Maria, Pull the Trigger and Kill (a World War II adventure)

Quinceanera

I have worked until late last night. Everything had to be perfect and thus the previous day had been long. This very day had been my big day. 7:00h was my usual time to wake up, but that day I could sleep longer. As I had been going to bed late last night, I woke up at about 8:00h, an hour late on a normal day. That day was not a normal day however. In about 1,5h a number of women (all friends of my mother) would seep into our house, to fix me up and I decided to snuggle under my duvet and get some more sleep.

I saw a woman, wearing a nice white business dress sitting behind a big, heavy oak desk. Something felt wrong. For a dream, it was surprisingly clear and felt real, but there was something else, which gave me a creepy feeling. I just did not know what it was. From my viewpoint, from behind the woman, from behind the desk, I just saw her back not her face, but I could observe the whole room. Men and women were coming into her office discussing business matters with her and receiving instructions from her. They all respected her, she was the boss, she was in charge. Within the walls of her office, her verdict was the ultimate truth.

Suddenly I heard gunshots and it scared me like hell. Without the slightest emotion or fear, the woman commanded her employees to lay flat on the ground and at the same time extracted a pistol from a handbag on her desk. Why could I not see her face, but knew her thoughts and her feelings? Not even 5 seconds later, she hid behind the big drawer section of her desk. That moment, 4 men with submachineguns brutally pushed the door open, stepped into the office and without warning, started to fire like crazy. They shot that office to smithereens. The woman now laid down flat on the ground and waited patiently. Why was she not scared, not even a bit? Some of the employees on the ground got hit by bullets and cried out in agony, but the woman remained calm. Why was she not even a bit concerned? Only some 5 seconds later, the 30 round magazines of the Tommy guns had run empty. The apocalypse had come to a halt. How did I know that? Up until now, I did not even know, what a Tommy gun, a Thompson M1 was, but that instant I knew, that those were the submachineguns the mobsters carried. An MP40 in the hands of an experienced marksman would have killed everyone, but an M1 just fired too fast and had too much recoil and thus it rather had to be used with short well aimed salvos. However, mobsters never were good marksmen, they were just butchers. I had no idea, how I knew all that? Ok, I knew, it was the woman who knew all those things and I knew her thoughts and feelings. Somehow we were mentally connected. How came, we were mentally connected, but I could not see her face and did not know, who she was? As the magazines of the mobsters had run empty and the firing had come to a stop, the woman in the white dress came up from behind the desk. The mobsters were in the process of changing magazines, but their spare magazines were in the inner pocket of their jackets, which made retrieval a bit unyielding. I was scared to the point, where I could vomit, but the woman remained calm and next, she fired four precise shots in only 4 seconds. 4 seconds, bang, bang, bang, bang. The 4 men with the submachineguns, had frantically tried to fiddle another magazine in the slot, but they had not been fast enough. The 4 precise shots of the woman had found their home as intended and the 4 men collapsed and were dead. 4 clean shots in their heads had killed them instantly. The woman came forward from behind the desk, pocked into one of the mobsters on the ground with her foot and said: "Estupido pendejos. I hope you stupid assholes have confessed your sins before you came into my office?" That very instant, my point of vision changed. From being at the wall behind the desk, I magically flew to the door and I could see that woman's face now. She was a beautiful woman in her late twenties. Very well shaped figure, which was flattered by her white business dress. Her eyes were fire and full of hatred. Those eyes were scary, but made her even more beautiful at the same time. Those eyes emanated hatred, but no fear. I was just a spectator, but I was hell scared, my heart was racing, but she on the other hand had been the main actor in this short, life threatening skirmish and not scared at all. Whoa, that woman was mean and badass. She obviously did not fear shit and she did not give a shit. Next, she kicked another of the dead mobsters into his chest and stated: "You wanted a war? I'll give you a war! I'll give you your fucking war!" I further scrutinized her face and that face was somehow familiar. Then suddenly I knew. Pinche, that woman was me! I was that woman. It was me at about 29 - 30 years of age.