《Hellborne》


 Prologue

    Prologue


    ¡°Hey Ozzy, I got you a bowl,¡± said PFC. Jerome Neff, the biggest soldier in my company. He ambled over casually with two bowls of ice cream covered in all of the toppings. The rugged scar running through his hairline and down the side of his face gave those in his way pause and an urgency to move before he got to close. The combination of his grim appearance and giant stature always sent people running, even those of a higher rank. No amount of chevrons on your arm could stop an angry giant from crushing you. I didn¡¯t think of Neff that way though, I saw him as a close friend.


    We were in a somewhat symbiotic relationship. Whatever injury has caused Neff¡¯s massive facial scarring had left him mildly weak of mind. I on the other hand was smart as a whip, and especially street smart thanks to my upbringing, and I used that knowledge to benefit me and Neff. My practical knowledge had served me more than well in the alpha male dominated, testosterone filled environment of the U.S. Army, and when I couldn¡¯t think my way out of a situation, Neff stepped in. Literally, that was it, he just stepped in. Everyone else knew to step back when Neff stepped in. Unless you have a deathwish or a dream to be the first man with a spine shaped like a pretzel it was best to go the other direction when Neff was angry.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Why did they give us ice cream anyway,¡± asked Pvt. Russo as Neff handed me mine.


    ¡°Obviously It¡¯s full of mind altering chemicals and drugs so we don¡¯t get airsick or scared in battle,¡± said Corporal Ryan.


    ¡°Oh how I do love Ryan¡¯s conspiracy theories,¡± I said jokingly which elicited a few laughs from my friends around me. Cpl. Ryan had once told me that he had his attic lined in tin foil to prevent extraterrestrials from monitoring his ¡®research.¡¯


    I was sitting on a pile of standard gear for a paratrooper, my gear, on a tarmac in England with my best buds, my weapon slung over one of my shoulders. We were waiting to do something impossible, insane even. The year was 1944, My name is Raymond Osburn, and I am a 16-year-old who illegally enlisted into the U.S. Army using a fake ID. Now I¡¯m about to board a perfectly good airplane just to jump out of it into Nazi occupied France, and I couldn¡¯t be happier.

 Chapter 1.A

    Chapter 1


    ¡°Sir, step up to the desk!¡± said a grouchy sounding paternal voice. I was so worried and lost in my own thoughts that I didn¡¯t even realize the older doctor running the enlistment exams was talking to me. ¡°YOU THERE, are you, or are you not one Raymond Osburn?¡± the doctor shouted questioningly.


    ¡°Sorry sir, just tired is all. I had a long night of drinking last night. One last hurrah, you understand,¡± I stated plainly, lying through my teeth. I had never drank a sip of alcohol in my life, not after the way I had seen it make men¡¯s faces turn red and anger them into doing unthinkably cruel things. I had hopes that this lie would help me seem older. The doctor did not look pleased with my explanation. This would be the third time I had tried enlisting, I had been caught twice before and outed as a minor. Hopefully the third time was the charm, because I had spent every last penny I owned in the world on this I.D. The doctor had a heavy packet in front of him, containing my fake credentials and the results of all of the medical exams I had taken today.


    ¡°Well let¡¯s hope your attention improves before basic training,¡± the doctor said tersely before handing the packet over to me and stamping it in my hands with a large ¡®1A.¡¯ That was the designation for someone who was ready for military service! I had to pinch my face into a neutral state to hide the smile that was trying to creep onto it. I had finally done it!


    ***


    ¡°Alright everyone load up! Sit with your squads. Squads one and two load first, then squads three and four,¡± shouted my angry Platoon Sergeant, Staff Sergeant Murphy. I never could quite figure out why he was so angry, and to be honest I didn¡¯t care to. If I did my job and kept my head down, people mostly ignored me, and to be further honest I needed people to ignore me. I¡¯m not even sure what the military would do if they found out I was sixteen, but I knew it wouldn¡¯t be good.


    At the end of the day anything was better than being back in the orphanages, church basements, rooftops, and alleys that I had been living in. And at least here I could do some good. I had done too many evil things in the name of self preservation, this was my chance to settle my cosmic score and become a hero. Maybe I was being a little too romantic about a morose situation. I had heard the horror stories of the men who had fought in Italy, limbs blown off, land mines so powerful that they could vaporize someone¡­ I wouldn¡¯t let that fear weigh me down, with service comes sacrifice.


    There was something else that always rattled around in my head, a saying of sorts. I wasn¡¯t even sure where I had heard it, but it meant a lot to me.


    The most important step a man can take, is the next one.


    That wasn¡¯t some simple saying to be heard and discarded. For some reason it just resonated with me. It meant more than the words that made up the sentence. In times of hardship that single sentence had always ran through my mind. It meant never give up, but it also meant keep going forward. I took that literally and morally. Morally in the sense that if there was a way to do the right thing, I would do it, even if I didn¡¯t want to. Take the next step, it¡¯s important, and right now the next step I¡¯m taking is the one that leads me up the steps into the C-47 SkyTrain. This was the airplane that would fly me and my friends towards the enemy, pure evil.


    We all piled in quickly and efficiently as we had been trained. Loading up with tons of soldiers into a tight space had become second nature to us. They had even hauled us around in converted horse trailers from range to range in basic training. The horse trailers were such a tight fit that some people had to stand against the walls on top of tiny benches that had been welded inside, and the remaining soldiers had to basically sit on those people¡¯s toes to fit. All while the drill sergeants rode ahead in comfy jeeps. Only taking breaks to yell at us if we couldn¡¯t get in or out fast enough. In comparison to the horse trailers, loading into the plane was easy.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    As we were waiting for the plane to take off, the ¡®class clown¡¯ of our platoon, Private Johnson, decided to break the ice.


    ¡°Who here has heard the joke about the German soldier on the train?¡± Everyone looked around preparing themselves for one of Johnson¡¯s signature jokes. Even our angry Platoon Sergeant stopped his walking inspection so he could listen, his normally screwed up face slackening for a moment, everyone loved Johnson''s jokes. As the plane quieted Johnson to this as his cue to begin.


    ¡°I got this joke via a letter from a cousin of mine who lives over in France. He says it¡¯s based on a true story¡­ A passenger train is fully loaded, and a German soldier on leave shares a compartment with a decrepit old lady, a buxom French girl, and a young French man. The appearance of the soldier ruins the mood of the entire compartment, especially as he begins to stare at the beautiful young woman. The train enters a tunnel, and no one can see anything. A kiss is heard, then a hollow slap.


    When the train comes out of the tunnel the German soldier has a horrible black eye.


    ¡®So lucky¡¯ thinks the German soldier. ¡®The French man gets the kiss and I get the blame!¡¯


    ¡®Well done, my girl!¡¯ thinks the old lady. ¡®You stood up the to the Kraut brute!¡¯


    The buxom girl is puzzled. ¡®Why would the German kiss that old lady?¡¯


    The Frenchman meanwhile thinks ¡®How clever I am! I kiss the back of my hand, slapped the German across the eyes, and no one suspects me!¡¯ Anyways, who knows if that story is true, I always liked it though,¡± says Johnson.


    The plane goes completely silent as the story sinks in on everyone, and then a raucous round of laughter and applause erupts as the soldiers around me discuss the story. I watch as even Neff¡¯s eyes light up as he finally catches up to the rest of us and understands the twist in the joke. His hounding deep laughter reverberates through the whole plane lightening our mood further. I can¡¯t help but think what Johnson just did was real magic.


    The plane starts to rumble and comes to life. Now the real fun begins. Neff grabs the bench next to me so hard that It looks like he is actually bending it a little.


    ¡°Whoa, calm down buddy we are going to be okay,¡± I say trying to placate him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like these things,¡± he says. So I pat his shoulder a bit until he calms down. I don¡¯t blame him, roaring through the night sky on a thin piece of aluminum powered by hopes and dreams is more than daunting, but if I look scared I could out myself for the scared kid that I really am, or even worse, upset Neff. If he bent that bench I would hate to see what he could do to the walls of this piece of junk. My stomach starts getting tingly and I get a bit dizzy as the plane ramps hard into the air. Staff Sergeant Murphy walks down the middle of the aisle continuing to inspect our gear without a care in the world that the plane is jerking around and swaying like a kite in a rough breeze.


