2010/07/15
2010/07/13
REVAMP!!!!
It was futile to try to stop the impending torture. The German Nazi’s didn’t relent when they got the information that was wanted, they didn’t stop even if the POW had no inkling of what they wanted. They stopped when his skin was on the verge of translucence and his heart beat no more. The smell of death permeated the air of the chamber where Private Ollie sat awaiting his turn. It was almost tangible, the smell. Ollie looked around the room filled with all of 2 chairs. Both denied to him whilst he was chained to the wall. One light flickered on and off hanging from the ceiling. The rest of the walls held cans of food, tuna, sardines, soup, anything a man could want. Lastly, there were the remains of one of his fellow soldiers who had been bludgeoned to death shortly after arrival. He thought he was sitting in a chamber underground somewhere in the middle of Germany where he was routed out by the Nazi’s and captured. It had been a bloody battle with many casualties on either side. But the numbers just weren’t there for the Americans and eventually they surrendered. Grown men had cried out for their mothers when it became clear that they were to be made example of to show they wanted obedience. Memories of his home floated in and out of his head. His dad the strong patriarch; always there too help mold the young man Ollie was becoming. His mom, the gentler one of the family wanting him to be a scholar or an artisan; but it wasn’t to be so when the war started. The metamorphosis happened to quick for anyone in the family to like all the radio screeched out was talk of war, violence, killing, and everything in-between. Art seemed forgotten in America then. The only books read were pamphlets on how to shoot a gun. “You are becoming a man now Ollie,” his dad had said, “There is no denying the great call of the army. Your country needs you. I’m too old but I’ll always be there. Now you better always remember…” the old memory was becoming distant as the faint rattle of keys and slap of boots on the floor came closer and closer until a tall young blonde man opened it. Barking at the Private he said with a thick accent, “Time to ‘Tell us everything’ filth!” The man walked over to Ollie and took out a key to undo the chains on his wrists. Sitting up Ollie rubbed his wrists to get the blood flowing and stepped behind the young man. Looking around at most likely the last half decent room he’d ever see Ollie wondered if the man who built this thought his building would end up so violated with blood. Tripping with a last attempt to defer the torture Ollie fell on his face right at the boots of the escort. A swift kick in the head was all he got for his futile attempt. The man looked down and said “No American gutter scum to help you here, this is the last dirt.” Cringing at that comment Ollie slowly looked up and did what he was trained to do, look around and try to concoct something out of nothing…to live. Trying to pacify the guard would looks like my only way out; a surprise attack would be the only way... His train of thought was interrupted as the torture cell got closer and the tirade of German mixed with English words assaulted him by the “interrogator”. He looked around the hall becoming more desperate by the moment, his blood rising, hope draining…STAIRS! There was a distant staircase so close…so close… The festering anger finally burst out and he lashed out at the Aryan and punched him solidly in the temples with a right hook, he was out before he hit the ground with a THUD.
Private Ollie surveyed his surroundings, nobody else was in the hallway and the torture cell screams didn’t show any sounds of stopping. Taking one last regretful glance at where the sounds emanated from he turned toward the fallen soldier. Stooping down he quickly looted his pockets to find a pistol and one long knife. With the stolen pistol in hand he ran to the stairs. At the top of the stairs a Nazi guard was dozing in front of the entrance. Obviously an escape hadn’t happened that often. With a solid whack to the head with the butt of the gun he was out cold, possibly dead from the dent it made in the skull. Ollie was on the ground floor now in the back of the store. Through a crack in the door he could see the front was bogged with soldiers. Lounging about on all over of the room, checking his gun Ollie saw he had five bullets left in the pistol. They’ll repatriate me straight to the torture cell if I don’t get out and quick…the man closest to me must go down first. Quickly and decisively Private Ollie stepped out clubbed the Nazi in the head and with months only of skill with a hand gun the others were out but one almost shot him in the side the bullet hitting the wall right next to him. Full of reverent for the glass on the shop and how thick it was thankfully no one else heard the shots.
Looking at the dead he saw one was a youth of no more than 18 years. His uniform showed that he had been a general. Imperiously he said “Sad, sad, sad what The Nazi’s have come to using boys to do a mans job?” laughing to himself over the joke because he in fact was only 19. He swapped his clothes with one of the lower ranking soldiers, and took a minute to survey the area and see if anything was of use. Taking all of the ammo lying around he saw that the store was an all purpose store food and daily used tools clearly used to cover the shelves with grime stained in the back in the form of boxes where they hadn’t been moved in months. That is, until the Germans had cleaned the place out. Moving a chair to block the door for opening if the other Germans tried to come up. How long was I out when they captured me he thought? Last he remembered the drop was somewhere in France. Not knowing how long they had held him a sad realization overcame Private Ollie… he could be anywhere.
Blood rushing panic consumed him Where am i? What am I doing? Where am I? What am I doing? Where… Calm. I need calm. Taking deep breaths slowly his heart rate came under control and he stepped over the last body to the door. He silently, and slowly slid the door open and snaked his head through the tiny opening. Turning first left he saw the street was deserted. Still taking in his surroundings he cautiously walked out to explore. Looking down the block there seemed to be a distinct smell of aged leather and dried blood… a mix of the scent from downstairs stuck in his nostrils and checking right he saw a butcher shop not so neatly had had all of its contents spewed out onto the sidewalk. Lastly there was an odd smell.
Overpowering definitely. Horrible definitely. Trash… definitely.
