World War Two soldiers discover a secret horror from the past. Dedicated to Rafaela.
“Are they sure this is the place, sir?” one of the soldiers with the BARs says to the lead soldier, who apparently is his squad leader.
“That’s what the Major says. They wouldn’t be here unless it was. Most of those bastards were smart enough to exit those camps because they knew what we’d do if we caught them. This has to be it.” The Lieutenant with the Thompson said, still trying to catch his breath.
The men all look at each other; looks of amazement and fear cover their faces in equal measures. They check their weapons and look over towards the squads that were breaching the camp at the moment and up at the gray sky which was darkening more and more by the moment.
“Appropriate weather, looks like” the Lieutenant looks up, catching a few drops of the cool rain on his face, removing his helmet, momentarily and taking in the storm.
He places his helmet back on and wipes his brow with his sleeve and checks the bolt on his Thompson and motions for two men from behind to cover him. The soldiers with the Brownings cover the windows and two more with M1 rifles are on either side of the Lieutenant as he kicks the door clean off its broken hinges and looks around the room. Scattered papers decorate the old wooden floors of what looked like it was once a farmhouse. Shelves and tables were knocked over and smashed by the bullets that the soldiers had poured in and a few bodies lied among the wrecked jumble of wood and metal that the soldiers stepped over as they examined rooms carefully.
“You four take the upstairs and you four stay here and check the few rooms, gather any intel” the Lieutenant tells his men, pointing to their destinations and hardly glancing at the wide eyed corpse he was standing over that still clutched at his throat and was pouring out blood.
“You three, come with me” the Lieutenant tells one of the BAR gunners and the two riflemen that ran in with him.
They all nod, as all the men scatter to do their jobs, all still seemingly in a hurry and looking desperately as if they were searching for something, which was still a mystery. The Lieutenant and his three soldiers walk to the end of the hall, past a few rooms and towards a door that led to a basement area. It said something in German that none of the men could decipher, though the captain had an idea what it meant as his face showed disgust and disapproval, He looked at his men and tapped one of the riflemen on the soldier and motioned for him to open the door. The soldier knocks the door in and a great white light floods them as they step down into the lower floor with more caution than they took getting here.
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