<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=256030.msg13363308#msg13363308">Quote from: Mac84 on 20-07-2017, 15:35:03</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Wonderful! :D <br/><br/>You should see some of my opening posts. :p <br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">As a matter of Fact. I'll give you a taste. :P</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div class="floatright">(http://www.bbc.co.uk/schools/primaryhistory/world_war2/scotlands_blitz/includes/resources/images/walking_through_ruins.jpg)</div>Late december 1943, deep within the USSR. The Invasion of the Soviet Union by the Forces of Nazi Germany had wore on since 1941. At first it seemed that the Germans would sweep aside the Red army as easily as they swept aside the rest of Europe. Causalities were numbered in the Millions by the end of Operations. Majority of the losses suffered by the Red Army. The Eastern Front would see some of the fiercest, most brutal acts of hatred that Humanity could ever commit against itself. <br/><br/>In the remnants of a toppled building, a lone figure huddled in subzero temperatures. His small stature being concealed by the shadow of a broken wall. Yet, he was afraid. Deep sapphire blue eyes peered in all directions. Ears attuned to pick up certain sounds. His heart hammered in his chest as he sucked the air from the arctic wind that whistled through the ruins of the Soviet city. Making his Lungs burn with the chill. In the distance, the staccato of Gunfire could heard echoing off the broken structures. The roar of Planes overhead, and Tanks in the distance only adding to the Hellish atmosphere. <br/><br/><em>Soldat</em> Wilhelm Shueler of the German Heer had his back pressed against the cold brick wall as he tried to still his racing heart. His Kar98K service rifle clutched in his nearly frostbitten hands with an adrenaline fueled death grip. He Jammed his eyes shut trying to banish the grisly scene he had witnessed not an hour ago. His entire squad, butchered at the hands of the Soviets. Their testicles cut off, and stuffed into their mouths as they were hung from building support beams. That image was beyond human, and it sapped so much strength, and courage from Wilhelm. To him it wasn't half a day before that he, and those other men were huddled around a fire laughing, and talking about what they were going to do when the got home from the war. Now, for them, that day will never come. <br/><br/>Wilhelm Shueler had just turned 19 the month prior. A small man, his squad mate simply called him "Willy". He was small, even for the time period at only 5' tall. The average Man being 5'6". His body was naturally lithe, and wiry. His head was capped in bright golden blond hair, and he saw the world with piercing Sapphire blue eyes. Willy was the son of a Piano maker in Munich, and all his life he wanted to take over the family business. That, and play piano. Yet, that was now another life. Another life that Willy feared he would never see again. <br/><br/>Willy knew he had to find his way back to other allied units, but he didn't know where to even begin. His squad had gotten separated in the labyrinthine ruins of this Russian city when their Platoon came under heavy machine gun fire. Once his squad was safe, Willy was tasked with scouting around. Since he was so small, he could easily scramble over walls, and through holes. Willy was not a very heroic person, but he wasn't cowardly either. He knew his comrades depended upon him, and he moved off to scout around. However he wouldn't be gone more than a couple of hours before he could hear gun fire, and quickly returned. Yet, he would be too late to help his friends. He would arrive just in time to watch as they were thrown over the third floor, and hear the crunch of their necks snapping. That sit would haunt his dreams, and his waking moments till the day he died. Which might be today, if he wasn't careful. <br/><br/>Summoning the last dregs of his courage, Willy stood up and started to walk towards the sound of gunfire. He swallowed thickly as the wind burned, and bit into his exposed cheeks. His rifle tucked under his arm as he started to pick his way through the rubble. He had grabbed the spare Ammo off his comrades, and the two grenades that his Sargent, Johann Shultz, had and jammed them into his belt. Afterwards one final prayer for their souls would be the given before their permanent parting. <br/><br/>Willy's pace was slow, cautious. It took him almost three hours to make one mile. His progress constantly hampered by his darting into hiding when ever a sound was heard that was too close for comfort. His rifle up, and pointed in the direction the sound heard. Military Training taking over, his finger upon the trigger. Fear was a tremendous motivator. It made your eyes, and ears sharper. Yet, it can be ones greatest obstacle. The knots in his stomach were the size of