Those Who Forgot to Die - Part 4
BennettWorks
This is a work of original furry fiction/erotica by me David Bennett. This is a work of historical fiction and makes references towards real people and events. All characters otherwise used are copyright myself, except Wolfpac...Wolfpac is copyright his creator.
If you are underage (18 or 21) or offended by gay historical fiction, then turn away. If you are turned off by adult-youth relationships then stop reading. Otherwise read on and enjoy.
All of these chapters and information on wolfpac are available at www.denofthewolf.net
(*author's note*) I am aware that there are some typos in the story, please try to make the best of it, this story was typed a while back.
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"Hurry up Zeke! You're doing fine!" Yelled Ishmael from the porch of the small country house. It was now summer of 1944, and the war was really picking up. The allies were all over the countryside, and the Nazi's were also just as common. Zeke and Ishmael had been lucky so far, the pair had remained hidden in their little and virtually unknown community. Mabbullau was the name of the hamlet that he occupied. It was a considerable step down from his home in Dresden, but he couldn't go back.
Zeke adjusted his pants. He had never received a new pair of pants, and if there wasn't a risk of Nazi's jumping out of the bush he'd just work naked, but all he really had to do was tug on his rope belt to fix it. He leaned on the till that was being pulled by the horse, and rested for a moment. His muscles had grown considerably since he left Dresden, and his hair was even longer. Zeke liked the way that he was forming.
"Yeah, I only have a few more feet to go before I'm done Ishmael!" Zeke called back. Ishmael nodded from the porch and gestured for him to proceed. Zeke had about 50 more feet to till before he would have tilled the entire field. The crops that would grow over the autumn and be harvested in the winter needed to be planted. Zeke gave the reigns a snap and the hoarse started pulling again. He guided the till, moving it like he was taught, churning up the earth.
When he was finished, Zeke walked back to the house, and flopped on the porch with Ishmael, his good friend. Two were only really friends, friends that would sex each other every once and a while. Zeke loved Ishmael, but he wasn't in love with him. There was something about him that just didn't clench that feeling he needed. No, Zeke still needed a real love, someone he could call his boyfriend. Ishmael wasn't bad, and wasn't bad in bed either, but to Zeke all they would ever be was friends that moonlight as sex partners.
"Crops may be good this year." Zeke said, looking out at the fields of different crops that he had helped tend and plant. Ishmael nodded and handed Zeke a cup of water.
"Yeah, could be. It all depends on how the weather goes. All the smoke from the bombs all over the place can make bad rain."
"Bad rain?" Zeke asked, curious.
"Yeah. Every time it rains here, I get really frustrated. Since William and I ran here, we have noticed the 'Bad Rain' as I call it. The rain...it poisons the plants, rather than helps them. I think that the soot and the sulfur in the smoke from the fires and the bombs all over Germany, mixes with the water clouds and comes down as 'bad rain' here." Ishmael said, pointing out to their humble surroundings.
Zeke drank and laughed once. "I think the Nazi's are bad rain. Tell me, what stops the bad rain?" Zeke asked, looking over at Ishmael.
Ishmael looked back. "A wind of change..."
Zeke nodded and looked back out onto the field, and spoke softly. "Lets hope that wind blows soon."
"Yes, lets."
It was a sunny afternoon, nearly a week after the conversation in-between Ishmael and Zeke on the porch, that Zeke found himself writing. He sat in his bed, unclad and hair unkempt, writing in his diary that Ishmael gave him for Chanukah. He was taking down his weekly observances.
"Dear Diary, June 14, 1944
Today has been all right for the most part. I am beginning to wonder what has become of my Flat, and what has become of the people I once knew. I have come to miss them all: Greever and Grover, Kurtis, Anita, and my beauties. Since I have been here with Ishmael, all urges to use my beauties have left me. I suppose that I have overcome my sexual lusts.
This week I tilled the field and planted the winter crops. If this year's harvest is anything like the last one I helped with, then food should be plentiful come winter. One might ask me how I feel making such a switch from a rich home and making the transition to humble dwellings and living. I have to say that for once I feel good knowing that I earned my keep, and that I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to in order to survive.
Ishmael and I are worried about the Nazi activity in the area; we have had to hide in the crawlspace a few times when we thought we heard troops approaching. It is scary. Technically, we are living illegally, and if the Nazi's catch us, it will be hell to pay.
The last thing I want is to end up in a camp. I don't want to go. I want to stay..."
