Thread: Herzdieb   [Brittle & Banter]

Finishing writing Seamstress beside the previous woman's name and number in the log-book, he took the papers which were handed to him without looking up. The action shortly followed with, Profession or skills? His eyes switched to the new woman's identification. Anger flashed in the SS officer's face as he realized the papers were somewhat wet. Wetter than usual, as it was smudging out certain words and making a mess of the writing. The Jews should have been toweled off enough not to damage papers this badly. What is this? Ingolf hissed. Had the Jew thrown them in the snow? He looked up, about to bark at the stupid woman for being so foolish when he was met with the reason for her damp papers. Her hair had not been cut. It hung in long, wet strands down her front, covering the girl's trembling breasts. Rivulets of ice-water dripped down her body, his eyes following them along the curve of her hips. The inside of her thigh. Schnes Kind. His eyes rose from her flesh. Slate blue meeting the dark, earthen brown of the girl's eyes. Red marring the white under long lashes, either from tears or chill. Her face was twisted with hurt, rebellion, sorrow but she was beautiful. Quivering there in her pain. He felt heat swell in him despite the cold. The spark behind his eyes was not pity. His interest was rather in the girl's body his eyes dragged slowly over her form. Taking in the rosy cheeks, the pink lips that pursed as she waited impatiently to be out of the cold. No doubt the slight female would die soon if left out in the elements in this state. His tight-pressed mouth turned up into a slight smile. The officer glanced back to her papers, tapping his pen in thought. Thalia. What a pretty name. It rolled thickly off the officer's tongue. You have ruined your identification on purpose? He asked slowly, holding up the semi-damp paper. It was still legible in most areas, but the officer paid no heed. And this, Ingolf reached forward, taking up some of the silken strands and pulling them away from the girl's breast. Are you stupid? Blind? he gestured at the women behind her, his voice falling, In the Lager you follow orders, His fingers tightened in her hair before he yanked the girl's head down to his level, snarling into her face, or you will punished, Judebrut . She undoubtedly would have been barbered upon arriving at her lodge, but that was of no importance to him. She stroked something in him, enough to make the officer pause to consider what the brown locks would feel like slipping through his fingers. Dragging the hunched girl by her hair to the side of his table, the called orders over his shoulder. A lesser officer appeared at once to take up the woman's arm and lead her away. She would not be going to the lodgings with the rest of the women. Not just yet. Ingolf scratched into the log book the girl's information, putting as her occupation Ehrenhftling - Special prisoner. Looking up, the Rapportfhrer calmly beckoned the next woman forward, not missing the way her wide eyes flicked from him to the street the girl was led down. They learn by examples made of them. He held out his hand. Identification. Thalia was ushered along the long, muddy, slushed streets of the encampment, the grip on her arm forcing her to keep up with the young officer's clipped pace. At the end of the road the man turned right, past a few more fences, until they reached a slope of a hill removed from, and overlooking the encampment. Atop it stood the Lagerkommandant's home, and to it's right, slightly smaller, was his report officer's. Dragged up to the latter, the girl was thrown unceremoniously into the the foyer of the wooden home. Her accompanying SS officer snapping orders for the girl to start a fire, before striding past her. He returned after a few moments to throw the damp, naked woman a towel. Cover yourself. Taking up guard of the door, the soldier stood still, watching his charge as were his orders.