Blood Moon [a Twilight Saga FanFiction]

A Permanent Stench of Death

(Authors Note: I do not speak German; therefore anything that is said in German will be a full piece of dialogue written in English, in italics within quotation marks. Not to be confused with just a single word italicised amongst regular words, which is just an emphasised word.)
(TRIGGER WARNING: the following chapters consist of talks of Nazi Germany and the Jewish community, readers are advised to be mindful and skip these chapters if the topic/s are sensitive for you)

EXISTENCE SEEMED TO BECOME A CONSTANT REPEAT OF WORRY, fear, thirst and planning. How would we know when was the right time to kill Adolf Hitler? How would we kill him? Poison as Aro used to cover up the death in the last timeline? 
     The war started to become more intense, even in Germany. Igor was always carrying around some sort of weapon. Then the curfew was implemented, which none of us was very fond of, it was the only time we could seem human.
     It was a year after our dinner with... him, that Igor returned home late at night wearing a sullen look.
     He hung up his gun and coat as usual, before closing the door. Giving me ample time to catch his scent and learn of what was making him so glum.
     "We're moving," I stated as he closed the door behind him, his heavy eyes on me.
     Verity was in the other room, and she didn't approach us. Though I wasn't sure why. I had been sure she'd have wanted to know our futures.
     "There is no way around it, Miss Elizabeth. I am truly sorry," Igor said softly. He approached me and rested his head on mine.
     "I know."
     "Where are we going?" Verity asked as she finally walked into the foyer with us.
     I looked deep into Igor's defeated eyes. The last year had not been easy on his control for the desires for justice, the protection of our future, and blood.
     "I'm being moved to camp," Igor began to explain, but it seemed to be all Verity needed.
     "Oh."

At the camp, Igor would be second in command, which meant a lot of dinners we wouldn't eat and a lot of pretending to be following the rules of a man we're planning to kill.
     The short plane trib was unbearably long. We could have run to Poland and it would have been faster. But when we reached the air station and got in our escorted car to our new home, one of many houses lines up on a single road, none of us really wanted to get out.
     Igor was the first to step out of the car, pushing the scents of our new home into the car to Verity and me.
     "Oh!" she gasped but then immediately groaned, covering her nose. "I hate it."
    I had stopped the airflow to my own lungs when I had smelt the gaseous, burning flesh in the distance.
     We walked into our new house and immediately closed all the windows and blinds. It was a job for Verity and me as Igor had to get to the camp. I hated thinking of what was going on not a minute run from where we were, but I knew it would something I would have to endure, for the future. We would eventually avenge all those burning souls. We would make him suffer for it, I could promise them that.