    Ryan shouts over the roar of the engine ¡°Sweet Mary, Jesus, and Joseph, tell us a joke or something Johnson I¡¯m about to poop my pants over here.¡±


    ¡°No can do bud,¡± replied Johnson. ¡°I don¡¯t like this any more than you do, once the plane levels out maybe I can remember something funny.¡±


    The new Sargent on my squad, Sgt Roe, who just arrived a few days ago chimes in. There is something about his voice that carries a dark weight to it. ¡°Have faith boys, God is on our side.¡± His deep baritone voice doesn¡¯t match his almost wiry frame at all. I had heard rumors that he was hell on wheels when he fought the Nazis in Italy. If even half of them were true then I was more than happy to have him with us. Though I¡¯m still not sure that the Nazis won¡¯t just all run away after taking one look at Neff. The plane leveled and our Platoon Sergeants announced that we would have about a two-hour flight before jumping. Most of these guys were too amped up to sleep, but not me. I had a lifetime of practice sleeping in hostile environments so I leaned my head back and drifted off into darkness.

 Chapter 1.B

    Chapter 1.B


    A Few Months Back


    ¡°Billy! Where are you Billy!¡± I shouted as I run through the halls of the orphanage. The drywall was moldy in places and half of the lights dangling above from single strands of copper with no insulation around them were burnt out. The proprietor of this place was embezzling every extra penny intended for this place that he could.


    ¡°Ray Ray?¡± said a small voice from inside one of the darkened rooms. Most of the other kids went outside during the days here at the Orphanage, it was a way to escape this terrible place, just for a little while. Billy always stayed in though, he got sick and tired easily and the doctors couldn¡¯t figure out why. Running around outside with the other kids was just too much for him.


    ¡°Billy!¡± I shouted one more time before wrapping him up in a big hug.


    ¡°Did you bring it?¡± he shouted as he pulled away from me. I did indeed bring it. A coy smile lit my face which gave away the surprise. My smile must have been infectious because it quickly spread to Billy¡¯s face. ¡°Give it, give it, give it!¡± he shouted. I pulled the comic from the back of my pants just under my jacket where I had been hiding it. It was the original edition of the 1939 All American Comic, which introduced the Golden Age Green Lantern for the first time ever. Billy grabs it from me and starts shifting through the pages as fast as he can.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to go so fast, you own it now, it¡¯s yours. Also I¡¯ve got some more good news.¡±


    ¡°What is it,¡± asks Billy.


    ¡°I did it, I finally did it. I got into the Army. I leave next week for basic training.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s amazing Ray,¡± says Billy, but the quiver in his voice betrays him and I know he doesn¡¯t want me to go.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°It will just be for a few years and then I¡¯ll be back. I¡¯ll bring money and fame, and I¡¯ll buy us all our own house. A great big one with a backyard and a dog. I¡¯ll take you, and Marla, and all the good kids from here. We will have our own orphanage, but a good one, with good food, and games, and lots of lights, and no rats. All the good stuff.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if we can hold out that long without you, you protect us all. Even mean old Mr. Percy is nicer when you are around.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve thought of that. I¡¯ve collected some money. I¡¯ll spread it around a bit and leave some with you, and I¡¯ll talk to Mr. Percy before I go and make sure he treats everyone good while I¡¯m gone. Just hold out a few years. I¡¯ll go kill some Nazis, and come back here in my uniform and save us all.¡±


    ¡°You are going to be a hero Ray, like Green Lantern,¡± he says while holding up the comic book to a page showing the Lantern.


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re right buddy. Hey listen, stay here for a bit. I¡¯m going to go have that talk with Mr. Percy right now.¡± He solemnly nods at me and runs into the hallway to find one of the working bulbs to sit under so he can read. As I walk away he yells at my back ¡°A hero Ray! A hero!¡± I wipe the lone tear coming down my face. These people have too much faith in me. If they knew how many rich yuppies I robbed today to pay for their survival they wouldn¡¯t think me a hero at all.


    I slap each of my cheeks a few times and try to get my game face on. Then I flip out the butterfly knife that I use to rob the yuppies and swing it around a few times in intricate maneuvers. I need to put the fear of God into Mr. Percy. He needs to be so scared that he won¡¯t try any of his usual shenanigans on the kids while I¡¯m gone.


    ***


    ¡°Wake up babyface!¡± shouts Staff Sergeant Murphy. His yell rouses me from my dream and back to reality quickly. I idly wondered how the kids at the orphanage were doing, and I hoped Mr. Percy was treating them right¡­ Babyface, my other nickname besides Ozzy, short for my fake last name Osburn. The name had stuck when the guys in basic training had noticed that I never needed to shave like them. Some of them thought it was a weird genetic disorder, or they figured I was part redskin since the redskins don¡¯t shave. In reality it was because I was 16 and still going through my latest stages of puberty, but I had to hide that from everyone. Much like I had to hide or fabricate most of my past. I¡¯m not Ray from the orphanage anymore. I¡¯m Raymond Osburn, American Soldier.

 Chapter 2.A

    Chapter 2.A


    ¡°We are 10 minutes out,¡± shouted Staff Sargent Mahoney. ¡°Check the person beside you, check yourself, make sure everything is tied down tight. The parachutes should deploy quickly but until they do a human body will move at 122 miles per hour through the sky. Whatever isn¡¯t tied down will get ripped off. Once we land, make your way to the rally point. Remember our code phrase Thunder, and Flash. If someone yells Thunder, you yell Flash. If you don¡¯t yell Flash fast enough then the only flash you will be seeing or hearing is a muzzle flash from a firearm as you get shot repeatedly in the face.


    If I die in the jump or am gunned down by Nazis before I hit the rally point then command falls to Sgt. Rowe the new NCO,¡± said Staff Sargent Mahoney while pointing at the new guy. ¡°He just got off the front lines in Italy and transferred directly to us. The Lieutenant wanted more combat veterans jumping with us so you can thank him when you see him, and you should be thankful that Sgt. Rowe has decided to join us. He stacks up Nazis like cordwood. Sgt. Rowe would you like to say something?¡±


    Sgt. Rowe stood up wearily like an old man and stretched a bit, though I knew him to be in his late 20¡¯s.


    ¡°I don¡¯t relish the violence that will happen this day, but I¡¯ve made my peace with God and I recommend you all do the same. I walk in his light and I am an instrument of his hand. No evil can stand up to a man who fights with a righteous cause. I know this to be true,¡± he said while tapping his CIB on his uniform. A CIB is a Combat Infantry Badge. On the duty uniform, which is what we were wearing now, it looks like a wreath wrapped around a rifle. The badge denoted someone who had fought the enemy and lived.


    Sgt. Rowe was obviously insinuating that he had taken care of a whole mess of Nazis by pointing the badge out and he didn¡¯t think much of it. I was glad he was here. I made a note to myself to find the Lieutenant and buy him a beer when this was all over.


    Staff Sgt. Mahoney took the philosophical ¡®speech floor¡¯ once again walking down the center aisle of the airplane until he got to the door we would be jumping out of. ¡°This,¡± he said while pointing at a device that looked like a tiny traffic light just to the side of the door, except it only had red and green bulbs on it, no yellow. ¡°We only jump when this light goes green, and not before. Keep your composure people, listen to the NCO¡¯s, remember your training, and you will all be fine. Let¡¯s take out this Nazi scum and get home before Christmas.¡±


    Everyone in the plane excitedly shouted, ¡°CURAHEE!¡±


    ¡°Alright everyone, get ready.¡±


    Outside the window behind Johnson¡¯s head I see a flash. What the hell was that? Then another, and then the sound catches up. It sounded like the gates of hell had just opened up and the sounds are getting closer, a cacophony of zings, whirs, explosions, and metallic whines. The Staff Sargent opens the door and the roar of the wind drowns out our excited voices. The light above the door goes red, meaning don¡¯t jump. Then the plane in formation next to us explodes, the fire from the explosion lights up the inside of the cabin of our plane and our plane jerks around seemingly to avoid debris. Now I¡¯m really freaking out, but before I can say anything one of the other soldiers in my plane starts having a panic attack. I don¡¯t remember his name, he had just joined us a few days prior to get us up to deployment strength. PVT. Ryan is next to him trying to calm him down, but it¡¯s not going to work because at that moment the night sky lights up with tracers all around us.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Out of every window and the open door all we see is German tracers flying in every direction, some of them are cutting right across the cabins of our planes, but if they don¡¯t hit an engine or the pilots the planes can stay flying. Then the tracers are in our cabin cutting a bright line right down the aisle. I lift my legs up as quick as I can and tuck them into my chest to try and avoid the tracers flight, but Neff lifts me up and throws me away from them and then jumps himself. We land on a pile of people who had the same idea. I feel dampness on my chest and do a push up and look down and see blood.


