This story has been edited
"Ah... This is it..." The American soldier groaned in pain. Looking around – the best he could without moving too much – only dead people. His friends were dead and he was next.
Damn Nazi bastards appearing out of nowhere. They were taken by surprise, with few supplies and munitions; they had been on their way to replace those when the Nazis appeared. Of course, they fought all they could until the last bullet. Clearly, it hadn't been enough and they were defeated, he didn't know if someone had escaped to get help from the camp a few kilometres away, but even if somebody did that, it was too late.
The soldier started to cry, so this was how it ended.
He was shot in the abdomen and the Germans had left him to die painfully, it wasn't like he could do much but to suffer until death took him. It was dark and cold, that was all he could see and feel now as his life flashed before him.
He didn't had had a great life, it had been good until the war started. He had had a good family, two parents and a brother; but all was taken from him. His parents and brother had been killed whilst he had been out. When he got home, the only thing he saw was red. Red everywhere. After that he joined the army. Promising to himself that he would stop the Nazis, return to his country and be a Hero like he always said he would be.
He would laugh now if he could. The sentence had been set, the hammer had fallen. He had paid the price for killing so many, he hadn't become a Hero he had become a murderer just like the ones that killed his family. Instead of laughing he choked on a sob and coughed blood to the side. He realised it too late; death was meant to be his fate.
Looking back now, the only happy memories he had were those of the little grumpy British nurse that he had found sometimes while moving from camp to camp or platoon to platoon.
The American soldier had talked to her many times, discovered many things about her. They had been good friends. It was a shame he couldn't say good bye to her. She had been the only girl the American soldier had really liked. Well, she probably had someone back home. It was impossible for someone like her to be single. That was the only fact that he didn't know about her. He knew about her love for books, cats, tea, her weird but interesting taste in music, how badly she was at cooking and other things. But she never really told him about her family, perhaps they were dead too?
It didn't matter now; death was going to take him away. He just wished it would be faster.
"Alfred!" Hearing his name coming in a high pitched and accented voice made him snap his eyes open to look at the dark sky above him, "Alfred!" The voice continued to call him, just by the tone he knew who it was.
"Here...!" He tried to say, but ended up coughing more blood. Nevertheless, it was enough and suddenly there was a person next to him.
"A-Alfred..." The voice broke down crying, "Don't move." She commanded but Alfred heard the waver in her voice and almost laughed, which made him cough again. He groaned and closed his eyes in pain, "Don't move you idiot! That means neither talking nor laughing too, git!" She cried ripping a piece of her clothes to try and stop the bleeding, "There are medics on the way here..." She spoke quietly, trying to maintain herself calm as she put pressure on the wound, making Alfred wince. "S-Sorry."
"D-Don't cry, Isabella..." He tried to smile at her, but failed miserably and caused the nurse to cry harder.
"Don't talk!" She yelled looking at him, but the American ignored her as he was used to her attitude. "I won't let you die, damn it!"
"I d-don't think I'll live, t-there's already an a-angel here for me." He whispered referring to her and Isabella almost smiled, she certainly blushed.
"It's not time for your stupid jokes!"
"I-It's always time f-for my stupid jokes!"
"I h-hate you!" She stuttered focusing on the wound, the piece of cloth was already soaked in blood.
"Y-yeah, I love you too." He coughed again and Isabella stared at him wide eyed.
"You..."
"Here I am... d-darkness all around." He started, though his voice was hurting and vacillated too much. "Thinking of past... Tak-king my last breath, the a-air is cold as ice..."
"No! You're not taking your last breath! I'm here! I'll help you! I won't let you die, Alfred! Don't you dare die!" She cried and looked around trying to see if the medics were in sight, unluckily there wasn't anyone in sight, the only in sight were dead. Once she had been told about Alfred's platoon being attacked she had ran straight here not even thinking if the Nazis were still here, nonetheless thank God they weren't.
"I can't go on. It h-has to end right here. For the t-things that I h-have done..." He shook his head and winced. "You know, I-Isabella, I always wanted to be a H-Hero. But I became a murderer. There is no w-war; there is no victory, only m-men who lost their lives..."
"Stop, please stop talking." She didn't yell at him anymore, the Brit knew even if she did yell he would just ignore her. "I know you want to be a Hero... Alfred, please, don't say those things, you're not going to die." She spoke looking at him in the eyes. His eyes were so blue and now the blue was getting darker and she cried harder wishing his clear and shiny eyes were back.
"I always liked your e-eyes. Green, I've always liked the green c-color..." Alfred coughed again and Isabella grimaced at the sound. "...Yours s-sometimes change its shade d-depending on your emotion. Now they're really s-shiny like emeralds and t-they're really pretty, but I don't like to s-see you cry." He brought his shaking hand up to her face, caressing her cheek and cleaning her tears, though he ended up leaving a trail of blood.
"Hush. Belt up and I'll stop crying." She said, but her tears didn't stop. She put one of her hands above the one her cheek and squeezed. It was silent for a moment and Isabella thought she could hear steps approaching.
"Why do you h-have you hair so s-short?"
"You just can't be quiet for a moment, can you?"
"N-Nope..."
"I had long hair when I was a child... One day my brothers thought it would be a good idea to cut it whilst I was sleeping needless to say I had been sad, but, instead of crying and screaming at them I said 'thank you for the haircut' and since then I've had my hair this way." She explained smiling at the memory, her brothers reaction had been priceless.
"Isabella, you s-should let your h-hair grow again..." He said sleepily and closed his eyes, only to then snap them open as the British woman slapped him. "W-What was that for?!" He tried to shout at her angrily.
"You can't sleep you idiot, if you try again, I'll slap you harder!"
"Oh..."
It was quiet once again and now she was sure. The medics were close. She could hear their footsteps. Realising she didn't have much more time alone before Alfred was taken away she quickly leaned down and kissed him, just a quick peck on the lips.
"I love you, Alfred." She whispered in his ear. "Don't die. Don't leave me. I'll be waiting for you. You're my Hero, Alfred." She spoke softly and leaned back up not sparing a glance at Alfred for embarrassment. "Over here!" She shouted and the medics were right on track running to them.
Alfred stared at her wide eyed and definitely awake. Her words ringing in his mind as the medics came. They thanked the British woman for her work and she stood up from the muddied ground smiling at the American. They stared at one another until Alfred was moved from the ground to a makeshift bed to be transported, there he screamed in pain and broke the eye contact.
Tandandan, I had this idea for a while... Um, I stopped there, cuz yes. :B
This was inspired by a song from the power metal band, Sabaton. Ahhh, I love them. Their music is epic. If you know them, you know I quoted from two songs. I won't say which ones. :P
I did a little research in names and I'mma put it cuz yes. c:
Isabella:
Latinate form of Isabel. This name was endured by many medieval royals, including queen consorts of England, France, Portugal, the Holy Roman Empire and Hungary, as well as the powerful ruling queen Isabella of Castile.
Isabella in Hebrew means devoted to God.
Alfred:
Derived from the Old English name Ælfræd, composed of the elements ælf "elf" and ræd "counsel". Alfred the Great was a 9th-century king of Wessex who fought unceasingly against the Danes living in the northeast of England. His fame helped to ensure the usage of this name even after the Norman Conquest, when most Old English names were replaced by Norman ones. It became rare by the end of the Middle Ages, but was revived in the 18th century.
Alfred in English means counsellor.
Also, it's not nyotalia. I like the Nyotalia version, but I prefer the fan-version which I've seen in some doujinshis and fanarts, where she is exactly like England, short hair and all that, but with, um... big breasts. :B
I'll probably rewrite this one day.
