Elise was an orphan. It took weeks of conversation on the slate to build up enough trust for her to reveal this, but because they had the same chore schedule, she came almost like a daughter to Hanschen and Ernst. She liked to draw on the slate, often sketching portraits of the people who passed through the house. Some said she was nearly as good as Ernst. Neither of the boys noticed when she gradually slunk into their hearts and became more than the little girl with brown braids and no voice until the night that changed their destinies.
The smell was the first thing to hit Hanschen. Thick, black smoke had wafted from an unknown location downstairs, the stench quickly filling the room. It took him only a moment to flash out of bed and shake Ernst awake while hurridley pulling on trousers. "Hansi, wha-what's going on?"
"Fire, get moving!" he barked, the smoke making his voice harsh. Ernst didn't have to be told twice, throwing the sheets to the ground and snatching his Bible from the bedstand. "Damn..." he heard Hanschen choke out as he singed his fingertips on the doorhandle, "We can't get out through the door, get to the window!" They struggled for a few, precious seconds with the glass before Hanschen lost patience and slammed his forearm against it twice, splintering the pane and creating a wide enough hole for them to crawl through.
They slid hand in hand off the roof in time to see Melchior lead a tearful Ilse out the front door. Flames jumped up the side of the building, and Ilse let out a heart-wrenching cry as the staircase collapsed, turning her head to sob into Melchior's chest. Ernst was the first one with clear enough lungs to ask the question on everyone's mind. "Is everybody alright?"
Melchior looked up with a somber expression in his eyes. "No. Most of us have burns, Hanschen, I can tell you're bleeding, and Elise-the mute girl-was still inside when the stairs collapsed." The words sunk in quickly, sending both boys' minds reeling. Elise-shy, little Elise who had just begun to trust them-was gone. Hanschen wrapped his uninjured arm around Ernst's shoulders, kissing his forehead and lying through his teeth about how everything was going to be fine. The moment enveloped them, carrying them away from the disaster until the only reality was Hanschen's solid embrace and Ernst's dark, tear-filled eyes. There was almost a peace to it-
Until Ilse let out another scream, this time a bloodcurdling, pulse-freezing shriek that shattered the night like a window. It was the only warning any of them had before rough hands sprung out of nowhere, covering their mouths and ignoring the kicks to the shins they recieved. Hanschen panicked, grasping blindly for any part of Ernst. Their fingers interlocked for a brief instant before they were ripped apart again and thrown roughly into a carriage.
"I found the fags!" a rough voice called above them.
"Nicely done Clark." the outline of a slender man entered the carriage with them. "I suppose you're not worthless after all." he forced Hanschen's face roughly upwards. "What's your name, pretty boy?" he was met with a mouthfull of ash and spit to the eye from the blonde boy. "Let's try this again," he muttered in a dangerously low voice before striking him across the face. "What's your name?" when he still received no answer, he made a slight motion to his comrade. A knife was at Ernst's throat before Hanschen could process what was happening. "I don't give a shit what happens to you two, pretty boy." the man hissed, "Now either you cooperate or I personally make sure your boyfriend is never heard from again."
There was a silence, broken by Ernst's whimpers before anyone spoke. "Hanschen Rilow." he muttered finally, injecting the words with as much venom as he could. "And I swear to god if you hurt him-" he was silenced with a blow that made the bones in his neck pop.
The Man smirked and turned to the seat next to him. "And how about you, Bambi?"
"Ernst Robel." he barely whispered, face now stained with tear tracks. The blade was finally lifted from his skin and he let out a shuddering breath. "Please...we've done nothing to you. There's no reason for this."
Hanschen didn't hear the sneering reply over the blood pounding in his ears. His fingers tensed against the rope that had been tied around his wrists as the carriage lurched into motion and his stomach clenched as he realized there wasn't a way out at this point. Ernst watched as his head dropped to his chest and began to whisper a prayer.
Not my best writing, I know, but I hope you didn't hate it!