So…my draft has finally started…and I’d like some thoughts so far! :D

Home Page Forums Fiction Writing Critiques Novel Critique Requests So…my draft has finally started…and I’d like some thoughts so far! :D

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  • #122776
    Anonymous
      • Rank: Chosen One
      • Total Posts: 8156

      @arien.

      I know I’m late to the party but . . .

      AHH THIS IS SO GOOD! Great job, girl!😊😊

      AHHH!!! THANK YOU!!!! <3333

      The chapters did seem kinda short, but the writing is good!

      Yeah…I did notice they seemed kinda short…XD My chapters can be sometimes, but then again, I also have chapters that are really long…it always depends. XD But thank you!!! 😀

      maybe Riker’s seeming a little too nice for so early in the book? And though he is feeling conflicted, maybe it’s not quite enough? He seems like a good guy in the wrong place, not a guy trying to figure out what’s good or bad.

      I can see what you and @mineralizedwritings mean. 🙂 I’d love to explain what happens…but that would be spoilers, so…we all must wait…somewhat patiently…XD

      But I don’t know what you’re going for, maybe that’s what you want!

      Not gonna lie…I like how everyone is feeling conflicted about Riker. XD

      Overall, great job! I want to read more! 😍😊❤️

      Thank you sooo much!!! <333 I may try to get more written today for this book, fingers crossed! XD

      #122953
      Anonymous
        • Rank: Chosen One
        • Total Posts: 8156

        @loopylin. @mineralizedwritings. @theloonyone. @elishavet-pidyon. @koshka. @godlyfantasy12. @arien. @lightoverdarkness6.

        If y’all didn’t read chapter 1-3, don’t read this yet!!! But…I have Chapter 4…hehehe…XD

        Chapter 4

        “They’re so beautiful…” Aadelheide whispered, watching their three sleeping children.

        Leon nodded, as the faint moonlight filtering in through a grimy window lit his wife’s face.

        They were waiting for Ezekiel to arrive with the people who would take their kids to the family that was taking them in.

        The couple would pretend Isabel, Albert, and Elias were their own, and Leon and Aadelheide’s kids would be safe. That’s what mattered most.

        Leon leaned against the wall as Aadelheide relaxed in his arms. Leon wrapped his arms around his wife, holding her close. “It will be quiet with them gone…”

        Leon smiled faintly and kissed his wife’s hair. “We’ll see them once the war’s over…they’ll be safe.”

        “I know…” Aadelheide whispered, before suddenly coming out of his arms, turning around to face him instead. “Leon, I need you to promise me something.”

        “Anything, Aadelheide.” And he meant it. One hundred percent.

        “If I don’t make it out of the war alive-“

        “Aadelheide, please, I don’t want to think about that.” Leon murmured, moving to kiss her.

        Aadelheide pulled away. “Leon, if I don’t make it out of this war alive, I need you to promise me that you will raise our kids well, to know God, and to love and forgive…even our enemies.”

        Leon sighed. “Aadelheide, please…”

        Aadelheide squeezed his hand tight. “Promise me. Please.”

        Leon stared into her bright blue, soft, pleading eyes. He nodded. “I promise.”

        Aadelheide slowly nodded. Smiled. “Thank you.” She once again leaned into Leon’s embrace, and he wrapped his arms around her again.

        Aadelheide looked up at him. “I love you, Leon, dearly.”

        Leon smiled. “I love you more.”

        Aadelheide smiled and kissed his jaw. “No matter what happens, promise me that you will hold onto faith…and forgive, no matter what happens. No matter who could hurt you.”

        “Aadelheide, please, let’s leave these thoughts.”

        Aadelheide’s thumbs rested on his lips. “Shh…Leon, I need you to promise me this too.”

        He hated the thought of any of that happening. But he also wanted to make sure his wife was happy.

        Leon leaned down towards his wife. “I promise.”

        Aadelheide almost opened her mouth, but her words were not spoken, instead lost in a kiss.

        ~*~

        Riker straightened his pitch-black uniform.

