Scherer
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Posted: Dec 6th, 2007 at 11:20 pm
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The interrogation with Sebastian was far too easy, but Garret gathered the boy would be building up more resistance soon enough. It didn’t matter. In the long run, the child was absolutely nothing compared to the officer in numerous aspects. Garret was fairly certain he had more wits, strength, and hah, of course charm.
Gramann was taking the day off, in fact, Garret made sure of that. After all, he couldn’t do this job all by himself. This time around, it was only the two of them. They were raiding two households, one with two residents, the other with three. It certainly wasn’t too much to handle. Gramann had been a fine member of Garret’s squad in the past, and the officer was just going to make sure his comrade still capable of being who he used to be. He hoped the little Slavic whore hadn’t softened his friend up too much.
Upon pulling up to the house, Garret glanced over to his comrade, a smug smirk on his face. “We’ll see if you’re still man enough to… rile a few things up,” he snorted before turning off the car. He stepped out of the Volkswagen, staring up at the rather pleasant townhouse. Ugh, why hadn’t this area been cleared yet? These scab-infected Slavs didn’t deserve this sort of luxury. Not even bothering to wait for Gramann, he strode up to the front door. Before he knocked, he of course straightened out his jacket, fixed his tie, and adjusted his cap.
He stared at the door for a moment, thinking in his head, “These poor POOR people.” Though, the feeling he got from the thought was more excitement than pity. The feeling of superiority amused him to no end. It gave him so much time to be more… creative. With that in mind, he raised his fist, and rapped lightly at the door.
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... and Kittens |
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Posted: Dec 6th, 2007 at 11:28 pm
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Natyashenka Mykhaltsovia Ponomaryov was clad in her usual house dress and apron, the front of which was dusted lightly with flour from her daily bread making. She sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand to shift a tendril of dark hair from her face as she heard the rapping at the door. What now? "Pavlush, would you get that?" She shouted to the next room. Boris stirred in his cradle, and flustered, she patted her floured hand on her apron again and shook her head, wandering for the door. Pavlushshenka was wearing his slippers, a newspaper propped on his lap as he flicked idly through the pages. it wasn't recent, there were no recent papers, and he must've read this one about a hundred times. He watched Natyashenka pass him, a womanly glare in her eyes for a moment before she softened at his dopey grin. So very much like Seb's had once been.
She pulled the latch back on the door and opened it inwards. Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the Nazi officer.
"Pavlush... ah... would you come here please?" Pavlushshenka rose from his seat, tossing the paper aside and sighed faintly, following the young girl. In the kitchen, Boris began wailing loudly. Pavlush paused at the door too, wary, very wary.
"Yes officer? Can I help you.?"
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Posted: Dec 6th, 2007 at 11:42 pm
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All the way from Bogdanovka Gramann had sat beside Scherer in stoic silence. It was difficult to remain still. Gunnar's nerves were tying his insides in knots. Despite his earlier urgings for Scherer to simply hand him over, Gunnar didn't want to die. He didn't want to be exiled to the front for cannon fodder or sent to a camp. Scherer had told him they were going to be making some arrests, but Gunnar didn't quite trust the man. The fact that it was only the two of them deepened his suspicions. When they passed by the train station without stopping Gunnar let out a sigh of relief. He had half-expected Scherer to shove him out of the car and onto a cattle car of some kind.
By the time they reached the house relief had made Gunnar almost cheerful. He followed Scherer up to the door. Why, this wasn't so bad. Then Scherer turned on him. The snide jab about his manhood stung. Gunnar opened his mouth to snarl a retort when Scherer knocked. Gunnar went to attention instantly, standing stiffly behind Scherer. Time for business. He had not gone for his gun, but he was ready to grab it if the inhabitants had any clever ideas.
A young Slavic woman opened the door, dark-haired and rather pretty. Gunnar could hear a baby crying somewhere in the background. Baby? For the first time in his life, Gunnar felt a pang of regret, swiftly followed by horror. Scherer was right. He had gone soft! His face hardening, Gunnar stared coldly down at the young woman. "We have some questions for you and your husband, miss."
