Post by mystique on Jul 27, 2006 23:58:25 GMT -5
Reineke's OOC Note: As my own sort of tribute to the subject matter, the individuals Irma Grese and Josef Mengele as well as the locations and the disease Noma are based on real people and events in Auschwitz. Auschwitz-Birkenau was the 'gypsy camp' Mengele and Grese once worked in. Erik just happens to be from gypsy stock as well as having been Jewish, so this likely would have been where he was sent. The other children mentioned are named after two noted nazi/holocaust historians.
Cold. Wet. Dark. There were half a dozen bodies experiencing these sensations and young Erik Lensherr was one of them. He was huddled in the corner, looking around the room. Unlike some of the others, he knew why he had been singled out from the rest of the victims. It was because he had some sort of power. He had seen a few of his fellow cell-mates demonstrate similar powers, too.
He was only sure of a few things in life. One of which was that he would die if he didn't find a way to escape this place soon. The officers had been removing one mutant from the room each week. A period of 13 weeks passed and not one had ever returned. Most of the faces around him came after he had arrived; it was only a matter of time before it was his turn.
The mal-nourished boy lifted his head up and said, "This isn't right. Isn't there something we can do? Anything. We're in this hole because we have special powers or something. Can't we use them to escape?!"
If there was a spark of courage left in these people, Erik couldn't find it. All he saw were stupid, terrified faces, reflecting back what he himself was feeling. He stood up quickly, lost his balance, and caught himself against the wall. The others pulled away as if he was some sort of disease. As if his rebellion against this fate was something horrific.
As he made his way towards the door, a form planned in his mind. Next time the door opened, that would be his chance. he hadn't tried to use his mutant powers since the incident at the gate, but he was sure he could use them again. He would stake his life on it.
When Erik reached the door, he gingerly sat down next to it. Now all he had to do was wait. If this place had taught him anything, it was patience.
Irma Grese, the notorious 'Beautiful Beast' of Auschwitz, stalked with a steely sort of grace around the compound. Her nightly routine had been interrupted by a precious few moments, but now her eyes focused beneath the flood lights of Krema III. She knew precisely where she would be going.
Dr. Mengele had requested another Noma II child, the special group he had selected as those whose physiology somehow left them immune to the disease he had been researching. As part of normal procedure, Oberaufseherin Grese was given her strength book and asked to document those chosen for the following day's procedures.
Irma held the leather-bound volume to her chest as she approached the grate to the ward that held the Noma II children. Her whip, a vicious looking translucent creation of braided celluloid, tapped on her knee as one might call a horse or a dog.
"Stehen Sie oben." It was impressive, if terrifying, the way her voice could bark a command without raising in volume. "Stand up. Now."
As the children scuttled about, some helping others too weakened to do so on their own to their feet, Irma's inscrutible black eyes scanned over their faces. They did not know nor could they guess that her heart was beating so hard beneath her ribcage she thought she might collapse on the spot.
Opening the book, it took all of her concentration not to shake, the page's shivering a bit telltale as her eyes fell to the latest entry.
"Raul Hilberg. Wolfgang Benz. Erik Lehnsherr." She looked up from the list and watched the children file forward. There was a long pause as the woman considered whether she could go through with this.
Her gloved hand unlocked the grate and swung it open. "Gekommen. Follow me."
Erik had watched this dark omen of a woman as she approached, and his heart had leapt into his throat. He had been completely ready to slip out past her and run as fast as he could, but it seemed Lady Luck was conspiring with him on this night.
As he followed both Raul and Wolfgang out the door, a thought occured to him. This was the first time he had heard their names, after seeing their faces for so long. If he had still been capable of laughter, he would have at that moment. Instead, he obediently trailed behind the others, waiting for the opportune moment to flee.
Irma's bootheels caught the hard dirt ground as they made their way across the camp to Dr. Mengele's office. It was difficult for the woman behind the officer's eyes to imagine she would have to leave these children to their fate; she was here for information to aid the Allies in bringing down the German government, but was she also supposed to walk away when she may have had a chance to save someone?
