"The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything" –Albert Einstein
"Small minds can't understand big spirits. To be great, you have to be willing to be mocked, hated, and misunderstood. Stay strong."-Unknown
June 17th 1937, Waffenfabrik Der Riese, mid-day.
After a few 'incidents' with my colleagues, I had realized that I might be one of the few people aware that the
National Socialist administration was behind most of our funding.
made sure let me know this was a matter of complete secrecy after encountering my discussion with ,
it seemed strange to me that we would have American scientists working for us if we were working for the Führer,
after enquiring him about it, I received a confused look.
"What do you mean, ma'am? What do we have to do with the Nazi's?"
I was about to open my mouth to speak when clamped a hand on my shoulder, painfully dragging me away.
"Don't Mind her, Stan, it's probably a misunderstanding, she isn't too good on English, you see."
Was his quick excuse, he didn't even give the doctor any time to reply for we left the lab before he could compose a sentence.
After being dragged away to a private area, the Doctor then furiously confronted me about the subject.
"Vhat in zhe hell do you think you are doing!" he spat in my face, earning him a glare from me, even if he was my superior,
I highly disliked his tone.
"Excuse me, herr? I don't believe I've done anyzhing wrong!
I vas just asking zhe American doctor why he vas working for Germany, it makes no sense."
I replied in a gentler tone than his screaming oscillation.
The doctor strolled around in a quick circle in front of me, his frustration seemingly obvious.
"Nein! You fool!" the doctor yelled, flailing his arms about to cause a dramatic effect.
"I thought you vould understand when I performed zhat ridiculous welcoming speech, Imelda!
Did you even read zhe field ops manual I handed to you!" he enquired, stopping in his rambling to stand in front of me once more, eyes locked on mine.
I was silent.
The Field Ops Manual consisted of an introduction and fifteen chapters,
the introduction was a tedious two pages from front to back,
the first paragraph introduced and what Group 935's objectives and criteria were essentially about.
Indeed I did not read all of it, and I did not bother looking at the chapters either.
"I…." that's all I could muster before Dr. Maxis knew the answer to his own question,
he looked at me with harsh disappointment, and then he rubbed the bridge of his nose,
a habit he liked to display when he was trying to control his emotions.
"Imelda…I gave you and every employee that dammed book for a reason!
I remember saying, and correct me if I am wrong, that you were to treat it as if it was your bible!"
He uttered, each word emphasized with his breaking patience.
I was a little afraid that he was going to fire me, so I decided to suck up my pride and replied
"I am sorry, doctor, I promise I will read it today!
But what does that have anything to do with the fact that we are working for the na-"
I was cut off by a hand, the feeling of his wedding ring cold on my upper lip, I stared at him in surprise as he hushed me.
"Don't mention that word, don't you get it, Imelda?
It is a secret! We have scientists working for us all over the world,
it is essential to keep the nature of our benefactors in secret if we are to avoid any conflicts!"
He explained, looking me in the eye, desperately wanting me to understand this concept,
it dawned on me pretty quickly, but I was still rather unsure about something.
"I don't understand, when I arrived I was given an S.S. Uniform, und Dr. Richtofen wears his all the time!
Und we are not the only ones that wear this attire; it is only obvious tha-"
I was interrupted once more, the doctor was quickly growing impatient by the minute.
"Group 935 consists of many ethnic varieties,
just because zhere are a few Nazi's in zhe formula does not mean zhe entire organization supports their ideologies.
Our motto is to improve zhe human condition through advanced sciences und technology!
It is clear to all zhat work here zhat there are cultural differences, und ve are all villing to put zhat aside in order to focus on our work!"
he paused to take in a breath of air, his passion for his labor burning with such intensity. I was struck by this.
"Do you now understand, Imelda?"
In fact I did not, if group 935 was only a research organization neutral in the politics of the nations,
then why is it that one single nation was funding our research?
It made no sense, and I suspected something devious.
Also, I was no Nazi, I only wore the uniform because it was given to me,
and now I realize that everyone in the facility thought of me as a member of the S.S.
I could have been free from this label if I would have known this from the start!
"Yes, , I understand." I calmly replied, giving him an affirmative smile,
though I knew I didn't look too sympathetic, in fact, there was worry and questions written on my face,
but both of us wanted to be over with this conversation, and so with a light pat on the shoulder, the doctor left to attend to his business,
and I went straight to my room to read the stupid field ops manual.
