Ludwig's Diary: A Fictional Narrative

It seemed like ages before he was free. He ran back towards the British line, expecting at any moment to feel a bullet rip through him. Then, out of the blue, a single shot rumbled across the dormant battlefield. Ed spun around just in time to see the German commander’s pistol smoking. The machine gunner who had spared his life was slumped over, motionless.

“Do you not think you should separate yourself from Gilbert and explain to me what is going on?” he snarled.

Ludwig turned to look him in the eye. “I asked how they were. I expect an answer.”

“Enough!” Saxe’s face was red, and spittle flew out of his mouth. Good. I have him outraged. “Ralan and Alard will die.” Saxe slammed his fist on Larsen’s desk, shaking the inkwell and papers. “He may have fled into the Wretched Quarter, but I will find him if I have to have my knights go through every single hovel and hut.”

The scarred leader stalked through the battle ground, the screeches of the wounded falling on deaf ears. They were no use to him now. Through the rain and darkness he moved, cutting through the battle like a knife. A slight smile hovered on his twisted face.

"Mhm," replied Ludwig as he propped himself against the couch. He looked back toward Gilbert. "I suppose you aren't heading to class for a while, then."

The lad moved even closer and stood, right next to Tank who was hiding in his camouflage blanket at the boy’s feet. The opportunity to fire was lost. In an instant, Tank’s knife was out.

“Well, you haven’t met my brother. Think army guy, but with this hidden soft side that just makes all the ladies swoon. He probably has more books on adoption than you have in this whole store.” Gilbert let out a groan.

Yale frowned. “All this time I thought you viewed me as a lesser son, but that isn’t it?”

Once the trap sprung, Duke Gashard’s horse, frightened by the flames, reared, throwing him hard to the ground, and striking his head, he lost consciousness. When he awoke, he was alone, his horse, his first lieutenant, and his men, nowhere in sight and uncertain of his location, he scanned the sky overhead, but the thick tree canopy made it difficult to see the position of the sun, and without the sounds of fighting to guide him, forced him to pick a direction and start walking. Skirting the fires, he came across many dead soldiers, most had succumbed to the fire, but a few had died from the same volley of flaming arrows that had startled his horse. Somehow, he managed to make his way through the flames to the clearing where he and his men had first entered.

Lyle was staring at the floor. “You said that already.” The teenager sniffed, shifted in his seat and then looked at Dominic. “And I already told you

“I would shake your hands, but there isn’t time,” Winthrump said. “I need to get you three out of here before we run into the two Kingsmen patrolling the

Gordon woke with a start. His dreams had been interrupted by violent icy sweats since the day of the Somme. Nothing , not even the cacophonous sound of dropping shells could compare to that day. He was just a boy back then. His hair was golden and swayed with the innocent breeze of the wind just like he was innocent to war and annihilation. Dazzling blue eyes shone full of naivety, the naivety of a child. But now his hair was tarnished by mud and blood; his eyes were darkened by the bloodshed of battle. Dirt splattered across his wide set nose and dark black bags hung like heavy weights around his eyes. His scintillating personality was lost to the terror of combat. At home he was considered handsome, here he was just another face.

Fight ‘til the last man drops. That’s what we were told during our briefing. Our objective was simple: hold Regensburg. At first, it seemed useless for us to defend this small, boring town, but this was the only spot for miles that had intact bridges across the river. We had built up defenses on the bridge west of town. Tank traps and sandbags were placed along the bridge. There were anti-aircraft guns on either side of the bridge and even a concrete bunker as a part of the first line of defenses. We all sat in our positions and waited anxiously for the Germans to attack. Suddenly, the sound of gunfire split the silence. But… it wasn’t in front of us? A panicked voice sprang over the radio, “They’re here! They’re here! They’re behind us!!

"Alright. You aren 't in trouble," Mr Way eyed Frank, then, quickly averting his gaze to the other two students, continued talking. "you three