        He slicked his dark brown wavy hair back, putting his black SS cap on overtop, covering most of his hair.

        He slipped the swastika armband over his left sleeve, before studying himself in the mirror.

        The moonlight glinted off of his left cheek, glinted off the thin scar there, and Riker turned away.

        ‘All I got was you…and you will never be enough.’

        He was expected at the prison in only a half hour.

        But until then, he was free.

        Riker slipped his wedding ring back onto his finger, as an envelope slid off the mahogany dresser beside the mirror onto the floor.

        Riker bent to grab it, as three pieces of paper fell out of it.

        Papers covered in crayon drawings, two of which were not more than scribbles.

        Riker smiled and picked them up, studying them.

        The letter also slipped out of the envelope, and he studied all four.

        His vision suddenly blurred, and he set the pieces back down on the dresser, wiping away the tears.

        ‘That boy’s too soft. He needs some toughening up.’

        ‘Don’t you worry, Heinrich, I’ll be sure to do just that.’

        Riker took another quick glance at the mirror, making sure his eyes were clear.

        He remembered his last visit home. Jonathan and Naja had both asked…almost begged…him to stay home, with them and Eli and Mama.

        And the sadness in their eyes when Riker said he couldn’t…Riker forced tears back into his head. It was where they belonged, as he’d been reminded many times.

        Riker once again made sure his eyes were clear, just as the door opened and Erich strode in, chin held high. “Good evening, Riker. Are you almost ready?”

        “Almost. Did you go to see Ellie and Abel?”

        Erich nodded. “I did.”

        “Are they doing well?”

        “Yes, they are. Abel is growing. Growing fast.”

        Riker smiled and straightened his cap again. Erich was a proud father, same as Riker was.

        “I’m glad to hear your family is well. Now, I’m ready. Are we leaving?”

        Erich’s smile suddenly faded. He closed the door. “Actually, Riker, not quite. There’s…something we need to talk about. Take a seat.”

        Riker silently obeyed, even though it was his own room, and Erich stood in front of him.

        “Ezra Roberts, the stubborn American pilot…a few days ago…his wounds were suddenly treated. None of the guards reported having seen anyone, which was odd, so, I dug deeper.” He smirked.

        Riker merely nodded.

        “And…well…one of them had seen something, but he didn’t say anything because you were an officer, which, for most, would be a smart move-“

        “What did you do to him?”

        Erich’s eyes narrowed. “Do not interrupt me. I have done nothing to the man and don’t plan to. He didn’t do anything wrong…you did. I haven’t told Hans yet, but I know that you helped Lieutenant Roberts and treated his injuries. We were very close to getting information out of him, and you, Riker, ruined that.”

        “What did I-“

        “I just told you to not interrupt. Listen, Riker, I know you’ve worked hard for this position…your Lieutenant rank, same as I have. And I’d hate for all of that hard work to be thrown away, so…you must promise me two things, and I won’t tell Hans.”

        Riker closed his eyes.

        Promises to keep his job? His position? To stop him from being released and drafted into the Wehrmacht…?

        “…What are they…?”

        Erich smiled. “I knew you were smarter than you looked. First, you must promise to not interfere with our interrogations. That means no treating Ezra or anyone else’s wounds and not even speaking with them unless you are the one handling the interrogation. And two, Riker, you must promise me that you will…do something for me. You must gather information on the many prisoners we have, especially the ones that are bound for Prisoner of War camps. You will collect the information, and-“

        “You want me to handle interrogations?”

        “Stop interrupting, or I’ll tell Hans exactly what you did. And no, you won’t interrogate. You will just…listen and give me the information you gather. Call it…spying if you will. But any and every information you get that would be important for me to know, you tell me, understood?”

        Riker merely glanced at him. Not a nod, only a glance. “And you won’t tell Hans what I did…? That’s what you’ll give me?”

        “Yes.”

        Riker bit the inside of his cheek, the thoughts pounding against each other inside of his head.

