Auschwitz - COMPLETE
folder
Singers/Bands/Musicians › HIM
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
24
Views:
2,675
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Singers/Bands/Musicians › HIM
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
24
Views:
2,675
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of HIM. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
10
Bam
As I returned home that night, I discovered a pile of boxes waiting for me. They were from April. I opened one of them with a sigh, inside, were all my clothes, blinking back the tears, I moved on to the next box. My books, both from school and ones I'd read. The next box, my childhood toys, and the next contained other bits and pieces I'd left at the house. I felt hot tears drip down my face as I looked through my possessions. It only reminded me further of my mother disowning me.
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..." I groan as my demons com back to haunt me. They. Are. In. My. Head. I unlock my door and begin to move my things inside, only to have something small and fluffy bound over to me and attack my legs. I drop the box in my hands in surprise and look down.
"Scrap!" I cry as I spot my 6 month old puppy. Hes grown a bit since the last time I saw him, but he's still the dog I remember. He's a black Labrador with as much energy as me when I was a child. He barks at me as I greet him and ruffle his fur. He remembers me! Thank god! As I continue to bring my belongings in, he circles my feet, and looks happily up at me, barking every time he wants a scratch behind the ear. He seems to distract me from the voices in my head, so I'm only to happy to go along with his attention seeking ways.
Finally, an hour later and I'm finally unpacked, and I can relax. After feeding Scrap, I settle myself down to listen to the radio, Scrap bounds over and settles himself in my lap as I tune into the news as I stoke his ear. He falls asleep in my lap as an advert plays and the news begins.
"Today is Germany Brandon Margera kills even more innocent Jews..." WHAT! What the hell was that! Scared, I tune into the next station. My hand is shaking as I turn the knob.
"Brandon Margera, mass murder, is on the run from the law yet again..." What the hell is going on? I must be hearing things! Again I change the station.
"10,000 innocent life's have been taking by master criminal Brandon Cole Margera...."
"I'VE DONE NOTHIG WRONG! SHUT UP! ITS NOT TRUE! I DIDN'T WANT TO KILL ANYONE!" I cry. I go to turn the radio off, but the second the power dies, the voices fill my head again.
"MURDERER....MURDERER....MURDERER..." I close my eyes and hold my head in my hands, knowing full well what I'll see if I dare to look up. I feel their eyes on me, but still I refuse to look up.
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..."
"I'm not looking up! Your all in my head! I'm not listening..." I whisper. Still I feel the eyes of the dead burning into me.
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..." Finally, I give in and look up, if only to make them stop. The dead seem to have multiplied. Instead of 1000, there seem to be 10,000 in front of me. Men, women, children, as pale as chalk with eyes as wide as saucers. They look so thin, that I believed if I touched them, they'd snap in two. They came towards me, still chanting.
"GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!" I cry, scaring Scrap. He whimpers, leaps from my lap and runs out the room. I back into a corner as the dead engulf me.
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..." They chant. As soon as they surround me, I bolt upstairs and lock myself in the bathroom. I sigh in relief as I lean back against the door, but gasp in shock as I see myself in the mirror. I look like the dead...I'm pale..thin... Yet when I feel my face, and look at my arms, they look normal.
"Your going crazy Bam..." I mutter to myself as I sink to the floor and try to push the image to the back of my head.
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..." I hear from the other side of the door. I gulp as a familiar feeling seeps over my hands. I look down to see them dripping in blood. Its not real! Its in my head! Yet why can I feel Its warmth? Why can I feel its moist, sticky texture? The crimson liquid drips steadily to the floor, creating a puddle at my feet. I rush to the sink and scrub my hands.
"Must get rid of it...must get rid of it..." I say as I do. As the water runs clear, and I find my hands once again red raw I feel a damp sensation on my arm. Rolling up my sleeve, I see the word 'Murderer' carved perfectly into my skin. Blood steadily oozes from it, and, as I touch it, I know its real. I cry out and run from the bathroom, collapsing out the door as I struggle to open it without pain erupting through my damaged hands. The hallway is empty, and, as I tumble to the floor, razor in hand, I realize that I am the one that carved my sins into my skin. I just don't remember doing it...
Getting to my feet, I noticed writing on the walls. Written over and over again, in different sizes, angles and writing styles is the word 'Murderer' written in blood. Each letter steadily drips, like fresh paint that has been applied to quickly. Shaking, I run downstairs, and on every wall, the same message can be seen, again and again. In
every room, on every wall, the word 'Murderer' is written on the wall in blood. I decide to find Scrap and high tail it out of there. I find him under the table, his head dropped, his tail motionless.