September 13th 1945, Wittenau Sanitorium, Berlin, Germany.
"Vhat a fool, I forgot to restrain her." the German doctor chuckled as he predicted the violence the small female would try to expose him to once she awakened, he wiped the foreign blood off of his hand onto his pants, carefully moving from his position from on top of the lifeless female.
His glove had fallen idle on her neck, while the syringe he had been holding lay on the tray next to the medical chair.
The doctor would never admit how content it made him to see her again,
in all this time he was always curious as to how she had been doing after she had been transferred to the asylum.
A few times, he even thought of visiting her, with the excuse that he wanted to check up on the "patients" they would use for further experiments.
He heard she had been promoted to assistant to the Warden, a sadistic woman in her forties,
a fat pig that would yell at her inferiors and drench them in spit.
If a subordinate did not obey her commands, the Warden was known for injecting paint thinner into their blood stream while they slept.
A cruel woman she was, but he never doubted for one second that Imelda wouldn't be able to handle herself; she was the one he has chosen, after all.
I wonder what has happened to her, anyway.
He thought as brief recollections of the Warden's fat face came to mind.
Richtofen was pensive as he instinctively performed tasks, injecting her with the healing serum containing small amounts of element 115 and several highly concentrated nutrients and vitamins, it was a wonder how this substance had been created,
it made things much easier in desperate situations when people were dying,
it endorsed incredibly fast healing and the restoration of chemicals the body needs to be healthy.
eyed the bullet he had extracted curiously, though it was slightly smashed due to the impact with flesh,
it was still recognizable that the bullet was short and wider than most pistol bullets, being 9.22 mm in diameter,
it was obvious it belonged to the unique Russian Makarov Pistol he had come across in recent times.
Who had shot the bullet, was the unanswered question that he wanted to know.
Lately the former surgeon had become much more knowledgeable in weaponry.
Having crossed paths with many different firearms, he could not help but to dissect them like he would a patient.
Disassembling them and studying each of their unique structures in between waves of zombies,
it was a pleasant new hobby of his for the little free time he had.
Speaking of firearms, he looked back at the comatose woman on the medical chair; he had yet to remove the other bullet from her thigh.
An Evil snicker crept in on the doctor as he thought of how he would be able to get to the wound with the confines of her pants standing in his way.
Taking out his bowie knife from the holster on his hip, he began to cut at the pant leg from the bottom to the top, rewarding him with the exposure of dirtied skin, he grinned excitedly as his fingers caressed her calf muscle.
It had been long, much too long since he had had the pleasure of looking at a female body, even if she was drenched in filth.
Scars and bruises and a Uroboros tattoo hard to discern in between all the dirt and dried blood on her ankle made him wonder what ventures she had gone through before he had found her bleeding to death on the floor, in the West Wing of the asylum.
The doctor realized he himself was not very clean.
It might be that reaching for the bullet with his hand was not such a good idea.
Richtofen cursed under his breath in German, feeling like a complete idiot, wondering how in all the years of his experience he would forget such an important fact.
Desperately, the Surgeon ran toward the cabinets standing back against the wall to his left,
opening each drawer with supplies still intact, finding rubbing alcohol in the lower right cabinet,
and grabbing a few clean towels on the way, he fumbled with the cap as he walked back to the girl.
As soon as he had the bottle opened, he poured a quarter of its contents onto the first wound, and another quarter into the second.
If it wasn't that Imelda was unconscious, she would probably be screaming in pain,
he knew how excruciating it was to pour pure alcohol onto a wound,
but it must be done in order to sterilize her wounds to prevent any infection.
The doctor poured more alcohol onto his own hands, wincing as a few cuts on his fingers stung in protest to the harsh substance disinfecting the tissue; he then grabbed a towel and wiped all the dirt and grime from his hands in haste.
Time was of essence if he was to get out the bullet from the wound before her body healed over, due to the substance he had injected in her blood stream to make her regenerate quickly.
Well im not really happy with this chapter, so if you dont like it either, let me know, i'll rewrite it or something.
Please review! I really really appreciate the reviews! Thats, like, half the reason why i keep writing!
Thank you Guevara, and Kimishuler for the reviews! You guys get a smiley face :)