Under the cover of night and the trust that had been placed in Irma Grese by her superiors, she altered course before she had too long to think about it. As the first two children entered the office where they would await the Doctor's arrival the next morning, she caught the third child by the wrist. Irma's strong hand held Erik's arm tightly, and her gaze was cold as she pulled him back from the door, shutting it in the other children's faces. It was the first time Mystique had ever gone against the orders of those she worked for. She hoped they, and God, would forgive her if she failed.
Wordlessly, she nearly dragged the half-starved child across the camp with her as if he were in line for punishment. "Tell me," she said in her perfect German. "The records say you have powers, but not what type. Explain what it is you can do."
Instead of being locked in that room with the others, Erik was being roughly led around to who knows where. The woman was saying something to him, but it was taking him a moment to process. All he could think about was the utter hopelessness in the other faces as the door closed on them. But that wouldn't be him, would it? Something funny was happening, and, for now, Erik was allowing himself a little hope.
Oh. She was asking what he could do. "I can do things with metal." He bit his lip for a moment, debating with himself whether or not he should have said anything. But she seemed interested in what he could do, and he was eager to show someone.
Erik reached his hand out. After a few moments, an empty shell casing flew up from the ground and into his hand. He held it up to the woman.
"Stehen sie oben, schmutz, techt diese minute!!" She yelled at the top of her voice, jerking him to nearly off his feet, holding his wrist above his head. She lifted her whip as if to strike him, and added under her breath "You can undo the lock, can't you? Speak quickly!"
He cringed at the whip. The fear of being yelled at by an officer was deeply ingrained into his mind, even if he technically understood what she was doing.
"I can do it." Erik was confident in himself, but undoing a lock might be a challenge. Undoing a lock might take time, and he wasn't sure how much time they had.
Irma sucked in a breath as fear gripped her. If they were caught, she had no way of saving either of their lives. She yelled once more, telling him how he'd been a very bad little pig, and how he would have to learn to obey.
Marching across the yard, a vicious, dark look on her face, she led Erik by the arm to the barracks of the SS soldiers that works at Auschwitz-Birkenau. At the end of a long, dark hall she opened a room, and shut the door behind them, half shoving him into the room. The door locked behind them.
The room is mostly bare- Irma Grese had her own home to return to in the evenings, but kept a room here to her own just the same. Erik would not have been the first inmate to be taken back to her room. In the corner was a cage large enough to hold an adult man curled up like a dog.
Her voice immediately soften. Her hand rested on his back, the most gentle touch he'd received since his arrival at the camp. "Please. I'm sorry. You'll have to stay in there." She leaned over and opened the little door.
The whole situation had started to blur for Erik. One moment he was being shaken like a ragdoll, the next being dragged through a gloomy building. Now having being thrust into a small room with a lone cage, real terror welled up inside him. He must have been a fool to trust this woman! He had only been led in one big circle and this is where it ended.
Erik struggled to subdue these thoughts as he slowly crawled into the cage. Surely that had been real compassion in her voice. That wasn't fake gentleness in her touch. He looked up at the woman, wide eyes staring into her face. He was deparately trying to communicate how he was placing his trust and life in her hands. Unfortunately, telepathy wasn't part of his abilities.
Irma sat on the bed opposite the little cage and watched him for a while. There was an aching sadness on her face she couldn't hide now that she was out of eyesight of any other SS. With a sigh, she crawled down to her knees beside his cage, her face very near to his. Her whisper was almost too quiet to hear.
"I'm going to get you out of here. I'm sorry, Wenig Lehnsherr, but I cannot save your friends." She was quiet for a moment. He had no way of knowing it was only for the tears caught in her throat.
"My name is Raven." she lifted her hand to rest her fingertips on the wire of the cage as if she hadn't just put him in there. "We have to pretend you are my prisoner, for a few days, until I can find the moment to distract the others. I won't be able to feed you much, we can't have you looking as if you are being taken care of, but I will get you what I can at mealtimes." Three scraps a day would likely be more than he had been eating during his stay.
"I will come the night I leave, then you can break this lock, and escape." She clicked the small padlock closed on the door. "I know you can, Erik." Her whisper fell to nearly nothing as her voice shook in the small space between them. "I'm sorry I cannot save you all."
He sat and listened carefully to what Raven said. How strange, to be named after a bird. But she would be his wings out of this place. Not for anyone else though. Raul and Wolfgang were in that doctor's office with nothing but death to look forward to. He felt a distant sort of sorrow for them, but that was it. Strange that he should feel more emotion towards this stranger. Though she did seem to be upset about something.
