Assassin's Creed: Blitzkrieg

Chapter II Part III

           The black leather gloves wrinkled as their grip tightened around Friedrich's windpipe. The man unleashed a sickening smile at the thought of strangling the life out of the man, who would have other wise killed him, spit flying out of the corners of his mouth. His eyes widened and gleamed as Friedrich used his last breathes to mutter something under his breath.
            "What was that? You're going to have to speak up!" He said mockingly with a cackle.
            Friedrich wheezed another breath in,
"I said... I have... your... gun!"
            The smile drained from the uniformed man's face as he looked down at the unfastened pistol holster on his hip, then back at Friedrich. Six shots sounded before the man's body fell to the floor. Friedrich coughed as air once again filled his lungs.
            A slow clap applauded in unison with the set of boots that struck the floor. A new man entered, wearing the same grey uniform the others wore, but medals and awards of the like graced his chest. He had his black hair slicked back, and a scar on the tip of his chin. The man stoped a few feet from Friedrich,  just out of arms reach.
            Scaning the scene with a methodic grin carved across his face, the man said, "What a show you put on, Mr. Vogel."
           His head turned to the broken door, "Und I hope you can forgive us for the door." He said sarcastically as he returned his gaze to Friedrich.
            "You seem to know my name, but I can't remember yours. Who are you." Friedrich spoke, more as a demand than a question.
            "I am one of many. Mr. Vogel." The man riddled. Friedrich glanced down to the iron cross over the man's chest. "May your Father of Understanding guide you through Hell!" He spat, raising the gun to the man's nose. Three consecutive clicks broke the silence.
            "Oh fu-" Friedrich groaned as the man slapped the pistol from his hand, sending it sliding across the room until it was halted by a near by wall. The man chuckled as he removed the gloves from his hand one finger at a time. Friedrich tried to tackle the man, but a swift elbow thrown into his back sent him tumbling to the ground.
        Friedrich reached out to one of the MP 40s on the ground, his fingers clawing to grasp its sleek body. The man slowly pressed the heel of his boot down on Friedrich's hand, causing him to wince in pain. The man nudged the gun away an inch with his other foot.
            "No, no, no, Mr. Vogel. Nien. It is time for you to get some rest." He scolded, tucking his gloves into the front of his belt. The man unfastened the holster on his side and produced a silver Luger pistol with extravagant carvings etched all along its length.
           "Rest in peace, Mr. Vogel." The man said quietly as Friedrich clentched his eyes shut in defeat, and let out a violent cry as one last act of defiance.