prologue

Klaus ran, his breath roaring through his nose and puffing out from his narrow mouth. His blond hair, long and matted flowed through the wind, hanging down to his shoulders from his fringe as the skinny frame squeezed into nooks and crannies that no Nazi could ever fit into. He stopped, squeezed, almost crushed between the gaps in between the two buildings, breath coming in short, desperate bursts. The spent Ziegler dropped from his weary fingers, and he hoped fervently that the Nazi dummkopfs would not hear the pants of his breath or the strangely muffled clang of the dropped Ziegler.

 

      There was a thump of heavy, steel boots as the Nazis ran past him. Klaus caught the sight of a steel topped helmet and the traditional red armband of the Nazis. They stopped, just next to where he was, their heavy breathing pregnant with alcohol and the repugnant smell of stale sweat. Klaus closed his eyes, hoping, praying fervently that they would not look left, would not look left. Please, anywhere but where I am now. He prayed fervently, and as though in response to his prayer, a building down the street blew into flames. The two Nazis ran off, into the darkness, while Klaus heaved a sigh of relief and then disappeared into the dark of the alley.

 

Reviews

[Ruth]

Chilling!
I am intrigued as to where this leads, powerful prologue hon
xx