A/N: It's been a week since the first chapter (really eight days but who's counting?) and I am so excited about the feedback for this story. My inbox was filled with emails for alerts, reviews, and even favorite story! Unless a story makes a major impression on me, I don't usually favorite it after the first chapter. I'm so happy that many of you feel that way about this story. I hope I can live up to your standards. :)
Chapter 2: Prison
Soldiers escorted him down the hall, boots clanking on concrete. Hands gripped his arms fiercely as they led his docile body deeper into hell. He is sure that is where he is. No human soul would have even thought to do that to his mother. His mother...
A tear fell down his cheek. One of the guards noticed. The next thing he felt was his cheek smarting. He tried to cradle the injury in his hand, but another blow to his arm stopped him. He winced, lowering his head to hide his reaction.
I cannot show weakness, he thought.
Strong arms tugged on his feeble ones as he fell behind. He grunted at the wrenching pain in his shoulders, but that is all he allowed to escape. After that, he kept pace with the demons. He did not know where they were taking him. They dragged him on and on, tugging relentlessly on his arms. He began to realize that he was tiring. He wouldn't be able to keep up to their quick pace much longer.
Finally, they stopped. He looked up, watching as one of them released him. He almost sighed as the pressure lifted from his bones. He almost groaned as his right arm was pulverized.
The demon that left him was busying himself with some kind of metal gate. Maybe at another time he would have been slightly interested in the process, but now he simply did not care. He had heavier thoughts weighing on his mind.
He glanced down the long hallway behind him. For a moment, he thought of escape. If he could find that place hidden in his brain, the place that controls his power, just for a minute. He would use it. Shape the metal in the endless windows he had passed.
But the moment was gone. The gate stood open. His body was thrown through it.
At first he thought they were tossing him out into the rain. He expected to be kneeling in mud, but instead his knees cracked on cold concrete. Sucking in a breath, he reached out. His hand met a rough surface, tearing at his palm as he dragged his fingers along it. A wall, he realized.
He turned. The demons had closed the gate, locking him between the bars and the rough wall. Slowly, he stood, staring after them as they walked away. It wasn't until he wrapped his fingers around the metal bars that he realized where they have stashed him.
In a cell.
– – –
"No! Please, leave her. Take me! Take me," she begged.
The pair of Nazi guards studied her. Small, young and starving, kneeling in stinking mud. The shorter guard shrugged, looking to his taller counterpart.
Swallowing, she looked to the woman beside her. A heavy arm draped over her shoulders, hard worn eyes glaring at her.
"Menah," the elder woman hissed, "I won't let them hurt you."
She blinked back tears. Waves of hurt and fear rolled off the woman, slamming into the girl's chest with tremendous force.
"I-I'm sorry, Nira," she choked out, her throat tightening.
After everything her aunt had done to keep her alive and safe and happy, the last thing she deserved was to be taken to the barracks. Where she would be seen as nothing more than a toy, an old rag doll no one cares for.
If anyone, she would go. The bright innocent niece who felt another's emotions as if they were her own. Who carried everyone's pain and suffering. Who knew how a person thought from just a glance. Who could sense their strengths, weaknesses, each and every reaction they've ever had in life. She could guess, very accurately, what they wanted and needed to survive.
The people from her village thought her deep empathy would shape her into an excellent wife. Nira always told them that her niece was smarter than that. She wouldn't throw her intelligence away for a man. She was going to be a nurse, a scientist, an author. She had always felt honored by her aunt's faith in her. She supported her rain or shine. Now it was time to repay her.
The scrutiny of the men was building. She knew they'd take her offer. These two preferred younger, prettier girls, but any woman would suit their needs. She had overheard a few of the guards talking while she worked in the fields. One of the women in their stocks had decided to retaliate, punching the man she was with in the nose. As punishment, he shot her through the heart. Now they were scouring for a replacement. The younger, the better. And the fact that she was offering herself to them only sweetened the deal.
Finally, the taller guard grunted an order to stand. They obeyed.
"You," he pushed Nira roughly, forcing her to stumble backward, "Get back to work. You," he pulled the younger of the two toward him, "Come with me."
She met Nira's gaze one last time, a tear slipping down her cheek. She felt her aunt's pain, fright and determination. Nira didn't want this for her, but she had made up her mind. She hoped her aunt understood her silent apology.
"Live on!" She yelled as they took her niece away.
Relief flooded through her. She knew and she was still supporting her. More tears fell.
"Live on," the bright girl whispered.
– – –
He sat and stared. He was alone. Only him and the metal bars sealing him in his cell.
His hands shook furiously, sweat beading on his brow. He forced his brain to cooperate. To bend the metal, to shape it. But it disobeyed, always disobeyed.
The bars did not move. He was still helpless and caged, locked away like an animal.
Exhausted, he curled into a ball on the cold floor. He buried his face into the fabric of his trousers, crushing his eyes on his kneecaps. A few silent tears escaped from his eyes. He quickly wiped them away, furious with himself for the outburst. Exposing himself would only bring more pain. No one else would die because of his failure. He would not mention his father or Peter or Rosanna or anyone. The only person he would allow them to hurt was himself.
He listened to the patient echo of marching footsteps and closed his eyes. He focused on his breathing, taking deep, slow breaths.
Inhale.
He tried to forget this day. Everything.
Exhale.
He tried to forget his home burning. His life falling away from him.
Inhale.
He tried to forget the crowd, herded like cattle through the gates. The pain as they cut the number into his arm.
Exhale.
He tried to forget his mother, yanked from him. The anger as the fence warped to his will.
Inhale.
He tried to forget the doctor.
The coin.
The gun.
The bullet that killed his mother.
Exhale.
Eventually, he descended peacefully into a warm, white fog.
– – –
She sat. Alone. Staring into space.
There were other women in the room with her, at least twenty, all avoiding each other. The walls were bare, a drab gray. No windows. A small lamp sat in a corner, the only source of light. Until the door opened and a woman was selected.
The first time the light flooded into the darkness, she thought it was heaven come down to save her. After countless time spent in semi-darkness, she was starved for light. She was the only one to move toward it. But the guard didn't choose her. Another woman, in her mid-thirties, was dragged out, kicking and screaming. She settled back into her corner.
The next time light filled the chamber, she noticed every other woman shirked away from it. She didn't understand until the woman was deposited inside. She huddled in a corner, crying quietly. She was the loudest in the room.
Time didn't exist in the darkness. She counted days by meals, assuming they were fed once every day. It wasn't a substantial meal. Just scraps from the kitchen. Just enough to live on. During the times darkness reigned, she'd explore the room bit by bit. She found old, rotting rice and beans on the shelves and assumed that this room was an old food store. Well, at least the purpose of the room hadn't changed. It was now meant to satisfy a different hunger.
Seven meals had passed when the light chose her. She had been asleep, her arms pillowed underneath her head, dreaming of home. A sharp kick to the gut woke her. She grunted in pain, looking up for her attacker.
She froze. Standing above her was a familiar face. He was one of the guards that had brought her here. The taller partner.
"Get up," he growled, yanking her to her feet by the arm.
She yelped in pain, cradling her shoulder with her free hand. His grip solidified on her arm. Nineteen faces turned to the shadows as she was led toward the light.