The Death of Fritz Ulrich
folder
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
654
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
654
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The Death of Fritz Ulrich
~Agian. My story, my people. Although it mentions a few real life people. I don\'t own Adolf Hitler, Heinrich Himmler, or Josef Mengele. I wish I did, but I don\'t. I\'m not making any money off this story, I\'m broke. OH! I won Fritz. You don\'t.~
It was over. The war had ended...it was all over.
Fritz Ulrich sat in his apartment staring at the wall across from him. Well...it wasn\'t really his apartment. He had ran into the abandoned Ghetto to avoid capture by Russian solider\'s and now here he sat in stunned silence. Hitler was dead. His hero, their leader Adolf Hitler was dead. He had gotten the letter from Himmler a few hours before and by now Himmler would be dead to. More than likely Josef was dead too. So were most of his friends.
They had lost. They had been defeated. He stood and walked over to the window. He could see men in the street below, they were looking for him. Those bastards! This was so wrong! This shouldn\'t be happening! He should be riding back to Berlin with Himmler to give a report to Hitler or sitting in the medical lab talking to Mengele not trapped like a filthy Jew in a dirty apartment!
Their Immortal God was dead,their country was in ruins and men like him were being rounded up like the Jews had been rounded up before! It wasn\'t fair! It wasn\'t right! He slammed his black gloved fists against the wall and found he could not stop. He beat the wall as if doing so could bring Hitler and Himmler and Mengele and all his friends back. Tears streamed down his pale face,turning the edges of his blue eyes red. Oh how he wished his tears and pain could reverse time! He wished he could have seen them just one last time. He wished he could have laughed with his friends again, just one last time. If only for an hour.
He sank to his knees,still beating weakly at the wall;his shoulders shook as he sobbed uncontrollably. \"Adolf...Heinrich...Josef...\" He whispered, their faces passing through his mind in a slow procession. The pain in his heart was as real as the pain in his hands. He turned around and sat on his rump,pressing his back against the wall. There was nothing left for him but death.
Knowing this he stood and went back to the window,punching the glass out with his fist. He ignored the pain as the glass ripped through his glove and into the flesh under it. He yanked his luger out of it\'s belt holster and started shooting at the fucking Russians below. He didn\'t know how many he hit but all too soon his gun was empty. He felt in his pockets for bullets and came up with one. He nodded and back away from the window before they could see him.
Picking up a piece of broken glass he went to the blank wall across the the window an tugged up his sleeave. He rammed the glass into the tender flesh of his underarm and slit it from elbow to wrist and slashed across the wrist. Blood streamed down his arm and he dipped a finger into it and started to write.
By the time he was finished his head was spinning,he sank to his knees and did the saw to his other arm before dropping the glass. He could hear the Russians banging at the door and knew he had to finish it now. He pulled the last bullet from his pocket and loaded it before pulling out a wrinkled picture. In it was himself,Himmler,Hitler, and Mengele. The only picture he had of them.
It had been made a while back after one of Hitler\'s speech and in it they all looked so happy. The world had been at their feet then...now they were dead. He clutched the picture in his hand before pressing the luger to his chest, over his heart. \"For my loves, for my country.\" He said softly before pulling the trigger.
Just as the bullet slammed through his chest and into his heart the Russians broke down the door. Fritz Ulrich died with a smile of his face and tears on his cheeks even as Josef, the smart man he was, was escaping the country. And all the wall was written in his life\'s blood. \'Adolf Hitler, Heinrich Himmler, and Josef Mengele. My friends,my companions, I will love you forever. Fritz Ulrich.\'
~Yeah, I felt like being an Emo Kid. Go to Hell.~ Love it? Hate it? Leave a reveiw or don\'t, it\'s up to you.~
It was over. The war had ended...it was all over.
Fritz Ulrich sat in his apartment staring at the wall across from him. Well...it wasn\'t really his apartment. He had ran into the abandoned Ghetto to avoid capture by Russian solider\'s and now here he sat in stunned silence. Hitler was dead. His hero, their leader Adolf Hitler was dead. He had gotten the letter from Himmler a few hours before and by now Himmler would be dead to. More than likely Josef was dead too. So were most of his friends.
They had lost. They had been defeated. He stood and walked over to the window. He could see men in the street below, they were looking for him. Those bastards! This was so wrong! This shouldn\'t be happening! He should be riding back to Berlin with Himmler to give a report to Hitler or sitting in the medical lab talking to Mengele not trapped like a filthy Jew in a dirty apartment!
Their Immortal God was dead,their country was in ruins and men like him were being rounded up like the Jews had been rounded up before! It wasn\'t fair! It wasn\'t right! He slammed his black gloved fists against the wall and found he could not stop. He beat the wall as if doing so could bring Hitler and Himmler and Mengele and all his friends back. Tears streamed down his pale face,turning the edges of his blue eyes red. Oh how he wished his tears and pain could reverse time! He wished he could have seen them just one last time. He wished he could have laughed with his friends again, just one last time. If only for an hour.
He sank to his knees,still beating weakly at the wall;his shoulders shook as he sobbed uncontrollably. \"Adolf...Heinrich...Josef...\" He whispered, their faces passing through his mind in a slow procession. The pain in his heart was as real as the pain in his hands. He turned around and sat on his rump,pressing his back against the wall. There was nothing left for him but death.
Knowing this he stood and went back to the window,punching the glass out with his fist. He ignored the pain as the glass ripped through his glove and into the flesh under it. He yanked his luger out of it\'s belt holster and started shooting at the fucking Russians below. He didn\'t know how many he hit but all too soon his gun was empty. He felt in his pockets for bullets and came up with one. He nodded and back away from the window before they could see him.
Picking up a piece of broken glass he went to the blank wall across the the window an tugged up his sleeave. He rammed the glass into the tender flesh of his underarm and slit it from elbow to wrist and slashed across the wrist. Blood streamed down his arm and he dipped a finger into it and started to write.
By the time he was finished his head was spinning,he sank to his knees and did the saw to his other arm before dropping the glass. He could hear the Russians banging at the door and knew he had to finish it now. He pulled the last bullet from his pocket and loaded it before pulling out a wrinkled picture. In it was himself,Himmler,Hitler, and Mengele. The only picture he had of them.
It had been made a while back after one of Hitler\'s speech and in it they all looked so happy. The world had been at their feet then...now they were dead. He clutched the picture in his hand before pressing the luger to his chest, over his heart. \"For my loves, for my country.\" He said softly before pulling the trigger.
Just as the bullet slammed through his chest and into his heart the Russians broke down the door. Fritz Ulrich died with a smile of his face and tears on his cheeks even as Josef, the smart man he was, was escaping the country. And all the wall was written in his life\'s blood. \'Adolf Hitler, Heinrich Himmler, and Josef Mengele. My friends,my companions, I will love you forever. Fritz Ulrich.\'
~Yeah, I felt like being an Emo Kid. Go to Hell.~ Love it? Hate it? Leave a reveiw or don\'t, it\'s up to you.~