Half Sick of Shadows » Band of Brothers [2]

45: Centuries of Chains and Lashes

"I understood that centuries of chains and lashes will not kill the spirit of man nor the sense of truth within him." - Ayn Rand, Anthem

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I recognise him through the crack in the door. Even from behind. Even in the darkness. Even when Will hasn't yet. I'd recognise him anywhere. Fear number two. Hauptsturmführer Becker.

I knew, of course. Before getting here. I could tell it was him immediately from the sound of his stomping footsteps - always traipsing around as though he's trying to make himself go through the floor. I've always found it intimidating, which I'm sure is his intention, even though I've also always known that it's a show of him needing to prove himself.

I remain behind the door to the staff corridor for the time being - best not to show my hand too soon, especially as Will hasn't even seen him yet. My timing needs to be dead perfect, here. Also, if I'm being terribly honest, I'm afraid. No time for fear but I'm afraid. God, I'm so afraid. Scared scared SCARED. Sick of being scared but I am.

"Handing yourself in to us?" the hauptsturmführer taunts Will. I have to ignore the icy foreboding that fills my veins, the bile that crawls its way up my throat, the way my heart has dropped about ten floors below ground. That voice haunts me and it is exactly as I remember it. God he's so close he's so close he's so close he's so close.

"Hauptsturmführer Becker?" Will asks tentatively, no traces in his voice of the fear I feel. Clever boy. Perhaps he knows I'm here; not physically - I know he hasn't seen me - but perhaps he just knows instinctively that I'll get him out even if I die trying. Perhaps he knows I won't leave him behind.

"Let me guess," the hauptsturmführer drawls, circling Will where he's crouched on the floor surrounded by radio equipment like a vulture about to dive for its prey. "William, the radio operator. Am I correct?"

Blasted bloody confessions did you have to go into that much detail bloody hell, Juliette.

Becker crosses the door I'm hiding behind just in time that I don't catch Will's expression but I know his face must have fallen from how the hauptsturmführer cackles.

"Yes, she told us all about you," the evil brute of a man continues. Even though his back is turned I can picture the sneer on his face, the squint of his eyes, and the sickly pallor of his skin. Horrible, horrible, wretched demon of a man. I hate him. I hate him.

"All good things, I hope," Will returns. It makes me smile. I can hear the note of terror in his voice now but he's still hanging onto his nerve. Darling Will, I LOVE YOU.

"I expect she's told you all about me, as well," the hauptsturmführer goes on. "All about what I did to her. As a result, I expect you know in explicit detail what's in store for you."

Rotten, vile, hideous creature I want him dead and six feet under but he doesn't deserve such mercy I want him to burn.

"You're a wretched soul, do you know that?"

When Hauptsturmführer Becker pounces on his prey I burst through the door. Can't help myself. He's not getting those evil hands on Will. I'm not having it.

"Happy to see me?"

His hands are around my neck before I can even blink. I expect he's not thinking too clearly - too irritated with Will's brazenness, my snark, and the fact that I managed to slip out from between his rat fingers with my confession, all the evidence he has that I ever confessed, along with me.

Will shouts in shock and horror and I meet his eyes over the hauptsturmführer's shoulder. "Apart and back together," I manage to gasp. Tears are pooling in my eyes, my legs kicking against the floor where his grip is so strong it's now the only thing holding me up, hands clasped tightly around the wrists that seek to kill me once more.