ok, here's one. i just love writing stories:
*a-hem*
Year = 1939
Month = Unknown - winter
Day = Unknown
Location = somewhere in Russia
The stock was frozen solid, it was all he could do to keep the sights lined up, he was shivering so violently.
2 days he had been tracking them in the snow, 2 days he had followed the gesttapo convoy to here. and for what? there was nothing there save ice, and snow.
As he held his scoped kar98k up, he began to question himself as to what the hell he was doing out here, chasing this convoy for a "special" assignment. what was the point? they'd done nothing but move through the snow, day after day. And what had he done? tracked them with his gun and kept his pick-axe tucked safely away.
Now, suddenly, they stopped. he had to stop himself moving the sights to get a fix on them. they looked like they'd just stopped in the middle of the snow, but then he saw it. a latch, hidden beneath ice. they were going into some kind of bunker. here? they must be mad. never-the-less, he tucked away his rifle, got up, and made his way towards the hole they had just entered.
This was it.
The moment he had been waiting for for 3 days.
He took out his pick-axe, hacked open the lock and went inside.
well, that's about it. i can do more if you like it.
Can you solve the mystery of bunker 413?