The End...

I killed him...

I finally did it...

That bastard is dead.

What did he do again? I seem to remember, so I shall tell you my story before the soldiers arrive. My squad's commander, Dirk Willams, was leading us to war in the Gobi desert against some European country, don't remember what to call 'em. There was an ambush. They killed them all. My commander and I were the only survivors. He ran like the coward he is, and I fought until I was overwhelmed and wounded. I have a "special" ability. Let's call it my 'dark side'. It is only triggered when in extreme danger.

The amubushers triggered it. I dropped my gun and charged them. I bit into one's throat, then choked the next two to death. The idiots were too scared to move, and so, I swiftly tore out their jugulars. At this point, the realization set in. There was no ambush. I killed my own squad, and so, I ran. Oh boy, did I run. Once Williams got back to camp, oh boy. They'll kill me for sure.

I chased him down. There he was, walking, sluggishly, tired obviously. I ran up before he could notice, and jumped on his back. I erected my steel artificial wrist-claws and impaled him tenfold, in fact. The satisfaction was amazing. The image of the soil turning rose red as the syrup-like red liquid soaked into my knuckles and bathed my fingers, with that bittersweet, red liquid. I must have sat there for a while, because it started to smell bitter... That awful, metallic scent has set in... And I was soaked in it. I quickly stood up, alarmed. The entirety of the back of my grey cargo pants were soaked in dark red blood. My forearms bathed in the stuff. My knees covered in red grass and dirt. I took off my jacket, my pants, and ran in my under-jeans and white T-shirt.

At some point, I must have passed out from the cold. Course it was cold. It was December, and I was in the north. I knew the only way I could ever go back home was if I completed my mission. Since that was the case, I went west.

After a few weeks, I arrived. I'd lost track of time back then, and had even forgotten what year it was. I had to travel on-foot, in the cold, so I had no time to gaze at the sky and think. I just walked for days on end, before stopping at a nearby house to rent out a room, if they'd let me. But in the end, I had reached my destination. There were black flags with red symbols on them everywhere. No idea what they were called, but they were EVERYWHERE. Literally every house must've had one! Anyways, I continues down the main road until I arrived at the capitol building. There must have been hundreds of guards around that place.

I walked around the whole building, getting suspicious looks from the guards, and occasional threats to back off. In the end, I, at least, found a single unguarded window. Luckily, it was open. At that note, I decided to climb up to it, which I did almost effortlessly. I hopped in to a large dressing room full of coats and coathangars. It was empty. I could hear shouts and odd music from the other room, so I looked through the crack inbetween the door and the wall.

I saw men and women and children in costumes everywhere. To fit in, I found a costume similar to theirs, and walked through the door. In the large room were two grand staircases and a large glass chandelier. I walked up the stairs and looked through the rooms.

Eventually, after about eight doors, I found it. An office room with a man in a chair, facing a window into the city square. He had slick-black hair and a usual grey soldier's uniform. On his left arm, he had a red armband with the same symbol on the flags outside.

I walked slowly up behind him. He didn't seem to notice, so I erected my claws once again, and stabbed him in the throat. One of my claws went through his eyes. It was a decoy! I spun around as four men burst out of closets and aimed B.A.R. MGs at me. My target, himself, walked in from the same central door that I had used. He aimed a 9mm Luger at my head.

They all fired in unison, including my devilish target. This triggered my dark side, causing me to charge them. First, I sidestepped left and jetted forward, stabbing the left two in the chests, then slid my blades out and charged my target. He backed out into the hallway, and fired more shots into the room, causing everyone in the large room to scream and run in a flurry of panic.

The other two fired, hit, and charged with bayonets. I got hit in the left shin and right shoulder. I keeled left, hitting the wall, then pushed off with my left hand and just barely dodged the bayonets. I landed back-first on the ground. I kicked my self backwards with my right leg, and pulled out my own 9mm Luger. I slugged both soldiers with 9x19mm Parabellium rounds. They fellt limplt to the ground.

I forced myself to get back up and ran out, only to see the coward run, like my commander did. I aimed at tried to shoot him in the back. My gun was empty. I quickly tuched it away in my sheath and ran after him with my wristmounted claws.

Just as I caught up, he ran into the square, trying to get lost in the crowd. Bad idea. It wasn't that hard to pick out a short man pushing people away in a grey uniform while everyone else wore either white or black. I ran up to him and tackled him, got back up, and stabbed him in the face.

This time, I got him...

He couldn't get away this time...

Hitler is dead.