Zeke sat on the bed and began to realize something. He hadn't seen Ishmael in hours, and it was getting dark. Ishmael was never home after dark; he was always in bed at dark so he could be awake early enough in the morning to start work. Zeke set down the book and closed it. He stood and began to walk around the house for a few moments, pacing the wooden floor. Zeke wagged his tail, and rubbed his groin absently. Where was his friend?
"Ishmael? You on the crapper?" He asked, looking towards the indoor outhouse. No response came from it. Just to be sure, Zeke walked over and opened the door. It was empty. Zeke decided to take a moment to relieve himself, and when he was done, he turned around and grabbed his pants off of the line. He threw them on, and tied the rope belt, and slipped his way out the door. He stood there, and looked around him. He didn't see Ishmael anywhere in sight. He started to worry. "Ishmael?" He called out. Zeke shrugged; perhaps Ishmael was by the stream asleep again.
Zeke walked through the fields of crops towards the stream. It was chest depth at the deepest, and was a nice place to swim around this time of year, also, next to the stream was a tree; one that Ishmael called "The Sleeping Tree". Ishmael would take naps there during the day, or sometimes sleep all the way into the evening. Zeke hoped to find him there, but he didn't find him there either. The strange thing was, his boots were there, and he could swear he saw footprints, but he shrugged.
"Where are you?" He asked aloud.
Zeke turned around, and began to walk towards the house, when he saw the work shed had lights on in it still. Zeke shrugged, and for but a moment paid no attention to it, but then something occurred to him. He realized that he had never once found out what William did when he was in the shed. William never brought out any work that he had completed, he never anyone else inside, and for some reason the shed had better electricity than the rest of the house. Zeke smiled, and made the decision that he would pay William a surprise visit and find out what was going on.
The shed was small, about the size of most work sheds. Inside, Zeke could hear the sound of William speaking. Zeke walked to the door and opened it, and when he opened it, he wished he hadn't. He saw William sitting with his back to him, in front of a large communications radio. William was speaking in German, and had a large map on the wall with their location highlighted in red. Zeke gasped, on the back of William's chair was a Nazi uniform, and on the work table near the radio was the uniform that Zeke had worn to get undercover the night he fled Dresden.
"What the hell?" Zeke asked aloud as he stepped in. William spun around and had a pistol aimed at Zeke faster than he could blink. He told the person on the other end of the radio that he would be back and to stand by. William set down the radio headsets and looked Zeke square in the eyes.
"What are you doing here?" He asked in a low tone.
Zeke looked at him and ran a hand through his long hair in worry and confusion. "I was just coming in here because I was curious what you were doing. I've never been in here before." Zeke said in a frightened tone.
"Well as you can see there is a reason for that Zeke."
"What are you doing?" Zeke asked as he held up his hands.
"Oh? I thought you of all people would have an idea what this looks like. If you are too dumb to figure it out Herr VonHurstleburg, then I recommend you listen well," He began. "You see, I have been a double agent. I am working for the Nazi's by helping them find all the people in hiding, in exchange for my freedom and life. I also work for the Jews, by helping to 'lead' them to what they think is freedom; little do they know they are walking right into my traps."
Zeke's jaw dropped and he held his hand on his head. "You...you betrayed your people!"
William scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. "I did what I had to survive. You think we Jews have had it easy? Name one time when we weren't getting persecuted or ridiculed. It's survival Zeke...nothing more."
"But, would you betray your own brother? Where is he anyway?" Zeke asked as he started to back towards the door.
"In custody. I turned him in," William said as his voice started to waver. "You and him are the last people I need to turn in before I am sent back hope to Poland."
Zeke growled as he stood in the open door frame. "Hell has no place for you! Such punishment...you are undeserving."
The hammer on the pistol was pulled back. "I've come to realize what I have done, but my survival is key." William gave a wicked smile and looked Zeke right in the eye. "I'll tell you what, my friends will be by any minute for you now. Since you gave my little brother so much happiness in months past, I am giving you the chance to run."
"Run?" Zeke whispered.
"Yes run, otherwise I am going to count to 10 before I shoot you."
"I'll go then." Zeke said as he ran out the door and into the house. He ran and grabbed his diary off of the bed, and ran out the front door, but screeched to a halt. There in the road out front was a group of Nazi soldiers. His escape routs were cut off. Zeke had little time to react, and he ran over to the sink. He opened the cabinet to the sink, and under there was a secret passage to the crawlspace under the house. Zeke figured he would take his chances and hide.