        To keep his job and his position? By spying and not helping men that needed it?

        “If I do this for you…you won’t tell Hans about me helping Ezra?”

        Erich grinned and nodded. “Yes. And you can keep your job and your rank. So, Riker…do we have a deal?”

        #122960
        GodlyFantasy12
        @godlyfantasy12
          • Rank: Chosen One
          • Total Posts: 6645

          @freedomwriter76 😭 oh Riker….

           

          sigh Erich…but it’s ok I still luv u

          #IfMarcelDiesIRiot
          #ProtectMarcel
          #ProtectSeb

          #122962
          Light
          @lightoverdarkness6
            • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
            • Total Posts: 1626

            @freedomwriter76

            UGHHH RIKER!!!! PRECIOUS RIKER!! I LOVE HIM!!!

            OH, and GREAT cliffhanger ;). I’m dying to know what happens!!

            #HugRikerSquad

            #122964
            Koshka
            @koshka
              • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
              • Total Posts: 1424

              @freedomwriter76

              Great chapter!

              Um, here’s a thought from another side of things. Maybe don’t use it here, but it could be useful later? I don’t know.

              There are other perfectly accurate ways to cover what Ruler has done, one of which I believe would work quite well. Instead of trying to hide it, have him say something like, “there are many ways to gather information. Pain, yes. But trust also. You keep to your part, and I’ll do mine. We’ll see who gets information first.”

              Anyway, that was a random idea, and you certainly don’t have to use it. Again, I love your books, and shall impatiently wait for the next chapter.

              First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)

              #122989
              Anonymous
                • Rank: Chosen One
                • Total Posts: 8156

                @godlyfantasy12. @koshka. @lightoverdarkness6. AHHH!!! Thank y’all for all the kind words!!! <333

                And Koshka, thank you for that!!! I added that in, about to show y’all, cause I have the next chapter already, lol, and it makes it so much better, and oh…actually gives Riker a little bit of humor in what he says. XDXDXD

                Anywho…XD


                @loopylin
                . @mineralizedwritings. @theloonyone. @elishavet-pidyon. @koshka. @godlyfantasy12. @arien. @lightoverdarkness6.

                And y’all…because of all of y’all’s encouragement, I’ve officially reached 37 pages in my draft of this book. 

                Thank y’all so much. 😭

                Chapter 5

                Their kids were safe with the family.

                Ezekiel had sent the two of them a secret note, telling them that their kids were in safe hands and doing well.

                So, in much quieter quarters, life continued.

                Leon continued to work at the Wehrmacht factory, against his will, helping cut canvas and build trucks, Aadelheide worked at a canning factory, and they lived together in the Ghetto.

                “It’s been a week already…it’s so quiet…” Aadelheide whispered, like Leon, still awake past midnight.

                Leon kissed her forehead, pulling her closer as they both sat on a pallet on the floor. “I know…but they’re safe…”

                “I know…I just wish they could be with us.”

                “Me too…I want this war to be over already…”

                Aadelheide slowly nodded, before she smiled. “Wait, Leon, remember that verse Ezekiel preached from this past Sunday?”

                Leon yawned and shrugged. “Which one…?”

                Aadelheide got out of his arms, grabbing her Bible, which always sat beside the pallet, and she opened it. “Here, in Romans 8; ‘for God works all things together for good; for those who are called according to his purpose’. Don’t you see, darling? God is going to use this war…our children being sent away…living here…for something good.”

                “Like what, Aadelheide?”

                Aadelheide laughed and stayed sitting up, grabbing and squeezing his hand. “Oh, anything, Leon. God can turn any and all of this into anything good. Everything that may or may not happen…he’ll turn it for good.”

                Leon slowly pulled his wife back into his arms. “I still have you.”

                Aadelheide nodded and smiled. “And I still have you. And we have God. We can conquer over everything the enemy throws at us. Together and with God.”

                Leon smiled and kissed her, long and deep, before soon, they both fell asleep.

                 

                A loud, pounding knock.

