Author: Erich Sturmburg PM
1940, the year where the Axis Powers were at its peak in the Second World War, however, in Germany itself, there was someone... trying to find her own existence in this hectic time, even if by means of losing her sanity...Rated: Fiction T - English - Suspense/Angst - Chapters: 8 - Words: 23,717 - Reviews: 31 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 10-06-09 - Published: 01-26-09 - id: 2627380
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
New prose is heavily inspired by …
-American McGee's Alice
-Shattered Entity (Removed from fictionpress)
By: Outlaw02 Extreme
She isn't real, can't make her real!
She can't be real, she no longer exists!
She can't have existed, we don't know her!
You pretend not to know her…
Yes, she isn't real, but…
She was real…
Real, and devilishly enraged…
… … …
1940, Nazi Germany…
The year where crimson flowed like the River Rhine as battle after battle raged throughout Europe, Africa. The mindless blitzkrieg assaults that brought swift German dominance throughout the lands… showed its real abilities to the mere allies that were stumped to begin with. However, in the midst of such cruel invasions… In Germany itself… someone was fighting for her own existence…
Darkness was all she saw when she regained consciousness. She was unsure how and why she ended up in a dark ward of a hospital. Skies beyond the window were scorched scarlet, not due to the battles going on the horizon; a fisherman's prediction that tomorrow morning would not rain. Of tanned skin, with her right hand, she brushed her long, jet black hair that ended near her hips, while she took a glance at the attire she was donned with. It was a simple dress that the hospital came with; white, long sleeved, and covered all the way to her ankles. Her footwear, simply a pair of brown, seasoned, high-cut hiking boots, rests supported by the legs of a chair next to her bed. Not a word left her mouth as she took notice of a mirror that lay on the side table, though on the edge of falling. She grasped it, unsure why she needed to hold it. A reflection came to her view. She recognised her own face to begin with, but now…
The 1.73 metre tall lass flinched when she saw the person from within. Sure, she recognised her very own face, but one thing that almost snapped her. Her parched throat did no help of making out a clear voice, but a few sentences came through, barely.
"This… isn't me. I look different."
Sure, even though she recognised the facial features she had, they just looked… out of place. She paused, trying not to flinch from that matter. She was a person who would get used to the changes around, and in her, and move on. The brunette took a deep breath, placing the mirror on the side table before letting out a heavy sigh. The only question that remained was this; how did she end up in the hospital in the first place? In fact, what was she doing before that? Her right hand massaged the right side of her temples, trying not to confuse herself too much. That was when she decided to pay attention to the surroundings. However, with the sun setting, there was little she could make out. There were other patients lying on their respective beds, some dozing to their hearts' content. However none caught her attention. Everything seemed… normal, yet queer.
From the moment she had woken up, the brunette had this sense of uneasiness, but could not make out what it was. The door creaked open before two nurses and a doctor emerged from it. Not a breath of word left their mouths. The male doctor paced his way towards her.
"It has been a week since you passed out, Anna. But it seems that you managed to pull it off just fine," remarked the man with a simple, brown, Caesar cut hairstyle as he wore the stethoscope. "Turn around, need to check your lungs a bit."
Remaining silent, Anna turned her back to him as the cold metal surface of the bell had her flinch for a split second before she eased down. Whispers from the 2 nurses were heard from that point onwards.
"Something's not right ever since the war started. We seemed to have lesser patients, not the expected opposite."
Anna was not sure about the info she had heard; dull crimson eyes caught attention through the window. She could not care less about the atmosphere, it was the fact that she just wanted to get out of the hospital as soon as possible.
"How long before I get discharged?" the brunette asked with her parched throat.
"It'll be a while," he responded before writing down on his papers, maybe recording Anna's status.
The lass of 26 winters did not question further; Anna would have predicted that the doctor would have to come up random excuses for the delay. Faint clangs from a small metal plate caught her attention before she was handed with it. A few pills were on it, and a glass of water.
