Deals With The Devil: Our Purpose

The Types Of Freedom

I hadn't seen anything like it. The path leading up to the old and decrepit building was paved with debris. Large pillars of stone poked out from the grass, reminding me of how old everything was. There seemed to be a dark cloud looming over the abandoned building, causing dreary shadows to point directly towards us- or more specifically, Ricky. 'Don't worry...you can do this.' I coaxed, plopping my hands down on his shoulder comfortingly. His head hung with dread as everybody else ventured forth. Without saying anything else, I took Ricky's hand and led him through the front entrance.
Inside was an absolute massacre.
The floors were covered in starved corpses, each one laying in their own stale shit. The smell was overpowering, but only Devin and Chris had to cover their mouths. Each room was decorated with bodies, but only one room caught my eye. On the wall was many spatters of blood beside small words which had been scratched into the concrete. "Doomed to remember, begging to forget".
'I did that...' Ricky began, stepping on the bodies as if they weren't even there. He placed his fingertips on the wall, tracing each of the letters carved into it. 'I remember...'

'Lass mich gehen! Lass mich-'
'Halt den Mund, jüdischer Abschaum!' A guard screamed "shut your mouth, Jewish scum" at a young girl who was screaming "let me go" and trying to break free. Her clothes were completely ruined, tethered and ripped at the edges. Her hair was knotted and oily, skin bruised and torn. Sadly, compared to everybody else in the undocumented camp, she was fine.
The rest of us had been tested on, cut, assaulted, starved, beaten and tortured just for the fun of it.
The Nazi guard threw her onto the cold concrete, not caring about how the skin on her knee tore and blood began dripping out. She scrambled to her feet, trying to escape, but the guard had a large metal baton. They issued them out the day before, stating that it'd save the trouble of killing us. They also got Volkspistole pistols, which were quite popular among the German people at the time. 'Lass mich hier raus! Ich gehöre nicht zu diesen Leuten! Wo ist meine Mutter?'
"Let me out! I don't belong with these people! Where is my mother?" She screamed, shoving the guard. The room fell silent. The victims around me began to focus on the girl who dared to lay her hands upon the guard. She almost instantly realised her mistake and was struck with the metal baton. It bruised her flesh, broke her nose, even causing her to become disoriented. The beating forced her to fall to her back, twisting her ankle in the process.
'Das wird dich lehren, deine schmutzigen Hände nicht auf mich zu legen.'
"That will teach you not to lay your dirty hands on me." The guard spat before exiting the chamber, locking the door tightly behind him. The girl was left coughing and trembling on the ground, trying to remember where she was due to the physical pain in her head. I was sitting in the corner of the room, a spot everybody seemed to just accept as being mine. In my hand was my weeks' rations (aka a loaf of bread). It was all any of us ever got. If we ate it all too quickly, we'd starve for the rest of the week. Sometimes we had to steal the bread from the corpses of people who weren't disposed of. Nobody spoke to the girl, they all averted their gaze after the guard left. Slowly, I shut my eyes, focusing all my power onto the girl. I was able to put myself in her shoes, seeing the world through her eyes long enough to understand her.
It was a strange power I had, but I never questioned it. It was there, that's all I knew.
Slowly, I got to my feet, almost immediately falling due to how weak and boney I had become. However, I stayed up and swiftly made my way over to the girl. 'Sophie, du musst essen. Du wirst sterben, wenn du nichts isst.' I muttered.
"Sophie, you must eat. You'll die if you don't eat something."
She gazed up at me, almost as if she didn't believe I was truly there. Her big baby blue eyes were shrink wrapped in tears, jaw clenched and face puffy. 'Wer bist du? Woher weißt du meinen Namen?'
"Who are you? How do you know my name?"
'It doesn't-' I cut myself off, forgetting momentarily that nobody spoke English in this horrid place, not even the guards. 'Es spielt keine Rolle. Gerade-'
'You speak English?' The girls' eyes almost lit up at the realisation, so I decided to humour her.
'Yes. I was a soldier, but they do not know that. My name is Ricky, but the guards call me Maggot.'
'Why do they call you that?'
'I squirm like one.'