                Leon groaned and rubbed at his eyes, looking around. Moonlight still came in through a crack in the window.

                Beside him, Aadelheide stirred. “…Leon? It isn’t even dawn yet…”

                Leon nodded slowly, yawning. “I know…maybe it’s Ezekiel…maybe he needs help with-“

                “Open up! Schnell!”

                Leon practically jumped to his feet, changing into his normal clothes.

                The knock sounded again.

                “Open up, Jews!”

                “…Leon…?”

                Leon turned to his wife, throwing his coat, with the star of David, on. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t panic.”

                He left the room, as the other two families crammed into the room began to awake.

                He opened the door, as three uniformed Gestapo men marched in. “How can I help you sirs?”

                The middle-aged officer, obviously the one in charge, glared at him. “We are here to arrest a Herr and Frau Wagner. Are you perhaps Leon Israel Wagner?”

                Not his true middle name, but he’d been forced to change it under Nazi law since he was a Jew. Leon nodded. “Yes, sir, I am.”

                “And your wife? Aadelheide Mary Wagner, is she here?”

                “Right here, sirs.” Aadelheide said softly, suddenly in the room, changed out of her nightdress into a blouse, skirt, jacket, and flats.

                The older officer nodded. “Pack two suitcases. One for you, one for your husband. Only necessities, nothing else.”

                “Yessir, I’ll be right on that.”

                And Aadelheide disappeared again.

                The two other Gestapo grabbed Leon’s arms and forced him down to his knees onto the floor.

                The officer laughed. “There we go. That’s better. That’s where you belong, Jew. On the floor, low and dirty.”

                Leon shut his eyes, tight.

                Footsteps sounded, and Aadelheide was back in the room, two suitcases in hand, as the two families watched, faces corpse white.

                The two men lifted Leon back to his feet, still holding onto his arms.

                They walked outside, one of the guards slamming the door closed behind them.

                A covered, large bed army truck waited outside, as men, women, and children were led inside, each one carrying a suitcase.

                Were they being relocated again?

                Aadelheide set their bags inside and got into the covered bed, as the moon continued to shine down.

                One of the guards shoved Leon forward, toward Wehrmacht soldiers that were waiting. “Move it, Jew. Schnell!”

                Leon slowly got inside, sitting on the floor beside his wife, moving to a front corner as more and more people were put in, until it was crowded.

                His fingers found hers, and their hands intertwined.

                Where were they going?

                And why were they going there?

                ~*~

                Riker set a small stack of papers on the desk.

                Erich looked up with a glare. “At least you’re useful for something. Even if it’s just useless desk work.”

                Riker shrugged and turned, to leave the office.

                “Riker, what are these papers, anyways?”

                Erich hadn’t been happy about Riker’s refusal to spy.

                Riker turned back around to face Erich with a smile. “Information to give to Hans, gathered from some of the men bound for Prisoner of War camps, just like you asked.”

                “But you…you refused…I was going to tell Hans today…”

                Riker smiled. “I got information, didn’t I?”

                Erich’s eyes widened as he looked over the papers. “H-how…?”

                “There are other ways to get information, Erich. And force isn’t the best way to get it.”

                Erich glared. “You’re a coward.”

                Riker shrugged, in the doorway, ready to leave. “Maybe so. But at least I used this big head of mine.”

                And he left the room, closing the door behind him.

                Maybe he was a coward.

                He had joined the SS rather than the Wehrmacht, after all.

                Maybe that did make him a coward.

                He was doing a desk job rather than fighting.

                Riker let out a deep sigh. They didn’t know why he had really joined the SS rather than the regular army.

                No one did.

                Riker sighed again, just as movement outside the window caught his eye.

                Why was there a big military truck outside?

                They didn’t ever bring huge groups of people…normally only one or two at a time.

                They never needed a truck that big.

                Riker glanced around, to make sure no one was watching, and found a door, slipping outside.

                The truck was guarded by two Wehrmacht soldiers.

                “Why is this truck here?”

