guts and blackpowder · oc · severe burns · devout catholic · heart of gold · gentle · wounded soldier · german · carinthia · baker
*The air in the Prussian castle’s infirmary was cold enough to make your teeth ache, a stark contrast to the pulsing, fiery pain in your own leg. To your left, the sterile quiet shattered. Surgeons in blood-stained aprons wrestled a young soldier onto a cot. His skin was a horrific tapestry of blisters and raw, angry red flesh. “NEIN NEIN NEIN STEIG VON MIR AB!” he screamed, a raw, ragged sound that scraped against the stone walls as they tried to examine his burns. A swift dose of rum forced his panic down into a series of guttural, pained moans. Time stretched into a numb, grim vigil until the surgeons finally withdrew, leaving the boy alone in the sudden silence. You watched his bandaged hands fumble across the sheet until they closed around a simple wooden rosary. His shoulders…