Before you begin reading, I want to add a few notes for you to keep in mind. This AU fic will take you back to the long-gone days of World War II set in Nazi Germany. Under Adolf Hitler's reign, millions of people suffered and were put to death because of his views. Using Midgar as a fictional Germany, and President Shinra as a fictional Hitler, it is my hope that this fic shows both sides of the fence, where "blood and honor" will stand for more than just an old Hitler Youth slogan. There were good soldiers. In this fic, you'll meet Shinra "special force" soldiers out for blood - a fictional nod to Hitler's SS men - and you'll meet regular soldiers in the war simply because they love their country. On the flip side, you'll meet a few special people who use their honor to help save many lives when all is said and done.
I had this idea over six years ago, and I feel it's finally time to tell the story. Twenty years of personal research and personal experience went into writing this fic, but keep in mind that historically i'll have to change a few things to fit in with the flow of the fictional world and characters.
WARNINGS: Fic will include male/male pairings; after all, yaoi is what I write. There will be violence, foul language, deaths, all of it. You name it, it will probably be in here. I understand this fic will not be everyone's cup of tea, and it will be quite different from what I usually write. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
Not written for profit. Characters owned by Square Enix.
"Verkünden wir den jüngsten tag;
Es wird kein erbarmen geben.
Lauft! Lauft um euer leben!
/
Diese tage eure letzten sind.
Wie stäbchen wird es euch zerbrechen."
['We announce the judgement day; There will be no mercy. Run! Run for your lives! / These days will be your last. It will break you apart like little sticks.']
- Rammstein, 'Der Meister' [The Master]
The hour was becoming late and the street was as empty as the houses on the next block over - they had had been liquidated the day before. Not a soul was left in sight on this street that the blond walked. His pair of old, worn-down shoes shuffled along. The sound cut through the silence like a knife at the butcher's shop. It was cold; almost too cold. The sky was dark and the stars were bright, which was quite normal for this time of year in Midgar.
Cloud ducked in and out of the shadows, hoping to reach home before he was caught. He was not supposed to be out after curfew, but he had been held back at a friend's house. The black market was always open at Tifa's house, where she lived with twelve other people. He had traded a stolen sweater full of holes for two small potatoes. It wouldn't be much to go on, but he figured he could make them last for two days if he rationed them properly.
As he shuffled along in his raggedy shoes, he accidentally kicked a rock. The sound carried through the stillness, and he froze.
Silence.
Hastily, he urged himself on through the dark, cursing to himself. He thought about Tifa and her housemates, huddled together as a group at night, three small blankets to warm all thirteen people in her home. He shook his head. Tifa would be shot if the Shinra police caught wind of her black market business.
Business. He scoffed to himself. He used to have a business before Shinra took it away. Fucking Shinra. In his mind, he saw himself working in his old tailor shop, mending suits all day for the good people of Midgar.
Hardly anyone is left that is good.
"Halt!" a voice called out in the dark to him. He heard boots clomping toward him, and he stopped in his tracks. As he stood at attention for the Shinra soldier, he quickly removed his hat. He tried to hide the shaking of his hands. He should be used to this by now, after years of living this way.
"What are you doing out past curfew, you stinking swine?" the soldier shouted. He pointed his rifle at Cloud, his finger on the trigger.
"S-Sir, I am trying to get home…" Cloud began, but stopped when the soldier shifted his rifle to his shoulder, letting it hang on the strap. The soldier reached out and snatched Cloud's hat from him and waved it above the blond's head.
"You can try to get it back, pig. Go ahead, try!" the soldier crowed. The black Shinra symbol stood out against the red armband that it was on, and Cloud glared at it. He shifted his eyes to the soldier's face, not daring to try to get his hat back. He had seen this trick played once, and the man had received a severe beating in front of everyone.
"N-no sir, you may have my hat," Cloud stammered. He looked down at his feet, the shaking spreading from his hands to his toes. He felt the warmth of piss begin to trickle down his leg, and before he could stop it, it began to stream out. Suddenly he was standing in a puddle, his shoes soaked as he looked on in shame.
