My violet eyes search the men in the trench below me for the unmistakeable blond. When I catch sight of him, my lips tug up into a devilish smirk. He walks briskly alongside his advisor, barking orders as he's updated about the other trenches. His head rounds on the other man so fast, I think he must have gotten whiplash.
He must have been informed about trench Omega.
The pair dashes off somewhere, and a few minutes later a car screeches towards the enemy base; Germany himself is behind the wheel. Pushing my glasses further up my nose, I drop from the tree I'm hiding in and slide down into the trench. I dance around the soldiers, making my way towards the command center-type room. No one seems to notice me, so I stroll nonchalantly towards the person in charge of the trench. The room has four people in it, all of them hunched over a table. The knife in my hand glints wickedly as I slam the door closed, startling them. They scan the room, their eyes resting on me after a few seconds.
"Hey there," I chirp.
"Who the hell are you?" one of them snaps. I smile, and two of them back up a step.
"I'm your worst nightmare."
I leap forward, slashing at the closest person with my knife. They fall to the floor, unable to even scream as blood fills his throat. The other three people react faster than I expected, but not fast enough; one falls to my knife, the second to his companion's, and the third to the pistol that was concealed in my coat. A sea of blood coats the floor and sections of the walls, and I dip two fingers in the sticky substance. On a clean section of wall, I write "Matthew was here" in huge letters. With one last look at the gruesome scene, I dance out the door and close it softly behind me.
Someone touches my shoulder, and I turn to look at them. A german, barely seventeen years old, stares at me with a confused expression. I stare back at him, as calm as one can be whilst in the heart of enemy territory. He starts to say something, but I hold up a hand.
A bullet lodges itself in his skull, and two nearby soldiers leap back in terror as their comrade hits the dirt. I take the other two down within seconds, and then I weave my way through the chaos that ensues. Before long, every German soldier in the trench is dead or heading towards it. Blood covers me like a second skin, and a smile is permanently etched onto my face.
"That took less time than expected. Well, time to start tagging!" I chirp, snatching a bayonet from one of the bodies. Using the blade, I carve "Matthew was here" into the wall. Moving about fifty feet, I sketch the same message into the dirt.
This continues until hardly anywhere is free of my name. I hear the sound of a car engine, and I drop the rifle and scale the side of the trench. Just as I swing into the branches of a nearby tree, Germany makes his way into the trench. All the blood drains from his face as he sees the result of the massacre that happened only an hour before.
"Who zhe hell is Matthew?" he hisses, throwing whatever he was holding at the ground. He storms off in the direction of the command center, and I smirk. His scream of agony follows me as I disappear into the night, heading back to England's base.
"My job here is done," I sing, the moon being the only witness to the attrocities I have committed.