Elfren and his father were being loaded up into one truck. They'd just been both torn from his mother, who was sent to another vehicle to be tranfered somewhere else. As they were pulled apart his father began fightning against the Nazi's, crying out .
"Why are you doing this? Why are we being serperated?"
Efren watched in horror as they began to beat his father's ever frail body. Adrenaline started to pound through his veins as he tore himself between the Nazis' blows and his father, offering himself as a shield.
The small group of SS troups were under Sergent General Gersteins comand. The general himself off to the side chit chatting between a . who was also under his command. The SS troups were orderd to round and load up the jews, nothing more nothing less. But it seems even thoese comands were too much for the teenage soldiers. Even from his spot, Kurt could hear the cries of pain from the boy and his father as the cried out from the ground where they were being strikin with batons.
Other jews preloaded in trucks biting their tounges to save their own skins. Snarling at the terrible form of beating Kurt turned quickly, his jacket sitting on his shoulders alone, badges and medals making the jacket even more dashing. His red eyes glowing under the black brim of his hat. His leather knee high boots clashign agisnt the littlerd stone road.
"Halt. What is the meaning of this?"
He demanded his voice ringing out smooth yet horrible all at once, the known 'homosexuals' that were rounded up in the same truch trembling in lust for the general. He was tall and his hair was the shade of a reapers cloak, his red unseen eyes striking throught any heart. He was the perfect vision of a promised savior.
His eyes now looking down on the seeming midget soldeirs who stumbled over themselves. 'SIR! We we're showing these scum just how low to the dirt they are!' The tallest of the teenagers called, proudly. But just as the words left his mouth the gloved hand came fast across the boys face. Kurts head tilting back to look down apon the boy.
"Take a walk boy, come back to me when you have respect for the dirt god has grased to place under our feet."
He spoke emotionly as the boy nodded and stumbled away, the others backing down heads low. Glancing at the bloody boy and his father Kurt scoffed a sneer, clearly visable to the soldiers, which put him right back in their hearts as favorite comander. "Names?" He asled clamly and smoothly again to the boy.
Slowly he stood back up on his feet, helping his father to his and holding him up by his arms. He was careful to keep his eyes down to the ground, and restraining himself from wincing at the pain that he felt over his body.
"Efren Paltel. And this is my father, Orric Paltel."
He bit his bottom lip slightly, pulling it unto his lips, a bad habbit of his when he was nervous or worried. His clothes, once fine articles, were now torn at the ends and dirt smeared, like his hair and skin. His face, pale and smooth, was darkened and dulled by the dirt smeared into his pores. He had a cut now over his eyebrow where he'd been beaten serverly hard, and his hair, a dirty blonde shade, looked dusty and unkept now.
He wasn't the most dashing, but he was charming and adorable to some of the girls that had lived nearby. His eyes were even more so dulled now then before, thanks to the things he'd seen in the past days.
Kurts nose then twiched at the smell, being a german owned bakery was less then a block away. Reajusting his stance once they stood the black locked man placed a hand on his hip, the other holding the handle of his blade. He still stood taller over the boy, his father was closer to Kurts height but from the beating now hunched over slightly. His head bobbed a bit, nodding to the short uniformed lt. he was speaking to prior, who now started flipping throught papers on his clipboard.
' sir, his wife was already detained. Efren Paltel, under 20 sir.' The man stutterd, after he was done reading off the short infor and almost life story of Efrens fathers life and practice. Turning back towards the jews he smiled softly, flashing his ultra white teeth.
"My apoligizes , But I'm affraid you'll still have to listen to us for now. I asure you your wife will be fine, and returned to your side once your reregestired at your new home."
He coed softly letting his hands guide towards the truck, the other still on his blade. His red eyes now seen and filled with hallowness and blank emotions.
Efren swalled the lump in his throat and nodded as his father did.
"Thank you sir."
He mumbled in a hurt tone, his body aching worse then his son's. Efren helped his father over to the truck, carefully helping him climb in before following behind. As he climbed in Efren cast a glance over his shoulder, daring to take a look of the officer who helped them, just to remember his face.
He didn't understand why he had the impulse, and thought it very foolish, but he felt he just had to see his face. He didn't see any harm in it, and as his blue hues saw the firy red of the soldier's, they went wide in awe.
Watching the boy load his father and himself Kurt closed his eyes breifly, thinking of his own father, and how he wished to even get a chance to help him again. Shaking his mind clear, he gave the truck load of jews a false smile, freehand held to the side towards a large bulky man in a butchers dressing.
"This man here, wil be kind enough to drive you all to your new homes."
And with the false smile and nod the man moved towards the front of the truck, as the hatch was lifted and the curtins drawn. But before they closed Kurt looked right at the boyys face, eyes slightly going wide and focusing attetion, captivated by the boys eyes. But as he went to speak the truck roared to life and the curtins closed completly.
He froze, his body numb from the moment their eyes met. He was still gapping at the now closed curtains as the truck began to move, and it took the shaking of his father to wake him from it. "Son?"
He asked, his voice weak from the beatings. Efren turned to him and smiled some, shaking his head and taking his father's hand in his.
"I'm fine father."
The man gave his son a worried look but let it go, leaning back against the truck's uncomfortable support and closing his eyes. Efren watched as his father managed to slip into a shallow sleep. All around him sons and fathers were sitting either alone or with their kin, and all around him people remained quite other then hushed whispers of enccouragement to the one's that showed clear signs of fear. Again Efren gulped the lump in his throat.
He tried to lean back and rest against his father, hoping to drift away from this nightmare, if only for alittle while. Soon they'd arrive at the camp site, and Efren found himself being shoved into a line with his father and being marched into the camp's first area house. In there they were stripped of their clothing and given what look liked striped pajamas, theirs with a golden star of David sewed on.
He did as he was instructed and slipped on the clothes given to him, helping his father do the same when he encountered painful resistance. Then they were all marched off to what would be their bunks, tight fitted couters that smelled horrible and made Efren cringed as he entered.