Tentatively, Erik raised his hand up to brush his fingertips against Raven's. It was an awkward gesture for him, but he was compelled to show grattitude to the woman who was trying to free him.
Cold. Wet. Dark. There were half a dozen bodies experiencing these sensations and young Erik Lensherr was one of them. He was huddled in the corner, looking around the room. Unlike some of the others, he knew why he had been singled out from the rest of the victims. It was because he had some sort of power. He had seen a few of his fellow cell-mates demonstrate similar powers, too.
He was only sure of a few things in life. One of which was that he would die if he didn't find a way to escape this place soon. The officers had been removing one mutant from the room each week. A period of 13 weeks passed and not one had ever returned. Most of the faces around him came after he had arrived; it was only a matter of time before it was his turn.
The mal-nourished boy lifted his head up and said, "This isn't right. Isn't there something we can do? Anything. We're in this hole because we have special powers or something. Can't we use them to escape?!"
If there was a spark of courage left in these people, Erik couldn't find it. All he saw were stupid, terrified faces, reflecting back what he himself was feeling. He stood up quickly, lost his balance, and caught himself against the wall. The others pulled away as if he was some sort of disease. As if his rebellion against this fate was something horrific.
As he made his way towards the door, a form planned in his mind. Next time the door opened, that would be his chance. he hadn't tried to use his mutant powers since the incident at the gate, but he was sure he could use them again. He would stake his life on it.
When Erik reached the door, he gingerly sat down next to it. Now all he had to do was wait. If this place had taught him anything, it was patience.
Irma Grese, the notorious 'Beautiful Beast' of Auschwitz, stalked with a steely sort of grace around the compound. Her nightly routine had been interrupted by a precious few moments, but now her eyes focused beneath the flood lights of Krema III. She knew precisely where she would be going.
Dr. Mengele had requested another Noma II child, the special group he had selected as those whose physiology somehow left them immune to the disease he had been researching. As part of normal procedure, Oberaufseherin Grese was given her strength book and asked to document those chosen for the following day's procedures.
Irma held the leather-bound volume to her chest as she approached the grate to the ward that held the Noma II children. Her whip, a vicious looking translucent creation of braided celluloid, tapped on her knee as one might call a horse or a dog.
"Stehen Sie oben." It was impressive, if terrifying, the way her voice could bark a command without raising in volume. "Stand up. Now."
As the children scuttled about, some helping others too weakened to do so on their own to their feet, Irma's inscrutible black eyes scanned over their faces. They did not know nor could they guess that her heart was beating so hard beneath her ribcage she thought she might collapse on the spot.
Opening the book, it took all of her concentration not to shake, the page's shivering a bit telltale as her eyes fell to the latest entry.
"Raul Hilberg. Wolfgang Benz. Erik Lehnsherr." She looked up from the list and watched the children file forward. There was a long pause as the woman considered whether she could go through with this.
Her gloved hand unlocked the grate and swung it open. "Gekommen. Follow me."
Erik had watched this dark omen of a woman as she approached, and his heart had leapt into his throat. He had been completely ready to slip out past her and run as fast as he could, but it seemed Lady Luck was conspiring with him on this night.
As he followed both Raul and Wolfgang out the door, a thought occured to him. This was the first time he had heard their names, after seeing their faces for so long. If he had still been capable of laughter, he would have at that moment. Instead, he obediently trailed behind the others, waiting for the opportune moment to flee.
Irma's bootheels caught the hard dirt ground as they made their way across the camp to Dr. Mengele's office. It was difficult for the woman behind the officer's eyes to imagine she would have to leave these children to their fate; she was here for information to aid the Allies in bringing down the German government, but was she also supposed to walk away when she may have had a chance to save someone?
Under the cover of night and the trust that had been placed in Irma Grese by her superiors, she altered course before she had too long to think about it. As the first two children entered the office where they would await the Doctor's arrival the next morning, she caught the third child by the wrist. Irma's strong hand held Erik's arm tightly, and her gaze was cold as she pulled him back from the door, shutting it in the other children's faces. It was the first time Mystique had ever gone against the orders of those she worked for. She hoped they, and God, would forgive her if she failed.