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Scherer
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Posted: Dec 9th, 2007 at 11:01 pm
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Garret was tempted to cut right to the chase here; just let them know they were being arrested, round them off, and ship ‘em off to wherever he felt like it. At the same time, he felt like toying with them a bit first. There was no need to start off with a bad impression. He gave them a gentle and reassuring smile as he let Gramann do the talking. Before the other officer spoke a word, there was a harsh and rather irritating animalistic noise coming from the other room. Garret had to resist the urge to burst out laughing right there.
A baby! How could he forget? He HAD won the jackpot today.
Still, he kept his facial expression the same; a steady smile, an at ease stance, and eye contact. That’s all it took nowadays. He also made note of Gramann’s initial hesitation after the baby cried out. Oh, this WAS going to be a good day. Garret would make sure to allow Gramann to take the lead. After all! He needed the experience.
The officer’s gaze shifted over to his partner. “Now Herr Gramann, don’t be pushy. Allow them to tend to their child.” He returned his focus to the couple in front of him. “And don’t looked so tense.” He gave Pelvisinmyshit a hearty pat on the shoulder. “Take your time, we’re in no hurry.”
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... and Kittens
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Posted: Dec 10th, 2007 at 12:48 pm
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Natyashenka had unknowingly wound her hand so tightly into her apron that the stitches gave a faint ripping sound for a second before she eased her hand out of the fabric with a faint wince, unable to rip her gaze from the two imposing figures on her doorstep. The habitually pleasant part of her mind thought to invite them in for some tea, but the loathsome side that feared them and everything they stood for refused the impulse. Pavlushshenka put a hand out and he swept the woman back inside in what could be considered a protective gesture. Flustered and afraid, she crept away to the kitchen to tend to Boris.
Pavlushshenka cleared his throat quietly. "Questions? You may address your questions to me, my wife knows nothing but child raising and baking." That was a lie of course, and he would never have viewed his wife that way, but making her appear ignorant to everything might save her from their interrogations or god only knew what else.
"Please, come in, I'll have my wife bring us some tea." Politeness was the best course of action he could think of. He stuffed his trembling hands in the pockets of his slacks. "What is this all about? We're... we're not Jewish, you know?" Oh, he knew, he knew what they'd been doing to the Jews of Odessa, best to cover that question right up front. He stepped aside to allow the Nazis entrance to his house, and he got a distinct sense something like Jonathan Harker stepping over the threshold of Dracula's castle.
In the kitchen, Boris' wailing had dulled down to a quiet whimpering under the tender ministrations of his mother. She held him to her fearfully and buried her face against the infant's neck. What could this mean for them? What would happen? Her motherly mind flew to all the worst conclusions she could muster, and she squeezed the infant tighter.
"Natya! Could you make some tea for our guests?" Pavlushshenka's voice from the living room. So he had invited the bastards in! She closed her eyes for a moment, then shifted the infant to her hip, one arm supporting him. She shifted the tea kettle over to the little wood burning stove and came in the meantime to stand in the doorway between the kitchen and livingroom. Boris eyed the scene for a brief moment before the whimpering resumed and he hid his face against his mother's bosom, muffling the sound. Her free arm came about him again protectively.
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Posted: Dec 10th, 2007 at 01:29 pm
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Scherer's deceptively pleasant manner had never disturbed Gunnar before it was used on him. Now he found himself grinding his teeth with suppressed anger even though Scherer's target was the little family in the house. Well, good. He could use that anger to overcome his own shameful weakness. Gramann nodded at Scherer's order, raising his eyebrows slightly. Oh, dear. This was bound to be an ugly scene.
The officer followed Scherer into the house silently, glancing around. A typical dwelling. These people weren't rich, but that little wife in the apron obviously kept her house well. Almost touching, how the husband tried to protect her. The baby's wails finally tapered off. Gunnar's jaw unclenched as the irritating noise died out. That was better. Hard to concentrate with the child carrying on. Hard to focus on his anger and not on that unsettling feeling of guilt.
