Jan. 15, 1942
I didn’t join just to kill Nazis. I didn’t join just to kill, period. Today I overheard some of the others talking about how excited they are to start fighting and killing. I pointed out that killing people, bad or no, isn’t something that should be celebrated. They all looked at me like I’m some sort of crazy person. One of them even said I shouldn’t be fighting if I was such a coward.
Adam said he agreed with me. He said that if all you want in this war is to kill, then you’re just as bad as the ones we’re fighting against. The point of this war is to stop a tyrannical man from destroying a whole race of people, and possibly the world. I wonder if he’s right…
Eli groans as he sits up, rubbing his eyes. He shivers slightly as he feet touch the cold hardwood floor. He stands and feels around until he finds his jeans. He stands to pull them on, letting out a long breath. Eli walks to the window, pushing the heavy curtains aside, and letting the afternoon sun stream in and chase the shadows from the corners.
There’s a sound from the bed, and he glances over his shoulder to the dark-haired girl as she wakes up. She shifts and slowly opens her dark-brown eyes. “Hey~” she smiles when she sees him and sits up, not caring when the blanket slips off her chest.
He watches her for a moment before speaking, “did you sleep alright?”
The girl nods and stretches. “God yes! Best I’ve slept in weeks!” She smiles, a toothy affair that Eli’s positive is the defining feature on her dating website profile. “Did you?”
He nods, turning his back to her to walk to his desk on the other side of the room. Opening one of the drawers, he slowly removes a gold leafed handgun and turns back to the bed. “What’s your name again, sweetheart?”
She visibly tenses and sits up on her knees, suddenly aware of how exposed she is. “I-it’s Bella…”
Eli looks down at the gun, taking a few steps to the bed. He settles on the edge, ever aware of the young woman behind him. He slides the clip out of the gun and peers over his shoulder at Bella. “Are you afraid?”
He’s expecting a yes. He knows it’s coming before she even opens her mouth to say it, and as soon as the word falls from her lips and lands with a thud on the bed between them, Eli allows himself to smile. He turns to her, his golden eyes flashing in the amber light from the afternoon sun streaming in from the window.
“So you’re afraid to die then.”
She nods, her wide eyes never leaving the weapon in his hand. He watches her every move, his expression blank, other than the undeniable gleam in his eyes. He slowly raises the gun to his head, pressing the barrel against his temple.
“Wh-what’re you doing?!”
A smile climbs its way onto Eli’s lips as he slowly slides his finger up and down the trigger. “Feeling the rush, baby,” he closes his eyes, putting slightly more pressure on the trigger. After a moment he lowers his arm, letting out a disappointed sigh, “I don’t feel it anymore.”
Bella chews her lip, looking down at her shaking hands, “I… I think I should go…”
Eli leans over, sliding his hand up her leg, feeling every goosebump on her skin. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t hurt you.”
She relaxes at his touch, her dark eyes flicking from his face to his hand, and back again. Finally, she lets out a quiet laugh, “you scared me…”
He leans in, gently pressing their lips together. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling Eli over her. He braces himself over her and smiles, gently brushing her hair out of her face. “Baby, do you believe in the Devil?”
She furrows her eyebrows and laughs. “Maybe.” She gently slides a hand down his chest. “Why?”
Eli leans down and kisses her, tugging her bottom lip with his teeth. “Tell him I say hello.” He pulls the trigger.
It was almost calculated. When he had kissed her, the gun had ended up directly next to her head, so close it was almost touching her temple. Her blood splatters across the pillows and the wall, marking it like a Jackson Pollock painting. He barely flinches when he feels a few warm droplets hit his face and chest.
Eli pulls away and wipes his face, resulting in the blood being smeared under his eye and the side of his face. A quiet knock sounds and he looks up.
A man steps in, surveying the scene before him, “just… making sure everything’s alright, sir.” He keeps his hand on the doorknob for safety. “Should I send for the cleaner?”
Eli nods, setting the gun on his desk as he walks toward the bathroom. “We’ll pay the usual, and not a penny more.” He pauses. “If he insists on more, remind him that he still owes me.”
“Yes, boss.” The man backs out of the room, closing the door on the wide-eyed body of the girl, and the bloodstained wall that will soon be spotless.