Bellum Quest

It was a cold, winters afternoon on the 17th of June, 1939. The village of Gryphem is at war and the primary target.
I open the door and ring the bell as always to signal my mother when home from school. There's no response. Something is wrong. I frown and my heart begins quivering with fear when I didn’t hear the usual sound of my mother yelling “welcome home!”

As I take my bag off and put it in the rusty locker next to the door, a middle aged man with a long, grey beard appears in the door way. Before I could question who he is or his reasoning in being here, he handed me a soggy letter with a small postage stamp. Looking up, the strange man was gone leaving only the remains of ashes from the cigar he held. Confused, I close the door quietly and headed into the living room that smelt of old candles and the perfume my mother wears. Sitting on the small, yet comfortable couch I grabbed the letter opener off from the coffee table and proceeded to open the letter. I read it carefully noticing my mother's handwriting, which said:

“Dear Charlotte,
I know you may be confused and scared, but I need you to do me a big favour. It will be difficult and quite long but I know you can do it, you are my confident little girl.  In my desk upstairs there is a map located inside the top draw, I need you to open it and follow it. I am in trouble and out of time. Be strong.
Love, Mother.”

Shocked, I mutter “why is mother in trouble”? Obeying her, I quickly walked up the stairs, careful not to run as mother never allowed it. Reaching her room my eyes gaze around to find her old wooden desk. Opening it slowly I find a large map completely filling the whole desk drawer. Staring in, I shake my head and grabbed the map, opening it in the process. My eyes widened at the huge map of our country with multiple coloured dots randomly placed. A note hanging from the left side simply said in my mother’s handwriting, “Where we first met.” I squealed “the hospital I was born in, that’s where we first met”. I hastily run down the stairs not caring about mothers rule and grab my coat and boots. Gasping for breath I was determined. “I need to save mother”.

As the wind gently blows my hair and the carriage tilts left and right on the road, my horse, Charles neighs as we near the hospital. I stumble frantically out of the carriage, my legs numbed from the harsh winter. Knowing I am the only person here at the hospital I quickly scramble through the window into a horrifyingly eerie atmosphere, facing the reception desk.  There lay what I assume is a deceased child grasping onto his dead mother. Ripping my eyes from the scene I try and find a clue, my eyes suddenly fall upon a dusty note nearby. I shove it into my pocket and run onward, leaving the corpses behind me.

As darkness consumes my vision, my body is in shock as it is suddenly wrapped in an itchy, mouldy smelling dust.  Forced to walk after what seemed like hours, l was finally uncovered and in a daze. Armed Nazi’s were surrounding me and there was my mother, crying. Shocked, I screamed her name. Then without warning, they aimed their guns, pulled the triggers and finally, silence.