On The Hunt

Chapter One

My movements are everything but sudden and loud. Raising my head or spine even the slightest would lead to certain exposure and death. The pure weight of the rifle is aiding me to stay alive, keeping the body nice and low. My chest grinds the dirt as I desperately hug it to elongate my body. The meek and sharp elbows lead the way. Without second thought my knees quickly pursue. Elbow by elbow, knee by knee – I crawl. I must be patient, as I’ve been crawling for at least twenty minutes now. On the left side, lays an artificial row of bricks extending to the end of the street. Seems like it was once a wall for a huge building, but the building is gone and its existence is marked with these row of bricks. With the irregular and sudden cuts, it’s clear an explosion has carved their outer shape and pummelled the structure to the ground. Alongside this obstacle, I move like a nocturnal snake. Armed with a mission – I hunt my prey.

A simple glance to the sky, along with unique eruptive sounds, defines war. The air is infested with mechanical birds. Fuelled with hatred and nasty orders from their officers, they buzz around and drop convulsive bombs. These bombs rain down too often, pouring the city in death and despair. No home is left untouched. However, boisterous explosions are invaluable to me. They are perfect allies, as they aid me to disguise my killer shots. My position would be signalled if the enemy knew where the stray bullet came from. So I am forced to make use of the onslaught surrounding me. Minutes later, a nearby building in front of me is hit. It used to be a school, before the curfews were in place. Now - well, mere seconds ago it was a food rationing station. Decorated with vibrant drawings and posters by children, filled with knowledgeable classrooms and labs, riddled with communist portraits; it is no longer a school but a mere blazing inferno – luckily it was abandoned once the assault began. Witnessing the absurd chaos, I briefly close my eyes. The cheerful laughter of children quickly escalates and reminds me of my childhood adventures. Restricting my emotions, I dare not to let a tear go unchecked. Completing my mission is how I can prolong the livid laughter of children in the future. Opening my eyes, my focus is amplified. Concentration is vital, I cannot fail now.

Creeping alongside a tiny hole in the barrier, patience has proven rewarding. Lying on my side, I attempt to move myself cautiously. Wiggling myself left and right into a satisfactory position, I take out my binoculars.  Turning the tiny nob sixty degrees for maximum visibility, I look in. Multiple figures in SS uniforms collect in a group, one lighting a cigarette and another fiercely yelling. They are approximately 300 meters away from me. My eyes move from one face to another, desperately trying to identify my kill. Would it matter if I kill them all though? Tilting my eyes a little higher to the building behind the officers, there is a machine gun nest perfectly nestled in a small hole. The thick sandbags block the torso of the gunner, but the head is offered – and soon on a platter. Yet, he is not my target, or any of them as a matter of fact, and killing them would just alert unwanted attention. Not to mention waste my precious 7.62cm bullets. Unfortunately, I was only commissioned with twelve, so every shot will have to count.

Closely monitoring my German buddies across the plaza, I wait. My kill could pop up any moment, as this is the location I’ve been informed he is stationed at. A sense of discomfort hits me, as I lay on the rouble on my side. I cannot please my body now; as this mission is important. Slowly observing every inch of their dug out, disappointment quickly follows. Suddenly, a group of figures come out of the building. They are rushed out by a much taller figure that seems to be armed with a MP40 sub-machine gun. Small scrawny dirty children begin to line up in front of the officers. There are seven. My instinct pleads me to disobey my orders, personally given by the commander.