Warning: AU –Second World War
M-Rated!Contains coarse language, violent imaginary related to the context of war, and sex.
I do not own South Park. I do not own anything. I wish I was that f* genius!
Herr Cartman panted heavily while he climbed a small hill in the camp's female section to find the bodies' fetcher.
Butters, you're going to pay for this! Making me walk an eternity to find a stupid Jew that can play music. He better be good at it or I'm really screwed up. And so will you Butters, so will you. He cursed in his mind.
He finally reached the top but only saw the women working in the snow. He asked a sentinel for the bodies' fetcher whereabouts and soon he was running down the other side of the hill. He hated all this exercise, his lungs seemed to want to give away and his body felt heavier by each step. Usually he didn't walk this much. Actually, he rarely came to these parts of the camp, being too far located for his liking from his home office.
After a short while, he finally spotted the cursed Jew, who stood at the foot of the hill. Herr Cartman halted when he noticed the teenager was bending over while he coughed convulsively, taking a few hasty steps away from the hand cart. The Nazi truly hoped the Jew wasn't sick, because he had very little time left. But then, the boy turned around, his hand covering his mouth and traced his steps back to the cart. The Nazi grinned maliciously when he saw the cause for the Jew's sickened behavior. Close to the cart laid a corpse in an advanced decomposing stage. And taking by the way Kyle was acting; the body was releasing an excruciating rotten smell.
For the past few weeks, Herr Cartman had too been searching for bodies, only with a different purpose than Kyle. He found them, stole them away and hid them in a secret place with enough warmth and dampness to decompose properly. Once he was satisfied with the rottenness of the bodies, he would bring them back to the camp, place them strategically in the Jew's route, but distanced from the work fields. This was his personal prank for the red haired Jew and wanted nobody else to know about this. The reason why he sneaked after the evening's fall, when all the Jew's had returned to the barracks and no soldiers were to be found in the fields. He acted in secrecy and moved unnoticed in the shadows like a coon.
He observed Kyle amused, forgetting momentarily the reason he had come all this way out. The Jew quickly recovered from his attack and started throwing snow on the corpse. He diligently spread the ice on the decomposed skin and then lifted the body to place it on the cart. Herr Cartman observed his actions with some awe, understanding the Jew was using the snow to camouflage the stench. Fucking genius. He thought while he listened the boy utter some loud and unkind curses.
"Fuck!…Sick dude!…Disgusting!" Kyle complained while he threw more snow on the corpse, until a reasonable white layer covered the body and apparently, the smell too. When Kyle picked up the cart and started walking away, unaware of the Nazi's presence, Herr Cartman was reminded of the reason he was there.
"Hey! Jew!" Herr Cartman shouted and Kyle froze. He slowly turned around, this one specific voice being the last one he wished to hear right now. It had been too good to be true not to see the fat Nazi for several days in a row. "Come here!" The SS ordered and Kyle obeyed, leaving the cart behind him and walking with his head down, his eyes fixed on the white snow. He stopped when he saw the dark boots in front of him. "Look what I've found." Herr Cartman said with an overly sweet singing voice.
Kyle slowly lifted his eyes and then saw the violin. The Nazi smirked satisfied. He needed not to ask if it belonged to the redhead, for his face told him everything. Kyle's eyes widened greatly when he saw the violin. They shone from blissfulness the moment he saw his most precious belonging unharmed. An unexplainable happiness invaded his heart. "You and I are so lucky I saved this violin from the flames." The Nazi proudly stated and Kyle, without thinking, lifted his head to look at him. He realized immediately what he had done and redirected his gaze back to the snow. Yet, it had been enough for the SS to see the surprise, joy and gratitude in the glint of those green eyes. It somehow disturbed the Nazi, for he was only used to see hatred in them. He cleared his throat. "Come with me now."
He ordered, turned around and started walking. After a few steps, he realized he wasn't being followed. Kyle stood on his spot paralyzed. "Don't worry about the cart, I'll have somebody do the rest of your work for today." Herr Cartman told and Kyle hesitantly followed him. The Jew had a thousand questions burning in his mind. Why did the fat Nazi have his violin? How did he find out he was its owner? Why did he have to leave his work behind? But he dared not to express his curiosity. "I'm having an important soiree with some friends tonight." Herr Cartman suddenly started talking, in a casual tone. He turned around to see if the boy was still walking behind him. He was and his were eyes glued on the snow. He smirked satisfied with his subservient behavior. "One of them plays the clarinet, but the fucker broke a finger today. Unfortunately I couldn't find any replacement. That's where you fit in." I must be fucking out of my mind. Completely mad! He bitterly thought. Suddenly, he turned around and Kyle almost crashed against his large belly. "How good are you?"
