Plauged Chapter 1, a movie x-overs fanfic

Plagued

A PV FanFic

Hollister's Point of View

'I'm not a Nazi. I am not crazy. I'm not a Nazi. I'm not crazy.' I thought these thoughts daily… trying to figure out why I was here and for how long. Creak. I turned my head just in time to see one of them come into the dim cell.

"It's time for you to take your medicine," He said a wide grin on his face. "Nein," I uttered the useless words and I winced as I looked at the sharp, thin needle almost ready to inject the unneeded substance into my body. My hands clung to the hard stone wall as he inched closer. The needle coming closer… I must have fallen asleep after he injected me because when I awoke from my thin mattress the room was lit with the rays of morning barley streaming through the small window over head. How was this going to help me? How is locking me into a small closed room away from society supposed to help my issues? I got off the bed, collapsing on the floor from starvation. The food they served looked toxic. I soon came to learn that that too had medicine in it. It was going to make me better. I decided that I would only eat the medicine when the doctors didn't already injected me with it…which was at noon…which was not now.

My mother was born and raised in Orange County, California. She had long blonde hair and soft blue eyes. I later inherited both of these fine qualities when I was born on New Year's Day. I spent the first ten years of my life there a happy American child. These happy days were short lived because at the tender age of 11 my father packed me and my mother both up and moved us to his hometown of Frankfurt, Germany. I had grown up with both the German and English language but even knowing their language I still felt like an outsider. I long wished to go back to the sandy beaches of the OC.

As soon as I got used to the Euro and other German customs my father revealed the devastating news that he had long been a follower of the Neo-Nazis and supporter of the works and teachings of the late Adolf Hitler. Crazy right? Yet I'm the on in an asylum…but anyways, I didn't know much about the holocaust and that stuff but I knew that I could never grow up as a Nazi. As time dragged on my father became more strict. I could no longer attend public school and my father had me enrolled in a secret Hitler Youth organization. He moved in statues of ancient Germanic gods and pictures of Hitler and hung them all around our house.

"You must always remember to HEIL HITLER," he'd say to me before leaving for work in the early mornings. My dreams of some day becoming a writer were firmly forbidden. This forbidden dream is what started all the madness.

One day while doing his many inspections of the house he found one of my stories. He was outraged and the other followers thought that my signs of rebellion were early indications of a psychiatric disorder. The Nazis would never accept a psycho in the group.

At first I was overjoyed. I knew there was nothing wrong with me so I thought that my father would cart me back off to California…but I was wrong. Instead he carted me off to an asylum for intense treatment. He said he still wanted me to grow to be a strong Aryan woman. I fought and fought but even my own mother wouldn't help me. She was under his mind control. Now here I am…in my cold cell 16 years of age and still trying to find a way out.

"You have a visitor…" A new uniformed man entered the room and slowly helped me off of the floor. This was a different man…not the troll haired big guy that gives me the injections.

He led me down a long corridor and into an elevator. We went up many flights. I only get to leave my room when mother came to visit me. This was one of the cons of being in intensive care. This was also something that alarmed me…how was I to escape if I lived underground? As we headed up the atmosphere in the elevator changed. The air smelled…almost breathable. We came into the large spacious living area. This area had plants and windows and made the whole institute look like a happy place…I saw my mother sitting at the table waiting for me. Father never visited. He had too much official NAZI business to take care of.

"Mama…" I almost sighed as I took my seat across from her. She had gotten pudgier since the last time I had seen her.

"You look pale…have they been feeding you sweetie?" she asked smiling and blue eyes glistening. I didn't reply because every time I tried to tell her what torture it was here she would just look around at the viewable interior and say that I was over reacting and I'd be leaving very soon.

"How is Papa doing?" I asked changing the subject.

"Not so well dear. I'm becoming afraid of him…Last week he found out that my mother's sister is Jewish. He forced me to stop all contact with my family," she looked away. How could my mother take this? She must really love my wretched excuse of a father to be able to endure all of this.

"Mama…how can you really deal with all that he is doing? How can you let him do this to me? A whole 16 years of my life completely wasted on this stupid mumbo jumbo about The Fuehrer! (Hitler)" I was almost at tears. This whole thing was so bizarre. Why was this all happening to me? Why me?

"I think that the doctors didn't give you enough of your medicine… I'll tell them to get you some more and then you can just go to sleep and relax," She got up and after she spoke to one of them they headed over to me. They practically had to drag me away into the elevator. I screamed No! Nein! Stop! But they didn't listen. They dragged me into my room and injected me anyways. When they left I realized that it was lunch time…what a shame I had to miss food for today.

2 years later

I lay on my bed looking up to the blank ceiling, hands folded and resting on my chest…even being as many floors down as I was I could still hear the sound of celebration coming for the many levels above. Suddenly one of them burst into the room.

"It's the New Year! Happy 18th birthday!" She came into the room and locked the door behind her. As she sat at the foot of my bed I sat up alarmed. They had never been this calm with me.

"What do you want from me??" I spoke in English.

"You are 18 now…a young woman…we must wait and see how long you stay." With that she left the room. I was confused at this strange response. I was 18. I had been in here for 4 years…

A week later

Mother sat across from me at the visiting table. She brought no cake or way of celebrating my belated birthday. Her face was pale and white. After a long while of soundlessness I spoke,

"Mama, what worries you?" I asked surprised by the way she was acting. My mother was not my favorite person in the world…In fact I promised myself that as soon as I was old enough to leave the country I would cut all ties with her and my crazy father…but seeing her in such a state made me worry about my own well being. My fears were soon justified for in a few minutes after I asked, she answered.

"They're going to kill you," tears were now rolling down her face.

"What?? Who's going to kill me Mama? Who's going to kill me," I was filled more of shock than of fear.

"Your father and the Nazis! Their going to kill you!"

Watch out for part 2.

Princess Vengeance™