STALINGRAD - Deshoras

[insurgencies]

You awaken to the crackling of bullets passing above your head at supersonic speeds. There are at least a hundred holes in the side of your tent and whoever the unfortunate dude next to you was appears to no longer be alive.

Your camp sits at the bottom of a meter deep depression in the floor of a large, open warehouse. There are many boxes on one side, but that is not the side you are being shot from. The tents you are in are tall enough to obscure a crouching person within the depression, and your rifle lies at your side.

The gunfire suddenly stops. You hear but four voices - German voices - talking. Somebody seems to be walking through the camp and checking the tents, one by one, while the other lot of whoever is there must be outside of the depression. 

Τι κοιτάς ρε

[Τι κοιτάς ρε]

(Excuse the slow rate of posting, it's an exam week and I've several projects to hand in and haven't had the time or lack of headaches enough to make a reply.)

"Fucking hell, what-.." That's really about what went through Aibek's head. He was unable to even think anymore, just act out of sheer instinct. Said instict made him grab his rifle, crouching, basking in the obscurity of the tent's height. He tried to locate where the voices were coming from. What a great fucking way of starting the morning, huh.

[insurgencies]

The voices seem to be on the side of the warehouse opposing the actual box storage, where the large garage doors must be. From what you feel, temperature wise, the doors are open, and the other men might as well be outside the doors. The footsteps are on the same side, opposite of you and the boxes, and you detect two sets of feet shuffling around.

[Τι κοιτάς ρε]

(Hm, I thought I had replied and you had just fell off the face of the Earth. My bad, sorry.)

Aibek steadied his rifle in his hands, before trying to get a closer look at the Germans. The moment he'd see one, he'd blow his face off.