"I followed classes at the Bach Institute in Frankfurt and was one of the best. But I haven't played the violin for about four years." Kyle answered sincerely, still trying to process what the Nazi had just told him.
"Why did you stop?" Herr Cartman asked irritated, already worrying with this fact. That was a long time without any practice.
"I couldn't play. My family and I lived hidden during three and a half years." He bitterly said. Herr Cartman sighed, knowing it was a common thing. Many Jewish families chose to live hidden in some shithole like rats until they were discovered. They had to live in absolute silence, the smallest sound being enough to betray their presence.
"Then I hope a little practice will be enough for you to remember how to play the violin properly. Because if you somehow screw things up, if you in any possible way displease my guests, I promise you. It will be your and your miserable family's ruin." The Nazi threatened coldly, staring right into the deep green eyes. And for the first time, he actually read a hint of fear in them. Herr Cartman smirked. He had found the Jew's weakness.
…
Herr Cartman guided Kyle to a part of the camp he never had been to. Each step he took, brought him further away from the working fields and closer to the Nazi's condominium. This was the forbidden zone. Hitler's follower's territory. Suddenly, Kyle had an awful thought. What if this is a trap? What if Herr Cartman is simply going to end my life tonight? Or torture me! No, probably he's telling me the truth. He has, after all my violin. Right? With a bouncing heart, he walked obediently behind the large Nazi, because he had no other choice, and kept all his anxiety to himself.
They reached a large building. Herr Cartman unlocked the door and they entered. Kyle almost gasped, for he had already forgotten how the interior of a house looked like. He stared with some wonder and nostalgia at the clean creamy colored walls, warmed by the presence of dark wood and the golden artificial light. Only the hallway already indicated how richly decorated the house was, filled with valuable materials, furniture and paintings. Herr Cartman gave only a quick glance at the Jew that stood at his door step, his eyes clearly admiring the surroundings, and was impelled to draw a small smile.
"Alfred!" Herr Cartman yelled, and soon, a middle aged man dressed in a black suite came to join them. He furrowed his brow in confusion, when he saw the teenager in the striped uniform. "This Jew will be tonight's musician. I need him washed, dressed properly and them bring him to my office as soon as possible." He commanded and left Kyle with the butler. It was an awkward moment as both stared at each other, one perplexed and the other giving an uneasy smile.
"How may I address you?" Alfred finally broke the silence.
"Uh…My name is Kyle." The redhead answered uncertain.
"Kyle. Now that sounds much nicer than a number, doesn't it?" He kindly said and Kyle smiled spontaneously. "Come. Let's get you into the bath."
…
Kyle thought it was funny how it didn't bother him anymore to be naked in the presence of other men. After all, he was daily confronted with nudity in the common bathroom, not to mention the days of selection, when the Nazi's ordered all men to undress, run a track outside and examine their bodies. Also, Alfred had been nothing but kind to him, so the teenager felt completely at ease with him.
He learned the butler was an Austrian that came to Germany many years ago to work for rich families. His last employer was a third generation Jew, who unsurprisingly disappeared mysteriously, so he became unemployed. Alfred sough new work and came under the protection of the SS a few years ago. He was in Herr Cartman's service since short.
While Kyle scrubbed his legs and arms in the bathtub, Alfred cut a bit of his untamed curly hair, giving it a nice model. His fingernails and teeth received special attention, the butler made sure they looked clean and healthy. Kyle almost felt guilty for enjoying the warm water, the scent of aromatic soap and the small pleasure of feeling clean again. Alfred brought him a dark grey suite that fit him almost perfectly, for he had lost quite some weight. The butler guided him to a mirror and Kyle gasped.
The teenager had glanced earlier at the mirror, when he first entered the bathroom. It had been the first time he saw his own reflection since he got in Dachau camp. Kyle had not recognized the boy in the mirror. This face looked strange, old, sad and weary. His curly hair had gained a dull red color, was messy and too long. He had become really thin and his skin looked grey and dirty. The reason he now stared with incredibility at his reflection. Because now he saw the memory of himself. Alfred had done a great job with his hair. It still was longer and bigger than he was used to, but it was a model that actually looked good on him. His cleaned skin had regained its normal color, his eyes looked alive again. The suite actually made him fine-looking.
"I believe we have a young gentleman in the house." Alfred said with a proud tone. "Come, time to confront the beast." He teasingly said, referring to his employer and causing an amused chuckle from Kyle.