Forgetting the child, Gunnar looked over at its young mother. Tea? He had drunk more of that damn weak herbal stuff in the last month than ever before in his life. Gunnar had actually grown to like Lyaksandro's tea. Remembering the Slav, Gunnar felt a swell of rage and harnessed it. "If you were Jews, Ponomaryov, we wouldn't have bothered knocking," he said coldly, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice. Scherer might be able to play nice, but Gramann wasn't as skilled an actor. He looked over at the other officer, waiting for his decision. Would Scherer keep on playing the game, pretending this was some kind of bizarre social visit?
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Scherer
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Posted: Dec 11th, 2007 at 12:34 am
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Garret let out an honestly entertained laugh when the husband made the comment about them not being Jewish. Though, he abruptly stifled the laugh when Gramann gave such a serious reply. Oh! The officer was indeed becoming proud with his pupil. Though, he snorted at the, ‘not bothering knocking’ bit. Garret was feeling extremely giddy. It was a combination of things really: he’d tricked Sebastian into giving him the information, thrown a stack of papers in that bitch’s face proving his success, dragged Gramann here, only to be presented with the performance of a life time and ah yes! There was always the actually comforting, manipulating, then violently raiding the house bit. Once again, he had to straighten his composure.
“I’m sorry,” he began, clearing his throat. “My comrade is making the situation far more serious than it actually is. I do indeed appreciate your hospitality though, thank you for allowing us in.” Though, they would have gotten in one way or the other.
The officer began walking around the main room, glancing about, straightening pictures, picking up decorations, and over all just clearly making it known that he was indeed breaking their comfortable bubble. Then, he carried on, still in a pleasantly polite tone. “You really have nothing to be worried about. Like you said, you’re not Jewish. We’re really quite accepting of all things not Jewish nowadays. Especially homosexuals, like my comrade here.”
He stopped, turning around on one heel to face the husband once again. “All that aside though, I’m here to talk about your… brother was it? Sebastian. Yes. Ah, he’s quite the trouble maker dare I say. Were you informed of his arrest or have you not noticed that he’s been missing for nearly a month now? I’m assuming this will make family holidays very difficult.”
« Last Edited by
Scherer
Dec 11th, 2007 at 10:13 am »
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... and Kittens
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Posted: Dec 11th, 2007 at 11:15 pm
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Pavlushshenka watched Scherer with a critical eye as he made his way around the room, invading their privacy and abusing the hospitality he'd begrudgingly extended to him. He followed behind him after a moment and set the pictures back crooked with a distinct narrowing of his eyes. He glanced at their family portrait, it was taken only a year before, and there, yes there, Sebastian's smiling face peering right back at him.
"Three months, actually..." he said quietly, turning back to face the officers. He eyed them both warily. "He's been gone for three whole months, he and his friends. Lyaksandro's mother has been distraught. What have you done with them? They're just foolish boys, they wouldn't know what was good for them if it hit them in the face. Is this about their silly music obsession? You can't take that seriously, surely." He shook his head faintly, and turned the portrait down onto it's face.
"Mama thought they'd run off to join the reds, they're so impulsive..." again he shook his head as if in acknowledgment that he didn't believe a word of it.
Natyushenka had disappeared back into the kitchen and she came back a few moments later with a porcelain tea service. She set it on the little coffee table. This was real tea, not a herbal blend, but the last of the imported tea Pavlushshenka had managed to buy from a Greek schooner at the docks. Brois was once again whimpering in the other room, fitful and tired, or perhaps hungry. Natyushenka looked suddenly tired, and she swept the annoying tendril of hair back behind her ear.
"We don't have any sugar..." she said coldly, eying the officers meaningfully. "We're lucky to even have milk." She paced to Pavlushshenka's side and gripped the crook of his arm, whirling so that they stood as some kind of united front, the tea sitting there, left un-poured despite the fact that it was her duty to pour it as the hostess. There was a bright intelligence to her that belied Pavlushshenka's portrayal of her to the Nazis.
"Sebastian is a dear boy, I can't see how you would think him a trouble maker..." aside for the occasional drunken brawls of course, but, boys would be boys. Her face remained stoic and unimpressed.
