Page 6 - KJS_English_Storybook_3Pascal_2022

I took hold of body and dragged to the changing room. His large body made loud thuds across the
wooden tiles. My arms quickly got stiffed. My hand was gloved in blood. Horrific but no time
reserved for remorse. For a man appeared, bulky. He swiftly act and lunged, crashing my body to
the floor.

His punches agile and precise. My head battered against the ground. My arms were bruised and slow
to grasp the murder weapon, given time for another impact. My vision became vague and my mind
dull. He took hold of the knife and pressed the brandished knife into my tissues. I shrieked in utmost
pain. He stabbed again, and again before my eyes closed.

“This traitor murdered our fellow countrymen. It is our tribute to take his life as a payment for another
life. This fiend possessed by the devil will suffer eternal pain in the hell. Die you muppet.”

My eyes twitched hardly. The bubbling pagan was the same man who thrusted the knife against my
life. His company looked freshly recruited, young and innocent. They held the ranch rifle like
cowards. Up front was the frontline, blazing of guns nearing like a razing forest fire. My body
battle-bruised, and iron locked. Fumes appeared closing in. Platoons of soldiers backing.

The enemy advanced greatly, God’s benison bestowed upon them rather than the cursed nation I
fought for. They fired mortars, landing and tearing man. Along with his curse, the bubbling pagan
torn into fragments of fleshes. His body flew past. His friends turning into ashes and fragments of
the same fate.

A brigade officer appeared and untied me. His words unclear, my ears deaf by the decibel of noises.
He handed a ranch rifle and with haste, I gunned him down. His crew swiftly reflected with fires. I
was outnumbered, I had to think. My dull mind unable to process the stressful situation as bullets
zoomed. Dumbfounded, I ran over no man’s land. Death by the enemy a better than killed as a
traitor. Death was bounded, I closed my eyes. I closed my ears.

Man shrekied, the firefight was heavy upfront. The heat felt. Intense. The hearing paid intense. A
bullet penetrated by back. I shrieked, blood spilling as mud oozed into the holes. No words could
describe the pain. My mind beginning to shut before I plunged into the gooey mud. My eyes awaked
by pain, a figure approached.

“Surprised you are alive. You crossed what no man has succeed. Your pain is not the last. Your
defection is regrettable, for you are a prize interrogation,” uttered the German.

I was entangled in a trap as like a mouse. I trusted my heel and fled before collapsing.

“Don’t run little one,” they laughed.

They hacked me. I lost too much blood. My vision closing. My eyes closed.

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