Zeke slipped himself down and closed the doors, just as the Nazis came in. The Nazi's had their automatic rifles, and pistols drawn. One was an SS officer, one that seemed familiar as Zeke looked at them through the cracks. The four troops and one SS officer stood in the entrance and looked about.
"Herr VonHurstleburg is still here..." The SS officer said aloud.
"Are you sure sir?" Asked a troop.
"Yes, he could be anywhere by now." Chimed another.
"Nein! Herr VonHurstleburg is still here...he is hiding somewhere. Search the place, we have the entire farm surrounded incase he decides to run.
The troops moved about, and turned the place up side down to look for him, but never bothered to check the crawlspace. They checked the toilet, but not the crawlspace. After about 30 minutes of searching, the troops all crowded around the SS officer.
"Commander Schmidt, we can't find him anywhere, and the troops outside see no signs that he escaped." The officer reported.
"Damn! I am not going to let VonHurstleburg escape. I knew I should have shot him when I killed his...other...and his son, at least this way we wouldn't have this problem! Find me William!" He ordered. Zeke had to resist the urge to growl from his hiding compartment. So, this officer was the one that killed Fritz and Milo, oh how he would love revenge. Zeke heard the sounds of new boots on the floor, and looked up through the cracks. There was William, walking up to talk to Commander Schmidt. The commander turned and looked with an uncaring eye his way, he wasn't in a good mood.
"Special Officer William reporting sir." He said as he saluted. The commander didn't salute back.
"Where is he?" Schmidt sneered.
"Where is who?" William asked in a calm tone.
"VonHurstleburg you fucking twit! Where is he hiding?" He said with fierce aggression.
"I haven't a clue. The last time I saw him he was asleep on his bed after some fornications with my little brother. Since then he could have gone anywhere." William said calmly.
"No...there weren't any footprints leading away. The only footprints around here lead down to the stream, but not up to it. Now unless he just...disappeared off the face of the earth, he still has to be here! So, you care to tell me where he is?" Schmidt asked as he paced the floor.
"To be honest great commander, I haven't a clue where he could be." He replied, shrugging his shoulders. Schmidt growled, and spun on his heal, drawing his pistol and fired a shot that blew out William's left knee. He screamed in pain as he fell on his back, holding his leg.
"Liar!" Schmidt grumbled as he walked over to William's left side. William was whimpering in pain, and holding his bleeding leg. "Tell me where he is! NOW!" He said as he pointed his gun at William's head now. Zeke silently cursed, he knew how impatient Schmidt was, and that this would be William's last chance to save himself. He looked up as his tail wagged ferociously and shed a tear.
"I...let...him...go..." He groaned.
"What?!" Schmidt barked as he sent a pointed boot toe into William's ribs. "You let him what?"
"Go," William coughed. "I gave him the chance to escape...I figured it would be the sporting thing to do." William croaked out.
"You thought wrong then...Jew."
And the trigger was pulled.
William's head hit the ground with a thud, and Zeke could see the blood beginning to fall under the cracks. He gulped, and crossed himself, hoping that he would make it through the night.
"Hey Commander, good thing about these cracks huh? No blood mess." A troop observed.
"Yes, I don't want this...Jew's blood on my boots. The blood will drain into the crawlspace..." The commander said as he started to ponder.
Uh oh.
"There's a crawlspace here..." The commander whispered. "He has to be under the house, there is no other place. Shoot the floor boys." The officer said as the troops nodded. They pulled out their guns and aimed for random spots. One troop's gun was trained on his spot, so he had to do something.
"Wait! I surrender!" Zeke said stood up under the sink and opened the cabinet. "Please don't shoot."
The troops all aimed their guns at him as if he was the most dangerous thing alive. The officer raised his eyebrows, and seemed to have a genuine look of admiration on his face. Zeke climbed slowly out of the hole, holding his book and fighting to keep his pants on. Once out, two of the officers took his wrists, and lead him over to the commander.
Once face-to-face, Zeke couldn't help but notice how beautiful Schmidt could have been if he wasn't so evil. The man's ice blue eyes sent chills down his spine, and the other man's musk was intoxicating.
"Well...Lord Zeke VonHurstleburg. I am glad you elude me no more." The Commander said as he stepped a step closer. "I have to admit, you are probably the first person to ever give himself up so peacefully."
Zeke kept as neutral a face as possible. "I thought that running would only make things worse on me." He admitted.