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Posted: Dec 11th, 2007 at 11:56 pm
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With a muttered assent, Gunnar stepped back and let Scherer do the talking. So Scherer didn't want to frighten these people yet? All right. Gunnar would hold his tongue for now. He watched the Ponomaryovs closely instead, ready to step in and help Scherer if they tried anything. The husband in particular seemed as though he might turn belligerent at any moment.
And then Scherer made his snide little comment, putting Gunnar's resolve to remain quiet to the test. His head whipped around to stare at Scherer, shocked and horrified. Gunnar's face went deathly pale and then flushed red with anger and embarrassment. He remained frozen, stunned, until the Ponomaryovs finished their protests. Lyaksandro's name. That hurt. Oh, he was angry. "Is that why you dragged me here?" He hissed between clenched teeth. "Humiliating me in front of these ... these scum!" Gunnar spat the last word viciously, turning quickly to glare at the Ponomaryovs. "I'll take the woman right now if you want me to prove myself!"
Gunnar marched up to stand right in front of the couple, shaking with rage. "Here, I'll give you something to say to Lyaksandro's mother. I fucked him and Scherer marched him out into the snow to die. She'll be happy to have some news of him, hey? Tell her with my love." Still furious, Gunnar moved to the coffee table and poured himself a cup. He drank, wishing with all his heart that he dared throw the hot liquid into Scherer's eyes. It burned his tongue, but he didn't notice. "Good tea. This is a nice fucking tea party. Thanks for inviting me, Scherer."
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Scherer
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Posted: Dec 12th, 2007 at 12:26 am
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Garret was really having difficulty stifling his laughter now. The situation as going just as he’d hoped, if not better. He half-heartedly listened to whatever the mother was yammering on about. Blah blah blah. He gave them a nonchalant and uninterested stare, as if he’d heard the story a million times over, which he had. They always tried to throw some guilt trip, talking about how their situation as oh-so-horrible. He’d heard AND disregarded worse.
Then Gramann went off. A delighted smile crossed Garret’s face as his comrade exploded in front of everyone. They seem to hardly recognize the comment before, and for all he knew, they probably could have brushed it off as some crude joke. Nevertheless, Garret had a feeling Gramann would go off like this and thus, only prove his point.
When the other officer was finished with his tangent, gulping down tea like it was vodka, both of Garret’s gloved hands clapped together and led into a faint applause. “Bravo,” he snorted, trying to hold back the mad urge to giggle. “Excellent performance, all the way up until the part where you admitted to having sexual intercourse with your so called ‘scum.’”
“Alright,” he brushed off the situation as if it were just some temporarily amusing mini game. The officer’s voice returned to its charming, calm tone, “I suppose you’ve figured out we’re NOT just here for tea.” One hand shifted to his holster as he almost tiredly drew his pistol. His arm raised and he pointed it directly at the woman in front of him. “Now…” Suddenly, his arm abruptly swung to the side, so his aim was no longer pointed at her but at Gramann instead. “Herr Gramann. Would you PLEASE get that irritating little wretch in the kitchen for me?”
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... and Kittens
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Posted: Dec 12th, 2007 at 12:46 am
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Natyashenka stood her ground as Gramann approached, even given his comment about.. proving himself? She clenched her teeth together, and though she stood proudly, there was fear in her eyes and then disgust. Lyaksandro, dear gods! His mother! The resolve on her face weakened a bit, but she was thankfully abruptly swept in closer behind Pavlushshenka by his protective arm. She pressed her face to the back of his shoulder as the other officer continued some terrible monologue. What the hell was going on? She didn't understand it, could possibly hope to.
Pavlushshenka just watched them both slightly agog. An anger was welling in him, but he was more sensible than his little brother, he remained silent and stoic, even in the face of the things that came to mind from Gramann's outburst. His jaw finally clenched too.
Would you PLEASE get that irritating little wretch in the kitchen for me?
Natyashenka seemed to come back to life like a clowork doll that had just been wound anew. She stepped out from behind Pavlushshenka before he could even think to and she darted to the kitchen door, closer to it than anyone else.
