[ WP ] You are a vampire living in World War II . With the war being at its deadliest , you decide to take action .

Blood and entrails covered the ground. I walked amongst the carnage, resisting the urge to lick my lips. Glazing over the corpses, my sensitive eyes checked for any sign of life. But the explosive shell had annihilated the trench, and all the soldiers inside. 
 
 Finally, one appeared, flailing and crying into the dirt. With my foot I rolled him onto his back, taking in the scene. His shirt was splattered red, ripped to shreds like the flesh beneath. The man was n't a man; he was barely more than a kid. And yet, surrounded by troops far more seasoned, he was the only survivor. Luck was on his side. 
 
 `` I... I'm not going to make it.'' Against the booming bombs and relentless gunfire, even my heightened hearing could barely make him out. I knelt before him, placing my hand against his heart. The rapid-beating drum in his chest was failing, slowing with each thump. `` I'm not going to make it... am I?'' 
 
 I moved my hand to his chin, tilting his head to the side. His peach-fuzzed cheek pressed into the gory mud. The mere sight of his neck riled me up, but I forced the cravings down. If I was n't careful, I'd take too much, and leave too little. 
 
 `` You will make it,'' I assured him. `` But you are n't going to like it.'' 
 
 My fangs extended, and I began to feed. 
 