"You are smart. Tell me, how did you get a hold of Commander Reinhart's clothes?" He asked, getting down to business.
Zeke looked at him, and knew that the only way to stay alive was to answer his questions, and tell the truth. "Sergi and I exchanged clothes in an alley before I escaped."
The Commander raised an eyebrow and shifted his weight on his foot. "So you willingly exchanged clothes?"
"Yes, right down to the underwear. He wanted me to escape, so we changed clothing and we separated. I walked to the border and I got out." Zeke explained.
"Clever of Sergi to protect his...'investment'. He put a lot of time and love into you, too bad it all came down to his death."
Zeke nodded, not upset by the news at all. "I suppose. What happens to me now."
The officer grinned a fat, many-toothed grin, and put a hand on Zeke's shoulder. "Well, if you continue to be a good little faggot like you are now, then we take you to the camp like I was ordered. If you give me any shit, you'll join William on the floor, understand?" The commander said as he the pistol barrel right against Zeke's healthy chest.
"Clearly sir." He said. The iron of the weapon was still hot, and he didn't like the feeling against his skin. He looked at the officer, and swore silent revenge. He wanted his sense of justice.
"Good. Now come out to the car with us, so we can take you to the train."
And with that, Zeke was led out to the car the troops came from, and was put in the back seat. He held onto his diary with a vice grip, and closed his eyes. This was the day that he knew was inevitable, but he hoped would never come. The entire ride in the car, he could hear the troops talking about military things, maneuvers and death counts and such. It would seem that the Reich as he knew it wasn't as strong as it was before, and the Nazi's were having to pull out all the stops to hold onto this war. Zeke remembered something that Reinhart had said a long time ago, something about an invasion of the United States? Did that ever happen? He thought he would ask.
"Um, excuse me?" He asked politely. Commander Schmidt turned around in the front left passenger seat and looked at him curiously.
"What do you want?" He asked coldly. Zeke gulped and looked up at him.
"I wanted to know, did we ever invade the United States?" He asked casually. The troops all looked at each other with a confused stare, it was as if Zeke was speaking in a foreign language or something.
"Now just what do you mean by 'we'?" Schmidt asked in a softer tone.
"I mean we as in Germany." Zeke said, hoping he wasn't sticking his foot further up his own ass. The other troops nodded a little and looked at the Commander. The commander sighed, and rubbed his head, he must have had a headache.
"No, we haven't. We fight the Americans here in Europe, and Africa. I doubt our great banner will ever fly over American soil." He groaned.
"Oh."
* * *
Zeke reached the train station, and looked up in terror at it. He knew it meant death if he got on that train. This was no pleasure trip, and no business trip either. This was a trip, to separate him from the rest of the world, in order to execute him. The train had red cars, with small little windows that had bars in them...former cattle cars from what Zeke could surmise. The train station was crowded with about a hundred different people, all about to take "the ride".
"This one doesn't have his badge!" A troop said, pointing to Zeke as he walked up half naked. He looked down, and just held onto his book. He went where he was told, and did what he was told. A troop kicked his calf and pointed to a table with some shirts on it, and told him to go get a shirt. He nodded, and stepped out of line to go check in. The Officer there was a sergeant, and he was taking down people's names, and handing out the correct shirts. If you lied, you were shot. Zeke approached the sergeant. The male looked like he needed a break. Zeke tried to smile, and he let out a breath.
"Well, looks like they found you gallivanting off where there is hardly a need for clothes eh?" The officer asked. Zeke nodded, and stood there, staring at the black shirts on the table. Each had a different symbol. He saw Yellow stars of David, Pink and black Triangles, and gypsy symbols. He looked at the officer who smiled at him a little.
"You're a big fella, you a body builder?" He asked casually.
"No sir." Zeke replied.
"Just naturally gifted with that body? Damn, I have to admit I'm a bit jealous." The officer said, tapping a clipboard in his left hand against the table. Zeke shrugged, and kept standing there. The officer, a Great Dane, was gifted in his own right, but far less cut as Zeke at that point. Zeke looked at him, and wondered what was going to happen.
"I guess I need a shirt?" Zeke cut in.
The officer gasped and sat forward a bit more in his chair. "Oh yes, I'm sorry. Ok, what are you? I doubt your Jewish...not the right stuff. Hmm...looking into your eyes I'm guessing your gay." The male said. Zeke nodded. "Ah, 's what I thought. Look just between us, I think Homosexuals are interesting. My best friend was a homosexual before he got sent to the camps."
