Panic

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It's quiet, too quiet for a war zone.

Ragged panting breaths and the sound of running footfall disrupts the eerie silence, like thunder in the distance.

The sound gets closer. Faster.

"COME HERE GIRLIE! WE SEE YOU." The unwanted sound of broken english.

The footfall becomes faster.

"WE WILL OUT RUN YOU SCHLAMPE." The German word cuts through the air like glass.

"I'M NO WHORE YOU KRAUT BASTARDS!." She yells. "I'm simply a nurse." She whispers to herself.

Fill her canteen, that's all she wanted to do. Fill her canteen from the local well, unknowingly leaving the base territory until it was too late.

A nurse, she's a bloody nurse. Can't they understand that? She's here to help people... friend or foe. There is no choosing who lives and dies, there's a duty to do. A duty to her country, family and to humanity.

Hands grab her from behind, throwing her to the ground with a grunt.

Being flipped over she sees the gaunt face of one of her attackers. Vibrant blue eyes wide like a wild animal. He eyes her hungrily like the men around here do when a bowl of food is placed in front of them.

"Ahh boys, we have a rose. An English rose. Wunderschön, wunderschön. All for us eh?" There are chuckles in reply to his remark.

Hearing their laughter as encouragement, his hands forcefully wrap themselves around her neck as he climbs on top of her.

"I may be beautiful, but I am not for you." She replies with a strangled voice as he applies more pressure when she speaks.

Smirking deviously he releases one hand from her throat, with his free hand he reaches for the bottom of her dress, pulling it up to her waist. He grunts as legs kick out and narrowly misses his crotch region.

"Ah ah ah missy, we'll be getting there in a moment won't we boys." Once again there is laughter in reply to his remark.

"Please. Don't." She pleads, kicking out at him again. Panic flows through her faster than her blood.

The distant sounds of mud slushing against boots cause the men to look around with panic.

"Oi! What's going on here?"

Seeing this as a distraction, she spies a blade hooked to her attackers belt. How she didn't see it earlier baffles her.

Grabbing the knife, her attacker too distracted to take notice. She holds it with a firm grip.

"I asked you lot a fucking question mate!" Relief washes over her as she hears the sound of home. The accent a familiar one, albeit a cockney one but English none the less.

"HELP!" The cries of desperation carried out in the air.

"Shut your whore mouth girl." Comes the reply from her attackers; the enemy. Slapping hands on her mouth to stop her from screaming out once again.

As the sound of marching and swearing gets closer, the look on the attackers faces becomes panicked. Unsure of what to do, one of the four attempt to run.

Seeing this, the Englishman pulls out his gun and points it to the group. "You alright miss?" He asks the girl with genuine concern.

"She's fine, don't you worry eh." One of the men say.

"I didn't fucking ask did I mate." He replies sternly. "I'll ask the lovely lady again. Are you alright love?"

All eyes point to her. She questions whether to tell the truth or to lie, not knowing which outcome would be better or worse.

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