Soon the butler was knocking on a door and Kyle stood behind him, fidgeting nervously on the blazer's material. Suddenly he wished to be back in the working fields, back in his dirty old uniform. This evening was already bringing back old memories, when there was a time that being clean, dressed in nice clothes and playing the violin was something normal. Kyle was getting a glimpse of his life before the war, one he had long banned away from his memory in order to survive in the camp. And now it was all coming back again. He heard Herr Cartman's voice command to enter and Alfred opened the door. Kyle felt his anxiety increase when words were exchanged, while he entered the office alone.
There was a moment of silence, after the door was closed behind Kyle. Herr Cartman had waited expectantly for the Jew, hoping he would at least look decent. But never in his life had he expected this kind of transformation. Alfred had done more than an excellent job. He stood up and paced in the room, his eyes transfixed on this new young man. The clothing definitely gave him a new dimension. The hair, which irritated him the most, always untamed and bushy; shone now in a pleasant shade of auburn, the curls were silky and fell perfectly against the pale features.
"Look at me, Jew." Already used to this command, Kyle lifted his head.
For the first time, Kyle felt exposed and vulnerable. The fields were his territory, but now he was in unfamiliar grounds. He was in Herr Cartman's world and living the shadows of a life he once knew, long ago. Still, he refused to let it transpire. His heart raced faster as the SS-officer said and did nothing. He merely stood there, staring at him. Kyle tried to hide his discomfort by not glancing away from the brown eyes. He could not let the Nazi suspect any of his distress. Herr Cartman, on the other side, was hypnotized by the boy's looks. He had already deduced, the first time they met, that the redhead could be a handsome young man. But he never expected this. Now that Kyle was cleaned up, his creamy pearl skin was revealed. It was the first time the Nazi saw the many soft freckles paint his face. His bony features were softened by the silky skin and by the red curls that shaped his face kindly. Even his deep forest green eyes looked softer. This boy, unlikely the common Jew, was exquisite.
"You look presentable." Herr Cartman finally said, sounding slightly insecure about his words. He knew very well "presentable" was a too underestimated word choice. He turned to his desk and missed the sigh of relieve the Jew let out. "Now, I have here the music staves of the compositions I want you to play tonight." He said in a businesslike tone, while he handed them over to Kyle. He didn't miss the slight smile and glint in the Jew's eyes when he saw the papers. He then presented the violin and its bow. "So why don't you play a bit? See if you still have the hang of it." Herr Cartman watched the Jew hold the violin with slightly shaky hands. His fingers caressed the wood gently, while his smile became a loving one. He then placed the violin under his chin, closed his eyes and let the bow slid down the strings, producing a sound.
"Uhg, very much out of tune." Kyle said with his brow furrowed. The Nazi watched fascinated as the Jew engaged in a process of regulating the strings, testing the notes, more regulating, more testing, until he was satisfied with the sound the instrument produced. It was, beyond doubt, the professional behavior of a true musician. "Which one should I start with?"
The Nazi placed the pages with the music staves on the right order and awaited expectantly. Another two hours and the guests would be arriving. He hoped the time they had would be sufficient. The first tries were played hesitantly and clumsily. Herr Cartman thought he was going to despair and was about to scold, when he realized he was not the only one frustrated. Kyle sighed and looked upset for moments. He adjusted better the violin under his chin, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After a short pause, he let the music flow more gently, less hurriedly and the SS-officer breathed out of relieve. Kyle allowed himself to forget all his worries and the pressure the Nazi was putting him under. He let himself drown in the music, only opening his eyes to glance briefly to the papers. While he played, he forgot the world around him. He forgot the misery in the fields, the days of hunger and cold, the bleak faces of the dead. He forgot with who he was, where he was and his task for the evening. For now, he let himself be completely enveloped by the melodic sound. All his thoughts faded away with the music.
When he played the last composition's note, he opened his eyes and looked at Herr Cartman expectant. The Nazi had a strange expression in his face, a mixture of shock and music had been played so beautifully, so gently and yet so powerfully. It had touched his cold heart. Herr Carman, sensing the inquisitive look on the Jew's face, quickly regained his composure, straightening his back and lifting his chin a bit, to transmit a feeling of authority.
"Sounds good." He cleared his throat, for his voice had come out a bit shaky. "Do proceed."
Herr Cartman could had sworn that the Jew's eyes had smiled at his words, while his face remained impassive. But he quickly shook the thought away. Soon, Herr Cartman too closed his eyes and surrendered to the sound of the music, letting it soothe all his troubles away. Jew and Nazi remained together in the office, in a world where no words were needed, where no races, hierarchies and wars existed. Where feelings like hatred, pain and sadness were banned. They remained in this idyllic world made of only melodious sounds until Alfred knocked on the door announcing the guests had arrived.
A/N
Alfred, the butler, is a totally fictional character, invented by me. His presence and secondary role in this story is to help consolidate better the plotline. I borrowed the name Alfred from the Batman movies.