    ¡°Oh my God,¡± I barely whisper, but someone must have heard because I¡¯m yanked to my feet and people are patting my chest trying to find the entry wound.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t him, it was me,¡± Johnson chokes out behind me leaning against the wall and holding his chest as a red stain slowly spreads out across his uniform below his hands. No, not him, please not him¡­ Light hearted Johnson with the golden stories that always improved our moods and made us laugh. My first instinct is to rush to him, but before I can our whole plane rocks again and the area where Johnson is sitting just disappears in flame as he is sucked away into the night sky, leaving a gaping hole where Johnson had just sat. Then the whole plane tilts downward at a sickening angle. I look up in time to see the staff sergeant clipping people¡¯s parachute release cords to a static line on the ceiling and throwing them out the door. The static line will ensure their parachutes deploy at the right time. I stand up and try to clip my own to the static line, but there is another explosion near the front of the plane and I look toward the cockpit and only see fire. I¡¯m out of time, I didn¡¯t think it would end this way.


    Strong hands grab my waist and a strap of my backpack and jerk me back a bit. I turn around and see Neff.


    ¡°Time to leave buddy, it¡¯s getting hot in here,¡± he says way too casually. Before I can reply the fire near the cockpit expands towards us and Neff pushes off hard with his legs carrying me with him right through the ragged tear in the side of the plane that Johnson had fell through. The night sky is ripping us in every direction and as we fall I see scraps of burning debris fly by us at terminal speeds. There is a patch of something especially dense burning in front of us and I wonder when my parachute will deploy, only to realize that we never connected to the static line¡­


    I try to curve my body away from the burning debris that we are falling directly towards but Neff is hanging onto me still and he is creating all kinds of wind resistance that I can¡¯t steer out of. I reach around and pull the extra parachute release on him and kick off of him as hard as I can. Even Neff¡¯s strength can¡¯t hold against the wind resistance that his deploying parachute is creating and he is ripped away from me. His parachute deployment slowing us down combined with the strength of my kick-off helps me easily clear the burning debris that we had been headed towards, and I hope that Neff cleared it too wherever he is... I pull my own parachute release realizing I¡¯m probably way too late and coming in way too fast, but everything is a blur now. My chute yanks me hard as it inflates with the wind and then branches are flying past me, scratching at me, and tearing at my uniform and gear. Something hits my face hard and then I¡¯m yanked to a stop. Everything is distorted and I¡¯m having trouble keeping my eyes open¡­


    I wake up a short time later when I feel something hard tap my face. ¡°Hey buddy, quit playing around, come down from there,¡± someone says, and then something else hits my face but harder this time. I open my eyes and see Neff is throwing pebbles at me, but he is way below me. What the heck is going on? I wonder, but then it all comes back to me, basic training, the tarmac, the plane ride, Johnson, the fall¡­ I look up and see my chute has been run through by at least thirty branches and I¡¯m dangling at least twenty-five feet up, maybe higher. I could die from a fall this high or break both of my legs. Think Ozzy, think! Why am I calling myself by my own fake last name now, this can¡¯t be healthy. The rope!


    We all got similar but slightly differing kits, half the squad was given ropes for reasons just like this. I reached into my bag until I got my rope out and tied it off to the branch nearest me. Then I pulled my trench knife which is like an awesome combination between brass knuckles and a large combat knife, and I started cutting away at my parachute strings. When I got down to the last few I wrapped the rope around my waist once, pinched some of it between my ankles, and held it down under one of my armpits just in case. I like redundancies when my life is on the line. Then I cut the remaining strings.

 Chapter 2.B

    Chapter 2.B


    Gravity immediately tried to rip me down and I precariously grabbed onto the rope with a more sturdy grip. The trench knife came in extra handy since I was able to not drop it due to my fingers being ran through the rungs on the brass knuckle portion. I just had to be careful to not cut my own rope with it in my haste to get a better grip. I slid it back into its sheath and carefully shimmied down the rope. Being 16 made this extra easy since I was light and full of stamina that the older guys couldn¡¯t match. I hit the ground and Neff wrapped me in a giant hug, this was the most emotion I had ever seen out of the guy.


    ¡°You¡­ You..¡± he stammered.


    ¡°What Neff?¡±


    ¡°You saved my life Ozzy, the parachute¡­ I wouldn¡¯t have thought of that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what friends are for buddy. Besides you saved me when you threw me out of the plane, but... Johnson¡­ I just wish we could have helped Johnson.¡±


    ¡°Maybe he pulled the cord on his chute too.¡±


    ¡°Yeah maybe,¡± I say, not really believing it. He was losing too much blood. The bushes rattle behind us and I immediately go for my gun only to realize that it¡¯s still stored in a waterproof bag secured around my waist, no no no. Neff¡¯s sub-machine gun is also secured in the same style. As I struggle to get my weapon free Neff reaches down and grabs a very large fallen branch and throws it like an Olympian throwing a Javelin. Despite the awkward shape, and the dead leafs sticking off of it, the branch flies true directly towards the offending bush. A second before it hits Sgt Rowe rolls out, the branch narrowly missing him, and aims his M1 Garand directly at my face.


    ¡°Stand down privates!¡± he shouts before lowering his weapon slightly. ¡°You about took my damn head off with that throw. Get your actual weapons out, this isn¡¯t the gladiatorial games, we are at war!¡± I comply with the order as fast as I can and get my own M1 Garand loaded and ready. Neff gets his own weapon out, a Thompson submachine gun that takes 50 round stick magazines. In the movies and the papers all the gangsters use those enormous drum magazines, but those things are finicky and jam often. That¡¯s why the Army uses the more reliable stick mags.


    Sgt. Rowe walks over to us, ¡°As pissed as I am that you two didn¡¯t have your weapons out, I have to begrudgingly admit that that was one hell of a throw Neff.¡±


    ¡°Thank you Sargent!¡± Neff replied excitedly.


    ¡°Hell of a throw sergeant?¡± I asked, questioning his word choice. I thought this guy was religious?


    ¡°I¡¯m religious, that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m a saint. I can curse if I damn well please, the Lord understands that I am only human. Now enough horsing around, let¡¯s keep our voices down and our eyes peeled as we make our way to the rally point,¡± said Sgt Neff while pulling a compass and map out of his bag. ¡°Gather round!¡± he barks in a rough whisper. I got the point, from this moment on we had to keep our voices down. Once we were nearby and he had the map spread out before him in the dirt he pulled out his flashlight with a red filter on it. The red light would be impossible to see from a distance at night, it was an Army trick to view maps at night without giving away your position to the enemy.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°So look here,¡± said Sgt Row, pointing his finger at a specific spot on the map. ¡°I think we are in this region. We were a few minutes out from jumping at our actual drop point which is up here, but then the plane was hit. So we are now roughly in this region. Our rally should be just west of us. We will have to just move that general direction until we hit a landmark. At which point we can shoot a more accurate heading with the compass.¡± He stood up with his compass to his eye and then pointed his finger in what I assumed to be west. ¡°That way, spread out just enough so that one landmine can¡¯t kill us all.¡±


    Well that was a terrifying thought and something I hadn¡¯t even been considering¡­ I popped my bayonet onto the end of my rifle and started poking at the ground at random intervals as we walked. For some reason I found the concept of being defeated by an inanimate object before I even saw my first Nazi to be humiliating. There was no honor in that. The moon was barely out which made it exceedingly hard to see. I was okay with that because it meant if I could barely see, then the Nazis could barely see me. This left noise as the only way to expose myself to the enemy so I tried to move silently.


    I could just barely see Sgt. Rowe moving through the trees next to me, unfortunately I could hear Neff just to the right of him moving like an elephant and snapping branches at random. Sgt. Rowe must have come to the same conclusion as me because he hissed in Neff¡¯s direction and threw him the hand signal to move quietly. Sgt. Rowe then looked over at me and gave me the signal to bound forward. Another classic infantry technique for small teams like this. Each man ¡®bounds¡¯ forward one at a time and scans in all directions. Then the next in line bounds past him and does the same. It¡¯s a good way to move quickly without exposing your entire combat element, and it always leaves the bulk of your element in a ¡®watch¡¯ type position which is meant for scanning for potential enemies and covering the advance of those moving forward. In a three-man fireteam like this, we always had two men scanning as we moved. Sgt. Rowe was smart to use this tactic, so far he had repeatedly shown himself to be a proficient NCO. For the third or fourth time that night I came to the conclusion that I was extremely grateful to have him with us.


    We moved that way for a while, bounding forward through the dark trees as quietly as we could. It was hard not to fall into a mindless rhythm with repetitive activities like this, but I had to remind myself that doing that could get you killed and that had been stressed hardily by my combat veteran instructors during training. Complacency kills and the first time I fall into a rhythm and start waiting for my turn to move instead of accurately scanning could be the time that I miss something and get myself and my friends killed. Stay alert Ozzy.


    There I go again with referring to myself by that name, but I hadn¡¯t chosen that name at random had I. No, there had been a very good reason for that particular name choice¡­ My attention was snapped back to the sergeant as he held his fist up. The universal sign for stop, he was in the forward position of our small formation, he could see something we couldn¡¯t. He turned around and looked right at me and Neff and waved his hands towards himself and then put one finger on his lips, come forward quietly.


    I did as he asked and soon all three of us crouched shoulder to shoulder. I could see why he had alerted us now. Just ahead of us the trees ended and a clearing started. The clearing ahead was a small circle and resting smack dab in the middle of the circular clearing was a wicked looking little church. Most of the windows were broken and the whole church was slanted in one direction as if the wind had bent the entire structure. Mold and strange looking mushrooms grew on parts of it, large spiderwebs crawled from the ground up to the eves on it. It looked very haunted and evil. And at the front of the church stood two Nazi sentries...

 Chapter 3

    Chapter 3


    Sgt. Rowe slowly crept back through the forest hunched over as much as he could while staying silent. He only moved us thirteen feet or so back, just enough to have a low voiced conversation apparently because he chose that moment to fill us in on what he was thinking.


    ¡°We need to take them quietly,¡± he said.


    ¡°We have the advantage here Sargent, why not just gun them down from the tree line?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Because we don¡¯t know where we are, this church isn¡¯t on the map, and if there are more Nazi forces in the area, then gunning these two down could be the equivalent of kicking a beehive. Besides they could have a radio in there, remember our mission. We need to shut down and disrupt as much Nazi communication as we can. Besides if these two are guarding this rundown shanty, then something important is inside.¡±


    Somewhere behind us back near the church a bright light was being shined into the trees, I wondered if we had been overheard. Contrary to my initial reaction to scatter into the forest, Sgt. Rowe instead cantered his head to one side like an interested dog and crept back towards the clearing. The lights abruptly shut off. What the heck is going on now? Me and Neff looked at each other and shrugged then crept after the apparently fearless Sargent back to our former position. Some kind of open top all black European automobile had pulled up right in front of the church. It looked sleek and fast.


    A very large German officer unfolded himself from the driver¡¯s seat. I couldn¡¯t tell his exact rank from the tree line in the dark, but his uniform was decorated like a Christmas tree. I could see his muscles straining his dress uniform. This guy might have even been a bit bigger than Neff and that was saying something. Out of the passenger seat came one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I lost that train of thought though when I saw her Nazi uniform... She was also an officer of some sort but a much lower rank than the driver. Despite the fact that she was Nazi scum, I still couldn¡¯t ignore her stunning figure and movie star features. Her dress uniform was just like his except she wore a long skirt instead of pants, and instead of muscles her curves pushed her uniform out in all of the right ways.


    The two officers promptly walked up the steps of the church and the two guards gave them the Nazi salute and held it until after they passed fully inside. One of the guards risked a glance inside the church for a split second, I would bet anything that he was trying to get a peek at her backside. I felt someone pull at my uniform and saw it was Sgt. Rowe motioning me closer, Neff was already next to him. He grabbed the back of my head and Neffs and pulled our faces so close to his that our skin was almost touching before he began to whisper.


    ¡°Alright men, we have the chance to capture two Nazi officers and a possible strategic target, we can¡¯t pass this up. Neff you are too loud, you stay here. Ozzy is going to go to the right and sneak through the tree line until he gets to the back of the church, I¡¯m going to go to the left and do the same. Once we are on the backside of the church we will sneak forward and signal you. At that point you cause a distraction and we will take the guards. Stay quiet, we don¡¯t want to alert those inside.¡±


    When he finished speaking he pointed at me and pointed to the wood line on our right and then he disappeared into the dark woods behind me creeping along his own path. Following orders had been ingrained into me through months of perilous and physically demanding training. So without a thought I was moving along the tree line as quietly as I could, leaving three or four layers of trees at any one point in time in between me and the Nazi door guard¡¯s view. As I walked inevitably towards my goal I couldn¡¯t help but feel an extreme amount of stress and anxiety. I was about to jump a Nazi, what the heck was I doing here? I¡¯m just a dumb orphan.


    Those thoughts left my mind when I saw Sgt. Rowe run out of the woodline and crouch along the back of the church. It was just a big rectangle and there were no guards out back so the two guards in the front had no view of us. There were some windows on this side, but they were stained glass and partially boarded up so I wasn¡¯t too worried about people inside spotting us. I ran across the small opening as quietly as I could, staying as low as I could until I was next to him.


    Some of my gear rattled on the way over and I dearly wished I had offloaded some of it before making this excursion. He pointed to the left side of the church and then at me. Without further direction or warning, he then began to creep around the back right hand corner of the church and out of my view. I did as he ordered and crept along the left side of the building keeping my head below the sporadic windows. Sweat from my forehead threatened to fall into my eyes so I wiped at it with my uniform sleeve. I had no way to see Sgt. Rowe from my position and I didn¡¯t dare poke my head around the corner for fear that the Nazis would see me.


    I pulled my rifle off of my shoulder and began to wave it in the air back and forth in big lazy arcs towards the woods, hoping Neff would notice it and create a distraction. Sgt. Rowe was probably on the other side of the church signaling Neff somehow as well. Neff must have seen one of us because great plums of smoke began coming out of the wood line and the two Nazi guards immediately saw it. I risked a glance around the corner and saw them both step forward to investigate in unison. At the other corner of the church I saw Sgt. Rowe¡¯s head sticking forward, he gave me the thumbs up and started creeping forward so I did as well. I was terrified at this moment, but if I failed it could end up with Neff or Rowe getting shot, I couldn¡¯t fail.


    I switched the grip on my rifle and reluctantly took my right hand out of the trigger guard and put it on the buttstock. I would need this grip to get more leverage, but not being ready to fire was going against all of my training and survival instincts. The Nazis were still walking towards the smoke and talking excitedly, I was praying that one didn¡¯t turn around to alert those inside or they would see me and gun me down. I was trying to stay on line with Sgt. Rowe¡¯s forward movement and we were both only about eight more feet away from the Nazis.


    At that moment something in my kit rattled. One of the Nazi¡¯s began to turn around, then I saw Neff walk out of the woodline and through the smoke, brazen and defiant. The Nazi not turning towards me yelled ¡°Scheisse.¡° Which caused his partner to stop turning my direction. Time slowed down for me, either Neff was going to get gun downed or we were, this was a critical moment. My adrenaline dump and my vision darkened, but to my surprise I was already running forward. I had to be loud as a charging rhino because the Nazi once again began turning my way despite the obvious danger that Neff presented at his back. Before he even got a chance to look at me I jumped, I have no idea why, it just felt right at the time. As I came down I shoved the buttstock forward for all I was worth. It connected to the Nazi¡®s temple with audible crack sound and his eyes snapped closed, he fell over like a sack of potatoes.


    Next to me I heard a scuffle. I turned towards it feeling lightheaded and for some reason guilty for hitting the Nazi. The second Nazi and Sgt. Rowe were¡­ Boxing? Somehow the Nazis weapon was on the ground and Sgt. Rowe and him were having a good old fashioned fist fight. I must have been in shock because I didn¡®t even try to help him. I couldn¡®t do anything except watch as they exchanged blows. Sgt. Rowe was quick and wiry, but the Nazi was large and strong, it made for an interesting bout. Or what would have been interesting if our lives weren¡®t dangling in the proverbial wind.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Before I could come to my senses and help him Neff was there. He grabbed the Nazi and threw him like a sack of potatoes at the side of the church. The Nazi crashed into the stone foundation and lost consciousness.


    ¡°Well done, the both of you,¡± said Sgt. Rowe. ¡°Now Neff, go get that smoke grenade you deployed and bury it. If opposition sees that smoke we will be overrun. Go, now, double time soldier!¡° Neff ran off to disable the smoke grenade and before I had time to think Sgt. Rowe was giving me orders as well. ¡°Pvt. Osburn secure these men¡¯s weapons and tie them up. I need to check the interior of the church. As soon as you are done, quietly head inside.¡±


    Wow I hadn¡¯t even been thinking about the church interior. There were those two Nazi officers somewhere inside and maybe more since they found this location appealing for some reason. Sgt. Rowe quickly sprinted towards the entrance to the church and moved inside at a quiet crouch. I didn¡¯t hear any gunfire so I had to assume that he was alright. Besides I had to get these two tied up before they woke. I dug into my right cargo pocket and pulled out a bundle of extra parachute cord. A bunch of us carried this stuff, I couldn¡¯t think of an explicit reason why I had brought it but I¡¯m glad I did because it was coming in handy now. I had to admit to myself that in my naivety I had envisioned myself using it to secure a tent or some nonsense¡­


    The first thing I did was pull the Nazi that Neff had thrown at the wall over to his buddy and I lined them up head to toe side by side. I figured if I tied them up this way they would have trouble coordinating an escape effort. I wanted to pat them down but I was afraid they would wake up so I tied their hands. I had never tied someone up before, I wasn¡¯t sure what kind of knots to use, I was nervous as all hell, and I still had mild tunnel vision from my adrenaline dump, but I did my best. Once that was done I felt confident that I could beat up two concussed and bound men, if it came to that, so I began my search.