Wordlessly, she nearly dragged the half-starved child across the camp with her as if he were in line for punishment. "Tell me," she said in her perfect German. "The records say you have powers, but not what type. Explain what it is you can do."
Instead of being locked in that room with the others, Erik was being roughly led around to who knows where. The woman was saying something to him, but it was taking him a moment to process. All he could think about was the utter hopelessness in the other faces as the door closed on them. But that wouldn't be him, would it? Something funny was happening, and, for now, Erik was allowing himself a little hope.
Oh. She was asking what he could do. "I can do things with metal." He bit his lip for a moment, debating with himself whether or not he should have said anything. But she seemed interested in what he could do, and he was eager to show someone.
Erik reached his hand out. After a few moments, an empty shell casing flew up from the ground and into his hand. He held it up to the woman.
"Stehen sie oben, schmutz, techt diese minute!!" She yelled at the top of her voice, jerking him to nearly off his feet, holding his wrist above his head. She lifted her whip as if to strike him, and added under her breath "You can undo the lock, can't you? Speak quickly!"
He cringed at the whip. The fear of being yelled at by an officer was deeply ingrained into his mind, even if he technically understood what she was doing.
"I can do it." Erik was confident in himself, but undoing a lock might be a challenge. Undoing a lock might take time, and he wasn't sure how much time they had.
Irma sucked in a breath as fear gripped her. If they were caught, she had no way of saving either of their lives. She yelled once more, telling him how he'd been a very bad little pig, and how he would have to learn to obey.
Marching across the yard, a vicious, dark look on her face, she led Erik by the arm to the barracks of the SS soldiers that works at Auschwitz-Birkenau. At the end of a long, dark hall she opened a room, and shut the door behind them, half shoving him into the room. The door locked behind them.
The room is mostly bare- Irma Grese had her own home to return to in the evenings, but kept a room here to her own just the same. Erik would not have been the first inmate to be taken back to her room. In the corner was a cage large enough to hold an adult man curled up like a dog.
Her voice immediately soften. Her hand rested on his back, the most gentle touch he'd received since his arrival at the camp. "Please. I'm sorry. You'll have to stay in there." She leaned over and opened the little door.
The whole situation had started to blur for Erik. One moment he was being shaken like a ragdoll, the next being dragged through a gloomy building. Now having being thrust into a small room with a lone cage, real terror welled up inside him. He must have been a fool to trust this woman! He had only been led in one big circle and this is where it ended.
Erik struggled to subdue these thoughts as he slowly crawled into the cage. Surely that had been real compassion in her voice. That wasn't fake gentleness in her touch. He looked up at the woman, wide eyes staring into her face. He was deparately trying to communicate how he was placing his trust and life in her hands. Unfortunately, telepathy wasn't part of his abilities.
Irma sat on the bed opposite the little cage and watched him for a while. There was an aching sadness on her face she couldn't hide now that she was out of eyesight of any other SS. With a sigh, she crawled down to her knees beside his cage, her face very near to his. Her whisper was almost too quiet to hear.
"I'm going to get you out of here. I'm sorry, Wenig Lehnsherr, but I cannot save your friends." She was quiet for a moment. He had no way of knowing it was only for the tears caught in her throat.
"My name is Raven." she lifted her hand to rest her fingertips on the wire of the cage as if she hadn't just put him in there. "We have to pretend you are my prisoner, for a few days, until I can find the moment to distract the others. I won't be able to feed you much, we can't have you looking as if you are being taken care of, but I will get you what I can at mealtimes." Three scraps a day would likely be more than he had been eating during his stay.
"I will come the night I leave, then you can break this lock, and escape." She clicked the small padlock closed on the door. "I know you can, Erik." Her whisper fell to nearly nothing as her voice shook in the small space between them. "I'm sorry I cannot save you all."
He sat and listened carefully to what Raven said. How strange, to be named after a bird. But she would be his wings out of this place. Not for anyone else though. Raul and Wolfgang were in that doctor's office with nothing but death to look forward to. He felt a distant sort of sorrow for them, but that was it. Strange that he should feel more emotion towards this stranger. Though she did seem to be upset about something.
Tentatively, Erik raised his hand up to brush his fingertips against Raven's. It was an awkward gesture for him, but he was compelled to show grattitude to the woman who was trying to free him.