Dirty reality made by gloved hands

V

The German felt tingly in his body. His limbs felt light and buzzy as well as his surroundings. Every once in a while his vision faded for a second as he kept walking on the streets of Berlin.

He felt like he was under water. Everything was muffled. No one was in the city everything was dead quiet like the silence before the storm. It made Reich feel uneasy. He didn't exactly know where he was going, wandering without destination until he reached a street that lead straight to the Reichstag.

The German started moving towards the building. He was just halfway through when to his horror he noticed the walls of the buildings were getting closer, narrowing the street.

Reich started walking faster, his heart pace quickening. Loud rumbling was heard from where the Reich came from. the German turned around. The street started collapsing, the pavement falling into endless abyss. Reich started running towards the Reichstag, his delirious mind thinking he would be safe there. His heart was thumping against his ribcage and his breathing was quick and shallow. He ran as fast as he could but his legs felt like jello.

Reich could feel tears dwell up in his eyes. He felt like a child again, helplessly running away from the world, fighting to survive.

The gap was getting closer and Reich was now only a few meters away from the doors of the Reichstag. His cap fell off of his head but he didn't stop to pick it up.

He ran up the stairs and basically fell through the doors with the force he ran against them. He landed on his elbows and the rumbling noise stopped. The door shut behind him. He tried to get himself together as he still panted on the floor. He then slowly stood up and brushed his hair back on his scalp.

He looked around the hall. Nothing seemed to be out of ordinary. He let out a sigh, his knees were still weak and shaky from the adrenaline.

He started walking around the building looking for anyone he could find. He was just about to give up when he heard someone screaming.

It was a painful scream full of despair and fear. It was a distant noise but the person shrieked so hard and loud that it could be heard in the whole building.

Reich started running where he thought the sound was coming from. As he ran down the halls a burnt smell hit his nose and more and more smoke thickened the air. He started coughing on the way but he didn't stop.

The screaming was now deafening. Reich opened a door and went inside the room. More and more smoke filled his lungs and he started to tear up. He could barely keep his eyes open. He put his hands against his nose and mouth and started coughing harshly.

He looked around the room as much as he could and saw that everything was on fire. The curtains, the book shelves, the office desk the flames towered up to the ceiling. Reich stood in the middle of the room unable to move. Fear started to pump through his veins. He couldn't move! He couldn't move!

He then felt a hand touch his shoulder from behind. It felt hot against the fabric of his uniform, and a terrible burnt smell came from his back. Reich looked at the hand it was severely burnt and injured. Big blisters, blood and smut covered the skin. Then a weak voice came from the person.

"Reich." He moaned. Reich felt like a train hit him, chills went down on his spine and his eyes widened. "Reich." The person repeated. His muscles stiffened, He didn't want to look at him, no he couldn't look at him.

"Look at me Reich." He couldn't bear to look at him! He started shaking and his breath hitched. "REICH LOOK AT ME!" The person yelled. Reich slowly turned his head and gasped.

It was really him.

"Look what you have done to me Reich."

It was his brother.

His whole body was covered with burnt injuries, He was drenched with blood, like the flesh has been melted down from his bones. Blisters ran along his limbs some of them long time bursted some still intact. Reich couldn't help but snap his head away.

"No, Reich, look at me! Look at what you've done to me!" Weimar grabbed both his shoulders and turned his whole body to face him.

"No... I-I didn't-." He tried to form words with his shaky voice but utter fear and panic made his mind numb.

"Yes you did! This is your fault. You made me like this! Your hands is covered with my blood!" Weimar grabbed one of Reich's hands and held it in front of his face. It was dark with blood. Not only his hands his whole arm and foot, they were all covered in blood, Weimar's blood.

Reich shook his head, not being able to bear the situation. He put his hands against his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. Weimar furiously shook him and kept yelling at him.

"Look at me!"

"Look what you have done!"

"This is all your fault!"

"Why did you do this to me?"

"Why did you kill me Reich?"

"Why? Why? WHY?"

Reich hunched over and soon collapsed to the floor. He was crying, gripping his hair and screaming. His whole body shook as he kept breathing unevenly.

The floor suddenly collapsed under him and he started falling. Everything was dark around him and he just kept on falling, falling and falling into nothingness.

Then he jolted awake. He was drenched in cold sweat and tears ran along his face as he was breathing rapidly. It was just a dream he told himself. He pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to calm himself. Yeah it was just a dream, Weimar is long dead. He slowly calmed down and when he looked at his surroundings only did he realise that he doesn't exactly know where he is.

The room he was in was decorated nicely. He was lying in a huge king sized bed in front of the bed was a desk with a chair to it. The windows was on his left and there was a door leading to a balcony. In front of the window stood a coffee table and two armchairs. On his right was the door and a smaller commode. The walls were covered with wallpaper and a few framed painted pictures where neatly hanged on them.

Reich assumed that he must be in one of Soviets guest rooms as he tried to recall what had happened yesterday.

That is when a knock was heard on the door.