Disclaimer: Halo and the Wolfenstein series DO NOT belong to me. They're owned by their respective owners and the only thing to my name is possible OC's and this story.
Author's note:
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Anyway, enjoy.
"Internal monologue"
"Regular speech"
"Foreign language translated"
... (Scene break and switch to another scene)
- (Scene break, but revolves back to the same scene - or character - if that makes sense)
"Damn Nazi machine..." What used be to be a massive coffee dispenser sparked twice before ceasing. The American cleaned the outside of a overfilled cup of coffee with a spar napkin and threw it in a trash bin. He took a sip to bring it down to a more manageable level. The fancy train car bouncing lightly as it continuously rolled over the rails. The dull amber lights perched between the red draped windows only gave minimal visibility. Only lighting up the tables and booths against the wall, the bar on the other side closed.
Placing both cups of coffee on the tray, the American prepared the rest of the essentials.
"Fuck me..." Too familiar thuds reverberated across the train. The serene horizon of the coffee breaking, rings speeding from the center to the edge. The doors in front of him slid opened revealing another glowing eye attached to a pure black version of the bots. That didn't stand out compared the woman in a black uniform, red band on her left arm proudly displaying the swastika, walking out the doorway. He straightened his eyes and focused as if looking through her.
"Okay, play it cool, Blazkowicz" He forcibly relaxed his posture. A man in an unknown uniform followed her. Both only glanced and held their nonchalant stares for a second before passing him and sitting at a table.
"You're just another Nazi jerk went for coffee in the middle of the night." An armed guard following his charges maintained his glare on the American till he passed, frown etched into his face. The guard bot passing after and taking its place at the corner of the bar and wall, eye always present on its protectees. Another guard with a similar expression behind the bot stayed behind and blocked the door. Blazkowicz walked away from the broken machine, tray in hand. The first guard is now by the side of the other door, where Anya was. He walked past the now lit table and bar coming to meet the rob-
"You can put the coffee on the table." The officer 'suggested'. The guard shifted, now blocking the doorway with an even harder glare. The bot leaned around the bar's corner to peer at him, as if demanding him to deny her authority. He turned back around to the table and its occupants came to view. On the other side of her back, the officer was wiping an unloaded golden pistol from the 1940's with a cloth and the man was reading a book. Golden hair crowned their heads as he took a few steps closer, the American placing the tray on the end.
"Wait a minute." Her gloved hand held a firm grip on his arm.
"Let me look at you." She admired his face with a critical blue eye. The man beside her, stopping his reading to peer at Blazkowicz, similar blue eyes.
"Yes..." The Older Lady, now that he had time to look at her, gave a pleased hum.
"Very nice Aryan features. Don't you think so, Bubi?" She turned back to... Bubi? Bubi was a younger man. Wonder what'd they think of this Aryan having Jewish mother.
"Yes. I like his eyes." He had long hair combed down above his shoulders, a thin mustache growing. Not a regulation cut, posture slack and slumped. Unlike the female Aryan. Undisciplined. Not a soldier. A scientist?
"Sit down, please." The women became even more cheerful. Her hand released him and he sat across from her. He didn't like this...
"Forgive my manners." The woman picked her pistol again in her right hand and the cloth in her left, arms slightly stretched outwards as if it really excused her. Bubi placed the book onto the table and grabbed a box of cigarettes.
"I am Obersturmbannführer Engel."
"She's a fuckin' Lieutenant Colonel." The high value target looked back at Bubi. A smile etched on her face.
"And this is my lovely... companion. Aren't you, Bubi?" Said 'lovely companion' pulled a cigarette out and met her eyes. He leaned over to her as if to whisper something.
"What is this, my love?" No way... Is Bubi her boy toy? The couple only chuckled.
"I have a test I would like to try on you." Engel waved the barrel of the gun into little circles to emphasize.
"It's designed to determine if there are traces of impure blood running through a person's veins." Her eyes became harder, scrutinizing him. She gave a hmph before continuing. Her voice friendlier than before.
"Now, I am sure you will pass this test with flying colors, but if you don't..." She pointed the golden barrel between Blazkowicz's eyes. An impassive mask for a face.
"I will shoot you. Do you understand?" A fews seconds of silence overcame the occupants, the audio of locomotive motion filling it. The Nazi bitch laughed looking at Bubi and back to the American again. Bubi only watching the interaction with veiled amusement.
"It's just a test" Her cheerful demeanor came back. Another chuckle.
"But answer truthfully." She waved the barrel back and forth.
"If you try to pickup the gun..." The magazine reinserted and the slide slid back into place. The click of the safety echoing across the train car.
"...you'll be dead before you have the time to regret your choice." She smiled again.
"Good. Then let's start." She placed the vanity filled piece onto the table. Her hands fishing into a handbag on the seat.
"Choose the picture..." Two pictures were laid in front of the American. The first being of a woman's smile, the other being a woman's blue eye.
"... that excites you the most." Her eyes gained mischievous glints along with a similarly mischievous smile. B.J.'s eyes glanced between the pictures and lingering a micro second longer of the gun. He would be lying if he said he didn't thinking of taking the gun. Bitch Engel was right, he'd be dead. Two armed guards and a specialized robot in a cramped space? With only a outdated gun that was for show than use? Next time... next time...
