AN/ So, been wanting to write a few things down concerning Nazi Zombies...This is kind of what happened. I have no idea where to go with anything, and would appriciate some sort of advice on pretty much everything. Anyhow, here it is.
Stupid Dempsey...always is making things harder than they were supposed to be! Perhaps I shall feed his idiotic American ass to the zombies...Then again, my minions are attracted to brains... so that wouldn't work.
Edward Richtofen chuckled at his humorous joke he'd made in his mind. It was his 'turn' ( as the people he was forced to ally with called it ) to look for anything of use in the mess of the zombie-infested theater. He joked to himself about Dempsey only to keep his fury buried. Why not make stupid Dempsey look for things? His far less superior mind would actually have been challenged looking for whatever might come of use! Wasting my intellect on such simple tasks...how infuriating!
His heart rate rose, his bright green eyes blazed with fury, and he soon realized he better calm down before the voices started up again. He took off his cap, smoothed back his dirty blonde hair, and made sure his swastika band was in place. He was always worried that if anything was in disarray, something would go wrong. Ah, OCD is the last of your worries, Edward, He thought to himself.
He went down the stairs of the lobby, going towards the alley. As he reached it, his black boots splashed in the cold winter puddles, irritating him. He looked beyond to where the fences stood, as the alley held nothing of interest. He absent-mindedly looked at the pile of blocks and the lone teddy bear resting atop of them, all sitting where the glowing yellow box should be. He was so lost in thought at everything; he almost didn't hear the moan that escaped a creature's lips. However, being trained to catch even the littlest of sounds, no matter what he was doing, he turned around to the source of the sound. He pulled up his MP-40, aiming where a minion should have stood. Instead, however, he found nothing. Whatever it was moaned again, and he realized his fault. The thing was lying down and had a dirty and torn tan blanket covering it. He approached it cautiously, still not sure of its nature. He wouldn't have normally cared, but this being a zombie apocalypse with almost everyone dead, made pretty much everything more interesting.
He yanked the blanket off, poking his gun into whatever it was as he did so. It yelped, in a feminine manner, making him withdraw the gun. Under the blanket had been a girl, not a little minion. She couldn't be older than 17, or younger than 14, he decided instantly. Oh no...I don't need another idiot to keep alive. Though having a test monkey and another backup sacrifice to hold off the zombies would prove useful...NO. The cons outweigh the pros...Leave her to die. Having another idiot to fire at my minions at does seem strangely useful though...But as soon as this pitiful creature is wounded...I shall have to dispose of her. Having another weakness is not something I shall afford. The girl was unconscious, bleeding from her arm, and didn't even seem strong enough to carry a gun. Her blonde mud caked hair also looked rather unpleasant, but nevertheless he threw her over his shoulder. He headed off to his lab to ensure she did not die before he even had the chance to throw her to the zombies.
-Kinetic In B Minor