My Immortal The Vampires of Berlin by Lee Rudnicki

scream. He didn’t know what the Germans were doing in the hotel, but it was time to launch the attack before they were spotted. He raised his arm and slammed it down. “Fire!”
    Boris dove for cover as the salvo of
Katyusha
rockets screamed through the air and slammed into the Hotel Neptune. The explosive impact sent pieces of white-hot shrapnel flying throughout the hotel, including a large piece that blew the back of Varik’s skull off, exposing his brain as he fell to the floor and died.
    Wolf dove into the corner and covered his head as the gunfire erupted, intermixed with screams and curses in Russian and German.
    “Onward, comrades!” Boris yelled as he led the charge across no-man’s land towards the Neptune. He didn’t exactly enjoy combat, but he was addicted to the adrenalin-rush; he wondered if he ever could go back to the tractor factory in Kiev.
    Inside the Neptune, Otto scrambled to repulse the attack. He pushed Varik’s body aside and fired the MG-42 wildly out the window. The murderous sound that the machine gun made was deafening. He screamed as brass bullet casings littered the floor. “Die! Die! Die!”
    As the battle raged, Pig Face crawled around the room and blindly felt around for a weapon. The pain from the injuries to his eyes was excruciating, but he was desperate to stay conscious and defend himself.
    In stark contrast to the havoc that was erupting all around her, Eva calmly watched the Russian soldiers storm through the door. With guns blazing, each man covered a different firing lane.
    Otto grabbed a rifle and fired back at the intruders, but there were too many to stop. After taking two Russians down, he took a bullet himself. The impact spun him around and he fell to the floor with a gaping hole in his shoulder. He had once vowed to never surrender. However, sticking to that plan when he was bleeding to death turned out to be a different proposition entirely.
    Enter Boris. When he saw two of his men dead on the floor, he went berserk. “Damn stinking Germans! I will kill all of them!” he screamed.
    Otto staggered to his feet and put his hands up as the angry Russian officer screamed at him in a language that he could not understand. “Please, I surrender.”
    “You fat fuck!” Boris yelled. Then he shot Otto in the face. Otto was dead before he hit the ground, but that didn’t matter. Boris shot him over and over and over and over and over and over again until he ran out of bullets. Then he reloaded and shot him in the face again. And again and again and again and again and again.
    When the gunfire stopped, Boris had successfully released a great deal of pent up anger and frustration. Otto the Jackal, on the other hand, was unrecognizable as a human being from the neck up. The other soldiers watched the macabre scene unfold with wide-eyed amazement; they wondered if their commander hadn’t lost his mind in the days leading up to the Battle of Berlin.
    Then Boris saw Pig Face cowering in the corner. The pathetic German was trembling and bleeding profusely from the holes that had once contained his eyes.
    “Please ... please don’t hurt me ... I surrender,” Pig Face stammered. “I need a doctor.” The moment that he had feared most had arrived. And he couldn’t see it.
    Boris laughed. “Don’t worry,” he replied in fluent German. “I do not discriminate against the handicapped. I myself know what it is like to lose an eye to the enemy.”
    When he heard Boris speak German, Pig Face took it as a glimmer of hope. He supported himself against the wall and put his arm into the air. “
Hitler Kaput! Hitler Kaput!
” he cried. “I surrender.”
    “You are blind,” Boris replied. “That is such a shame. Do you know why it’s a shame?”
    “No,” Pig Face sobbed.
    “Because I specialize in teaching eye loss to German soldiers through a special technique that I call
extreme eye-poke
. It usually involves a bayonet, although it could also involve a fork or other