Gunshots and sobbing was all Adolf heard as he sat on the seemingly rock-solid sofa with his wife, Eva. As the hot tears rolled down Eva’s cheeks, only to be joined with more with each trembling sob, she knew that it had to end like this. Adolf gazed down to the glass table in front of him. On a different day he might have smiled at the handsome militant that stared back. No, these were darker times. On the table laid his favorite gun, and a single pill. He closed his eyes and silently prayed for a brief moment, then looked up to examine the dimly lit room he was in, taking in some of his last sights. He looked at the debris on the floor and the cracked brown paint on the wall. Adolf knew it had to end as well; he couldn’t begin to conceive of the terrors that would await him if he were to be captured. A wave of serenity washed over him as he slowly turned to his wife, breathing in her scent for one last time. With a trembling hand, he picked up the pill.
“It’s amusing,” he thought, “How something so small will be what does me in, considering what I’ve done to all those people.” BANG! Countless explosives were being detonated above his secluded underground bunker. It would be only minutes before enemy soldiers would storm his base, and he would be captured, only to be placed in damp, dark cell, never to see the light of day again. The mere thought of such a thing made Adolf jam the pill into his mouth with no hesitation. After the small disk slid down his throat, he picked up his 7.5 mm Walther Pistol. The same pistol he’s used to murder others would be the pistol that he would use to kill himself. He slowly raised the gun to his temple.
“G-Goodbye, Adolf!” sobbed Eva. For a moment, all was still. Adolf sighed deeply, and pulled the trigger.
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