softballs at this point. He could only pray that he comes across some of his countrymen, and soon. <br/><br/>Yet, the world seemed to relish in its cruelty. It would not be German Soldiers that Willy literally stumbles across, but Russians. For a solid minute the two stare at one another. The lone german, and the squad of ten Russian conscripts. Images of what happened to his comrades spurred Willy to quickly fire his rifle right before he turned, and ran. The 7.92 Mauser round ripped through the abdomen of the lead Russian, causing him to tumble to the ground. Only two of his fellows would remain to see to him. The other seven giving chase to the German that wounded their friend. <br/><br/>Willy ran for his life, his legs pumping as hard as he could, his heavy pack on his back bouncing with each step. Threatening to topple him. Just behind him, the Russians fired their Mosin-Nagant 93/30 Rifles. The 7.62x54R rounds ripped through the air, passing him with a almost deafening crack. Willy ducked into what was a department store. Weaving between racks, and fixtures, trying to keep the Russians from getting a bead on him. The Russians fired blindly into the building as they pursued the diminutive German. <br/><br/>Willy would burst out from building's back door, and into the Alley. Seeing one end Blocked, Willy turned down the only direction he could. He ran, ran faster, and harder than he ever had ran before. His entire body obsessed with escape. <em>Come on Willy, Just a little further!</em> He mentally couched himself. The mouth of the alley rapidly approaching with each step. Willy gotten Tunnel Vision. All he could see was the mouth of the alley. It was so close, and with it safety. <br/><br/>(Ker-Pow!)<br/><br/>Just behind him a shot rang out. Not a instantly later, Willy's head snapped to the side as the Bullet ricocheted off his steel helmet. Causing him to lose his balance, and start to tumble forward. This was further aggrieved as his foot was caught on an outcropping of brick. Causing Willy to go sailing forward through the air into a shallow trench that he swore was not there a minute ago. As His eyes passed the lip of the trench, he saw the front of a Russian T-34/85 Medium Tank rumble passed the mouth of the alley. Had he not tripped, he would have ran out right in front of it. <br/><br/>Willy disappeared into the trench, his body committed to its tumble right before the back of his head smacked against the broken rock of the trench walls. Everything went black after that. <br/><br/>The soft rustle of tree branches, and the musical chirps of birds replaced the barking of gunfire, and the shouting of the dying. A warm breeze fluttered dirty mud encrusted blond hair as tall blades of grass brushed along his dirty uniform, and the sides of his neck. Willy breathed slowly as he lay at the base of a very large oak tree. His rifle still clutched in his right hand. His left half buried in the soft soil of the forest floor. Golden rays of the sun filtered down through the emerald canopy of the forest roof, and danced across the young man's eyelids. <br/><br/>Willy's eyes fluttered open as he slowly regained consciousness. The bright sun stinging his eyes, and causing him to blink until they could adjust to the harsh brightness. His entire body was racked with aches, and pains. A soft groan slipped from his lips as he pulled at his limbs, trying to get them to follow his commands to move. Yet, they seemed rebellious at first. Refusing his commands without more coaxing from his brain. <br/><br/>After a few minutes, Willy managed to get himself into a seating position against the tree Trunk. He took deep gulps of the surprisingly fresh air. There was no dust, no smoke. It was clean, and his lungs greedily devoured it as he continued to try, and get his faculties working. It would take a few minutes for his fuzzy vision to clear up, and when it did. He was left dumbstruck at what he saw. <br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://www.nutmeg.com/nutmegonomics/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/FutureVision.jpg)</div>Willy was no longer in the war torn ruins of a soviet city, but on the edge of a tranquil forest. Just behind the few trees in front of him, He saw Glittering white towers, Skyscrapers. Techno-spires that reached to the heavens above. It was a city, but no city that could exist in his time, or world. Willys eyes grew wide as he slowly stood up, and approached the Treeline. He peered out into this new world that was stretched out before him. His eyes beholding such wonders that were unimaginable to his people, or any people on his world save for those whose minds worked like H.G. Wells, and Jules Vern. "Wo bin Ich?" Was the only thing he could mutter as he could only imagine the adventures this new world had for him.</div></div></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Now i don't l so bad!!  ( You write marvelously)