"Really?" Zeke asked, perhaps finding an ally.
"Yeah. And if you promise not to tell anyone I'll tell you something else." The officer said as he stood and began to take measurements of Zeke's arms and shoulders.
"I swear to God that I'll keep a secret."
"Well, I guess even if I did tell you it would be my word against yours eh?" The Dane snickered. Zeke just, moved his body as he was told.
"Yeah."
"Well, to tell you, the thing is, I like both sexes myself. You are a beauty if I ever saw one. You remind me a lot of my friend; he was the one that helped me discover myself a few years ago, after the '36 Olympics." The male said as he squeezed his shoulder.
"I get that a lot..." Zeke said as he looked down at the ground.
"Hey, don't worry, " The Officer began as he put a shirt of linen onto Zeke. He reached around and buttoned it up for him. Regulations at the time said that the Officer was liable for all the shirts he gave out, so he had to button them. "Look, think of me as a friend ok? You are my favorite person I've ever met at this table; I don't want you to worry too much.
"Ok." Zeke said softly.
"Alright, well this will have to do for the trip over. Your name?" The officer asked, looking with a more serious face towards Zeke.
"Oh, I am Zeke Von Hurstleburg."
"Zeke, I'll call you Z. Come on, I have to finish dressing you." The officer said as he wrote down Zeke's full name on the clipboard. He smiled and led Zeke around a little curtain. Here were boxes of pants. Zeke looked at them, they were all black as well. He gulped...this was really happening wasn't it? He was really going to hell.
"Ok, now let me measure you." The male said as he moved down to Zeke's legs. Zeke sighed, and let the man work. He thought that some kind of sexual advance would have come at that point, but the male was professional. Zeke liked this. Even when his inseam was measured, and when his hand grazed Zeke's groin, the male didn't show the slightest sign that he had lost concentration. When the male was done, he helped Zeke out of his pants, and for a moment, admired what he saw...that was only natural for a Bisexual. He then handed Zeke a pair of pants closest to his size and helped Zeke into them.
"Thank you." Zeke said softly.
"You're welcome Z. Alright...now walk around this curtain and get back in line. You want me to check in with you before you get into the train?" He asked.
"That would be nice." Zeke said with a grin.
"Alright, now go." He said, slapping Zeke's butt. Zeke knew he wouldn't have done it if they weren't in privacy, but he accepted it and walked back to the line. He got into the end, and stood there for only about 5 minutes before he reached the ticket master. He was a surly chap, that looked about as friendly as the gun he carried. He was a pit bull. He looked up at Zeke and tipped his cap up.
"Name?" The person asked in a rather annoyed tone. Zeke looked down, and sat the brand new pink triangle on his shirt. He sighed, and said his name. The officer jotted it down, and handed Zeke a ticket. Zeke looked at it. It was red, with little black letters all over it. It told him he was in the third car. Zeke tied the ticket into his wrist, and looked down at the officer. The officer looked up at him slowly, almost as if he was surprised to see him there. "What?" The officer groaned.
"I want to know, how do you assign cars? Is it by badge?" He asked.
The officer sighed and shook his head and gestured over his shoulder. "Look we just fill the trains alright? I give you a ticket, you get on the train understand? If you want to be in a car with another poof, then just hope you got a good car ok? Now get on the train!" The officer barked, making Zeke jump. He nodded, and held his book tighter, and walked through the gate. He found his car, car number 3. This car was so crowded; he wouldn't be able to breathe. He gulped, and stepped forward.
"Hey you!" A voice called. Zeke looked around, and saw the clothing officer stepping forward. He approached Zeke, and looked him over. He muttered something to himself, and looked at the ticket on Zeke's wrist, and muttered again. "God damnit Kyle." He mumbled. He then turned, and pointed to car number 1. He told Zeke to get on it.
"But why?" Zeke asked.
"Because that's an order. I am relocating you to the emptier car number 1 due to the potential risk of you trying to get sexual with your neighbor." He said. Zeke tilted his head, and didn't understand, but he knew that this one was trying to help.
"Yes sir." He said as he walked forward. The officer paced him; he was the last to board the train. As they walked the officer spoke to him.
"My name is Fowler. I'm going to be your main supervisor when we get to the camp, but there are others above me, you understand?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Try to stay calm, ok?" He said as Zeke looked into the car numbered 1. There were only about 15 men and women and children in this car. He stepped inside, and Fowler helped him into his chains. They were chains that kept Zeke's hands down, and his feet together. Zeke sat down, and held his book in his lap. He looked up at Fowler, and feigned a smile.