    I patted all up and down their bodies, emptied their pockets, opened their coats, and everything I found I piled up. I ended up with two MP40¡¯s which were supposed to be really nice submachine guns. Basically the equivalent to our Thompsons. I think Neff had taken a class on German weapons, I would give these to him. I also landed two Lugers, which are nice pistols. Extra magazines for both of the weapon sets. Several different knives, most of which were emblazoned with swastikas. Some German and French currency, some German chocolate, some playing cards, a map of the region that was similar to ours, two German canteens one of which smelled like alcohol, a gold ring, and two necklaces.


    The necklaces really threw me off, they were simple affairs made of what felt like a leather string, with a golden pendant on the end. The pendant was a perfect golden circle with a raised relief on it. The relief was a circle with a smaller circle inside of it. The smaller circle had twelve ¡®S¡¯ like spokes coming out of it that had hard angry angles in the bends. The spokes connected the larger circle to the smaller circle. I wasn¡¯t sure what the symbol was but it gave me a bad feeling. I loaded up all of the miscellaneous items and threw them into my bag, including the canteens full of booze and water. I attached one of the pistols with the holster it came with to my belt and took half of the ammunition for it.


    Neff came running out of the treeline and headed over to me. He helped me tie the Nazis up further. We made sure to connect the lines binding their hands to the opposing nazi¡¯s ankles as well, that way if they tried to get up they would just pull the other person down. Then I showed Neff the two MP40¡¯s and the remaining pistol. He attached the pistol to his belt with its holster just like I had done. Then he threw his Thompson up the back of his shoulder and tightened the sling it was on so it wouldn¡¯t shift around. After that he picked up both of the MP40¡¯s and loaded all of the extra ammunition for them into his bag.


    ¡°Whoa, you are going to take them both?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a big guy,¡± replied Neff matter-of-factly. ¡°Where did the Sargent go?¡± he asked. I pointed to the darkened front door of the church. Neff moved forward and entered leaving me no real choice except to rush in after him. I wondered which weapon would be better indoors, the new pistol or the Garand¡­ I settled on my Garand because it was familiar. It was slung over my shoulder so I pulled it down and got a good combat grip on it. The inside of the church was really dark at first, but there was a red muted glow coming from somewhere in the back, outlining the silhouette of Sgt. Rowe. He had his weapon pointed downward at a depression in the floor that I couldn¡¯t quite make out from my position just inside the doorway.


    I moved through the dark church noticing strange stains on the ground in the gloom, and large chunks of rotted wood which I guessed had once been the pews. I stopped for a second as my eyes scanned around and noticed strange divots in the floor. I reached down and rubbed my fingers across them, three large gouges. Each gouge was inches apart¡­ I couldn¡¯t even imagine what kind of animal had made these. I racked my brain and tried to remember if there were lions in Germany, I never did get much of an education... I rushed the rest of the way over to Sgt. Rowe excited to tell him about my find, but when I got to his location all thoughts of my discovery were shrouded by his.


    He was aiming his weapon into what I thought had been a depression before, but now I could see it was a stairwell leading down. At the end of the stairwell was a hallway but I couldn¡¯t see where it was heading due to the angle. All I could see was that it was the source of the strange red light illuminating the sergeant. I had been so surprised by the hallway discovery that I hadn¡¯t noticed that the walls of the stairway looked strange and misshapen. It was hard to tell why in the extremely dim light. I felt at them, they felt smooth. The piece I was rubbing which was a bit rounded and felt loose, like the mortar that was holding it in place was failing. I tugged on it and it fell out into my hands, revealing it to be much larger than just its surface area. I rolled it over and-- I dropped it. It smacked the floor and rolled once, it was a human skull. My eyes darted again to the grotesque walls, now that I knew what I was looking for I could make out the shapes of different bones carefully wedged into the wall, thousands of them, human bones¡­


    Neff, and Rowe saw my discovery, their faces were just as shocked as mine. ¡°What is this place?¡± I exclaimed in a loud whisper.


    ¡°This is not a house of God,¡± replied the Sergeant. Something about what he had just said reminded me of the strange pendants. I pulled one out and handed it to him.


    ¡°I found one of these on each of the Nazi¡¯s outside.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard rumors of this, it¡¯s called The Black Sun. It¡¯s had many different meanings over the ages, but it¡¯s strongly tied to the occult and dark forces,¡± said Sgt. Rowe who then handed me back the necklace in a hurry, as if he didn¡¯t want to touch it any longer than he had to. I stowed the necklace away in one of my pockets. Without saying anything further Sgt. Rowe started moving down the stairs. I looked at Neff who had a blank expression on his face, I shrugged my shoulders and he shrugged his and we followed Rowe down the stairs. As we descended the red light grew brighter.


    Once we hit the corridor at the bottom, I could see it quickly turned into a bent passageway. The light was coming from around the bend. Sgt. Rowe again gave us the hand signal to stay quiet and we all crept forward. Once we crested around the bend we could see an intersection of sorts just ahead of us. There was a dark passageway heading diagonally left, one just as dark heading diagonally right, and in the middle straight ahead of us between them was a set of very old fashioned arched double doors. They were cracked open a few inches, the crack was where the red light was coming from.


    I glanced again at the grisly walls and noticed the care and work that must have gone into placing the bones here. I also noticed that some of the bones had scratch marks on them, big ones¡­

 Chapter 4

    Chapter 4


    From ahead of us there were voices coming through the double doors. We were too far away to make them out clearly, so we crept closer. It was a man and a woman speaking in German, with some strange muffled whimpers barely noticeable behind their voices. Presumably the voices belonged to the Nazi officers we had seen before but what was with the strange whimpering? Sgt. Rowe¡¯s brazenness in the face of extreme situations never failed to surprise me, because with no preamble he ran up to the double doors and began peeking through the crack. He waved us forward. I did my best to bounce on the soles of my feet and not make a noise as I approached. Neff was right behind me.


    It was awkward, but I maneuvered my body next to the Sergeants and peeked through the crack with him. The right door was open a few inches so we could only see into the right side of the room. I could see the room was brightly lit and the red light source was coming from somewhere off to my left, somewhere I couldn¡¯t see, but what I could see startled me. People in prisoner¡¯s outfits, lots of them, all gagged and arranged in a tight row against the back wall, and tied down tightly to devices that looked like a mover¡¯s dolly. Each one had straps that went over their legs and arms and then somewhere behind the dolly. They were all in some state of shock, squirming, and crying as they tried to escape their bonds, not being able to properly scream through their leather gags. Somewhere off to the left, outside of my view, the Nazi officer¡¯s conversation carried on. Sgt. Rowe grabbed the shoulder of my uniform and yanked me back, and we walked back down the hall a bit. Neff took a quick peek through the crack and then followed us.


    I couldn¡¯t hold in my thoughts anymore, so I whispered to the Sargent ¡°What the heck was going on in there? Were those prisoners? Were they Jews?¡±


    ¡°No, they looked like locals, Frenchies,¡± replied Sgt. Rowe. Neff stayed quiet.


    ¡°What the hell do they plan on doing to them?¡±


    The sergeant''s face contorted slightly at my casual use of the word hell before he replied ¡°Not sure, but if I had to guess, that red light is involved. Let¡¯s not wait and find out. The right side was clear, and it sounded like it was still just the two of them in there. I don¡¯t like these two other passages here but they sound quiet. So when we go in, Neff, you close and bar the doors behind us so no one can surprise us from behind.¡±


    ¡°Yes Sargent,¡± Neff whispered tersely and quietly.


    We didn¡¯t wait any longer, I could tell Sgt. Rowe was in a hurry to help those people, I was too. We rushed the doors, all thoughts of stealth left my mind. The Sargent switched his weapon to a one-handed grip in his right hand and then used his left hand to crank open the left door. I was right behind him with my cheek welded to the stock of my M1 Garand and my eyes down the sights. I didn¡¯t even focus on the Sargent¡¯s position, I just trusted my feet and smoothly carried myself into the room walking sideways with my weapon trained on the origin point of the voices. I completely fell back on my training and muscle memory.


    Sure enough the Nazi officers were there, and so... so much more. They were smiling, the suckers were actually smiling, and I realized why a second later. Behind them was a swirling and glowing, angry red mass of light made of some unknown substance. It was almost a perfect circle about eight feet tall and eight feet wide just floating in the air about six inches off of the floor. It quietly hummed at a frequency I had never heard before, and the border of it wobbled, tilted, and contracted at random. Staring into it hurt the fabric of my mind in ways I couldn¡¯t explain.