"Come here boy," I say to him. He looks at me and growls. Its as if he doesn't recognize me. I reach out to stoke him, but he snaps at me, tries to bite my fingers. I pull them back in fear, yet he continues to growl at me.
"MURDERER..." He barks at me, in time with the voices. What the hell? I am out of here! Scared for my life, I run out of the door, and I continue to run, to god knows where, until I pass out. The last thing I hear is,
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..."
Ville
Through the fence I see her. The woman I was forced to rape. She looks so vulnerable...scared. She's curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth. I gingerly approach the fencing that separates us.
"Hanna...?" She looks up, shocked. I gasp at her appearance. She's so pale, thin. She looks as if she were about to drop dead at any minute. Despite all this, she smiles at me.
"Hi Ville," She says beaming. I smile and close to the barbed wire, so we can feel each others body heat. "How are you?" She asks. I shrug.
"How can you be in a place like this? I'm coping though, if that's what you mean..." I mumble. She nods, then breaks down in tears.
"Their going to kill me soon, I know it!" She cries. "Their going to find out soon enough, and then I'll have no choice but to die!" Her voice gets higher and higher at every word.
"Why darling? Whats wrong? It can't be that bad!" I say, trying to think of what might be wrong. Is she ill? Is she involved with a guard? Has she insulted a guard? Or worse? She doesnt answer, only sobs harder. "Darling please.." I beg, I don't know why I wish to know, but some how, I feel connected to her, especially after what happened.
"I'm...I'm...pregnant..." She confesses. Pregnant! Now I was not expecting that! Wait..
"Is it...mine?" I ask. She nods. Oh god...I'm going to be a father...in here! That is, if Hanna and the unborn baby survive. Suddenly, I get the strongest parental instincts. I want this child to survive...no matter what!
"Are you sure..?" I ask. Another nod, she seems lost for words. She rests her hand on her stomach fondly, clearly loving the life inside of her. Carefully, I reach through the barbed wire and touch her stomach. She smiles at the gesture.
"I was raped by a guard, that's the only other sexually contact I've had besides you. I know it can't be his...he's infertile, I heard him tell another guard. I'm sorry to drop this on you here, but its your right to know..." She whispers.
"No..its ok...you've given me even more reason to live. We're going to survive, I promise you..." I whisper, taking Hanna's hand. Although I don't love her, and am not attracted to her in that way, she is still s friend, and I will help her, and our child survive. No matter what.
Later that day, I stand in line for the washrooms with my father. He refuses to talk to me at first, and the icy silence is too much to bear.
"Daddy please...talk to me! You can't block me out forever!" I mutter madly, tugging at his arm. He simply pulls it away. "Is this about Momma..tell me dad...please, I have ever right to know!"
"Son, its nothing, leave it!" He says angrily. I'm shocked at his reaction. He never snaps at me. Its this place, I know it!
"Father please, stop being so immature! Tell me what you know about mom!" I plead. He sighs. I think I've cracked him.
"Fine you want to know?" He snaps. I nod. "We got divorced. Before we were sent to Treblinka! The only reason we escaped together is because we both wanted to live and we helped each other!" Oh god...divorce. My parents? But..NO! IT CAN'T BE TRUE. They are so in love! Back home, they couldn't keep their hands off each other!
"What! W-why? It can't be true, your lying to me dad, stop lying to me!" I cry, tears falling from my eyes. My father makes no attempt to comfort me, in fact, he looks ashamed to be standing next to me.
"Well it is, so deal with it!" He says harshly. I wipe my eyes furiously, and turn away from my father. For a few seconds, we stand in a bitter silence, until I hear him sob. "They made us Poika...because she is a Jew and I am not! When we refused, they shipped us to Treblinka and divorced us anyway. I just want to hold her poika...I miss her so much..." He cries. His out burst scares me, but I turn and hug him nevertheless.
"Oh daddy, I'm sorry...I promise you, we are going to get out of here! I'm going to make sure of it! And we will see mother again, I promise!" I say. My father doesn't respond, he simply collapses in my arms and sobs.
Bam doesn't find me today, and I don't know why? Have I done something wrong? I'm sure I haven't. It must be because he's realised who I am. A dirty filthy Jew. Stupid, scum of the earth. He doesn't want me, and I'm never going to see him again. Suddenly, I lose all will to live.
