Mentions of disturbing but factual topics, such as WW2, the holocaust, and the price of war. Please continue at your own risk.

Webster had never felt this before. The war was a disgusting, horrible thing to be apart of, he knew that. He'd seen people pass, had killed others, seen little kids crying for deceased mothers, had seen the remains of an innocent civilian. But it all seemed so... Childish compared to this. This was inhuman. It made his heart clench. He felt like he might vomit, or scream, or cry, or all three. They didn't expect to find a camp. He was hugging and kissed by the people, a man dropping to his knees to kiss his boots, another hugging him as he whispered thanks in German. Webster was ashamed to admit it, but they scared him. Skin clung to their bones like wet fabric, and the smelled horrid. He volunteered to go into town and get food with some others soldiers. Men were taking bread and pastries out of a bakery by the box full, completely draining the supply. The baker- A fat man, still with his apron on- yelled at them in German, demanding the food be returned. Webster couldn't take it. This men knew- Knew about the thosands of innocent souls being lost just miles away from the town, but bat an eye. And he was concerned about bread? "Shut up." David said. He didn't.

Webster pulled out his side arm, grabbed the baker by the collar, and screamed at him. "I said shut up, you fat Nzi fck!" He was too angry to speak in German. The baker shook, and spoke in German again.

"Oh, excuse me, not a Nzi, just a fat fcking pr*ck. Are you even a human? You one of those? Or are you gonna tell me you didn't smell the stench?"