Piano keys were her childhood, but the grasp of a pistol was her reality. Polish SOE Agent, Natia Filipska, has lurked among the rubble and the shadows of her occupied-Warsaw for years, ever since the war started and ripped her from the life that ha...
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"there are two types of people in the world: those who prefer to be sad among others, and those who prefer to be sad alone."
― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love
｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ
October 4th, 1944
Zetten, Holland
Crossroads Embankment
1100
Natia slowly crouched beside the Nazi with the bullet through his head, staring at the drying blood along his fractured facial features. She hadn't even taken second thought to shooting him. Natia sighed as she crouched beside the body, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment. This had been Felicjan - body sprawled on the ground surrounded by the enemy and Death himself. The blood. The way his body fell upon the ground. The lifeless look in his eyes.
" Hey," Natia looked up and found Sergeant Toye standing up beside her, his body enough to block out the persistent sun. Natia sighed to herself and averted her gaze back towards the body.
" I didn't even think when I shot him." she spat out, anger brittling her bones as she did so.
" You did what you had to do." Sergeant Toye told her, his voice quiet, quiet enough for only her to hear. Natia stared at the Nazi's face, pale and devoid of the life he held a few moments ago. She sighed. Reaching forward, she pulled the few grenades that hung from his belt from his body, before reaching for his papers. Sergeant Toye slowly knelt down beside her; she could sense him watching her.
Pulling the papers in front of her as she knelt by the dead body, she began reading through the little sheets of paper, speckled by blood, and crumpled with use. Natia tried to focus on the name, but she could hear the whimpers from the German soldier behind her as the other 4 began to situate him to bring him back to HQ. His cries were weak, his pleas in mumbled German unintelligible, and his voice that of a child's.
" His fault," Sergeant Toye said, pulling the spare pistol that was hidden on the Nazi's side into his hands and pointing it forward, squinting his eye to get a good view of it," guess he knows now he probably shouldn't have messed with ya, right?" Natia smirked the slightest bit. But the remorse she should've felt never came - for 5 years it never came. She always expected it, but it would never come. Natia glanced at him and immediately his eyes narrowed at her.
" You okay?" he asked her," He got you good." Natia shrugged, looking back down towards the body, ignoring the stinging of her face, the pulse under her eye and the itchy, encrusted blood across her cheek.
" It'll heal, I'm fine." she said, " We have to get the prisoner back." She met his eyes, she couldn't ignore the way they trailed towards the blood on her cheeks, her own blood, but she just nodded to him. She'd had more blood than she'd care to admit on her and 90% of the time it wasn't her own. Standing to her feet, Sergeant Toye slowly rose beside her, glancing back down towards the dead body and glanced towards her.