    The Nazi officers stood in front of it, calmly sipping on some kind of red wine from giant ornate goblets, they hadn¡¯t budged and they looked as happy as a couple of pigs in mud despite standing in the bottom of some kind of demon church, standing in front of an unearthly swirling mass of red energy, and having three American soldiers point guns in their faces. The male officer looked even bigger now that I was up closer to him, and the female officer¡­ well she looked great, for Nazi filth that is...


    I heard a slam behind me then I saw Neff come into my peripheral vision with both of the MP40¡¯s aimed at the Nazi¡¯s and I relaxed a bit, he must have just sealed the doors behind us. The Nazi officers did have pistols at their belts but they made no move to go for them. Some of the Frenchies tied to the dollies started squealing more and more and rocking back and forth. One of them fell forward, his face crunching into the stone floor. I wanted to help him but was too afraid to take my weapon off of the enemy.


    The male officer spoke up in heavily accented English ¡°Welcome Americans, you are just in time for an amazing show.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t wait any longer, I was worried about the Frenchy who had fallen over ¡°Sargent!¡± I shouted, Rowe looked over at me. ¡°Permission to help the man who fell?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, be quick about it.¡±


    I rushed over to him and instead of lifting him up right away, I loosened his straps which I could now see were secured to the back of the dolly via some kind of hook and latch system. I quickly unhooked them, then helped the man to his feet. His face was a mask of blood where his head and nose had smacked the stone floor. I lifted his shirt a bit and pushed it at his nose ¡°Hold it there,¡± I said.


    ¡°Merci monsieur.¡±


    ¡°Right, uh, stay here and don¡¯t get in the way, and don¡¯t leave either. This area is dangerous. Oh, wow, do you even speak English?¡± I asked. The man shook his hand in the air, tilting it left and right with his palm down, indicating kind of. Behind me Sgt. Rowe was yelling for the Nazis to keep their hands away from their weapons. I stood up and brought my M1 Garand back into a good firing position and pointed it right at the Nazi¡¯s once more, and then got back in a good firing line with Neff and Sgt. Rowe so they could see me in position.


    ¡°Last chance to throw those weapons on the ground,¡± said Sgt. Rowe with a barely controlled boiling fury. ¡°You look like the higher rank,¡± said Sgt. Rowe while pointing his weapon at the male officer ¡°So let¡¯s do this, in three seconds I¡¯m going to shoot your girlfriend there in the knee cap if your weapons aren¡¯t safely on the ground.¡±


    I could tell from his tone that Sgt. Rowe meant it and I hoped the male Nazi officer took him seriously because I did not want to see what an exploded knee cap looked like.


    ¡°One!¡± counted Sgt. Rowe, the Nazi officer clinked his goblet against that of his female counterparts and they both just smiled. ¡°TWO,¡± shouted Sgt. Rowe, while aiming his weapon right at the female¡¯s kneecap.


    Before Sgt. Rowe could say another word the male Nazi officer yelled ¡°Drei!¡± which is German for three. He lifted his free hand that his goblet of wine wasn¡¯t in and thrust it towards the ceiling. That¡¯s when I felt my feet lift off of the floor. The next thing I knew I was rushing towards the stone ceiling, my feet sweeping upwards as I cartwheeled my arms to try and regain balance. I smacked into the slightly arched stone ceiling hard, face first. Up had somehow become down, gravity had turned against us.


    I struggled to stand up, even though I realized I was now laying on the ceiling, but it felt like an elephant was sitting on my back. I couldn¡¯t even turn my head to look around, as it was pinned to the ceiling along with all of my limbs, too heavy to move. My weapon was still in my hands but it was trapped between my body and the ceiling, my training had held and I had managed to hold onto it through our strange upward descent. It was like we were made of metal and the ceiling was some kind of super magnet.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Somewhere below us came the voice of the male Nazi, ¡°You Americans are so rude, haven¡¯t you ever heard of a proper introduction and manners? Allow me to introduce myself, I am Colonel Eichmann, and my beautiful associate here is Lieutenant Wagner. Now, we are expecting some very important company to arrive any second, and he doesn¡¯t like disorder. So I am left with the question of what to do with you three. If you had been a bit more polite I may have offered you a job, but that is now off of the table you see. Hmm, I could crush you into the ceiling...¡±


    We all felt even more pressure on our backs, like a giant machine was slowly pushing us upwards into the stone. The pain was starting to become unbearable and I felt something in my shoulders pop. Then it stopped abruptly and the Nazi began speaking again.


    ¡°But that would be quite messy. I¡¯d like to present myself and my gifts here to my guest in a civilized setting. Having your.. remains strewn about just won¡¯t do. Let me think, let me think¡­ I could present you as part of the harvest with the rest of these poor fools, but my powers aren¡¯t quite that refined just yet, and you might be able to fire those weapons of yours if I used anything less than lethal force on you.¡±


    Somewhere below us a metallic sounding tang hit the floor.


    ¡°VAT VAS DAS!¡± The Nazi shouted, his accent coming through more so than usual.


    ¡°That noise was the pin on my grenade,¡± said Sgt Rowe who was also pinned to the ceiling. ¡°You¡¯re going to lower us to the floor slowly or I¡¯m going drop this thing.¡±


    ¡°If you drop that grenade in an enclosed room like this, you will kill us all.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m ready to face my God, are you ready to face yours?¡±


    Whatever power was being used to hold us to the ceiling slackened enough for me to take the first deep breath that I had taken in a while. After that, I was able to flop my head over and turn it a bit to peer down at the Nazis. The large male Nazi, Colonel Eichmann he had called himself, had one of his hands outstretched towards us with his palm facing upwards. His face was covered in sweat and his features were tight like he was straining. As I stared at his palm I swear I could see a slight red light emanating from it. The female officer next to him, I believe he had called her Lieutenant Wager, had her hand on the grip of the pistol in her belt, having already undone the leather retention flap that normally covered it. She looked very unsure.


    I must have misjudged her though because in some kind of flashy move with a speed that she didn¡¯t look capable of she had taken the pistol out of Colonel Eichmann¡¯s belt, jumped behind him, placed his own pistol to his temple, and then aimed her personal pistol at us.


    ¡°Okay gentleman,¡± she said in a British accent that didn¡¯t look right coming from someone who was wearing a Nazi uniform. ¡°That will be enough of that. Colonel Eichmann if you could slowly lower these three to the floor without making any sudden movements that would be grand. Sgt. Rowe if you could refrain from releasing that grenade you would make me quite a happy little peach.¡±


    ¡°Lt. Wagner, VAT ARE YOU DOING!¡± shouts Eichmann.


    ¡°Well, actually my code name is Sparrow. Lt. Wagner is my cover,¡± she coyly replies.


    ¡°You are a spy?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and I think I have enough to report back now, and I would like to be in one piece to report back. So again, everyone move quite slowly and let''s not play the who can survive a grenade to the face game.¡±


    For a second no one moved and the woman named Sparrow who was apparently a spy pushed the barrel of her gun deeper into Eichmann¡¯s temple.


    ¡°Let¡¯s not try any fancy magic tricks on me now Colonel. I do believe I can pull the trigger on this faster than you can move me. Now get to lowering those gentlemen there.¡±


    I felt myself slowly begin to sink back to the ground. It was a sickening feeling, and I had just enough time to think about how over my head I was in this situation. I was in some kind of evil church in a Mexican standoff with a Nazi wizard and a beautiful spy. My only allies were a crazy religious zealot and an imbecile with herculean strength¡­ Or maybe I¡¯m just a bit too pragmatic in stressful situations... I could trust these two, Rowe was a tried and true veteran and Neff would fight like a wild bear when pushed. Wizards and spies be damned, we are going to to do this!


    The second my feet were back on the ground I raised my weapon back to my shoulder, I didn¡¯t care what kind of fancy mojo this guy was slinging if he tried something again I was going to ventilate him. Even though this situation was way above my pay grade, my plan now was to take Colonel Eichmann and the damsel into custody, and turn them into command. Well, that was my plan until something heavy hit Sgt. Rowe right in the back of the head.


    I heard Sgt. Rowe yelp and saw him fall forwards so I spun my weapon in his general direction. Behind him stood the Frenchmen I had helped up earlier, he was holding a candle base made of dark wood, the candle base had screaming faces etched into it. My eyes shifted to the Frenchman''s face, something had changed. His eyes were glowing with an inner light, a red light, the same shade as the red glowing mass in the room¡­ The Frenchman''s face split into an insane smile, the corners of his mouth rising ever so slowly towards his ears. I watched in horror as the smile widened far past what should have been possible for a human. I felt my hands begin to shake, this was a whole new level of stress for me.


    ¡°Enough nonsense, Shoot him Private Osburn! Neff, Shoot Eichmann,¡± yelled Sgt. Rowe as he touched the back of his head and saw his hand come away bloody.