He tapped the picture of the blue eye. He'd taken too long thinking and it was a blue eye. That answer should satisfy the Nazi Aryans.
"Well, well..." Her face was impassive while Bubi watched obediently. She was trying to make him squirm.
"Well fuck you." He didn't wither under her gaze, defiance flowing through his veins.
"Now, choose the picture..." A white petaled flower with a yellow core came into first then a mainly black and spotted yellow butterfly, wings ending with their own tails.
"...that makes you feel happy." Both pictures represented life, their own hardships leading them to an outcome. The flower surviving hungry predators and horrible weather conditions and still retain it's beautiful appearance like... Anya. The butterfly has to avoid being a meal as well and gain enough energy for its cocoon. Yet when its gets there, its sheltered and powerless from the rest of the world. Once it comes out, its changed and the world changes along with it. He tapped the butterfly, he'll need to fly first before anything else.
"Interesting..." Bitch Engel muttered for everyone to hear. Bitch Engel... Bengel? Bitgel? Eitch? He sucked at this... Engel looked over her shoulder back at the guard covering the door.
"You think this man is of impure blood, Bernhard?"
"I don't know, Frau Obersturmbannführer." Bernhard simply stated as if he already knew the answer. Engel only chuckled at his response.
"We will know soon enough, won't we?" She turned back to the table.
"This time I want you to pick the card..." Ground littered with skulls composed the first photo, ashes with still glowing embers. The other photo was a simple black spider a glass cage.
"...that makes you feel disgusted." Broken seals... he couldn't pick the skulls. These bastards revel in that. He tapped the spider. Engel released a hum. She gathered all the pictures and set them to the side.
"Choose the picture..." She fished in her handbag again and pulled out two more pictures, contents unknown.
"...that you fear the most." She laid the photos on the table. The first revealed a metallic boot print taking a near majority of the photo. It came down toward the viewer of the camera. His eyes flickered to the bot and back to the photo, flashes of a red light peering down at him promising death underfoot. The only other significance of the photo was the glint of gold on its top left corner. The other photo was more of a... paranormal nature.
The camera's view was from the ground towards a wall, a globe of white light surrounded by darkness. At the globe's heart stood a large, incomplete shadow. Its shadow disappearing as if its owner was composed of mist. At where its feet were supposed to be, another shadow laid. Its contours roughly taking shape of a man if he had to guess. Wisps rose from the body, their shadows not as defined.
He became nervous, his heart skipping a beat. Memories of Wolfenstein came into mind. Charred flesh giving off a horrendous odor, bodies dropping from the sky only to rise again. What is that...? Some vengeful spirit? A demon?
He reached his hand out to touch the demonified photo only for Engel's hand to grab his wrist, her grip strong. Her face had become serious, her voice sharpened to a dangerous edge.
"I should have said, this is the final card. So choose wisely." The American retracted his released hand and thought about his choice. He didn't know what each photo was of, each possibly representing a unknown threat or nothing at all. Could be the setup for a film for all he knows. He tapped the paranormal one. He resisted throwing the table as the Aryan female grabbed the gun, pulled the slide back, and chambered a round with practiced ease. The barrel pointing between his eyes.
Bubi slightly leaned forward in interest while the robot peered around the bar, releasing electronic beeps. A dull hum came from the machine as its weapons powered up.
"I tell you, if you had not been Aryan, you would have gone for the gun." Her voice colder after every word. After a second passed, Bubi interfered.
"You must excuse the lovely lady..." Bubi lovingly caressed her armed arm, moving it back and forth along her sleeve. She released a smile.
"She's childishly fond of these playing these picture games with absolute strangers." Engel relaxed back into her seat, setting the gun down onto the table. Bubi's hand disappeared underneath the table, still caressing Engel. Where his hand was didn't take a rocket scientist to find out. Both started to laugh as if they didn't threaten the man across from them.
"These pictures? Vacation pictures, old war photos. Nothing more." Laughing, she took the stack of pictures and thew them behind her. All of them floating back to the ground. Bernhard's frown deepened, his left eye giving a notable twitch. He took note she didn't throw the last two away.
"Besides, I can spot an impure with my naked eye. Can't you?" She became more lively, eyes full of mirth at the rhetorical question. She grabbed Bubi's hand and pulled it in further.
"Let him go, Bernhard." The frown lessened before Engel could see it when she looked back over her shoulder back at Bernhard. He stepped aside the door. The American controlled his movements to be as casual as the situation allowed, his hands pushing on the table.
"I would imagine there's a lovely lady awaiting him in his cabin?" That's one thing Bubi had right so far...
"Oh, Bubi - stop it." Blazkowicz grabbed his tray and left the table. He quickly passed the robot and the irritated guard finally entering the next carriage. Anya poked her head out of their respective when he entered the hallway.
"William! In here." He hurried inside, Anya closing the door behind him. He released his breath, turning back to Anya who leaned against the door.
"William?"
"Yes?"
"Is that for me?" She gestured her eyes to the rapidly cooling cups of coffee.
"Yes." He handed her a cup of the dark gold. She only looked at the cup in her hands and glanced up to him.
"You know there's just one bed?" A heart beat later, and a nod from the American.
"Yes."
"...Are you comfortable sharing?"