Disclaimer: The Television series, Hogan's Heroes, belongs to CBS, Bing Crosby Productions, and its creators Bernard Fein and Albert S. Ruddy. I do not own these characters and I am not making a profit from this story. I am just taking these characters out for a walk in the park and I promise to return them in one piece.
"Wake up, Peter." called a sweet, seductive voice that flowed like a peaceful river.
Corporal Peter Newkirk of the RAF complied, finding himself laying on soft grass, gazing up at the forest canopy high above him, an array of yellows, reds, and oranges greeting his eyes. The sun was shining delicately through the boughs of the mighty trees. A soft wind tousled his chocolate hair, yet something was not right.
Newkirk sat up abruptly, taking in his surroundings with a critical eye. He knew where he was, not five miles from camp. Over that ridge on his right was a cannon factory…
The Corporal looked down at his clothes—he was still in his black outfit, but why was it light out, and why were the trees ready for autumn? And where were his mates?
"Peter." That voice again. Newkirk looked over his shoulder and saw a figure standing at the tree line. Slowly coming to his feet, Newkirk turned to face the owner of the voice.
Before Newkirk stood a beautiful woman, her jet black hair flowing long and straight around her slight shoulders and down to her waist. The woman's skin was as pale as snow and her emerald eyes bore deep into Newkirk's soul. She wore a long, flowing black gown with a tightly tied corset and lace sleeves that sat just off her shoulders.
"Hello, love. Might you tell me what's going on?"
"All in good time." she said strutting towards him, the dress parting in a deep slit showing off toned legs. She paused three feet in front of him, those green eyes reading every thought, hope, and dream that ever passed through Newkirk's mind.
"The last thing I remember…" the confused Corporal paused, not wanting to give away his identity or purpose to this strange woman.
"…You were with your friends, sabotaging the canon factory." the woman concluded with a knowing smirk.
Newkirk was taken off guard. "How did you know that?"
"I know quite a lot about you and your operation. I have been waiting a long while for you." She caressed his check with an ice cold hand, running her long slender fingers down his arm until she held his hand.
Newkirk shivered involuntarily. "Since you know my name, might you tell me yours?" he questioned reclaiming his hand. Something about this woman unnerved Newkirk.
The woman before him laughed, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "I go by many names, but you are most familiar with Death."
Author's Note: Love it? Hate it? Is Death a little too cliche? I would love some feedback!