Battle of the Rhine

Mike left work an hour early this afternoon to go to Quincy's house to pack his things.He had already figured it out: Quincy must have been stimulated to stop drinking more than a year ago and return to alcohol.And the source of the stimulation, needless to say, was himself. "I shouldn't fucking come." Michael sighed with a cigarette in his mouth. Oliver was right. He must have had a twitch in his brain, so he left the happy life in the United States, but ran to Germany, which was struggling in the ruins, " It's all bullshit."

He wrote a note and took out two hundred marks in cash. "Dear Mr. Von Quinnessy," read the note, "I have not calculated the amount, but it should be enough. I will remove my luggage and shall see you no more. I wish you good health Yours sincerely, Michael Fiennes."

Michael consulted Mr. Franz when writing the note, and Mr. Franz advised him to write "the more formal the better".Two hundred marks is almost equivalent to fifty dollars according to the exchange rate.I hope Quincy doesn't take this money as some weird "compensation," Michael's scalp wounds tingle at the thought of "four dollars and sixty-five cents."He stopped in the middle of the city and bought a chocolate cake.Quinnessy likes this traditional Bavarian cake. Although he doesn't mention it, he can eat more than half of it every time. "One last time," Michael closed the car door, "this is the last time."

Quincy's factory is currently preparing to switch production lines from motorcycles to car manufacturing.Those motorcycles were very popular and profitable.Quincy has been working overtime continuously, and today is probably no exception.Michael parked the car on the side of the gravel road, took the cake, and took out the key from under the flowerpot.Mrs. Muller said hello to him with her lips curled up, "Have you gone on a business trip?"

"Too busy, work overtime." Michael responded casually.

The living room is gloomy, with dark sofa covers and heavy fabrics on the furniture that feel suffocating.Michael put the cake on the table, pressing the note and the Mark note.After thinking for a while, he took out a cheap ballpoint pen and added a sentence on the note: "Please put the leftover cake in the refrigerator, and remember not to drink overnight coffee and tea."

OK, that's enough.Quincy quickly regained his spirits, away from the stimulus.Michael went up to the second floor, first found out the passport, stuffed it into the bag, then the clothes, and threw them into the box casually.Going back to tidy up, Michael opened the drawer and took the notebook.What's left...

Food in the fridge?Come on, leave it to him.New sheets?Michael took a look at his bed. When the sheets were put on on Saturday, he hadn't imagined that he would be so miserable that he almost slept on the street.The sheets are also left for him, maybe the light brown color will brighten his mood.Michael opened a few more drawers and checked. After making sure that there were no important items left behind, he closed the box and opened the bedroom door.

Quincy stood outside the door, wearing a black overcoat, clutching the note and the two hundred marks.He may have run for some distance, panting, and his skin was flushed abnormally.Michael took a few steps back, "Uh, well, good afternoon?"

"..."

There were no vases nearby, and there was an empty picture frame embedded in the wall, which Quincy might use as a weapon in his rage.Michael stepped back again, away from the picture frame, "Since you read the note—"

Quincy's eyes were clear, so he shouldn't have been drinking.I haven't seen him for a few days. He has lost weight and his cheeks are slightly sunken.He stared at Michael's face, then up, to the bandages, then down, staring intently at the bag and the case.

"Am I going to pay liquidated damages?" Michael opened his mouth bravely, "How much do I need? I also brought some cash..."

"Give it back to me," Quincy said.

"What?" Michael didn't know why, "Money? Or a box?"

"Give-give-me-" Tears welled up in those blue eyes, "Give-give-me-"

Michael made sure he didn't take any of Quincy's belongings with him, clothes, boxes, socks and shoes, and a half-used notebook, mostly bought by him in the United States.It's hard to get the point across when talking to an alcoholic, presumably Quincy drank and only washed his hands and face.Michael lifted the box, "I have to go, and I have to go back to work overtime. Good-bye——" Before he finished speaking, he was kicked in the chest. Quincy exerted a lot of force, and Michael held his breath in his throat. mouth, Venus flying in front of my eyes, I almost passed out.

"Give it back to me," said Quincy, choked up, "you bastard..."

He pressed his whole body on Michael, and the two rolled on the bed twice before Michael was able to breathe gradually.He found Quincy tearing his clothes, first the coat, throwing it on the floor, then the shirt, a few buttons snapped off in the process, "This is mine," Quincy said, "you took it Yes, give it back to me!"

It turned out to be the military badge.The aluminum military badge has been worn close to the body for several years, and the metal surface has long since become dull due to oxidation. "I can't give it to you," Michael struggled to hold the military card, "It's a good idea, no, I won't give it to you—"

Quincy tugged at his hand, failed, and Michael made up his mind that he would never let go of the little sign in his hand unless he died.Quincy tried a few times, sitting angrily on Mike's waist, panting.Then, as if on a whim, he frantically undid Michael's belt, then the trousers, and finally the underwear—

"Damn, what do you want to do?" Michael was lying on his chest with a sharp pain, waving one hand wildly.His lower body was exposed to the cold evening air, "You German lunatic," he barely supported his arms and raised his head, "fuck you!"

There are a million ways to suffer more than simply beheading or shooting.For example, castration.Penis is the root of all evil, Michael breathed heavily, curled up with one leg, Quincy's hands grabbed his stuff, well, just a knife... he's pretty good with a knife isn't he?There is a paper knife in the pen holder on the desk...

"Let go!" Michael kicked and kicked, "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." Sure enough, every word in the "Bible" is true.Five years ago he raped Quincy, and five years later Quincy castrated him, with knives, hands, and teeth.coming!Michael stared in horror as Quincy bit his cock.

"..."

The expected pain did not come.Michael's mind went blank for a few seconds in extreme fear.Consciousness slowly awakened in a warm and humid place, he lowered his head stiffly, and saw Quincy knelt on the ground, awkwardly licking his dirty thing with his tongue, feeling ashamed while licking Or embarrassing, tears rolled down his cheeks.