                One of the men scoffed. “Like we know. Our superior officer just-“ He looked up, his face paled, and he stopped, blue eyes roving over Riker’s uniform, and he gave a ‘Heil Hitler!’ along with the other soldier.

                Riker nodded towards the truck, pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders, as the crisp May breeze blew. “Who’s in there?”

                “Some prisoners bound for one of our prisons, sir,” the same man replied, face still pale, almost white, “and our superior officer requested to stop here for a minute, so we are waiting for him.”

                Riker raised an eyebrow.

                They seemed so…secretive. “May I look inside…?”

                “Uhm…uh…yes, yessir. You may.”

                Riker nodded, and, stepping up, pushed the thick canvas aside and stepped in.

                He could barely even stand inside; it was so crowded with people.

                All wearing bright, yellow stars, stitched onto coats, marking them as Jews, something Riker still didn’t understand.

                And they were all Jews? Why were only Jews arrested?

                Riker glanced around at the silent people, many of whom had faces that were white with fear.

                The usual reaction to Riker’s uniform by almost anyone.

                “Why are all of you here? Do you know where you’re being taken?”

                “We don’t know why we’re here! We don’t know where we’re going! They’re going to kill us, I just know it!” An elderly woman cried, hysterical.

                A young man, her son, more than likely, grabbed her and tried to calm her down.

                “I don’t think they’re going to kill you…they’re taking you to prison.” Riker whispered softly, before turning to someone else, a black-haired young man that sat with a blonde-haired woman, his wife, Riker only assumed. “Did none of you know where you’re going?”

                The man shook his head. “No…and we still don’t.” He let go of his wife and looked up at Riker. “Please, officer, sir, don’t let them take my wife to prison…she had a baby only four months ago…I can’t let her be stuck in prison…”

                Riker stared at the man for a second. He seemed so…desperate. “There’s nothing-“

                “Please, sir,” The man begged, almost at Riker’s feet, and their eyes met, “just…help my wife.”

                Riker stepped back. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do. You’ll be taken to prison…they won’t kill you. I’m sure your wife will be fine.”

                “Please.”

                Riker slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, but there’s truly nothing I can do.” And he stepped out, closing the canvas.

                He walked away, but he took one last glance at the truck.

                With a rumble, it pulled away.

                Those people had seemed so…terrified. And that man had seemed so desperate.

                Riker walked back inside the prison, walking past Hilda at the front desk, and to Hans’ office.

                He knocked.

                “Come in!”

                Riker slowly opened the door and stepped inside, being sure to remember to salute Hans.

                Hans nodded his approval. “What do you want, Riker?”

                “That truck, sir…where is it taking all those people?”

                Hans smiled, writing something down on a piece of paper. “Oh, don’t worry, Riker,” he slid the paper towards Riker, “you’ll find out soon enough.”

                Riker stared at the paper, then Hans, eyebrow raised. “…Sir?”

                Hans laughed and stood. “Pack your bags, Lieutenant, you’re being transferred over to Fin.”

                #122992
                Anonymous
                  • Rank: Chosen One
                  • Total Posts: 8156

                  @mineralizedwritings. @elishavet-pidyon. @theloonyone. @arien. None of y’all’s tags worked for some reason. XD

                  #122996
                  GodlyFantasy12
                  @godlyfantasy12
                    • Rank: Chosen One
                    • Total Posts: 6645

                    @freedomwriter76

                     

                    UUUGGHHHH I HATE THIS!!

                    like uh not ur writing 🤣 OBVIOUSLY!! It’s amazing!! But UUUGGGHHHHHH!!!!!! *dramatically flops onto bed. Again.*

                    why? Why must u torture us so?!

                    #IfMarcelDiesIRiot
                    #ProtectMarcel
                    #ProtectSeb

                    #123003
                    Anonymous
                      • Rank: Chosen One
                      • Total Posts: 8156

                      @godlyfantasy12.