Walking casually away from the store he strolled along the street trying to escape the smell. He ducked into an alley only to find the source of the smell! A dumpster overfilled with trash sat there in all of its glory. Knowing he hadn’t escaped yet Ollie hopped behind the dumpster; he then curled up not out of sight from the street. Being proven correct was instantly gratifying; the door to the store banged shut and out ran three German soldiers screaming “Geflüchtete Gefangene! Geflüchtete Gefangene!” Escaped Prisoner! Escaped Prisoner! Obviously they had seen the dead bodies. Over and over again they screamed, luckily the only took a quick look down the alley and kept moving.
Not daring move for over an hour and only taking short gasping breaths- sparingly he waited…
Way before he came out Private heard the returning footsteps but for safety reasons dared not leave. Finally he stepped poked his head out over the mound of trash, looking out the mouth of the alley Private Ollie saw no one in the immediate vicinity. Breathing a sigh of relief he slumped down next to the dumpster nearer the back of the alley and still bearing its smell he allowed himself a minute of rest before he had to keep moving. Closing his eyes and willing himself to drift off as soldiers do they get whatever sleep whenever they can… and that’s when he heard the GROWL.
He planned as acting as a saboteur on the inside of the German army, or at least try to be one with out being repatriated first. But as he turned and stared at the grotesque thing in the back of the alley his mind completely shut down except to a lethargic numbness that was impending doom. The first thought out of that state was not of saving his own life but of livid anger towards this, this… THING. Blocking his path, what right does this, this… BEAST, have to stop him from trying to hurt the German army? And rapt attention on the problem but all the while overcast plaintively by fear. Fear entranced him. Fear curdled his blood. Fear was he. He was fear. Staring into those hypnotizing eyes he slipped into a state more of sedated fear and incongruous being, which surrounded Private Ollie’s mind. Being devoid of responsibilities sounded really good right now. “NO!” he roared! Tenacity won out and Private Ollie leapt at the beast.
Roaring he soared forward knife in his hand from the German uniform, Private Ollie slashed down and drew first blood from the beast. But what was it? No hair… two legs… big gigantic fangs bloodstained from many past battles or from the size of it quick “feedings” on other animals smaller than itself. Freakishly large eyebrows…blue lips… blood shot eyes from staying awake a few too many nights fearing for its life for no matter how large an animal a quick cut to the neck or bite in this instance can end anyone. Hoofed feet...boney back… All his thoughts expressed in a jumble of seconds and in that short time it or whatever it is had tried to strike two crushing blows but somehow Private jumped back in time! Two more and ‘Ollie realized that there was no chance that hand to hand combat could work against this thing. Not turning his back he stepped lightly back and on the fourth step he pulled out his pistol but TRIPPED! Laying on his back the Beast took advantage of his misfortune and bounded forward landing squarely on his chest. Beating its chest the Beast pulled his arm back, deciding rush was not needed for his prey had no chance of escape but how wrong was he… a memory slipped back to him in his last second to live… Him and his father sitting in his little home just before him going to the army to enlist his last talk with his father…“You’re not big. You’re not strong. And your sure as hell not tough. But you have a brain. That might just come in handy in a fight.” “Yes sir.” Solemnly he shook hands with his dad and tears welled up in his eyes. Not wanting his father to see Ollie quickly turned and strode out into the day… Kicking up Ollie swiped the feet right out from under the beast! One, two, three jabs to the jugular and it writhed to the ground wriggling in its death throes. Finally the thrashing stopped and the beast became glassy eyed in a heap next to him. Breathing heavily he shimmied over and away from the thing back to the wall of the alley and continued sliding until he was back to his resting place before the beast was seen. This time sleep came not out of his volition but out of sympathy for the adrenaline in his body finally failed and sleep came blissfully.
How long he slept was not a problem to Private Ollie. He wasn’t concerned about anything for the first idyllic seconds between sleep and awareness. The time when nothing mattered, no problem troubled his mind. Then came that first instant after the bliss when all the pent-up lethargy is released into the brain and all those wonderful dreams escape Private’s memory. That split-second time when everything changes and the tidal wave of veracity washes over the shores of peaceful delusion clawing with its black waves; reaching and pulling everything in and under the ocean until nothing is left except cold hard reality. Slowly shaking the tension out of his lean, starved body he gradually massaged all the kinks that had worked up throughout Ollie’s body from sleeping in an uncomfortable position. How long has it been since I have gotten a full night’s sleep? How long has it been since I have had a good bed to sleep in? How long has it been since I have had a break… I need a break…How long has it been since I’ve had a bar of soap?The sun was just rising over the building he was leaning on meaning the Private was facing east. So the fastest way to America was behind him. But that was not the goal. The goal was to sto- no stopping was impossible the goal was to hinder the Nazi’s for as much as one human could possibly do. Thinking that the old goal-less Private Ollie died and fell away leaving room for a new fiery spirit to fill up the empty husk he liked to call a body militarily trained body. Standing up Ollie looked around smoothed the wrinkles out of his uniform turned toward the mouth of the alley and walked calmly over it. Looking out for a second he gathered the all the courage he could muster and stepped out into the bright day formulating ideas on how to survive and move on.
A black car trundled by they smiled and saluted Ollie while going on their daily circuit through the city; as they rolled by he looked up and squinted at the sun and smiled to himself, they won’t be smiling hopefully when I’m done with them! Stepping out with renewed confidence Private Ollie started a brisk walk down hesitating he looked around and saw a sign saying: Tanner Straße. What was that again…? I know tanner, Straße, Straße… that’s, ROAD! Tanner Road… hmm I guess the smell wasn’t just the dumpster. Patting himself down to check his arsenal Private found two pistols, six magazines and an ominously big hand grenade looking like it could blow a ten foot hole in a cement wall. Continuing his walk down Tanner rd. Private Ollie found that the usual clamor of daily life, and business was missing from this town. Curious but not overly so Ollie maintained his pace for a few more blocks until he was well away from the torture house. There you go!