"No!" she shrieked, shrill as a banshee. It wasn't anger in her voice though now, it was fear, cold and terrifying, desperation. She dropped to her knees in the kitchen doorway in a classic begging pose. "No, no, please, not my baby, he's just.. he's just an infant, he's only one, please, no, leave him be." Hysteria had somehow crept into her voice in the blink of an eye and as Gramann approached the door, from her knees, she grabbed a hold of his hand, peering up at him like the worshiper of a terrible and tyrannous god. "No, please, please, not my baby, no, no!" Her grip was like a vice, a crazed mother. Wild horses couldn't have dragged her off of him. Her eyes were lit with utterly mad desperation. "No, no, no, no!" She kept repeating over and over. Tears finally came spilling over her porcelain cheeks. "I'll do anything... anything. Just don't touch my baby." She looked at beseechingly.
Pavlushshenka came to life too in this time, like someone hit a switch, and the anger he'd bitten back shined through as brightly as it did in his younger brother. He went for Gramann like a feral beast, sending a powerful right hook into the side of the man's head with a grunt of pure intent, his eyes lit by the fires of hell.
"You can't have him, get out!" he bellowed angrily. Boris started shrieking in the other room, a terrible meaningful cry, like the cry of a baby at an emergency room. Life seemed to erupt into chaos.
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Posted: Dec 12th, 2007 at 01:18 am
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The last thing in the world he wanted to do was obey Scherer, but Gramann knew that the other officer wouldn't hesitate to shoot him. Scherer's tricky little 'gift' had made it so Scherer could punish Gunnar however he wanted to with no consequences. Gunnar stomped toward the kitchen, miserable and angry. He stepped around Natyashenka, ignoring her, until she grabbed hold of his hand. Gunnar glanced down in annoyance. Pitiful! He attempted to shake her off, but she clung like mad. It seemed the only way to dislodge her would be to break her wrist. Her desperation on behalf of her child was almost touching. Gunnar was already reaching for her, his free hand on her slender wrist, when he met her eyes and that damnable feeling of guilt made him hesitate.
He only halted for a second, but it was enough time for Pavlush to strike him. Gunnar staggered sideways with the force of the blow, nearly falling onto Natyashenka. He ripped his hand from hers and raised it to his temple, wonderingly. No blood, but his head was ringing. Well then. Gunnar straightened up slowly, his teeth bared as though he might bite. Scherer had beaten him senseless a number of times in the past couple of weeks. Against Scherer there could be no retaliation. Gunnar wasn't going to take this kind of abuse from some damn Slav, too. Without another word, he launched himself at Pavlush, sending the other man crashing to the floor. With a savage laugh, Gunnar proceeded to beat the man, landing several punches on Pavlushshenka's face. Gunnar stopped when he felt wetness on his fist.
The man got to his feet, looking curiously at his hand. Blood on his knuckles. Hmm. He turned to Natyashenka, licking the blood from his fingers thoughtfully. With a sudden movement he was behind her, grabbing hold of her arms. Oh, why hadn't he appreciated Scherer's gifts before? This was so SATISFYING! He hauled her up to her feet, twisting her arms up behind her forcefully and pulling her up close so that her back was against his chest. Gunnar leaned over her, his mouth beside her ear. "I saw the way you looked at me." His voice was a low growl. "You'll regret that." Still holding her pinned to him with an iron grip, Gramann marched her over to where Boris lay. He released her long enough to scoop the shrieking baby up in one arm and then grabbed her by the back of her neck. "Move or I'll kill you both." With his two captives in tow, Gramann returned to Scherer.
« Last Edited by
Gramann
Dec 12th, 2007 at 01:28 am »
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Scherer
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Posted: Dec 12th, 2007 at 03:46 pm
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This was just getting better and better. Garret folded his arms behind his back, strutting around the room, inspecting the rather bland interior design. All the while, some sort of chaos was going on in the kitchen. He could hear Gramann snarling about. Ah, music to his ears! Finally the man seemed to be growing some balls. How wonderful! He heard the group of flailing monkeys returning to the room and did an about face, beaming over at the hectic scene before him.