I had become accustomed to not breathing on the rare occasions I was outside. I didn't like losing one of my senses, but it was easier to handle than the constant smell of death lingering in the air. Verity, however, wasn't so lucky. Unlike Igor and I, she had to breathe and I witnessed the sight of her cringing and quickly hiding a new expression of disgust and anger, every time she went outside.
     The other soldiers and their families quickly also got used to our quirks. Always being covered up head to toe during the day, hardly ever going out in the sunlight. None of them cared enough to look closely into our strange behaviour, as Igor was still working, just fully covered. Then there were the instances of soldiers coming over for meals.
     But there was one boy, hardly old enough to be a soldier, who had been transferred to the camp the week after us and strangely, and annoyingly, enjoyed spending time at our home with Verity.
    One day, I was painting in our library when he visited.
     "What are you doing here?" Verity had asked when she opened the door.
     "I just wanted to check on you," Johann had answered. "I know how the lingering smell can get to a lady."
     "Shouldn't you be working?"
     "Probably," Johann's answer almost sounded nervous. "But I will tell your brother that I was just checking on you."
     I almost smiled at the idea of Igor hearing that Johann was over, visiting Verity, without him home. Though Verity was pretending to be Igor's younger sister, he still was understandably protective. I had noticed that it got worse when it involved boys.
     "He'll kill you," Verity had warned him appropriately.
     I had taken that moment to leave the library. They were still in the foyer and I had to walk through the foyer to get to my fake location, the kitchen.
     Johann Roehm stood at near attention when he saw that Verity wasn't alone. His eyes were plastered on me, his heart racing when I walked behind him, close enough that he'd feel my dress. 
     I knew Johann was attracted to me, all human men were. But he knew I was a married woman and kept his feelings to himself, especially when I behaved like that and I triggered more his natural instincts to be terrified than aroused.
     Neither of them spoke as I retrieved my glass of water and walked past them again to return to the library. Johann was starting to sweat in his nerves.
     "Your sister is terrifying," Johann confessed once I closed the door to the library.
     Verity had laughed at him, and I almost had joined her.
     The closeness of Johann was annoying, but more so for Igor.
     "It's not like that, okay?" Verity had attempted to argue with her father, yet again, the night after his visit. "Mother, you know. He's just a friend, which is nice to have, considering."
     "Does Roehm feel the same?" Igor asked.
     Verity looked at me with a look pleaded for assistance.
     "His future comes nowhere near ours when we leave here," Verity pushed comes. "He is not involved in our futures outside this hell."
     "Just because we know he considers you a friend," I had said for input. "Does not mean we have to like it."
     "Maybe I will have a word with Roehm tomorrow," Igor muttered.
     "Don't scare the boy, Dad. He's just a kid," Verity argued.
     Igor smirked his half-smile that made me know that he was fully aware of everything and he really was only just playing around. He trusted us entirely. And when Verity smiled back and hugged her father, I knew everything was well.
     A week later, something different happened. We heard that Johann's older brother was joining the camp. The day after he arrived, was fuelled with panic.
     It all started when I could hear the chugging of the car, being pushed too fast for its engine, coming towards the houses. I had been drawing, she had been practising her piano skills. We both stopped when the car stopped in front of our home, and I heard the panic-stricken, feared, racing, weakening heart.
     "Verity, clear the table," I had quickly ordered.
     "What are we doing here, Farkas?" a soldier I didn't recognise the voice of, yelled at my husband. "We have to get him to-"
     "Believe me," Igor almost hissed. "This is the best place he's got for now!"
     Igor kicked the door open, careful to not knock it off its hinges, carrying a boy looking rather similar to Johann Roehm. Though immediately, I knew that Claus Roehm did not have a very good first day at work.
     He was bleeding from his thigh and chest. He was screaming. And Igor's eyes were a very deep black.
     "Table," I ordered and rushed at a painful human pace to get my kit. "Hello, officer," I spoke calmly to Claus Roehm. Though his heart merely skipped a few beats when he saw me. "This is going to hurt. Igor, give me your belt. Verity, hold it around his thigh."
     I would have asked Igor to help with the small task, but I was worried about his level of thirst. I hadn't been able to properly catch Igor's scent since he was carrying in Claus and all I had been able to smell was the blood.
     Verity was quick to act and followed my orders and more so.
     I had to work quickly, the bleeding was heavy but not manageable. Igor ushered the other soldiers out of the room, including Johann who I could pinpoint out of the small crowd because of his racing, anxious heart. He did seem like a good kid. Too good for war.
     I focused on my patient. I had to clean the wound sights. While cleaning, I had him muffled by biting into a dishrag, as the alcohol was burning on his raw skin.
    I was slightly impressed by the young Jewish man who had done this to him. So against his peaceful culture, but I understood also. War brought out the worst in some people, and his brothers and sisters were being burnt like candles not a mile away from him.
     There was nothing too bad about Claus Roehm's wounds, they just needed a good clean and thorough, detailed suturing.
     Once that was done, I cleaned my hands and while Verity cleaned the kitchen, I approached Igor and the other soldiers. Igor and Johann had been sitting on the settee, the others were all admiring my artwork.
     Johann stood when I approached, his worried, anxious eyes filled with held back tears for his brother.
     "He will be fine, Johann," I said softly. "He's resting now. I recommend he be sent back home to heal properly." Johann nodded and looked as if he was about to sit back down. "You can see him if you want."
     Johann quickly dashed out of the room. I thought it was so pure, so innocent that he cared for his brother so intensely when his brother had only abused him and called him not a real man, and used him as target practice throughout their childhood. His brother was like their father, cruel, controlling and borderline narcissistic. Johann was the polar opposite, I found myself wishing that he or his brother had spent more time with their mother, so I could learn where Johann got his kindness from.
     "Thank you," Igor said to me.
     I smiled down to him and kissed the top of his head. I felt him wince under me. Ah, I had not properly cleaned myself yet and he was thirsty.
     "I should go help clean up," I said more of an explanation to the other soldiers.
     The moment I had walked back into the kitchen, the soldiers began asking Igor about me. How did I know English? How did I know medicine? Where did I learn medicine? Why did I know English? And all that jazz.
     I knew I was going to become a topic of further whisperings. I didn't have to haver Verity's uncanny future readings to know that.