Thread: The Hunting Game [Temptationist x Dark Saint]

The moment we parted ways, there was a sinking feeling in my gut. It wasn't because I was now alone amidst a detrimental battle. I had been a lone wolf all of my life. I lived, breathed, and operated solo. The partnership with Roza was an exception simply a project given to augment German fatalities among the battle of Stalingrad. However, prior to our collaboration, Roza had been a new recruit in Stalingrad and I had been a long standing member of the Soviet forces. Despite our differences, there was something about our separation that had my instincts screaming. Despite the feelings, I pushed that notion to the back of my mind to focus on the task ahead of me. I had to find a way out of this building, and without a proper stairwell to simply climb down internally, instead, I had to find an alternative. Moving swiftly into another apartment, I kept a low-crouch as I swung my machine gun around, searching the area for any potentially hidden assailants. Once I was confident the area was clear, I moved straight for the apartment's private balcony. If I couldn't get down from inside, I would have to climb down from the outside. With an enemy sniper potentially hidden in every surrounded building, I was taking an immense risk by revealing myself to the exterior of the complex. Unfortunately for me, war was all about risk. I had no choice. Having retired both of my major weapons to the back of me, I peaked out of a broken window before making the decision to toss the artillery bag right out of it. With the glass doorway to the balcony already hollowed out from previous gun-fire, I simply took a deep breath and prayed for the best. All I could do was hope that whatever snipers were on-looking this side of the building were Russian or American, and not German. Exhaling, I suddenly swooped forward plunging myself out of the window's frame. In one abrupt leap, I launched my body towards the railing of the balcony, just a couple feet to the side of the window. With such acrobatics, I grabbed on to the railing's bottom-edge and subsequently wormed my body back and forth. I rocked my body twice, using the momentum from the swing of my legs under the balcony to finally push off. It took only a couple of seconds before I released the railing again and fell several feet. I directly caught myself on the third-floor's top-railing. I repeated the same movement twice over again, skipping down balcony after balcony until I landed onto ground-level . Still alive, and evidently unshot, I took a deep breath. Either God was on my side, or the Russians really had moved to guard most of the area. I kept low again, swooping to grab the bag I had just moments ago, thrown out the window. Though, as I reached for it, I heard crunching on the first floor. I hit the ground, laying on my stomach as I pressed myself up against the outside of the building. Poking my head up, through the window by my head, I could see the male mystery figure several meters down the hall. Realizing I could not move without compromising my life, I slowly reached for my TT-30 pistol . Sliding my way up the wall slowly, I narrowed my eyes and took aim. Right as my finger tightened slightly on the trigger, suddenly, my target moved coming in to contact with another figure. My heart sank and so did my gun - it was Roza. I watched silently as she struggled with the German, but she stood no chance. I closed my eyes slightly, curling back over away from the window to hide myself. Slouched on the ground, I leaned my head against the cold concrete wall and could do nothing but listen to her stammering last breath. In her final dying moment, she spoke words that would forever haunt me. Sie knnen den Wolf zu jagen, aber Sie knnen nicht ihr Heulen machen. You can hunt the wolf but you can't make her howl. It was a proverb one that I had told her when we first met. It dawned on me in that single, disturbing moment. Roza wasn't assigned to me for practicality and guidance... she was assigned to me for security. Rather than her native Russia tongue, she chose to speak with a slick German accent. Clearly, Roza was a jack of many trades. She was assigned to protect me. Protect She-Wolf. And even in her last moment, she took the identity of She-Wolf. She fit the description of the infamous She-Wolf. She was blonde, blue-eyed... beautiful . The stereotypical features you would expect from a Russian bombshell. Beneath all those layers of military armor, there lay unquestionably a curvaceous figure - capable of manipulating and seducing even the strongest of Nazi men. It was a shame that now she was dead. But she died for Mother Russian. She died in the name of her country. She died to protect me, and she was proud .