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Another short story I am working on. In 1863, A First Lieutenant of The Union army (American Civil War) wants to visit the Great Plains before they disappear forever.
The red beret was never a good sign.
One eye opened.Dempsey's.He could smell the foul black smoke and the blood.The heat of the fire, he could feel all over.And the sound of grunting and groaning, he could hear all around."Agh. My legs.
So yah, new series of stories going on now, I have it all planned out.Any one who takes offense to any second world war Germans (Nazis) then please don't read, it's not meant to be offensive and it's...
Can you do it. Can you really look me in the eyes and say those words, the ones that would break me. Can you, my closest friend, do that to me.
The train pulled into a war torn station,it was called simply 'ghost',there were giant guns everywhere you looked,and they were loaded with the most evil ammo known to man!,Sienna's sweaty gym socks.
"Charlie's in the tree line, about three clicks ahead, and we're out of luck on fire support, cos' the radios are dead, we're pretty low on ammo, last night we lost four men.
Nagoi Nagana lifted his eyes from his maps as the sounds of perfectly polished boots squeaking on a perfectly polished floor echoed through the arched hall.