing, I still don't understand. But it's like an opera, he singing in long voiced yelling letting out screams as I hear different screams. Coming from the end of the line at the opposite direction.
Screaming as two tanks, let's fire rain out of his gun. Burning the people before me. Laughing. Spitting on some of the bodies as he goes onto the next and the next. Loud excruciating screams louder than the opera. More and more scream loudly. Some only stopping as the light leaves their eyes and skin burns off their body.
Letting them cry and hold each other thinking it will be less painful if they died together. The whole time I sat there dazed. Not knowing what to do.
"Black man, you die like a b*tch!"
Mole says to me laughing, I thought he was calm and reserved but no he's an ass just like everyone here. He lets out a laugh and another soldier beside him starts laughing as well.
Some I can feel the heat on me. Heat I think I felt before but not on thing level of hot. Soon the fire will burn me.
'God if I get another chance. Give it to me. I want to kill the smiling bastard along with the f*cker holding the flamethrower and the guy standing on the platform.'
That's the last thought I can hear myself think as my body is burned. Tearing away at my flesh. Liquid hit my skin right before I feel flames. Making me want to scratch. I let out screams horrid, grotesque screams. My hair burning away and my back feels pain. I black out from the pain. Death]
I'm back screaming scratching my back. No longer feeling the pain, but just the wetsuit. Standing looking around at the buildings the bodies and everything else.