"I'm going to die." He said.
"Probably...but if you are smart, you'll survive Z. Now it's time to go." Fowler said as he slipped out of the car, and shut the door. A few moments later, the train whistle sounded, and he was headed towards oblivion. The moment finally hit Zeke, and he broke down and cried again. He sniffled, and sobbed. He wasn't the only one in tears on the train that day, but he still felt alienated from the entire world. Zeke thought that he was the only one left on earth, and he was now leaving earth.
The train ride was nothing short of uneventful. Zeke sat, slept, urinated, slept again, and stared off into space. There wasn't anything to do to really keep your mind occupied. Some of the children would invent little games like, "Guess what town we're passing through", or perform little drawing games on the floor by drawing with their claws. Zeke admired the children, they had it worst out of all of the people on the train, but they seemed to not notice anything at all. Zeke counted them. Two were 14-year-old girls, 3 were 10-year-old boys, and one was a 6-year-old boy. The girls were twin sisters, and the boys seemed to have been rounded up from their schoolyard or something, they looked as if they were ready for a day at school, and not an existence in prison. Well, Zeke could remember school being like prison, but not the same.
On the second day of the ride, Zeke was awoken to the feeling of something hitting him. He blinked his eyes, and saw a small red rubber ball resting in his lap, on top of his diary. One of the 14-year-old girls was looking at him, it was probably hers. Everyone was asleep; it was probably near 3 in the morning. She was chained only by her feet to the floor, her arms free to move. She wore a darling little pink dress, with a black triangle on the left part of the chest. She smiled at Zeke, and pointed to the ball.
"Yours?" He asked.
"Yes sir." She said politely.
Zeke rolled the ball to her, which she accepted. She tucked it into her dress, and sat as properly as she could. She tussled her long hair about, and licked her arm. There was a bruise there under her fur, it looked severe. Zeke wondered about this girl. She was a collie, but she seemed to young to be labeled with the black triangle. Zeke leaned forward, and put his diary down, resting his shackled hands on his knees.
"What's your name little miss?" He asked her.
"Martia." She whispered.
"Hmm, just like William's sister." He observed.
"Huh?" She asked, not understanding.
"Oh it's nothing sweetie. Tell me Martia, how did you get here?"
The girl sighed and pulled out the red ball again, and gave it a few squeezes. Her body was only just starting to develop, Zeke figured that she was a late bloomer, but she would be beautiful someday.
"My daddy." She muttered.
"Your father? What about him?"
The girl sighed, and crossed her naked legs that came out from under her dress. "Daddy is a Nazi. One night last week he came home and found me and my twin sister sleeping naked in the same bed. So, he thinks we made love. He puts this badge on me, and sends me here." She said softly.
"Well it is too bad that your Father makes assumptions like that." Zeke said, looking at the girl.
"What assumptions? My twin and me did make love. I just wanted to try it, and so did she." She admitted. Zeke raised an eyebrow, and shrugged.
"Want to hear a secret?" He said. She nodded, and scooted a little closer. "Ok, I was once in love with my own brothers." He said.
"Wow! I thought I was the only one that ever did this kind of thing." She admitted.
"No, people do it all over. It's only when they get caught that something bad happens."
"I guess."
"So, what are you doing up this late?" Zeke asked, as he scratched his kneecaps.
"Can't sleep. I miss my mommy." She sighed.
"Yeah...I miss my family too." Zeke said as he closed his eyes, indicating he was ending the conversation. The girl sighed, and started to bounce the rubber ball. The rhythm of the ball bouncing was peaceful and helped him get to sleep.
* * *
Zeke looked out the door when it was opened, and saw where he was going to stay. He had been sent to Auschwitz! Of any place to be sent, he was sent to Auschwitz. That was an almost definite death sentence. The Nazi troops lined everyone up, and took them to this large courtyard. One by one, their clothes were taken from them, and Zeke saw them all standing Naked, getting examined. He gulped.
Behind him, someone took his diary out of his hands. He looked, and saw Fowler standing there. Fowler said something about him getting it back later, but Zeke wanted it now. He sighed, and just kept walking through the line.