"Here's the medication for tonight. Dinner will come in an hour's time," was the doctor's instructions before he and the nurses left.
However, at the door, just before it closed, one of the two nurses hand-signalled Anna while mouthing the words.
"Don't consume the pills."
It was that instant where the brunette knew something was queer. What were the pills contained? Why did that nurse warned not to consume them? Is this even a hospital to begin with? Anna tried not to be hasty by jumping to conclusions. Maybe asking some of the other patients in the ward could be of a better solution-
"Eat the pills, and you'll end up being fodder for some of the doctors here," a husky voice was heard next to her bed.
Leaving the pills aside and gulping down the water, Anna then got out of the bed, and paced closer to the source. There, she noticed a man with bandages wrapping around his midriff while in a sitting position. His breaths were heavy, most probably the pain from the wound beneath those bindings. The brunette did not utter a word as the blond haired man reasoned to her about the pills.
"They don't care if you're German, visitor, Jew, or even just a person. They are not even doctors in my opinion; those nuts are just too scalpel wielding happy. They see us as potential experiments. I was damn lucky that mine was just a simple operation of my appendix. Damn appendicitis at such a time."
"Scalpel wielding happy?" asked Anna, somehow not believing it. "That's like reviving the horrors of The War to End All Wars. It's ridiculous."
"See it for yourself then. Pretend that you're heading for the washroom, take glances through the glass portion of the doors. Some things are just…diabolical to even exist," he challenged, though concerned as he rummaged under his pillow. "Here, at least arm yourself with something sharp."
The long haired brunette was stumped when she was handed a knife from that blond man. Confusion began to set in her mind as she grabbed it by the handle. Her eyes marvelled at the shiny appearance of the blade before she shook her head, somehow trying to put her mind away from staring at the knife.
"What was I thinking?" she thought before she wrapped the object with sheets of newspaper, and hid it snugly in one of the dress' rather deep side pocket.
I'm unsure about this…
As Anna paced her way towards the door, a thought ran through the man's mind, somehow guilty of not revealing something…
"Appendicitis, huh? More like those bastards messed up my intestines, even though I can't feel the pain anymore. I'm numb."
… … …
Eeriness; that was the word Anna was trying to find the moment she stepped out of her ward. The nearest washroom was just at the end of the corridor, past the nurses' counter. Light sources from the heat-emitting light bulbs hanging on the ceiling did little to provide illumination on the path ahead. That made her wonder how the personnel made their way throughout the hospital. Normally, one would resort to using the old fashioned candle with the holder, just to navigate from one place to another. No matter, other than the lack of lighting, everything seemed typical for a hospital. Nurses on duty were very much pre-occupied with their work and constant filing after they had done so. Comparing to Anna's occupation as a librarian, hers feels like a walk in the park.
However, at least being a librarian, the brunette was able to discover various things to deal with, even when it came to using home appliances as weapons. She never knew such books existed. Her thoughts came to a halt just before she reached the washroom. It was not the typical wails and moans Anna would have predicted. Instead, it came in a form of muffled knocks, located just 2 doors away from where she stood. Her dull eyes took a glance of where the nurses were; they seemed unfazed by Anna's presence. Just pacing her way down that particular corridor at the junction, past the washroom is already a clear cut sign that she was investigating. Until it took her to squint her eyes down that path, she noticed another washroom sign.
"Sound ridiculous to go for a further one, but at least I have an excuse should there be any nurses or doctors in my way," she thought.
Just heading for the other washroom was easy, but the way she needed to take a peek through the glass portion of the door is another thing. She could not just sneak a quick look through the glass; there might be a possibility that the personnel would take action. She had to do it while she was pacing for the washroom, and take a swift glance through it, and try to burn the image in her mind. Of course, judging by the poor lighting conditions, it was like trying to do the impossible. No matter, Anna had to give a shot. However, there was already a problem; the brunette's boots, upon impact on the wooden flooring, had been making quite a sound with a deep thud at the heel, then a firm tap as the front hit ground.
