Metamorphosis

Chapter Three: The Angel of Death

The beastial rumble of engines echoed through the sleeping forest. Richtofen squinted his eyes as he watched the glow of the last lantern fade into the night. Despite the withering trees, enough foliage remained to conceal the land from the pale glow of the moon above. The village itself was completely plunged into darkness as the only light which remained came from the convoy vehicles. The jostling headlights cast themselves to and fro erratically as they revealed gnarled outlines and ghostly figures of decaying trees and hollowed buildings.

The first vehicles began to pull up outside in the cobbled village square as Richtofen's car prowled behind. The anticipation of the night ahead excited him. He had longed to lumber his way out of the vehicle and finally begin his work. But as the tyres of the car left the dirt road and clamoured across the cobbled town square they began to gradually slow to a creep.

The doctor readied himself as a rush of excitement tried to overcome him. Richtofen could already feel the terror of the quaking villagers as it hung in the air and engulfed the village. As his car came to a stop, he could make out the faded silhouettes of his men as they had already begun to exit their vehicles. One group of soldiers began to cautiously look around as they tensely gripped their MP40s. The sudden quietness of the village left the men visibly unsettled - which only added to the already tense atmosphere.

Soon, more soldiers gathered as they stood to attention. Then, Richtofen heard the door of his staff car click open. The lowly private gave a stiff awkward salute before keeping his eyes down to the ground whilst Richtofen lumbered out. The quivering soldiers turned towards Richtofen as they watched him slowly emerge. Once he unfolded himself and stood upright, he adjusted his hat and looked around. His men quickly stood to attention as Richtofen began to stalk towards them.

"Offload zhe equipment", Richtofen commanded before walking off - eagerly slithering towards the quaint houses.

The long serpentine convoy had meandered its way through France. The many vehicles it consisted of carried various pieces of equipment and cargo which were also being hauled along. There were wooden crates containing scientific instruments along with everything required for setting up a temporary field laboratory. The large green Mercedes trucks ferried their cargo and personnel across the land. However, their arrival at this sleepy little village was only the first destination of many.

Over the next five months of Richtofen's deployment; residents from French villages would be taken from their homes in the stillness of the night. Men, women and children were dragged off into the night - never to be seen again. Each night, the land would howl with curdling cries and woeful wailing as the voices pleaded for their lives. Both personnel and villager alike would lay awake trembling in fear as their imaginations unwillingly visualised the horrors taking place.

And each time, upon arrival, Richtofen would make it a ritual to seek out the mayor - or leader - of every village. His men would then march the villagers from their homes into the town square and subject them to a violent display. Their beloved leader would then be executed by firing squad in the middle of the town square for all to see. Such a display was enough to send most into a fit of drowning despair.

The leader's typically larger home would then be seized and turned into the next field laboratory - for Richtofen to conduct his research. In each of the rooms, the furniture would be rearranged to resemble surgical theatres where the large oak tables doubled as a theatre table. In the cellar, the kidnapped residents would be stripped of their valuables - which was pilfered by the more sadistic of Richtofen's men - and kept in cramped conditions. In their damp dark prison, they would be subjected to the shrieking cries of agony of their fellow captives as they awaited their turn with trembling bones and horror in their hearts.