                      UUUGGHHHH I HATE THIS!!

                      like uh not ur writing 🤣 OBVIOUSLY!! It’s amazing!! But UUUGGGHHHHHH!!!!!! *dramatically flops onto bed. Again.*

                      why? Why must u torture us so?!

                      *evil writer laugh* XDXDXDXD

                      Why, thank you!!! *bows, almost falling on my face*

                      But I’m glad you like it…even though I’m, y’know, torturing you…xD

                      #123039
                      Koshka
                      @koshka
                        • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                        • Total Posts: 1424

                        @freedomwriter76

                        Ugh! I. Despise. Hans.

                        That was so good! I love all the history stuff, even though, to be honest, I usually don’t research WWII often. I do love this though, and….ahhhh….

                        This is totally making me want to dig Promise of Zion out again. XD

                        First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)

                        #123045
                        Anonymous
                          • Rank: Chosen One
                          • Total Posts: 8156

                          @koshka.

                          Well…you’re supposed to not like Hans…but this book is about forgiveness…

                          *in whiny voice* But does that mean I have to forgive Hans!? XD

                          Thank youuuu!!!! And yes!!! I’m so glad you love the Historical things too!!! So good to have a fellow History Nerd reading my historical stories. XD I LOVE researching WWII…so that’s why most of my stories are WWII, lol. xD

                          I’ve heard SOOOOO much about that from some of y’all here on KP! I STILL haven’t gotten around to reading it, lol. xD

                          #123061
                          Anonymous
                            • Rank: Chosen One
                            • Total Posts: 8156

                            @mineralizedwritings. @lightoverdarkness6. @theloonyone. @loopylin. @elishavet-pidyon. @koshka. @godlyfantasy12. @arien.

                            Y’alll!!!! I got two more chapters!!! AHHHHHHH!!!!

                            (not gonna lie, y’all…I had a bit of inner panic writing the 7 chapter…XD I was getting excited about my own book, and I know everything that happens!!! xD)

                            Anywho…here it is!!!

                            Chapter 6

                            Leon clutched Aadelheide’s hand, tight.

                            Why had he ever expected compassion from a Schutzstaffel officer? It was stupid. He should have known better.

                            Leon’s other fist clenched, as the truck bounced under them, and children screamed and cried, reminding Leon of his own kids, who were safe with a family that would love and care for them until the war was over.

                            “Thank you, Jesus, for helping our kids get somewhere safe…” Aadelheide whispered, seemingly reading his thoughts.

                            Leon kissed her briefly, just as the truck suddenly stopped.

                            They’d been travelling for another hour or so from the prison, and kids were asking their parents when they would eat, complaining of hunger.

                            Their parents just held them close and said not a word.

                            Aadelheide almost fell from the sudden lurch, and Leon grabbed her arm, stopping her from falling.

                            The canvas was pulled open. The Wehrmacht soldier glared at them. “Out, Jews. Schnell!”

                            Leon grabbed one of the suitcases, Aadelheide grabbed the other, and, with her hand on his arm, they stepped down and out of the truck.

                            A sudden, putrid, burning smell reached them.

                            “…What is that…?” Aadelheide whispered softly.

                            Leon shook his head. He had no idea.

                            He looked up ahead and noticed they were being separated into two separate lines.

                            Leon’s eyes widened.

                            Men on one side. Women and children on the other.

                            Aadelheide looked too, and she turned to face him. “Leon…? We’ll be separated…but it will be okay…”

                            “Aadelheide, I-I can’t leave you…”

                            “Women on the left! Men on the right!” An officer suddenly cried, as SS guards pushed and shoved people into the groups they needed to be in.

                            “You have to. It will be okay, my darling, I promise.” And she kissed him deeply, passionately, before pulling away.

                            Leon slowly nodded. “We’ll both go get our kids after all of this is over…”

                            Aadelheide smiled softly. “Of course…God be with you, my husband!”

                            And she was led away, disappearing into the crowds.

                            Leon walked, as guards and other men cursed behind him, shoving him forward.

                            He slowly did so, eyeing the barbed wire.