"It's not going to work. I have a bad feeling already," thought the red eyed lass as she picked up her pace, just moments away from the said door. "The hell with it."
The instant she was next to the door, her eyes stole a quick glance through the glass portion of it. Anna flinched before the view she had disappeared ever so quickly. Dead silence was the word she was trying to find. Not because she managed to stop making her boots causing a din to the wooden floor; she was speechless at what she witnessed. Her hands felt cold ever so suddenly before her left began to quiver. All she needed to do is to get into the washroom, at least wash her face to calm her down. Getting all panicky at that moment would only rouse suspicions. However, her mind was beginning to pour in with questions, one being the most obvious.
Is this even a hospital to begin with?
What Anna noticed through the glass portion of the door… That man was alive and kicking, yet limbs were surgically removed without a moment's hesitation. Crimson poured over the surgical table as 3 doctors with… blades sliced that person up.
It all seemed too unbelievable at that point of time. She would have expected all that from a novel; where it should have been, and stayed there. It felt like a clique of a plot as well. Anna breaths turned heavy; it was not a good sign. She did not want to end up feeling faint at this point of time due to hyper-ventilation.
"That was the main reason why that man wanted me to arm myself with anything sharp or dangerous," thought the brunette as she entered the washroom, immediately to the sink. "But I have to calm down first."
Eerie silence overwhelmed her as Anna left the washroom in a hurry after washing her face. All she felt at this point of time was to head back to her ward. A sense of urgency kicked in. The instant she passed the said door, it opened with a creak. A chill ran down her spine as she turned to the junction, trying to stay as calm as possible. Her boots were making a din, this time louder than usual. Anna was beginning to panic. A possibility ran in her mind, but she did not even want to think of it. That would only throw her into a world of denial. A foreign footstep other than hers was heard behind Anna. Dull red eyes widened. Her right hand dug into the deep pocket, somehow ready to keep herself on guard. Her ward was nearby as her left hand was ready to grasp the door handle. Footsteps behind her were ever so becoming louder by the second. Anna's pulse increased ever so quickly. She could not quicken her pace, or even run; that would instantly have the personnel behind her raising suspicions.
She grasped the door handle as she turned, and pushed it at the same time. In one swift movement, the brunette entered the ward, and pushed the door shut; at the same time taking a glance of what was behind her. Anna held her breath.
A Luger, aiming through the gap of the door before she shut it.
By that time, she was rudely shaken. Her legs felt weak as she paced her way to her bed. The German was just too speechless to even utter a word as the man who had given his knife to her hand-signalled Anna to come. The brunette's legs buckled in as she fell into a kneeling position. Her eyes stared at the open window once again, but still not uttering a word.
Why was the handgun aimed at her even after she entered the ward?
That question lingered in her mind before panic turned to unstable fear. It was to a point Anna could not decide whether to be afraid, or just throwing herself into a world of dread. Her right hand, still in the pocket, grasped the handle of the knife as she pulled it out. The newspaper wrapping began to unwrap by itself, unveiling the shiny blade. It was not perfect, but the sharpness remained when she tested it by slicing the newspaper perpendicular to the sharp edge. Another question ran into her mind, but an unexpected one as she sat on her bed, while saying it audibly.
"Will this blade be enough to protect me, or do I need something of a better calibre, like that Luger?"
The blond haired man, who had overheard the said question, began to worry about Anna in one particular area.
"Anna, you're getting deranged. Will that be your fuel to survive? Pure sanity can't survive for long in this damned place they called 'hospital'. Blame the war; it started this hell for every patient- no, fodder."
Crimson eyes turned her attention to the blond man, yet asking another question.
"I don't think my eyes are even red to begin with. Am I already a victim of this place? My eyes used to be silver in shade."
… … …
Evidences of existence burnt in embers,
The blade that would spill crimson in excitement,
Sanity; now a hindrance,
The remarkable lunacy being the backbone…
…of demented excitement and fear…