As I returned home that night, I discovered a pile of boxes waiting for me. They were from April. I opened one of them with a sigh, inside, were all my clothes, blinking back the tears, I moved on to the next box. My books, both from school and ones I'd read. The next box, my childhood toys, and the next contained other bits and pieces I'd left at the house. I felt hot tears drip down my face as I looked through my possessions. It only reminded me further of my mother disowning me.
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..." I groan as my demons com back to haunt me. They. Are. In. My. Head. I unlock my door and begin to move my things inside, only to have something small and fluffy bound over to me and attack my legs. I drop the box in my hands in surprise and look down.
"Scrap!" I cry as I spot my 6 month old puppy. Hes grown a bit since the last time I saw him, but he's still the dog I remember. He's a black Labrador with as much energy as me when I was a child. He barks at me as I greet him and ruffle his fur. He remembers me! Thank god! As I continue to bring my belongings in, he circles my feet, and looks happily up at me, barking every time he wants a scratch behind the ear. He seems to distract me from the voices in my head, so I'm only to happy to go along with his attention seeking ways.
Finally, an hour later and I'm finally unpacked, and I can relax. After feeding Scrap, I settle myself down to listen to the radio, Scrap bounds over and settles himself in my lap as I tune into the news as I stoke his ear. He falls asleep in my lap as an advert plays and the news begins.
"Today is Germany Brandon Margera kills even more innocent Jews..." WHAT! What the hell was that! Scared, I tune into the next station. My hand is shaking as I turn the knob.
"Brandon Margera, mass murder, is on the run from the law yet again..." What the hell is going on? I must be hearing things! Again I change the station.
"10,000 innocent life's have been taking by master criminal Brandon Cole Margera...."
"I'VE DONE NOTHIG WRONG! SHUT UP! ITS NOT TRUE! I DIDN'T WANT TO KILL ANYONE!" I cry. I go to turn the radio off, but the second the power dies, the voices fill my head again.
"MURDERER....MURDERER....MURDERER..." I close my eyes and hold my head in my hands, knowing full well what I'll see if I dare to look up. I feel their eyes on me, but still I refuse to look up.
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..."
"I'm not looking up! Your all in my head! I'm not listening..." I whisper. Still I feel the eyes of the dead burning into me.
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..." Finally, I give in and look up, if only to make them stop. The dead seem to have multiplied. Instead of 1000, there seem to be 10,000 in front of me. Men, women, children, as pale as chalk with eyes as wide as saucers. They look so thin, that I believed if I touched them, they'd snap in two. They came towards me, still chanting.
"GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!" I cry, scaring Scrap. He whimpers, leaps from my lap and runs out the room. I back into a corner as the dead engulf me.
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..." They chant. As soon as they surround me, I bolt upstairs and lock myself in the bathroom. I sigh in relief as I lean back against the door, but gasp in shock as I see myself in the mirror. I look like the dead...I'm pale..thin... Yet when I feel my face, and look at my arms, they look normal.
"Your going crazy Bam..." I mutter to myself as I sink to the floor and try to push the image to the back of my head.
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..." I hear from the other side of the door. I gulp as a familiar feeling seeps over my hands. I look down to see them dripping in blood. Its not real! Its in my head! Yet why can I feel Its warmth? Why can I feel its moist, sticky texture? The crimson liquid drips steadily to the floor, creating a puddle at my feet. I rush to the sink and scrub my hands.
"Must get rid of it...must get rid of it..." I say as I do. As the water runs clear, and I find my hands once again red raw I feel a damp sensation on my arm. Rolling up my sleeve, I see the word 'Murderer' carved perfectly into my skin. Blood steadily oozes from it, and, as I touch it, I know its real. I cry out and run from the bathroom, collapsing out the door as I struggle to open it without pain erupting through my damaged hands. The hallway is empty, and, as I tumble to the floor, razor in hand, I realize that I am the one that carved my sins into my skin. I just don't remember doing it...
Getting to my feet, I noticed writing on the walls. Written over and over again, in different sizes, angles and writing styles is the word 'Murderer' written in blood. Each letter steadily drips, like fresh paint that has been applied to quickly. Shaking, I run downstairs, and on every wall, the same message can be seen, again and again. In
every room, on every wall, the word 'Murderer' is written on the wall in blood. I decide to find Scrap and high tail it out of there. I find him under the table, his head dropped, his tail motionless.
