There was no escape. His comrades was either lying in their own blood, or hiding in the trenches. It all began when he was stopped, and they asked to have a word with Stan. He obliged with the spies, and gone with them in a trench, but time was passing too long. Hans had found splattered bits of blood and limbs the Germans took from the Allies.
Every shot was useless, the bullets of the guns narrowly avoided the Germans, the prayers seemed like mere words. But he cannot die, not now, not here. He asked, he will recieve. Fear will never win.
"Oh god ...It is one thing to bring terror out, but to massacre?" His fingers gripped tightly on the gun, more tightly, to never let it go. What lies after death?
A hand completly wrapped around Hans' head. It's grip was very strong, but worm.
"The fortunate who crush others, and crush".
YOU ARE READING
More Than Comrades
Romanceim not sure if this story is completed or not, but i like to think it is. mainly because im not really a big fan of writing anymore as i was couple months ago. i found an image and thought if i could write a fanfic about it, so here it goes.
