Ok, just warning here that this isn't going to be for squeamish people. There will be character death and so on.

Fangrules: well, I've done another war fic but it's not as…intense? I guess as this. Did we succeed or just fall flat on our bums? Lol! Review and tell us! Ignore goldensunflowers attempt at ass-kissing she's sucking up bigtime! Lol!

Goldensunflowers: hellllo :) this is goldensunflowers (co-writer-OMG! ;P) who just wants to say that this FF is totally awesome partly-no, mainly because of her-and no, I am NOT ass-kissing, court- ;) oh, and egbert the orange duckie too. and maybe…..eugene the purple duckie…;) jk, jk, of course, Eugene! :)

Death. He found himself thinking about this topic more and more every day. He couldn't think of anything else. It hurt too much to remember what he had lost so he let it slip away until he couldn't remember the sound of laughter or the taste of something sweet. Every pleasant memory was wiped from his mind because it had become unbearable to recall them, they were not meant to be remembered in a place like this; his prison, his hell.

He didn't know how long he'd been there; he stopped counting after the first week because it seemed so futile. At first he'd tried to stay strong, to remember what was waiting for him outside the fences caging him in like an animal. He'd tried to stay strong when he'd rebelled and refused to bend to the orders he was given. As punishment he was hung with his arms tied behind his back until his shoulders popped out of their sockets and then forced to work amongst the thousands of other prisoners.

He'd tried to stay strong when they'd made him carry the corpses in the gas chambers to the crematorium where the smell of seared flesh and burned hair hung in the air. But slowly as he watched innocent people cruelly murdered, watched them wither away until they were begging for death, he realized that he couldn't stay strong.

With what little resistance he possessed crushed he let it consume him too; he'd given up all hope of escape, of some day being reunited with his family. He let them rip away what little pride he'd managed to keep since his arrival, he let them beat him to an inch of his life because now he was one of them; the poor souls begging for death that he had pitied when he first walked through the gates to hell.

He lay in the small bunk, barely enough room to slide in let alone move, and thought about dying alone in that massive camp surrounded by disease and death. He wouldn't be remembered, he was just another poor soul trapped with no chance of escape. And it was true. He was one of them. One of the lifeless. He thought how death would be a heavenly escape from these cramped quarters, the back breaking work and torture, the constant smell of burnt flesh and the cries from the innocent as they, one by one, were carried away to the gas chambers where they died a slow painful death, gasping and wheezing for fresh air that would never reach their lifeless lungs.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he listened to them now. The chambers never fell silent, the crematoriums never stopped burning. It was a nonstop cycle of death. He remembered some of the attempts to muffle the screaming; two soldiers had revved two motorcycles in hope it would block out the horrific sound but it was no use. Nothing could shield their ears from the wails of pain coming from the gas chambers. He didn't want to become one of them, he didn't. Yet he had no choice, as he was brought outside and whipped again, for not bringing having the strength to move all of the dead bodies crammed into the gas chambers to the crematorium. He couldn't stand the looks and cries from the other prisoners as they held back sobs for the cruelly murdered people; for themselves and their approaching fate as they were herded in.

He couldn't stand the pain of the fresh gaping wounds on his shredded bloody back. And yet, he was one of them, no matter what he did; and he joined the ranks of the damned willingly, giving up what was left of his pride and dignity, and all of them, a great mass of tortured prisoners, all craving for the sweet taste of death that would soon be their escape.

For the first time since he had arrived a single salty tear slipped out of the corner of his eye, sliding down his cheek marking a path through the dirt and dust and for the first time, he cried.

… *Goldensunflowers and Fangrules peek up from behind pile of fortified pillows* and? What did you think? This is a first for both of us so please tell us your thoughts! it's short but this is just the Prologue.

Fangrules - The plot is all thanks to Kali98 who trusts us enough to write this! Lol! I think she made a big mistake but anyway! Haha!

SO! We will update if we get a good resonse, Fangrules has no patience for unwanted stories ;-) besides we have confidence in this one!

Reviews:

Less than 10=very unhappy co-authors and delete it

10-15= 2 weeks

15-20= ASAP

REVIEWS=LUV

LUV=INSPIRATION

INSPIRATION=UPDATES

Fangrules+Goldensunflowers