This idea just sort of came to me in the middle of History today. It's set during World War 2, so it's a bit of a major jump in the timeline. Sorry about that, but I wanted to get it written before I forgot it.
Jack was flying somewhere over Poland when he saw it. He probably wouldn't have noticed it if it hadn't been for the smoke.
He had been coming back from Russia, where he had been making a particularly fierce winter. He was aware there was a war going on; he often saw troops in battlefields below and it wasn't very safe for him to fly over England anymore, what with all the dogfights in the sky over there. He didn't know enough about who was fighting and why to choose a side, and so he usually didn't aid in any way. Recently though, there had been a long siege against Leningrad over in Russia. Jack rather liked Leningrad, and he didn't take kindly to watching the people trapped inside deteriorate and often die of starvation because of the invaders cutting off supplies. The soldiers could try and take the city, but he certainly wasn't going to make it easy for them. They were calling it the worst Russian winter in decades, and though Jack felt a little bad about making the invading men suffer, he consoled himself by saying that they shouldn't have invaded in the first place.
So now he was heading back towards America, to his lake in Burgess. But something about that smoke made him pause and look closer. The smoke seemed to be coming, thick and fast, from a several chimneys on a single building. This building, as well as many other low bunkers, was in a huge area that was surrounded by barbed wire. He could see people down there, many hundreds of people. Curious, he swooped down to the strange place even as the wind begged him to leave. It didn't like this place, and Jack wanted to know why.
He landed outside a main gate with an arch where there were several cattle trucks driving in. He saw the people inside, cold and frightened looking, and looked up to read the words on the arch.
ARBEIT MACHT FREI, they said. Jack recognized them as German, and he knew what they meant. Work Makes You Free.
Jack cautiously ventured inside just as the gate swung shut, his grip tight on his staff. Almost subconsciously he put up the hood on his hoodie. He looked around him at the people and was shocked by what he saw. They were all so thin, skeletal almost. Their faces were pale and gaunt. Their hair was messily shaved close to their heads, and they wore striped uniforms that did not fit.
But what bothered him most was not any of these, nor was it the numbers tattooed on their arms, or even the fact that there were men, women, and children among the crowd. No, what really hit Jack hard were their eyes. They were deadened and hopeless and terrified and wearily sad. Even the children looked this way, and something told Jack it would take a lot more than a magic snowflake to bring the sparkle back into their eyes. They could not see him, and he was used to that, but he somehow knew that if the Guardians were here they would not be seen either.
The Guardians, Jack thought angrily. Where were they? Wasn't it their job to protect the children? The fear in the air was so poignant even Jack could taste it, so that meant that Pitch must be here too. It was a mystery to him why the high and mighty Guardians had not already swooped in and intervened, why these children were not safe at home in their beds.
If he had seen such horrors just in the entrance to this nightmarish place, then he did not want to know what lay farther within, what that morbid black smoke really was, whether or not those shapes dangling from rope along the barbed wire fence were what he thought they were. He wavered in place, torn. He wanted to flee, and yet he so desperately wanted to help, even though he knew the only thing he could do was make them more cold and miserable.
So he compromised. He decided to wait until nightfall for the golden strands of dreamsand that were sure to come. He would follow them to their source and alert the Sandman of what exactly was happening here. He could go to the North Pole, of course, but after a couple centuries of trying to break in he doubted the yetis would let him see the big man even if he tried to explain the reason.
Judging by the sun's position, he would not have to wait long. He settled atop the entrance gate and kept his gaze on the sun, doing his best not to think too much about the sharp popping noises and screams that were coming from within the horrible place. Any minute now, he thought. Please, Sandman.
Soon the sun sank below the horizon and many of the people retreated to the bunkers. Jack knew that that was where they went to sleep, that streams of gold would soon color this bleak night sky. He waited and waited, but it was for naught. Nothing came; there was only the shifting shadows surrounding the places where the people slept. Apparently this place was too godforsaken even for dreams. There were only nightmares to be found here.
Come, the wind whispered to him as he stared in disbelief at the sky, trying to will the dreamsand into existence. There is nothing you can do here. It tugged at him, blowing off his hood and ruffling his snow white hair. Reluctantly, Jack rose into the air, sparing one last glance at the place of death and despair, and let the wind carry him away. He felt like a coward and a failure. He could not stop a few tears from rolling down his cheeks, and he knew that even if he truly did live forever he would never forget what he had seen.
I'm not an expert on WW2 or Auschwitz or the Holocaust, so please excuse any mistakes in the timing of the events or descriptions.