It was his turn to strip naked as he past a table. He handed them his clothes, and ticket, the officer then directed him through the line. Zeke sighed, and walked. He was separated, and was with all the other homosexuals. Not a one was in a good mood. Zeke walked up slowly, as officers in his left and right took his vitals. Next, and officer looked through his hair for lice. After the lice inspection, someone looked over his groin for disease. Soon afterward, a dentist looked at his teeth, and sent him along. Last, Zeke saw a group of naked men, running around in a circle. He was pointed and directed to join them in running. He had to jog for 10 minutes. Apparently, from what he had heard from the other runners that the running was an endurance test. Those that were strong were put to work; those that were week were first in line to die. Zeke smiled a little, his long hair flowing free. He easily ran for that 10 minutes, he was very much in shape. The Nazi officers seemed to take note. Zeke was separated once more, and directed to a small building. There, Jews and fellow homosexuals were getting their hair cut. Zeke this time didn't feel so easy. He hadn't had a hair cut in years.
"What's your problem fag?" An officer behind him bellowed as a gun was put against his naked ass.
"Um...do I have to get my hair cut? I don't have lice or fleas." He said
"Hey...just get in the damn chair before I blow your ass off!" The officer groaned.
"Yes sir." He said.
Zeke sat down, and looked around. The room looked like it moonlighted as an auto garage during the night. There were barber chairs in a row, and the Nazi barbers were working diligently to get these men's hair shaved. Zeke wondered if he would ever get some clothes. He slipped into the cold chair, and was spun around. The officer then looked at him in the mirror. "You're the longest haired one we've had in here all month." He observed. Zeke closed his eyes. He didn't want this to be happening. He hard scissors cutting, and clippers buzzing, as his hair fell around him. He didn't know it, but he was crying. His hair was a symbol of himself. He had grown it out since he was 15; he was going to miss it.
Before he knew it, and before he could wallow in his own self-pity any longer, the Nazi tapped him and pointed to the mirror. "Take a look, I know it's a shock." The officer laughed. Zeke opened his eyes, and looked with horror. He wasn't the same at all. It was a naked and athletic German Shepard, but it didn't look like him. It was as if he was looking at a stranger.
"My God..." Zeke gulped.
"Ah it isn't so bad. Now head over there to get your number."
Zeke followed the others, and headed out the building and into another one. His head felt so cold, the drafty breeze nipping at his scalp. He looked in this building. There were four lines, and four tables. He looked, and gulped at what he saw now. They were tattooing the men in front of him. He wasn't prepared for this. He looked at an officer who seemed to be directing people, and approached him. The officer was looking at a clipboard, and reading something.
"Excuse me? Where do I go now?"
The officer looked up, and pointed a pencil at Zeke. "Name?"
"Von Hurstleburg." He replied.
"Ah, then you will go to table four. Go get in line."
Zeke did. He got in line, and could hear the screams of those less brave than he screaming from the pain. He gulped, he never wanted a tattoo...but now he was going to get one. Zeke saw the male in front of him; he was trying to cover up his nakedness as much as possible. Zeke wasn't modest.
When it was Zeke's turn, he stood in front of a Doberman, armed with a tattoo gun. "Name?" He asked.
"Von Hurstleburg." He said.
"Ah, fag huh? Says here on your profile that's what you get arrested for." The male sneered.
"Yes, I'm a faggot." Zeke answered. He knew he was insulting himself, but he didn't want to argue with his captors. If he was good he might live.
"Alright...lets see...ah, I have your number and measurements here. Let me have your left forearm." The officer ordered. Zeke gulped, and held out his arm. "This is going to hurt, would you like a bullet to bite?" He asked.
"No...no pain you could ever dish out can compare with the other pains I've been through."
The Nazi raised his eyes and for a moment, seemed impressed. He then sneered, and gripped his wrist hard, and set into work. The needle first penetrated about an inch and a half out from the bend in his elbow. He didn't wince, but the pain was no little thing to overcome. He heard the buzzing of the needle, and felt the ink being injected into his arm. He looked down, and saw the male drawing a pink triangle into his arm. He had to admit, the person giving the tattoo was a good artist. After the triangle was drawn, the man switched inks to a dark green, and began to write numbers after he outlined the symbol. Zeke looked down, and watched the man tattoo. It was interesting to see, but it hurt like hell. When it was done, his arm looked something like this:
"So, this is my number?" He asked, the officer changed needles, and sterilized the wound. Zeke howled at the feeling of alcohol on his fresh tattoo.
