Welcome to Resistance is about a group of about 20 people who fight the Nazis during WW2. It is history, romance, tragic, drama, crime, suspense, adventure and hurt comfort but I just put it as drama and suspense. This chapter is going to introduce some of the characters. It will take a while to actually come to the action part so please wait patiently. I have a life you know.

This is not a true story (fanfiction) and isn't based on fact, the dates are made up and so are the characters. Leave a bone? Pwease? Ok, on with the story, ruff! O right and this is an update, if you read it before, his name was Jacob but Jakob is the German way it is written so that's why I changed it. Chapter 4 will be in a few days, or weeks (depends), time. Btw if I we get to 20 reviews the 20th reviewer will be mentioned in my story! Start reviewing! Enough talk, let's go!

Jakob's POV

1941

These are rough times. It's almost autumn, and Henree, Stefan, Daniel and I will be off to St. Petersburg and then to shelter. I, personally, do not know where this shelter is, or if it exists, but, what can I say? I just trust Uncle Avraham.

Frankfurt drastically changed since Hitler rose to power. From all I ever knew – my country, my home - to a strange, violent place – my friends, teachers and everyone I've ever known suddenly started to spit at my feet, swear at me and call me names – how can someone be so hostile, so mean? Those hateful Germans, with their petty ideals – they didn't mean a thing. I was more "Aryan" than over half of the children at my school – I had light colored hair! I was athletic!

It didn't really matter to me - you get used to it. I never was popular at school, sticking to a certain crowd; only one friend had lasted after Hitler rose to power and started to brainwash Germany.

That one friend was Shlomo – I called him Shlomi- and, he too, was Jewish. He was tall and lean, with curly black hair and thick, dark eyebrows that almost completely covered his bright green eyes.

Those eyes had always hinted a sense of trouble, except the day he heard about the letter. We all knew what that meant. That day, the day he told me they were being deported, is a day I will never forget. It was 1935, we were both thirteen then.

"Shalom Jake," he said gravely, his shoulders slumped.

"Shlomi, what happened?" Shlomi was never grave.

"Mother got a letter from Berlin," he said, but didn't continue. He looked like he was in pain.

"What did it say?" I urged, a strange feeling creeping up inside me.

"Mother and Erik are being deported to Auschwitz," his sentence broke off on Erik, his baby brother; Erik, the little boy with brown hair and dimples. I saw his tears welling up in his eyes and glisten in the afternoon sun.

"No," it wasn't an argument; it was a weak, defeated sigh. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. Erik wasn't just Shlomi's little brother, he was like my little brother too, not physically blood and bone, but a brother nonetheless. Shlomi was my best friend then, so we were like extended family.

I reopened my eyes. Shlomi looked like a limp scarecrow; head bowed, eyes closed and clothes that were way to big on him made him look sickly thin. I put my hands on his shoulders, trying to give him some support – show him I was there for him, but he seemed in too much emotional pain to notice me. I took a step back, hands still on his shoulders, and told him as firmly as I could possibly muster, "They'll be alright, I promise you that. They will."

That promise was broken before I had even finished that sentence.

"How can you possibly know? Erik is only six; they will immediately go to the gas chambers!"

I rolled my eyes; the gas chambers were, of course, true, but nobody at the time really believed that there was such a thing.

"Ok look. Maybe they won't be as safe as they are at home with you and your Pa, but they can surely take care of themselves, at least your mother can."

That was the stupidest thing I had ever said because Shlomi's life depended on it, of course, I didn't know that at the time either.

A glint of hope mixed with what looked like fear flickered into my friend's eyes as soon as the sentence was out of my mouth.

"That's it!" He exclaimed and threw his hands up in triumph, all signs of pain ceased. Poor Shlomi, if only he didn't think of that stupid plan. That plan cost him his life.

"What did I say?" I asked warily. Depend on Shlomi to have a plan at hand.

"I can take good care of them. All those times Pa was at the hospital…" He was already running down the street and across the road to his house, the sun setting behind him.

"Goodbye Shlomi!" Then I mumbled, "take care." If only I stopped him then, demanded to know what he will do.

Poor Shlomi.

Sorry for closing the story there it's just that I thought it was good to close it there. Did you like it? Review so I'll know to keep on writing! Oh and Daniel, Henree, Avraham and Stefan are going to be mentioned later in the story and I'll think about mentioning other characters from the Host or Defiance. Like I said before, could you pwease leave a bone? Ruff?