"Come here boy," I say to him. He looks at me and growls. Its as if he doesn't recognize me. I reach out to stoke him, but he snaps at me, tries to bite my fingers. I pull them back in fear, yet he continues to growl at me.
"MURDERER..." He barks at me, in time with the voices. What the hell? I am out of here! Scared for my life, I run out of the door, and I continue to run, to god knows where, until I pass out. The last thing I hear is,
"MURDERER...MURDERER...MURDERER..."
Ville
Through the fence I see her. The woman I was forced to rape. She looks so vulnerable...scared. She's curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth. I gingerly approach the fencing that separates us.
"Hanna...?" She looks up, shocked. I gasp at her appearance. She's so pale, thin. She looks as if she were about to drop dead at any minute. Despite all this, she smiles at me.
"Hi Ville," She says beaming. I smile and close to the barbed wire, so we can feel each others body heat. "How are you?" She asks. I shrug.
"How can you be in a place like this? I'm coping though, if that's what you mean..." I mumble. She nods, then breaks down in tears.
"Their going to kill me soon, I know it!" She cries. "Their going to find out soon enough, and then I'll have no choice but to die!" Her voice gets higher and higher at every word.
"Why darling? Whats wrong? It can't be that bad!" I say, trying to think of what might be wrong. Is she ill? Is she involved with a guard? Has she insulted a guard? Or worse? She doesnt answer, only sobs harder. "Darling please.." I beg, I don't know why I wish to know, but some how, I feel connected to her, especially after what happened.
"I'm...I'm...pregnant..." She confesses. Pregnant! Now I was not expecting that! Wait..
"Is it...mine?" I ask. She nods. Oh god...I'm going to be a father...in here! That is, if Hanna and the unborn baby survive. Suddenly, I get the strongest parental instincts. I want this child to survive...no matter what!
"Are you sure..?" I ask. Another nod, she seems lost for words. She rests her hand on her stomach fondly, clearly loving the life inside of her. Carefully, I reach through the barbed wire and touch her stomach. She smiles at the gesture.
"I was raped by a guard, that's the only other sexually contact I've had besides you. I know it can't be his...he's infertile, I heard him tell another guard. I'm sorry to drop this on you here, but its your right to know..." She whispers.
"No..its ok...you've given me even more reason to live. We're going to survive, I promise you..." I whisper, taking Hanna's hand. Although I don't love her, and am not attracted to her in that way, she is still s friend, and I will help her, and our child survive. No matter what.
Later that day, I stand in line for the washrooms with my father. He refuses to talk to me at first, and the icy silence is too much to bear.
"Daddy please...talk to me! You can't block me out forever!" I mutter madly, tugging at his arm. He simply pulls it away. "Is this about Momma..tell me dad...please, I have ever right to know!"
"Son, its nothing, leave it!" He says angrily. I'm shocked at his reaction. He never snaps at me. Its this place, I know it!
"Father please, stop being so immature! Tell me what you know about mom!" I plead. He sighs. I think I've cracked him.
"Fine you want to know?" He snaps. I nod. "We got divorced. Before we were sent to Treblinka! The only reason we escaped together is because we both wanted to live and we helped each other!" Oh god...divorce. My parents? But..NO! IT CAN'T BE TRUE. They are so in love! Back home, they couldn't keep their hands off each other!
"What! W-why? It can't be true, your lying to me dad, stop lying to me!" I cry, tears falling from my eyes. My father makes no attempt to comfort me, in fact, he looks ashamed to be standing next to me.
"Well it is, so deal with it!" He says harshly. I wipe my eyes furiously, and turn away from my father. For a few seconds, we stand in a bitter silence, until I hear him sob. "They made us Poika...because she is a Jew and I am not! When we refused, they shipped us to Treblinka and divorced us anyway. I just want to hold her poika...I miss her so much..." He cries. His out burst scares me, but I turn and hug him nevertheless.
"Oh daddy, I'm sorry...I promise you, we are going to get out of here! I'm going to make sure of it! And we will see mother again, I promise!" I say. My father doesn't respond, he simply collapses in my arms and sobs.
Bam doesn't find me today, and I don't know why? Have I done something wrong? I'm sure I haven't. It must be because he's realised who I am. A dirty filthy Jew. Stupid, scum of the earth. He doesn't want me, and I'm never going to see him again. Suddenly, I lose all will to live.