    The Frenchman started advancing on me and he raised the wooden candle base high over his head as if to strike me down with it. I pointed my rifle right at his face, and hesitated. I couldn¡¯t shoot a man I had just cared for. Next to me Neff yelled ¡°I can¡¯t get a clear shot Sargent, the dame is too close to him. I¡¯ll Swiss cheese them both if I fire these things,¡± said Neff who was talking about the two German automatic weapons he was still carrying.


    ¡°Now wait a minute,¡± yelled the pretty lady who had said her code name was Sparrow.


    The Frenchman swung on me and I jumped out of the way a second before impact. My leg shot out on instinct and I connected with his knee cap. I had been strength training for months and my kick had landed true. I felt the man¡¯s knee crunch and shatter below my foot, but he didn¡¯t go down. Instead an inhuman voice broiled out of his throat ¡°Ouu, that tickled.¡±


    Things were escalating too fast and everyone was distracted. That¡¯s why we didn¡¯t see Colonel Eichmann make a fist with his open hand and sharply pull his arm backwards. The move must have been connected to whatever arcane forces he was wielding because my feet were yanked out from under me and I was sliding across the floor, straight towards the giant glowing red mass. I saw Neff right next to me sliding along with me. I reached out trying to snag my free hand on furniture while simultaneously trying to plant my heels into one of the gaps between the stones lining the floor, nothing helped. Every attempt I made to slow my momentum only sped me up somehow. My only option became obvious, I had to stop the person causing this.


    Colonel Eichmann was only about six feet ahead of me standing just in front of the red energy, we were all sliding towards him. He must have also caught the Sparrow lady in his magic as well because I saw her fall into the red mass and disappear, that would happen to me next if I didn''t do something. It was hard with how much I was being tossed around but I oriented my rifle at Eichmann and started letting off shots, they missed him because I was having to shoot straight down from perspective since I was falling horizontally across the floor and having to avoid shooting my own feet, but it was enough to distract him for a second.


    The magic cut off and I rolled to a stop right next to him. Neff was right next to me and Sgt. Rowe was still slowly rolling forward and losing momentum. Sgt. Rowe stopped inches before the red energy, I noticed he still had the primed grenade clenched in one of his hands. I tried to raise my rifle again, but Eichman came out of nowhere and stepped on the barrel before I could even lift it, pinning it to the floor. Neff must have tried something to help me because I saw Eichman wave his hand and then Neff was flying through the air, he collided with the red energy disc and disappeared.


    ¡°You bastard!¡± I shouted as I tried to lift my rifle. Eichman also casually waved at Sgt. Rowe and sent him flying into the red mass. Then I remembered the Nazi pistol I had taken earlier, the Luger. I took my right hand off of my rifle and sent it down towards the Luger and began to draw. Eichman noticed and made a quick hand gesture and I was sailing through the air as well directly at the red energy disc, destined to be swallowed up just like my friends had been. The sling on my rifle brought my primary weapon with me as I flew, I also had it decently gripped with my left hand but the sling was doing most of the word. With the Luger pistol in my right hand, the last thing I did before I hit the demonic red energy was fire off a shot at Eichman. As my back hit the red energy I began to burn or that is what it felt like, and I swear I saw Eichmann grab the side of his face and fall over. Good at least I was taking the bastard with me.

 Chapter 5-Stay Alive

    Chapter 5


    I was falling, falling through harsh red light and red mist. The sensation of weightlessness hit me and my muscle memory kicked in. There is a certain way to fall and a certain way to land, it¡¯s one of the first things you learn in Army Airborne school. If you want to avoid injury you need to master falling and landing, and I had practiced it countless times. Red volcanic looking soil was coming into focus below me through the mist and it was coming up fast. I went into a textbook PLF which stands for Parachute Landing Fall. Or it would have been textbook if I wasn¡¯t landing on the side of a mountain. My ankles didn¡¯t immediately shatter so I must have done something right, but I was carrying so much momentum I couldn¡¯t bleed off that I basically ping pong balled right off the side and kept on bouncing.


    I can¡¯t recommend bouncing down a mountain, it hurts. The first couple of times I bounced I landed on my back and side in loose shale like gravel, those weren¡¯t so bad. Sure getting my bones and muscles kneaded like putty wasn¡¯t fun, but compared to hitting boulders it wasn¡¯t so bad. Life is all about perspective, which is why of course my next fall landed me on a boulder.


    I was still loosely gripping my captured Luger in my right hand, and I had my left arm stuck out in front of me to take the brunt of the damage, but the rock outcropping came up too fast. I hit with my palm out and felt more than heard the crack. Lightning raced up my arm and then my body hit. I was still falling fast so I just kept on rolling after my collision with the boulder. I must have lost consciousness because all of a sudden I was on back staring up at a red sky.


    My first thought was of some science fiction comic about Mars that Billy had shown me once. Right then and there I laughed harder than I had laughed in a long time. My plane exploding, demonic churches, Nazi wizards, spies, magic portals, and now I was on Mars. Surely I had lost my marbles and I was really locked up in some padded room somewhere hallucinating.


    Then I heard the screaming and gunshots. Something large landed on my legs and pain shot through my left ankle as my eyes popped open. I looked down to see Neff laying over my bottom half, bloodied and battered, I¡¯m sure I looked just as bad. He must have fallen down the mountain like me.


    I looked right without getting up, my view was cantered to the side since I was still laying down. I could see Sgt. Rowe firing into the red mist that seemed to be present everywhere here. I just couldn¡¯t see what he was firing at, but I heard a woman¡¯s shouts, and I remembered Lt. Wager, or the Sparrow, or whoever she was. She sounded like she was in trouble and an instinctual need to go help her sprung up somewhere deep inside of me.


    All of a sudden Neff¡¯s weight was ripped off of my legs and my ankle silently screamed in pain. I involuntarily sucked in a deep breath to cope with the pain, and all I got was a mouthful of hot air. It felt like someone had just opened an oven in my face and I had tried to breathe in the heat. Had it always been this hot? I looked down and saw Neff was being pulled across the red landscape by some kind of creature. It was hunched over and about 5 feet tall. It had red and black marbled skin that was beautiful in a grotesque sort of way. It was wearing some kind of tattered leather pants that had a small hole in the back of them for a short little tale to stick out of. On it¡¯s back grew two stubby little mismatched wings, one of them looked healthy and young, and the other was blackened and brackish as if it was poisoned.


    ¡°Hey... Hey! Let my friend go!¡± I shouted as I tried to get up. As I continually tried to rise I felt pinpricks of pain all over my body and I gasped in surprise, and then fell back down. Somewhere behind me my slung M1 Garand dug into my back in all of the wrong ways exposing even more injuries that I didn¡¯t know I had. The trip down the mountain had taken its toll on me, and the price was pain and blood.


    The thing pulling Neff away by his ankles turned around and looked right at me. His face, and it was clearly a him, was contorted in all kinds of unnatural ways, and he had two horns on the top of his forehead, one of which was broken off at a sharp angle. He shot a forked tongue out towards me as if he was tasting the air, and then he spoke to me in perfect unaccented English.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be worried about him little pink-belly, worry about yourself,¡± he said as he dropped one of Neff¡¯s ankles and pointed somewhere off to my left behind me, before cracking a manic smile. As he smiled his mouth revealed two upper sets of teeth and two bottom sets of teeth just staggered slightly off of each other, each tooth razor sharp...


    I immediately shifted myself over to my left elbow and regretted it when it wouldn¡¯t hold my weight. I fell onto my left side and looked up to see what the creature had pointed at. A monster that looked a little like the last was only about six feet away and heading right towards me. It also had the red and black marbled skin, and short stubby forehead horns, but that was where the similarities ended. This one didn¡¯t have the short tail or the little crumpled wings. He looked like one of those ¡°strong-men,¡± you see on circus posters, except with a monstrous face and razor sharp teeth like his cohort.


    He casually walked over to me with confidence and anger on his disgusting face and grabbed me by the straps on my rucksack and hauled me into the air in front of him. My body screamed in pain as my bruised and torn muscles were stretched. I tried to batter him off with my left arm, but realized I couldn¡¯t move it at all. I looked over at it and saw my uniform on that side was completely blood soaked. I must have been in shock yet again because I felt like that didn¡¯t alarm me as it should have. I went to batter him off with my right arm and felt a weight in my right hand. I looked over and saw the Luger still gripped there in my fist. I quietly thanked my Drill Sargents and whatever higher power is up there for instilling in me the concept of never letting go of my weapon.


    The creature in front of me pulled me closer to him and slipped his forked tongue out and ran it along the side of my face. ¡°You taste strange human, and your weight is off.¡±


    ¡°Taste this,¡± I said before putting the Luger on the monster¡¯s forehead and pulling the trigger. The monster¡¯s head snapped backward and he dropped me like a sack of rocks. I of course landed on my shattered left ankle and crumpled to my knees. The pain was so intense that my vision blackened for a second and the thought of passing out sounded better than a one-hundred dollar bill, but I hadn¡¯t forgotten about Neff. I looked up and saw the smaller monster had only gotten about 15-feet away, he was having trouble hauling Neff¡¯s weight.