It seemed that Gunnar was at long last taking hold of his abilities. It was about time. All he’d been hearing for the past couple of weeks was whining and boohooing about the fact that he had to drink the officer’s blood. God forbid, he’d be even more batshit if he didn’t. Though, it was rather unusual, Gramann seemed to be taking a liking to OTHER people’s blood as well. Variety of flavors he supposed.
When Gramann had once more entered the room, he strode up to the other officer who was clinging dearly to his new found hostages. When he was about two feet away, Garret’s luger, which was now at his side, raised up once again. “I can’t stand the sound of screaming rodents,” he muttered, a solemn expression on his face.
He took another step forward, reaching under so the barrel was pressed up against the back of the infant’s head. The officer angled the pistol so it wouldn’t harm his beloved comrade, and hopefully not ricochet off the ceiling , then promptly pulled the trigger.
BANG.
He stepped back, tucking the gun away and brushing off his hands. “Well, now that that’s over with, I suppose I’ll have a cup of tea.”
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... and Kittens
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Posted: Dec 12th, 2007 at 11:30 pm
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There was a silence that followed the crack of the gun. A deafening silence like a period at the end of a great long sentence. That sentence had been "life as we know it."
Natyashenka froze, utterly mindless of the grip Gramann had on her. She had been terrified beyond all compare by the conduct of her captor, and had wrestled against him to try and snatch her child back. But now... now, her baby boy, her only child, her most beloved and most sacred thing in the whole world was... was... Blood and gore dripped lazily from his skull to the carpet below. Natyashenka drew in a great breath. He legs went out from under her and she collapsed to the floor.
Instantly the room was filled with -deafening- hysterical shrieks, the most tormented sounds of a damned soul. This was hell, and her voice was the shrieking of every tortured person there.
Pavlushshenka spluttered up a spray of blood where he lay, his mind struggling to come back to reality. He was aware of what just happened, but his body wouldn't communicate with his brain. He groaned and rolled over onto his side, staring wide-eyed at Natyashenka as she screamed like a banshee. Her hands were pressed to the sides of her face with great force, and there was no controlling the sounds that came from her mouth, no describing them. There were no words strong enough to do justice to the utter torment that spewed from her open mouth!
Pavlushshenka's gaze traveled up to the tiny form in Gramann's arm. The world spun violently all of a sudden, and a rush of prickly adrenaline shot through him, flushing his disfigured face with heat. His stomach dared to lurch, but it was minimal. He choked audibly as his throat closed against the reflex.
"No!" he sputtered, strangled. "No, no!" It was as if a cold winter breeze had flooded the room and was nipping at his fingers and toes, freezing his lungs with each breath, sharp and horrific! Natyashenka's wordless, inhuman shrieks were the whoop of the wind through the room, mournful beyond any possible comparison, it was as if she, and that sound, had become the all encompassing shriek of a burned and scorched earth crying out in lament and blood soaked fury!
« Last Edited by
Sebastian
Dec 12th, 2007 at 11:32 pm »
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Posted: Dec 13th, 2007 at 03:51 am
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Except for the anger, Gramann's mind was a blank. He had killed people without the slightest hesitation on Scherer's orders before. Now he wouldn't hesitate to go along with whatever sick plan Scherer had in mind. Before all that bad business with the Slav, Gunnar had obeyed out of respect. Now he obeyed out of fear. Fear was stronger. Gunnar didn't even flinch when the baby died in his arm, although something inside him recoiled in horror at the gore streaking his clothes. Gunnar released the woman and dropped the body, disgust overriding his cold rage.
Rather than blame Scherer, Gunnar turned his ire on the woman. Her caterwauling hurt his head more than the baby's had done. Gunnar no longer felt any sympathy for her. He reached down with one bloody hand and hauled her up to her feet. "Shut your mouth and pour the officer some tea, you stupid bitch," Gramann snarled, shoving her forward. That left the man. Still spitting and whimpering on the floor. Gunnar would have liked to kill him, but that would annoy Scherer. Annoying Scherer would be bad. Gunnar walked over and kicked the man hard in the ribs before returning to watch Natyashenka. His wrathful gaze promised pain if she gave him even the slightest excuse.
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Shut your pie hole - (Read 153 Times)
