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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Sprung from Grief” Down in the Dirt, v184 (the June 2021 Issue) Order the paperback book:

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The Fallen

Allan Onik

    The bunker was damp and dimly lit with candles. Eva and the Fuhrer sat in leather chairs and listened to the gunshots and explosions above them. They heard a man screaming and then a muffled whimper.
    “At least we exterminated some of the rats,” the warlord said as he contemplated his P08 Luger pistol. He put the gun to his temple and Eva put the capsule in her mouth. The rat in the dim corner nibbled on a crumb and escaped through a hole in the wall.

    Smoke billowed in the air and bodies lay strewn about in the German city. Shells whizzed by the Soviet soldier’s head and he crouched and pulled the trigger on his PPS automatic. The Nazi in the distance dropped his rifle and spit blood, grabbed his stomach and curled on the ground in the chaos. “The Fuhrer is hiding somewhere,” the operative yelled, “remember, we want him alive.”

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