"Shit. What have I done...?"
The words just fell out of his mouth. Finn stared at his beloved's body, his gaze slowly shifting to the weapon he held in his hand. Mauser C96. He dropped the weapon out of shock. He covered his mouth with his hand and took a step back. The pool of blood around her body seemed to call him. He turned on his heel and fled the room, slamming the door shut. The wet sounds of blood-soaked footsteps echoed down the hallway.
[...]
Elena. His greatest, though forbidden, love. It was not advisable for a German officer to associate with a Polish woman. They shouldn't be together, but how could he kill her? He didn't understand it himself. He kept seeing her body. Her light brown curls spilled on the floor, soaked in scarlet liquid, her beautiful blue eyes, wide open, expressing fear and disappointment and at the same time empty. Her once naturally red lips are now blueish. Her lovely green dress with white polka dots, from her grandmother, that fit her as if it were tailor-made. Now, also soaked in blood. He couldn't get that image out of his mind. No matter how much he wanted to.
"HauptcharfĂĽhrer Fuchs?"
A familiar voice tore him from his thoughts. He cleared his throat as he stood up from the chair behind his desk, still lightly distracted. He looked up at the source of the voice. Sturmmann Fritz Schultz. A young boy, 20 years old or less. He was relatively tall, quite pale. His green eyes almost always expressed fear of everything around him.
"What's the matter? What do you want? I'm... kind of busy."
He responded by taking off his hat with a deep sigh. He ran his hand through his hair, staring down at his desk again.
"There's.. I mean.. A problem has occurred."
He answered. He could see that something was wrong, but as was often the case - he was afraid to ask about it. His gaze traveled over the man's entire figure. His usually firm, confident superior now looked like a beaten dog. The blue of his pupils was further emphasized by the bags under his eyes and the unusual paleness of his face. He had quite light hair, so it wasn't that noticeable, but if you looked closely, you could see that some of it went white, most likely from stress.
"Your.. Your lover, I mean, I don't know if I can call her that.. She.. we found her dead. We suspect this is a lynching by partisans."
He continued. His voice was shaking with each word. He looked at Finn as he slumped back onto his chair, burying his face in his hands.
"I know. Get out of here. I don't want to see anyone. Get out."
He gritted his teeth, not even looking at the young man standing in front of him. The boy just saluted and quickly left the room, closing the door behind him.
He let out a deep sigh. His hands dropped to his knees. His attention was drawn to his gun, lying on the desk...
[...]
Fritz was heading back to his post, guard at the main entrance to the Gendarmerie Headquarters on Szucha. He intended to ask his superior about his condition the next day, but suddenly he heard a gunshot. He froze for a few seconds, then turned and ran back to Fuchs's office as fast as he could. He didn't bother knocking. He rushed into the room and froze again.
"ScheiĂźe.."
He whispered involuntarily, staring at the body of his superior slumped on the desk face down. He was still holding the gun in his hand, and blood was slowly spreading across the tabletop, dripping from the corner.