    I lined up my Luger looking down the pistols small insignificant sights and wished I had two arms to grab my M1 Garand which would be better for this kind of work. I put the sights right between the things shoulder blades and sent a prayer up for anyone that was listening that my shot would be true and that I wouldn¡¯t hit Neff. I took a deep breath and watched my right hand waver, I was weak from blood loss¡­ Then I pulled the trigger. The creature dropped Neff then grabbed its left arm, I must have hit it. It spun around and hissed at me. I let off another shot that exploded the gravel just a foot left of the creature¡¯s feet. He jumped and then ran off into the mists.


    Behind me I could barely see Sgt. Rowe¡¯s silhouette through the strange mists still firing at targets that I couldn¡¯t see, but in front of me Neff was still unconscious and exposed, I couldn¡¯t leave him. I was stuck with two soldiers on either side of me that needed me. That¡¯s when Neff moved, it was small, little more than a shudder.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I yelled out to him ¡°Neff! Neff! Show me a thumbs up, are you alive bud?¡±


    Neff shakily held one thumb up into the air. I scanned his area one more time looking for hostiles and I didn¡¯t see anything. I made the decision then to go to Sgt. Rowe. Neff was a big boy, he could hold out for a few minutes alone. I tried once again to stand but my left ankle wasn¡¯t having it. It wasn¡¯t dignified and it wasn¡¯t pretty but I began to crawl across the ground towards Rowe on my knees, every once in awhile using my right arm with the Luger still clutched in my fist as a counterbalance to get over the uneven ground.


    The crawling was hell. Sharp rocks were stabbing into my knees from the torn up landscape below me creating even more wounds and blood loss. I wasn¡¯t even sure how I had blood left at this point. I just knew I was in a world of pain and that my friends needed me. I kept crawling, choking down the too-hot oven air as I moved.


    The closer I got to Rowe the more I could make out the figures he was shooting at. There were dozens of them, some threw rocks at Rowe, others fired stubby little bows. He dodged and dipped through their projectiles and returned fire at an unheard of rate. His Garand let out the iconic ding as his clip ran dry and flipped into the air. In a blur of motion he reloaded and was firing again.


    He seemed to be firing mainly at a thick group of five or six monsters carrying something, so I helped lay down suppressing fire in that general direction. Rowe spun around and saw me, then tumble rolled behind a small boulder that was just big enough to provide decent cover for him.


    ¡°Stop firing soldier! They have the woman, look!¡± he shouted while arrows and large thrown rocks bounced off of his position.


    I focused on the group I had fired on and did indeed see a struggling figure between them and I hoped I hadn¡¯t hit her with my hasty shots. Sgt. Rowe reached into a pouch at his belt and pulled out a Mark 2 Grenade, AKA the Pineapple. He chucked it over the rock he was taking cover behind loosely at some of the monster archers that were firing on him, but far enough away from the group carrying the Sparrow so that she wouldn¡¯t catch any fragmentation. I knew the drill and hit the deck, I laid as flat as I could and presented only the top of my helmet in the direction the blast was going to take place. I felt the ground shake and heard the explosion, then loose rock and gravel rained down on us bouncing off of my helmet.


    I fought to get back on my knees and saw the monsters retreating into the mists, and I couldn¡¯t see the group that had the Sparrow at all. Sgt. Rowe was a step ahead of me and apparently uninjured enough to run because he hopped to his feet and was after them. He ran into the mists and disappeared, I heard a few more shots, and then nothing¡­ I waited there on my knees with my Luger in my one working hand scanning all around me. Just when I was about to give up on Sgt. Rowe and make my way back to Neff he came back out of the mists.


    ¡°Their gone, the trail ends at the mouth of a large chasm. I didn¡¯t see any steps down and it¡¯s so deep that I couldn¡¯t see the bottom. Where¡¯s Neff?¡±


    ¡°Back their Sarge,¡± I said motioning behind me with my Luger.


    ¡°Can you walk?¡±


    ¡°No sergeant. My left arm and left leg seem to be mostly inoperable.¡±


    Sgt. Rowe came around to my right side and pulled my arm around his neck and then pulled me to my feet. I had to hop on my good leg as he began to walk. I had left a pretty serious blood trail so it wasn¡¯t hard to trace the path back. About halfway back Sgt. Rowe stopped and looked me in the eyes.


    ¡°You crawled all this way on one leg and one arm?¡± he asked incredulously.


    ¡°I thought you needed my help Sargent,¡± I replied.


    ¡°You¡¯re a tough kid Ozzy¡­ and a good soldier. God is looking out for you,¡± he said before continuing on. I couldn¡¯t help that think that God wasn¡¯t looking out for me considering my junk life, my junk upbringing, and the junk situation I was in, but I wasn¡¯t going to rain on the Sargent¡¯s faith parade. Especially if that was the motivation he was using to get me through this.


    ¡°So Sargent¡­ Where are we?¡± I hesitantly asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet. I have some theories, but I¡¯m not worried. God lights our path, we are exactly where we are supposed to be.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but think the worst. This was either Mars or somewhere way way worse¡­ We found Neff in short order, he was stumbling towards us through the mist. I wanted to greet him properly but I was having trouble even holding my head up. Neff didn¡¯t look much better, one side of his face was covered in blood which looked like it was coming from a deep gash above his eyebrow. Face wounds like that always bleed a lot and this one looked particularly nasty. Neff being the juggernaut that he was still had an MP40 gripped in each hand.


    Before we had a chance to talk Neff slumped into the red shale below us and said: ¡°I¡¯m not feeling so good.¡±


    ¡°You have a massive head wound soldier,¡± said Sgt. Rowe before plopping me down next to Neff. ¡°Here, watch Ozzy, I¡¯m going to recon this area, we can¡¯t afford to be attacked again or surrounded.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, Sgt. Rowe looked down at me. ¡°What about you Sargent? Aren¡¯t you injured from the fall down the mountain?¡±


    ¡°I think I have a few broken ribs, but I can walk and recon. If that was a raiding party that engaged us they will be heading back with reinforcements. We need to find a more defensible position ASAP.¡± Without further preamble Sgt. Rowe trotted off at a quick pace and disappeared into the mists.


    ¡°Neff, let¡¯s go back to back,¡± I said, even though I was tired and wanted nothing more than just to sleep. I didn¡¯t want those things to be able to sneak up on us and take me. We scooted our butts back until our backs touched and we were both leaning on each other. I tried to do my best to scan the area in front of me and memorize the terrain. If you memorize the terrain as a sentry it makes it easier to spot enemies. It¡¯s the reason why everything is so orderly on military bases, it makes spotting something that doesn¡¯t belong that much easier.


    We were at the base of a medium sized mountain, maybe it could even be considered just a large hill, for me I knew it as an unholy bastard. I looked up at it and tried to trace the route I must have taken to roll to the base of it. All I saw was sharp rock outcroppings and large drop offs which made me wonder how I was even alive. I couldn¡¯t quite see the top of it through the thick mist or fog or whatever we were in but I could tell it was tapering off. I wasn¡¯t good with judging heights but I could make a rough guess of maybe 300 or 400 feet tall. From my position in all directions the ground headed further downhill.


    I took another ragged breath and all I got was the superheated oven air, we had to get out of here, and soon. I remembered it was 100 degrees a few summers back, me and the other kids at the orphanage had a miserable summer suffering through that heat. It felt at least twice as hot as that here. My body was involuntarily taking shorter breaths to avoid sucking in the hot air and the lack of oxygen was making me even more lightheaded. My vision started fading to black around the edges again and I started to slump over, but Neff caught me and laid me flat.


    ¡°You really don¡¯t look too good Ozzy.¡±


    ¡°Well you aren¡¯t exactly a ray of sunshine either big guy.¡±


    ¡°We need to get out of here soon and get you some medical attention.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to be that easy.¡±


    The reality of our situation that we both didn¡¯t want to admit settled over us, and my first thought was that I had failed Billy and the other kids at the orphanage. I started rummaging around the many pockets in my jacket until I found a small notebook and charcoal pencil I kept there. I scribbled down the address of the orphanage and shoved it into Neff¡¯s hands.


    ¡°Neff, if I don¡¯t make it out of this, you need to go there, to that address. Save as many of the kids there as you can. It was my duty, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to make it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that Ozzy...¡±


    ¡°NEFF! I need you to promise me. If I die here you will go there, save the kids.¡±


    Neff just stared at me, a small tear fell down one side of his face cutting a trail through the heat-dried blood there.