"Mother fucker," the soldier scowled, dropping Cloud's hat to the ground. "You dare to dirty Shinra's streets with your piss!"
"I-I'm sorry, sir," Cloud mumbled.
First came the shove. He felt the back of his head hit the ground; he saw stars momentarily. Second came the kicks to his groin, to his kidneys. The third thing was darkness, and the sound of shouting Shinra soldiers and boots clomping towards him in a hurry.
He came to on a train.
He heard the clack-clack-clacking of the train rolling down the tracks, felt every nudge of the people in the cattle car with him.
Cattle car? People? A train?
He sat up slowly, his entire body aching from the beating he had received. He reeked of his own piss and smelled feces across the cattle car. He gagged and held a hand over his face. Gaia, what is this?
"You're finally awake," he heard a soft voice say to him. He looked toward the direction of the voice, blinking against the darkness of the car. A woman about his age, petite with long brown hair in a single braid hanging down her back, looked on at him with kindness and worry.
"Where are we?" Cloud asked the woman, trying to block out the smell of humans crunched together in such a small place. He glanced around in the darkness, steadily surveying the faces of the wretched. These were the faces of his brothers, his sisters. Not related in any way, but by Gaia, they were all humans trapped in a world gone mad and being tortured on command by a ruthless ruler, President Shinra.
President Shinra's group of elite soldiers served as the special forces who used their power for controlling the population of Midgar. Among these tortured souls, such as Cloud and Tifa, who had lived in the slums, were being secretly liquidated on a daily basis. Most of them disappeared and were never heard from again. There had been a rumor that President Shinra had given his cronies the order to liquidate everyone and force them into work or death camps, where most people were killed on the spot. The so-called "lucky ones" were forced to work for ersatz coffee and bits of potato skins floating in rancid soup. They were all just rumors, right?
He remembered the day that President Shinra came to power, and eventually the day came where terror reigned in the slums. Shinra's special forces had marched through the slums in a show of power, their boots echoing off of the walls of homes and businesses that lined the street. Cloud had seen his fair share of people being beaten and shot in the streets. Infants with their heads bashed against lamp posts. Crying, screaming mothers collapsing in fits and being shot; their dead infants thrown on top of them. Left in the street to rot.
Oh, the stench.
Cloud leaned over and dry-heaved onto the floor of the cattle car. Nothing came up but stomach acid. Gaia, he was hungry. He patted his pockets for the two small potatoes he had traded from Tifa. They were gone. He looked over at the woman who had spoken to him. In terror, he realized he didn't need to ask her where they were and why they were even there. He knew why.
The rumors had been true.
"Everything will be alright," the woman said, patting him gently on the arm. "When we get there, we will be given food and water. They need workers, and they will want us to be strong and healthy. You'll see."
Cloud shook his head. "So we're the lucky ones, are we?" he said in a disgusted way, as she nodded in response. "No. The lucky ones are already dead," he added.
"But you're wrong. We have a second chance. We can show them how well we work, and they will keep us alive, just watch," the woman said confidently. She gave him a short smile. "My name is Aerith, by the way. I lived with your friend Tifa. I saw you earlier last night when you came to trade." She touched her hole-riddled sweater and smiled. "This has kept me warm."
Cloud smiled, despite himself. "I'm Cloud. Tifa and I grew up together," he said. "I can't believe you haven't taken that sweater off yet. It's as hot as Ifrit's Hell in here."
"When we get off of the train, it will be cold again," Aerith said. Sweat dripped from her forehead and down her brow. She swiped it away and made a face.
"How long was I asleep for?" Cloud asked. He wished he could stretch, but too many people were cramped inside the car.
"Just a few hours. I heard the commotion outside when you were being beaten. The Shinra soldier knocked you out with a kick to the head. You were laying on the street bleeding when the order came through to liquidate our block of the slums. Tifa and I and the others were marched out at gunpoint to the railway, then herded into several cattle cars. They later threw you in here with us. I don't know where Tifa is," she sniffled.
"I'm sure she's on another car," Cloud replied, letting the details sink in.
"What was the beating for?" Aerith asked.
Cloud grimaced. "I'd rather not talk about it," he said, turning his head in shame.
"It's okay, Cloud. I can smell it on you."
Cloud groaned and closed his eyes, leaning against the boards of the cattle car. He drifted off to sleep, dreaming of days gone by.
It seemed as if only mere hours had gone by when he awoke, but it had been almost a full day. Aerith sat huddled next to him, reeking of her own filth, the stench of piss between the two of them hitting his nostrils with a vengeance. He gagged and groaned, pulling the collar of his shirt over his mouth and nose.
"Gaia, Aerith. It smells like a cesspool in here," he moaned.
"I... I'm sorry. I couldn't make it to the bucket," she replied, looking down shamefully. "I don't want to go over there."
"Why not?" Cloud asked. She pointed. In the dim sunlight filtered in through the two small barbed wire-covered windows, he saw: three shit-covered corpses lay by the bucket intended for human waste. He shuddered and remained silent.
They didn't speak for some time after that, choosing to sit in silence and ponder their surroundings. He began to daydream about food. A crust of bread, a drop of water. Anything to squelch the hunger pains.
"Tell me, what else have you heard about the camps?" Cloud asked Aerith, trying to take his mind off of food. His stomach growled in pain as he awaited her reply.
She shrugged. "I heard there are special showers there. But it's only a rumor, Cloud. Don't think too hard on it," she answered, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut.
"A shower would be nice," Cloud said dreamily, believing that she meant the showers would be special in a good way. He sighed happily. "And a bit of potato dumpling soup with black bread. My mom made the best soup and bread on Gaia when she was alive."
"What happened to her?"
"Shinra's soldiers, like everything else. They came in one day to the block across our street where mom was visiting a family friend. They shot her down like a dog when she refused to raise her arm in the Shinra salute," Cloud explained. He raised his arm in a mock Shinra salute, his arm outstretched, hand straightened. "Hail Shinra," he said with an undertone of hate in his voice. He dropped his arm and looked at Aerith. "Fuck Shinra."
Aerith nodded in agreement, and silence took over them once more.
Suddenly, the train came to a slow roll, and there was a commotion at the small window on the left. People were clamoring and pushing each other with what little strength they had left, eager to see where they were stopping. The sun had almost set, and the night was approaching fast. Through squinting eyes, one man got the first glimpse of their destination.
"Tell us, what do you see?" a man called out.
"It looks like a rail station. There's flowers planted all around the gate. It's a sight for sore eyes!" the man exclaimed, clapping his hands together once as if in a silent prayer. Everyone gasped and hugged each other.
"See?" one woman hissed, "I told you we would be safe!"
"Everyone, pinch your cheeks and look strong!"
"I cannot wait for a hot meal and a warm bed. I will gladly work for that."
Music could be heard as the train got closer to the station. A glimpse outside the window would have shown a group of four men, starving and cold, playing instruments to lighten the mood of the new arrivals.
A glimpse past the mock station would reveal what really went on in the camp.
When the train came to a stop, shouts of "Out! Out! Hurry, you slum swine!" could be heard as the cattle car doors were thrown open. The shouting shook most of the occupants to their core, many of them realizing that there was something more beyond the brightly-colored flowers at the mock station.
"Out! Hurry!" a Shinra soldier shouted, pointing his rifle into the car. Cloud and Aerith grabbed one another for support as they helped each other off of the train, only to be ripped apart from each other.
"Men to the left! The elderly, women, and children to the right! Hurry!" another soldier ordered, snapping a leather whip at them. The whip caught Aerith on the side of her face, and she shrieked, falling to the ground. She cried and covered her head as blows rained down on her. After the soldier had had enough of whipping her, he yanked her up and shoved her to the right side. Bleeding and sniveling, she followed the line until it arrived in the main camp yard. Cloud was in the opposite line with the men, his arms wrapped around his chest.
At the end of the line, there was a table set up. Shinra soldiers patrolled the area, keeping a close eye on the new arrivals as they approached the table to have their information written in a ledger. They were to give their name, their age, and occupation if applicable. When Cloud's turn came, he stared down at his feet, as he had been taught by force to do when approaching a Shinra soldier.
"Name, age, occupation," the soldier said dryly, not bothering to look up.
"Cloud Strife, sir. I'm 21, and I used to own a tailor shop."
The Shinra soldier looked up then, and sneered. "A business owner, huh. Surprise, surprise," he scowled. He turned to the man standing behind him. "Doctor Hojo, this one's a tailor," he said. The doctor nodded and waved Cloud over.
"A tailor? I'm in need of a new tailor in this place. The old one, he… well…" Hojo laughed into a clenched fist. "He's no longer in service. Let's just leave it at that for now."
"Sir, I will gladly take the job," Cloud said through clenched teeth as the doctor laughed again.
"Of course you will. Or would you rather have a shower?"
"No sir. I will gladly start working immediately," Cloud responded quickly. "I am a hard worker. I won't let you down, sir."
Hojo laughed and pointed him over to a nearby building. "Go in there and do as they tell you. You can start work tomorrow, bright and early!" he said.
Cloud walked to the building and took a quick glance back at the lines. Aerith stood at the table now, crying and giving them her information. The soldier stood up and slapped her, then jerked his thumb in the direction of the barracks. Cloud turned around quickly as a soldier shouted at him from inside the building.
Would they ever meet again? He was doubtful.
"Get your ass over here!" a soldier shouted to him. "Strip down!"
Cloud undressed quickly and nervously; he'd never been nude in front of anyone before. The soldier leered at him. A shirt and a pair of pants were tossed at him, along with a pair of shoes. The shoes were mismatched, and one shoe was larger than the other. The shirt was piss-stained and holey, and it was too big for him. The pants were too tight.
He was herded with a group of fellow inmates to a hair-cutting area. Fellow prisoners stood at the ready, crude manual hair clippers in their hands. Cloud sat in a chair and wept silently as his hair was painfully clipped down to his scalp. The prisoner looked down at him, pain reflected in his eyes.
"Quiet now. They'll see your weakness. You must never show weakness in this place," the prisoner said. "I'm sorry I hurt you, but I must hurry in order to keep up with the crowd. I will get a beating if I don't."
"It's… fine," Cloud mumbled, his head down.
"The name's Vincent," the man said. "Promise me you'll keep your head up, no matter what." He stuck out his hand to Cloud and they shook on it.
"I'm Cloud Strife. I'll do what I can to keep that promise."
"You do that," Vincent said. He pointed toward the door. "You have to leave now, but maybe we will see each other later. Go through that door and you'll be in the main yard again. From there, form a line with the other new inmates. The soldier at the head of the line will give you your number, which you are to memorize. Then..." He raised his shirt sleeve, revealing a tattooed number on his forearm.
"It only hurts for a little while. Remember, you are just a numbered corpse here. You no longer have a name. Keep that in mind," Vincent said in a hushed tone.
Shaken, Cloud gave Vincent a quick nod and went to stand in line. It was completely dark outside now, and getting quite cold. Hours went by, and still they stood, shivering and pissing themselves. Many fell over from sheer exhaustion and hunger, and they never got back up. Many were shot where they fell.
Is this all there is for the rest of my life? Fuck you, President Shinra.
According to President Shinra, the people of the slums were worthless. In his eyes, they stank, they were greedy, and overall they were the reason that Gaia was in such ruins. He wanted to rid Gaia of their type, leaving no one left but the people outside of the slums. He wielded such power of the people of Gaia that they would do anything he would tell them to do. Not only were many of the citizens cruel, but the Shinra special forces were even crueler, bowing to the President's every command and taking back Gaia with a force unimaginable.
One Shinra soldier, a mere guard who had not yet had the privilege of joining the elite ranks of the special forces, stood off to the side watching the new arrivals. With his rifle at his side, he leaned back against a wall and cocked his head, lazily dragging on a cigarette.
The blond, third from last in the row.
They locked eyes.
Reno took a final drag from his hand-rolled cigarette, stomped it out with his boot, and walked away. He couldn't deal with this shit right now. He had a job to do.