I know i promised Speer, But in the meantime i wrote this so...Uh yeah, i hope you enjoy! Also don't mind my weird choice of music.
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The Wehrmacht guard coughed as he kicked down the door to the underground Resistance movement. Blue and yellow flags littered the floors. As soft music was playing in the background faintly from the dusty 40's radio. The guard grabbed his gun, slowly walking in, each drop from the soft yet tense music making him ever more anxious. The chastushkan music made him feel unease. The room was filled with posters with phrases such as 'Slava Ukraini' or 'Crush the Wehrmacht'. The place smelled like a lavatory. His eyes glanced back and fourth between the different vibrant posters. He moved closer to the Radio, examining it. The guard reached out a finger to turn off the music...
Someone wrapped their hands around his mouth, a sharp pain slit across his throat. There was the guard, drowning in his own blood. Trying to scream, as he drowned their to death. The lyric's almost rhymed with his death. The maniacal laughter from the radio, the ladies voice drowning out any noise he even attempted to make. As the guard felt his last coming, all he felt was a cold boot stomping on his face. The life bled out his throat. The man responsible for his murder took a step back.
this was the...one-hundred and third Wehrmacht guard he killed? It was starting to get annoying, having to kill a guard daily. He reached in the guards pocket. Picking out his ID, the man took a peak. "Militärgarnison Personnel". Eh? The man found it amusing. He put away the ID in his own pocket...Now how would he dispose of the body? He grabbed his shovel, dragging the body outside. It was lightly raining...how convenient. He dug up a 4 meter-hole. Throwing the body outside...Well that was dealt with.
The man went back to the base, the underground hideout was pretty deep inside the forest. He wondered what the man had to do to find the location of the hideout. Either way, it didn't matter. He was dead now. He locked the door behind him. His drenched boots sloppily making their way down. He let the radio on, the soft but tense chatushkan music still dancing across the room, to keep it as a warning and a reminder to anyone and everyone....
Those who try to crush and oppress Ukrainian democracy, will perish themselves. For Ukrainians may become Martyrs, but may the blood give birth to thousands more.
-Oleksander Udovychenko
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A THOUSAND YEARS - Countryhumans story (TNO)
Historical FictionThe world as we know it was ripped apart, future for bright young men torn apart. All by a single man, Adolf Hitler and his Reich. Britain and France tried to oppose his tyranny. But all those attempts turned out to be futile. Once the war on the we...