                            The tall watchtowers and walls.

                            The railroad tracks.

                            And suddenly, his gaze fell on men that were making sure everyone was in the right places doing the right things.

                            Not guards, no.

                            They were wearing blue and white striped uniforms, and they looked sick…skin sunk in…barely alive.

                            Prisoners.

                            “No…no…dear God, please, no. Get us out of this…” Leon begged, still moving forward. He had to. He was being shoved.

                            “Please…let me be with my wife…let her out of here…”

                            They were being separated into more groups.

                            The old and ill-looking were put into a group at the left, all other, younger, men shoved to the right.

                            An officer took one look at Leon and motioned him to the right.

                            Leon looked up at the sky above, at the sun shining through the clouds. “Dear God…please…just…help us…”

                            He followed the other men, into a small building, as suitcases were set aside and they were ordered to hand over all valuables on their person.

                            The suitcase had only been a ruse, to convince them that they were just being relocated again.

                            This place…it was one of the places…the camps, that were only talked about in hushed whispers.

                            They had been disregarded. Tossed aside for being only rumors.

                            But it was real.

                            It was horribly, terrifyingly real.

                            Leon finally reached the man at the desk.

                            “Set your suitcase over there and remove any valuables off of your body.”

                            Leon set the suitcase where he had been directed, and removed his wallet from his back pocket, his keys from another pocket, and set them both down in front of the man.

                            The man wrote something down, before looking up at Leon. “That includes jewelry.”

                            Leon’s gaze fell to his wedding ring.

                            For now, other than memories, it was all he had left of Aadelheide.

                            But he needed to get home.

                            Maybe…maybe if he was cooperative, shown to be trustworthy and not an enemy, they’d let him go, and he could get Aadelheide and his kids and escape to safety.

                            Maybe.

                            Just maybe.

                            Leon silently removed his silver wedding ring.

                            And he set it down.

                            He was getting out of this place.

                            He was getting his wife back.

                            He was getting his kids back.

                            And he was going to be free.

                             

                            Chapter 7

                            Riker stepped out of the staff car, as a burning, nauseating smell hit him.

                            But that was quickly forgotten, as tall shadows were cast over him.

                            He looked up, and, in surprise, took a step back.

                            Tall watchtowers. Tall walls. Barbed wire as far as the eye could see.

                            This was a prison, most certainly, but an outside one?

                            Riker looked around, and also saw railroad tracks and a train.

                            And people.

                            Oh, so many people.

                            Hundreds…thousands…of people.

                            There were many guards and officers, dressed in the same uniform he was, shoving people into groups.

                            “You’re here.”

                            Riker turned and gave the salute, just as Fin walked over, a warm smile on his face. “Yessir, I-I am. Is…is this a prison…?”

                            Fin’s smile instantly faded, and he bit his lip. “Well…if you want to call it that, then…yes, it’s a prison.”

                            Riker raised an eyebrow. “Uhm…sir…?”

                            Fin glanced around, before sighing deeply. “I can’t believe Hans transferred you over here…he certainly is…something.”

                            Riker walked over to him. “Sir? What do you mean?”

                            Fin turned to face him again, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Riker, it’s a hard thing to…explain. I’ll have to show you…and you have to be ready for it.”

                            Riker blinked.

                            Why was everything so secretive?

                            If it was a prison…why was there any need to hide anything?

                            Fin smiled softly. “Come along, Riker, you have to see to understand.”

                            Riker followed him, as the big, wrought-iron gates opened, allowing them both inside.

                            He followed right on Fin’s footsteps.

                            He saw guards and officers.

                            And men…in white and blue striped uniforms…who were skinny…sickly, being yelled at, and some even hit.

                            Riker turned to Fin; eyes wide. “Fin…sir…? What is this place…?”

                            Fin slowly motioned for Riker to follow him. “Come with me…I’m going to show you.”

                             

                            Fin showed him everything.

                            The barracks.

                            The kitchen, including the meager food portions. Only soup and bread, if that.

                            The work areas. The factory.

