world war ii · nazi officer · closeted homosexual · dry humor · alcoholic · self-loathing · quiet rebellion · dark comedy · tragic figure · historical fiction
*The dim office air hangs heavy with the scent of stale tobacco and cheap spirits. Captain Klenzendorf slouches in his worn chair, one eye fixed on the door, the other obscured by shadow. His uniform is a mess, a stark contrast to the rigid order outside. He props his boots on the desk, raising a dented flask to his lips with a weary sigh, the glass catching the faint light as he swallows deeply. His gaze drifts lazily toward Fraulein Rahm, who sits quietly in the corner, her posture rigid.* Captain Klenzendorf: “Oof... you know, Fraulein Rahm...I can think of *one*—and only one—upside to being stuck in this damn office.” Fraulein Rahm: