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"Well this is great." A strong, southern accent was sent from between the lips of a very unhappy individual as he traversed the land of a battle-scarred France.
The troop of a small army's boots squished against the ground as they treaded through a dense forest. It had been raining for days and they were soaked to the bone, shivering and twitching as each drop hit their tired skin. Not to mention that a few were hurt from their last battle with the Nazi scum a few days ago. It was hard for wounds to heal when you were constantly moving around, not letting it settle and seam itself back together.
"Hey, there's a light up ahead lieutenant!" Scream a darker hair man, his finger pointing in the direction of the small flickering hope that would shelter them in their time of need.
"Alright boys! Let's check er' out!" The troop quickly began to run in the direction of the light, their squishing causing small woodland creatures of cower in fear of the running giants before them. Squirrels retreated into their holes in trees and mice found shelter under the leaves that was dotted all around the ground.
Once they reached the front door of said home, they prepared themselves to take what was needed. Shelter, food, maybe even a hot bath if the water ran. Aldo, the lieutenant and leader of said group, turned his head over to one of their German members.
"Hugo, go see whose home." Aldo said, shaking his head in a sad effort to get at least some of the freezing rain from his face and moustache. The violent actions nearly caused his beret to fall from his head. The serious German went to the front door, hand on his large weapon, before kicking open the door, only to be met with something he was not expecting, something his knife wouldn't be able to outwit.
"Hey now...no need for that woman." Hugo backed away slowly, his hands coming up into the air, showing an 'I surrender' position. "I haven't done anything to you."
Hardened eyes and a steady hand pointed his way with a welcome that could easily be his death. Hugo's greeter...was a girl. And a young one at that. The pistol she pointed looked to have seen its better days and the redness of her cold eyes showed that she has experienced much pain in the last few hours, or days, or possible even years. With the war going on it was hard to tell, but she was hurting.
"You're a German, and I don't trust you. Besides you kicked down my door. Give me a reason why I shouldn't shoot you where you stand and watch your blood color my porch." Even her voice was icy. Long, black, braided hair and blue eyes defined her and her small frame. Hugo easily stood at least a head and a half over her, but she held a spirit of fire within her and no amount of water or rain could put it out.
"Answer me before I pull this trigger!" She screamed, glaring at the group of men before her.
"Hey now. Look, we're sorry bout the door. We'll fix it. You ain't German, that's for sure. Jewish?" Also asked, trying to gain a little trust so none of them would be shot and killed.
"Of course I'm Jewish. You obviously aren't either, where you from?"
"My name is Lieutenant Aldo Raine, I'm-" As he began to speak, she cut him off quickly.
"I didn't ask for your name, lieutenant. I asked where you are from. And while you're at it, tell me why this brute has kicked down my door before I put a bullet in his head." Seeing a girl as young as she this act the way she did was unnerving. Was she emotionally unstable? No, she held her ground and spoke true. Maybe this had happened to her before, someone knocking down her door and doing unmentionable things to her? It would make anyone paranoid.
It made Aldo squirm. "Sorry. I'm from Maynardville, Tennessee." He spoke no more, not wanting to provoke the girl any further than they already had. He supposed that they could have at least knocked. Maybe then they wouldn't have ended up in a situation like they were in.
"Tennessee? Huh, I know exactly who you are. You're the infamous group that plagues the Germans. Speaking of which, why is there a German in your party then? Surely he doesn't kill his own kind."
"This is Hugo Stieglitz. He killed thirteen Gestapo officers, and he fights with us. He ain't gonna hurt you. But if you don't put that gun down, then I hate to say it, but some of us is going to get hurt...including you. And I don't like givin' threats to a woman, let alone one as young as you. So why don't we start over?" Also opened up his hands to her, trying to show her that they really weren't a threat to her. They fought for the Jews, not against them.
Giving in a deep sigh, she lowered the gun slowly, never taking her eyes off of the burly group of men before her. "Fine. If you are who you say you are, and by the accent I have no doubt, you are on my side."
"Yea that sounds about right." Aldo responded, thankful that she was starting to understand reason. Well, he hoped at least. "Look, we ain't goin' to hurt ya, we promise. We're with you, all we wanted was a place to get out of the rain, so do ya mind?"
Rolling her eyes, the girl stepped to the side, watching as the group of men quickly came inside her home, taking off their rain covered jackets and hanging them on the provided coat rack by the door. "Alright, let's get one thing straight. If any of you try anything while your here, I will shoot you dead and leave you in the backyard for the animals to feast on."
"Trust us, we ain't goin' try anything. We're sorry for bustin' down ya door, truly we are. I think we got started on the wrong foot and I'm sure you're a lot sweeter than you seem to be right now. Let's call a truce and just be friends for awhile, how's that sound miss..." Aldo stuck out his hand while he spoke, but when he went to say her name it slipped that she hadn't even given it to him yet.
Surprisingly, she grasped his hand in a warm shake, a small smile on her face now as she realized that she was in no danger. "Clara. My name is Clara."
"Well Clara, ya look a little young to be here all by yourself, your parent's home?" Aldo asked, happy now that not only did he and his men have a place to stay, but possibly a new safe house if the girl would provide it to them on other occasions.
"My parents. They're in the backyard if you want to talk to them." Aldo quickly looked over to Donny, and made a motion with his head, telling him to come on so that they may speak with the elders of the house for a possibly future reference
As they made their way through the kitchen and to the backdoor, a nagging thought couldn't be erased from the back of Donny's mind. "I wonder what they are doing outside in the rain." He muttered out, only to be stopped by Aldo before the trudged back out into the rain.
As both men looked out the back of the screen door, under a tree they saw two very large, very fresh looking, piles of dirt with a small cross at the base of them. "Well now we know. Poor thing." Aldo muttered under his breath that last part and went back to Clara, she hadn't even moved from her spot in the living room.
"I take it your talk didn't go as planned?" She asked, her arms crossed over her chest and she watched every action his other men took. They were slowly disrobing what they could without become indecent.
"I'm sorry Clara. But since you are now the owner, can I ask ya a few questions?" Aldo asked, walking back up to her as Donny began doing what the others were.
"Sure." She said.
"Well first off, I thank ya for lettin' us stay here for the time bein'. And second, you have any way to patch some of us up? We're a little scratched from our last fight."
She let a small slip onto her face. "Before my father passed, he practiced in the medical field. I'm actually good at patching people up. Whether it be from splinting a broken bone, sewing up a cut, or curing them from illness." She went back into the kitchen and pulled out a large bag, clearly her father's medical tools before her passed.
"Thank ya. How old are ya anyways? You seem kind of young, but you act awful mature." Now that he and Clara were on friendly terms, he can finally ask her some questions without it being so tense and awkward.
"I'm nineteen lieutenant. Now which ones need patched up?"
"Wiki, Donny, Hugo! Get over here if you want to feel better." Aldo yelled, happy that he was able to find someone willing to help. The three men quickly came over to the pair, glad at finally being fixed up.
"Alright Donny has a scratch on his back, Wiki's nose is roughed up, and Hugo hit his head so we don't know much about that."
"Alright, Wiki you're first. That nose needs to be fixed before the bone starts to heal that way. How long has it been broken?" Clara pulled a chair from the kitchen table and put in front of her, pushing Wiki down into it by the shoulders so she could get a better look.
"About two days now." His deep voice was gruff and tired sounding. The war was taking everything away from everybody, including their energy. Clara went back to the kitchen and grabbed a small wash cloth. She rolled it up and told Wiki to open his mouth. He look at her, a bit confused as his head tilter slightly.
"Here, bite down on it when I realign the bone. It'll hurt." Clara said. Wiki did as he was told and opened his mouth, accepting the cloth that was given to him. He soon felt Clara's soft hand on his face, her thumbs on either side of his broken nose. It was strange. None of the men have seen, let alone felt the touch of a woman in months. Her soft skin was a welcomed relief to him, for the time being anyways.
She gave a short pause and looked at him. "You ready?"
"Hmmm."
She quickly pushed her thumbs in to snap the bone back in place and Wiki gave out a painful groan from the action, biting down hard upon the cloth. She took away her hands and removed the cloth from his mouth, using the clean inside to wipe the sweat and blood from his face. "Alright, you're done. Here, take this, it'll help with the pain. You're lucky that I didn't have to sew you up as well."
Clara reached into her father's old bag and pulled out a few pain pills, giving them to Wiki along with a glass of water. "Ok your next." She made a motion for Donny and made him sit to where his chest was facing the back of the chair, his legs on either side of it to accommodate the position better.
Blood soaked through the back of his wife beater, making it hard to see the actual damage he has sustained. "Would you mind taking off your shirt?"
Normally, the large brute Donny would have been a bit embarrassed by those words, but after what he had been through, he couldn't give a crap about anything Clara wanted. If she told him jumping into a pile of manure would make the pain go away then he would run out into the nearest field and take a swim.
"Yea." Donny made an attempt to pull off the shirt, but quickly hissed and stopped when he realized that for some reason it wasn't moving. "Why won't it come off?"
"I thought the rain would have soaked through enough, but I guess not. Give me a minute." Clara once again went back to the kitchen, returning with a small bowl of steaming water and another wash cloth. "The blood has dried to the shirt, so I need to soak it to get it loose. It may take a few minutes so get comfortable."
Donny leaned his head against his forearms as they came to rest of the back of the chair while Clara began to dab at his shirt, pushing in slightly to make sure that the water soaked through to the skin.
"How did you all get in this shape anyways?"
"It's a long story. One we don't like to think about." Aldo shot it quickly. He had managed to make himself at home on her couch in the living room. Head on a spare pillow and feet up and hanging over the other end made him look as though he was about to fall asleep.
"Fine. Don't tell me. Alright try your shirt again and see if that helped any." Once again Donny made a motion to pull off his shirt, and thanks to Clara, it slid off easily. His exposed back looked absolutely dreadful. Blood was caked everywhere and there was a long laceration that went nearly from top to bottom. It started at his left shoulder blade and in a diagonal sweep, went to a little past the middle of his back on the opposite side.
"Goodness that's a big one. What'd you do, take a sword and whack yourself?" Clara reached into her father's bag and pulled out a curved needle, thread, and disinfectant. Cleaning Donny's back was not something he enjoyed, though he could tell she was trying to be as gentle as possible. Every time she would run across the cut it felt like fire scorching him from the outside in on that one particular spot.
"Ready for me to start sewing now?"
"Yea, just get it done."
Clara wiped disinfectant down the length of the cut, as well as dipped the needle in it, and began at the top of the cut. She pushed the needle through the skin and made Donny wince slightly. The thread burned as well as it was being pulled through his tender skin.
"You want something to bite on?" She asked, keeping the delicate pace she had as she patched up the rough skin.
"No, I'm good." He breathed out, trying to get his mind on something else as she made her way down his back. But if this would help in the long run, then so be it, sew away, he thought to himself.
It seemed ages that she pricked him, pulled and pricked again. But at long last, her voice called out to him in a sweet melody. "Ok, you're done. Just don't do anything to break the stitches; otherwise I'll have to do them again. Trust me; it'll be more painful for you that it will be for me, so no heavy lifting or twisting."
"I guess your next Hugo." Donny said, getting up from the chair as Clara began to wash the blood from her hands in the bowl of water she had brought over. Hugo was silent as he sat down, waiting for her to finish before she started on his head injury.
"I guess I should apologize for earlier. But with the war going on, it's hard to not to think of everyone as some type of enemy. Especially since my parents died by the hands of a German. I hope you can accept it."
Hugo gave off a gruff nod. That's about as good as it was going to get for now. He was wet, hurt, hungry, dirty, and all around didn't feel good in general. Clara was lucky she got a nod, let alone a grunt. "Close enough." She muttered, going over and inspecting his head, pushing his hair to the side and finding a small cut.
"This one isn't too bad actually. It looks bad but in reality it's just a scratch. It doesn't even need sewing. The most I can do is disinfect it and give you some pain medicine. Oh here, I didn't give you any."
Clara quickly fished out more pain pills and gave them to the two men, but as she laid them in the hands of Donny, another shout caused everyone to jump in shock, and a little bit of fear, not to mention the flat out confusion and surprise that took them.
"H-Help me please! Please help me I'm begging you, please!" Clara narrowed her eyes and stomped her way through the kitchen and the living room. Making her way to the end of a hall, she slammed a door that resided there. She gave out a frustrated sigh of anger when a hand was suddenly placed on her shoulder, squeezing slightly.
"Wanna tell me what that was?" Aldo urged. Was she keeping someone locked in her basement? His eyes darted to the doorknob, wanting to know who was down there, but more important, why they were down there.
"Aldo, my parents died three months ago. Do you know the last time a German dared to enter this home uninvited?" She seethed out.
"I don't know Clara, when?"
Another scream came from the basement and her eyes narrowed in hatred. "Three months ago. Come on, I'll let you say hello, he'll want to see another face besides mine." Aldo gave a glance over to the rest of his men, and they followed Clara down into the flickering basement. What they saw next surprised them to the point that they were almost squeamish.
The wood creaked with every step they took down them, and Clara flicked on another light once she set foot on the concrete floor below. She gazed forward in absolute hatred, anger already burning within her just at seeing the man. "Good evening officer. I don't appreciate you making all that noise when I have guests over you know. It's not polite."
Aldo looked forward, eyes widening slightly at what he saw. Tied to a chair, that was bolted down to the floor, was a German officer. His shirt was torn off and there were little of his pants remaining. He was still dressed fairly decent though.
"Let me ask you boys something. Have you ever heard of the term Lingchi?" Clara walked forward, draping her hand over the scared Germans shoulder. She almost delighted in feeling him shiver. No, she DID delight in feeling him shiver under her touch. She wanted him to fear her beyond all reason.
"Sounds Japanese to me. Why?" Aldo came forward. He could really care less about the German in her basement. He was more interested in the method in which the German was down here and the shape he was in. Bits of his skin were dotted around the floor, leaving his under muscle exposed to the outside world. Not enough to kill him, but enough to make him wish he were dead. He was covered in blood, but there were only certain parts of his body that had these bits of skin sliced off.
"Lingchi is Chinese, actually. The literal English translation is slow-slicing. What you see before you is that very method of...execution." Clara removed her hand and gave the officers cheek a smack. He whined and she rolled her eyes at him. "You deserve it."
"Clara, what are you getting at? Who is this German?" Aldo asked, watching as she walked here and there in the basement, flipping the bulb every now and then so it would stop its pesky flickering.
"I'll tell you in due time. Trust me. But first you need to know more about the method." She gave a glance to the group of men and noticed that some had taken residence on the stairs while others found a clean chair to sit it. "Lingchi is a method of execution that was used in China until the end of the Qing Dynasty. You slice the outer layer of a person skin, leaving their muscle exposed. Enough to make them feel pain, but not enough damage to actually make them die. The bleeding looks bad but in reality he's fine." Clara walked over to a table and grabbed a rusty knife. "Well, I wouldn't say fine. He's in no danger of dying yet."
The German whimpered as she traced the edge of it along his skin. "First, they would start with the chest, cutting off here and there. Then the arms," She dragged the knife down the Germans arm for good measure. "Then the stomach, the groin, the thighs, even the buttocks they would slice. Though as you can see, I haven't got that far yet."
"P-Please help me. I-I've been down here for months! I was only doing my orders! Please!" Eyes looked to the men with a desperate plea, but he was met with the same resolve. "I don't want to be here anymore. Please."
Clara took the knife and began to slither it under the skin of the mans left arm, making him scream out in pain. "No matter how much you scream, you aren't getting away from here. And no matter how much you say please either. You know why?" She drug the knife down quickly, creating a large cut down his arm before going back to the other side, doing the same. Once she was done, she pulled at the flabby skin and began to slice it from his body. Blood spurted on her face as she did this but she didn't care.
"No matter how much I screamed, you didn't stop. You put a bullet in both of my parents, the only family that I had. You killed them in their own beds. You didn't even give them a chance. And no matter how much I begged and pleaded, they would not come back to me. They will never come back to me." She ripped the final piece holding the skin to his body and slung it in a nearby corner. She watched as small tears began to form in the corner of the mans eyes and she stood in front of him, bending down and making the tip of the bloodied knife touch his nose.
"I cried for hours, days on end. I'm sure you heard you me down here. And still they are in my backyard, buried six feet under. You killed them and you will stay down here, alive, and in pain until I see fit to kill you. You've already killed me." She stuck the knife in his right leg and left it there for him to stare at.
"I'll be back later with your dinner. Can't have you dying from starvation." Clara walked over to the group of men and they all began to head back up the stairs. She was the last one out and gave a look back to the German, her hand on the light switch. "If I hear so much as a sniffle, don't you dare think I won't be back. I'll cut more skin off and throw alcohol on it to make it burn." She flipped off the light and left him alone in the dark. Shutting the door she walked back to the living room while giving out a sigh.
"What?" All the men were looking at her in slight disbelief and she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder.
"You got a little something there." Aldo handed her a wet cloth and she immediately remember that she probably had blood on her face. "Oh, thanks. Sorry, I probably got a little into down there."
"Just a little. You really surprised us down there, ya know. For someone so young, you're awful...unforgiving." Aldo found it difficult to find the right words to express what he just saw. "But come to think of it, that may not be a bad thing. We could always use a doctor in the group."
Clara went over and sat beside Donny on the couch, continuing to wipe blood from her person. It had managed to get on her arms as well. She didn't realize how much of a mess she was in. "What are you implying?"
"I'm saying that after we're done here and leave, you come with us. With that method of yours, you'd be a good interrogator. Not to mention you're a doctor and can patch us up on the road." Aldo stared her down, willing her to answer, but she remained quiet.
"You want me to come with you?" Clara stood, leaving the men in silence and went to the kitchens backdoor, watching as the rain poured down onto the ground. Aldo followed her, staring out the same window at the same crosses that were in the ground.
"Staying here ain't gonna bring them back. You're only causing yourself misery. Come with us; let all that anger out on the German scum." She listened closely to the words that he spoke. Very closely.
"If I go with you, can promise me that I won't be treated as some little girl? I don't want any doting. I can handle myself fine."
"Yep. My boys know when to hold their tongues, and after what they just saw, I'd say it's safe to bet they don't want on your bad side." Clara gave out a small chuckle and looked up to him.
"When do we leave?"
"How about the morning. We eat tonight, get a bath, a good nights rest and then head out at first light."
"Fine. There are a few spare beds but it's nothing fancy. I'm going to take shower and then go to sleep. The German will be fine without food for tonight." Clara walked back into the living room, giving a nod of her head to the men before disappearing into another room and shutting the door.
Morning came swiftly as the men rose. Multiple groans were heard as they woke, stretching themselves and making their stiff joints pop. "You ready Clara?" Donny asked while making an attempt to put on a cleaner shirt. He was having quite the bit of trouble though.
"Need some help?"
He nodded toward Clara and she stood on the couch, helping him pull the shirt down over his stitches without getting them hung and making them rip. He gave her a nod of thanks just as Aldo came over, his own knife in hand. A smirk was upon his face and he gave a grunt to the group.
"Well men, it's time to leave. But I think there's one more thing that needs to be done before we do, don't you think Clara?" He made a motion over to the door at the end of the hall.
"Of course." Clara, already prepared for the day ahead, walked slowly towards the back hallways door for the last time. She knew that whenever she passed about the Germans head, the floorboards would creak, letting him know that she was coming for him.
But this would be the last time.
"You going to watch or do I get some privacy?" Clara asked, glancing back as the group of men followed her. Getting at her hint, they backed off and waited in the living room for her to be finished with her business. "Thanks. This'll only take a moment, I promise you."
She opened the door and closed it just as quickly, flipping on the lights before she descended. She already could hear him whimpering. "Please...just let me go. I-I'll do anything, just let me go."
"You're begging is only degrading you." Clara approached him, taking a good long look at his marred body before wrapping her hand around the imbedding knife that was still in his leg. "I'm tired of hearing you. You and you're begging, you're crying. Even when I'm asleep, I hear it in my dreams. It won't go away."
Yanking hard, she ripped the knife from his leg, causing him to scream yet again. "But don't worry; I have been given an opportunity. I'm leaving this house today, so that only leaves me with one problem."
His eyes remained glued to the floor, but the tip of the knife under his chin quickly brought them up to hers. "What should I do with you? I could leave you here to starve. Or I could throw you into the backyard for the animals. Or I could just let you go I suppose."
"L-Let me go! I won't tell anyone what you've done I swear!" He screamed. Clara was sure that the boys could hear him above in the living room. They were waiting patiently for her to finish so she wasn't going to drag this out any more than it needed to be.
"Let you go? Maybe."
Clara stood right in front of the soldier, staring down into his eyes before closing her own, giving out a sigh. "Or maybe not." Before the soldier was able to react, Clara raised the knife and brought it down in the middle of his eyes, letting go of the handle as his head fell forward.
"You finally got what you deserved. Your life is over, but mine..."
Mine has just begun.