A Partisan's Fight - COMPLETED!

Chapter Seventy

Content Warning: Kind of violent, tense, and bloody.

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"It took some time to find my brother's body, but when I did... well, it took a little longer to recognize him." The man pushed a knee down on Aldrik's chest, hard and sharp.

"What... does this have... to do with me?" Wheezing and struggling, Aldrik could almost reach the knife behind his back. His fingers were bruising against the hilt of the weapon. The quick blow to his chest was unexpected. Any harder and he swore his sternum would have been broken.

The man's lip curled up, he was clearly holding back his wrath. "Kurt Lehmann was my brother. Do you remember the torture you put him through?"

Swallowing, Aldrik stopped struggling and stared at the man. He realized now why he recognized the features of his enemy. They weren't carbon copies, but he could see the resemblance in the eyes. "What makes you so sure it was me?

"Yeah, you know, about that. I really had no idea who did it. Until... well, until I found that Jewish family hiding out near there. You remember them I am sure. Three women and a boy? Ringing a bell? Well, I killed the old woman first. Figured there really was no point in keeping her around. Between the boy and his mother, it did not take long for them to start talking when I started to rip the younger woman's fingernails off."

Aldrik's jaw tightened harder than he was sure was possible. He swallowed hard, remembering the faces of the people who had helped them. He'd been angry before, but there was something deeper, darker, trying to overwhelm him. He gripped the hilt of the knife under his back, white knuckling it as tightly as possible. Shifting his weight more to one side, he pushed up against the man with his hip bucking up. The movement was unexpected, just the way Aldrik wanted it. He flung the man onto his back, jumping on top of him and shoving the knife down with him. He kept slashing into him, unable to stop himself.

Gasping for air, he pulled himself to a stop. The emptiness in the man's eyes proved he was gone. Pushing himself away from the body, he sat on the ground, arms hanging off of his knees as he fought to gain control of the unleashed monster inside of him. He pushed himself to his feet, noticing the dirt sticking to his blood drenched hands. He didn't have time to reminisce of the moment or how he could have done things differently. He had people to protect. Swiping his arm across his face, he left the knife hanging from his other hand and worked his way to helping the next person who needed it.