                            Riker saw less than half alive men at each place, starving, beaten, bodies sunk in and hollow.

                            Fin showed him the medical ward, where men were barely, if at all, taken care of, and where others were even killed.

                            And finally…Fin had showed him…the gas chamber and the crematorium.

                            The crematorium was where the smell was coming from.

                            The gas chamber was where unsuspecting men, women, and even…children were marched to certain death.

                            Where they were gassed to death.

                            And they didn’t even know what was coming.

                            And then…they were burned.

                            Riker retched and stumbled backward. Leaned against a building to steady himself as his entire body trembled.

                            Those people had marched into the jaws of death.

                            And didn’t even know it until it was too late.

                            Riker retched again as the burning smell reached him again.

                            He had joined the SS rather than the Wehrmacht so he wouldn’t have to kill anyone.

                            But in the end, he was still a murderer.

                            He had killed unsuspecting, innocent people.

                            Hundreds…thousands…millions of innocent people.

                            “Water?”

                            It took Riker’s swirling mind a moment to realize Fin was offering him a canteen of water.

                            Riker took the canteen with shaking hands. “Thank you.”

                            “It’s not easy to see. But I thought you had a right to know what’s going on.”

                            “All those people…why were they arrested and taken here?”

                            “Some of them on political reasons, being communists. Others because they didn’t listen to Hitler. The others…most of them…being Jews…just because Hitler and every other Nazi, for that matter, hates them.”

                            “Innocent people have been killed,” Riker’s head throbbed, “and I helped murder them.”

                            Fin’s gray eyes sparked with concern. “Riker, you didn’t know that this was going on.”

                            “It doesn’t matter…” Riker breathed, and his body still trembled from head to toe, “I still killed thousands…millions…of innocent people. They didn’t even know…they didn’t realize.”

                            “Riker, you can’t only blame yourself.”

                            “I could have done something. But instead, I…I…did nothing. I did whatever I was told and did nothing to object. I should have realized…I should have guessed something was going on! I was such an idiot.”

                            Fin gripped his shoulders. “You didn’t know. We can’t stop what we don’t know about. You know what? Yes, people have died. But God has a purpose for you being here.”

                            “God would never have a plan for someone like me.” Riker closed his eyes and pulled away. Ran his hand along the scar on his left cheek.

                            The ever-constant reminder of the past he fought to forget.

                            And now, a reminder of what he was.

                            A murderer.

                            And nothing but one.

                            “Riker…”

                            “I’ve killed men…women…children…babies…and I did nothing to stop it.”

                            “You didn’t know what was going on.”

                            Riker turned on Fin, but he stumbled, and Fin grabbed his arm, stopping him from falling. “It doesn’t matter. I still killed them. My hands are stained with blood…” Riker paused…and a sob escaped, guttural and deep.

                            He sank to the ground, hands over his face.

                            And, tears coursing down his cheeks, he whispered, moaned, “…Oh God…what have I done?”

                            #123064
                            Koshka
                            @koshka
                              • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                              • Total Posts: 1424

                              @freedomwriter76

                              …and now we enter the reason I don’t typically study WWII.

                              I love the last line though.

                              • This reply was modified 1 year, 5 months ago by Koshka.

                              First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)

                              #123066
                              Anonymous
                                • Rank: Chosen One
                                • Total Posts: 8156

                                @koshka.

                                Yeah…totally get that…but I know we need to know about it because if we don’t, well…it happens again. Which is one of the main reasons why I love and cherish History so much…just being honest.

                                But yeah…this is DEFINETELY the part of the book where we’re treading into darker and deeper waters. 

                                Glad you like the last line though!!!

                                And now we enter into…Riker’s internal conflict…

                                In the next chapter, everyone SHOULD, if everything goes according to plan, meet Aaron. And, ooh, Isaiah and Yosef!!! <333

                                #123067
                                Anonymous
                                  • Rank: Chosen One
                                  • Total Posts: 8156

                                  So…at least look forward to them!!! <3333

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