"Yes, and you better not forget it. This is your name to us now. When we call your number, you better respond to it. You also had better be able to give us your number without looking at your arm, understand?"
"Yes sir." Zeke sighed.
"What's your number Poof?" He asked. Zeke was caught off guard; he didn't know he'd get tested already.
"Um...111062?" He asked. The officer smiled, and nodded once,
"Close enough. It's 1110642. Now go and get some fucking clothes on. Just follow the others."
"Yes sir."
Behind Zeke, he could hear the sound of some commotion, Officers all leaped up to see what was going on. Zeke stopped in the doorway, and saw a person struggling to keep from getting tattooed. He was a huge and handsome wolf, he was fighting off a lot of the troops.
"You aren't going to mark me!" He kept repeating over and over again. Zeke sighed, and walked his way to the clothing warehouse. Once inside, he looked. There was a chicken wire fence, with counter that ran the length of the warehouse. In-between the counter and the chicken wire fence were about a 6-inch high gap, so things could be slipped in and out. Zeke headed up, and saw a few of the prisoners working this area. They wore white and black vertical striped uniforms, with their numbers on their left breast just above their symbols. A Jewish feline looked over the counter and sighed.
"Number?" He asked. Zeke sighed, and decided to practice his number thing.
"1110624." He said, and then looked down at his arm to check. He was right. The person behind him looked at the clothes on the other side, and slid 3 shirts, 3 pairs of pants, 3 pairs of underwear, and 1 pair of boots. He was told to dress outside the door, and by that point, he would be taken to his area. He did as he was told, as he walked outside, and slipped on his outfit. He ran a hand over his hair (what was left of it.) and shed a tear. Here he was.
Zeke was directed to the barracks, and was housed in house number 9. Number 9 was actually one of the better places he could have ended up. There were small beds, and several bunks. He guessed he had it better than some for some reason. He looked around, and saw only about 5 other homosexuals in the bunkhouse. One was sitting on his bunk smoking; the other 4 were sitting in a corner playing cards. Zeke walked in, and the one homosexual on the bunk stood. He was a rotund one, and looked like a bad apple. He waddled over to Zeke and poked him in the chest.
"Well, look at the fresh meat. Mmm I bet you make love like mink." He said as he traced a finger across Zeke's chest. Behind him, the door opened again, and someone was thrown in. He was still naked. It was that wolf that had been giving the Nazi's so much trouble. He plopped down on a bed, and laid there, letting his folded up clothes drop.
Zeke groaned when he felt the male touch him again.
"What are you doing?"
"Sampling the new guys. You are all my property in here...you don't give it up to me and I send you to the bossman." He grinned.
Zeke growled, he felt his depression and fear melt into anger once more. He looked at this rotund one, and puffed his chest out a little.
"I don't care if your name is Adolph Hitler! You are not going to touch me!" Zeke barked. The other four guys looked up, and cringed in their corner. It was as if they were afraid of the two of them. The other new guy laughed, and snickered, thinking this display would be interesting.
"What are you going to do about it poof? You haven't got what I got, and I'll kick your ass." He groaned.
"That's It!" Zeke growled.
Zeke reared back with his right hand, clenched a fist, and sent it flying. The fist connected with the man's left temple, and sent him down to one knee. Zeke, in years past, would have injured himself performing such a maneuver, but what with his vigorous workout schedule he had, he had earned his strength and power. Zeke then took his left hand, and began to rocket fists over and over again into the dome and muzzle of the rotund prisoner. The fat man went down, making feeble attempts to fight back, but ended up getting a kick in the face and chest for his troubles.
Before long, Zeke had pummeled the man to unconsciousness. He growled, and grabbed the man by his pants, and helped him to a stand, and gave him a kick out the door, slamming it shut behind him. The four others in the corner smiled as if they had achieved freedom. Zeke sighed, and grabbed a hold of the fat fuck's cigarettes, and lit one as he hopped onto his bunk. He smoked it...and then rolled onto his side, and fell asleep.
* * *
"Hey...wake up!" Came someone's whispering voice.
"What do you want..." Zeke mumbled from his bunk, being shook from his sleep.
"Wake up, I want to talk to you."
Zeke groaned, and grabbed one of his shirts off his bunk hangar, and threw it on. He didn't button it up, but he was cold. Once he had that on, he scanned around the room. The only one that looked awake was the crazy wolf, which was lying in the bunk next to his. Zeke, sat up in bed, and scratched his underwear-clad groin.
"I'm up...what do you want?" Zeke asked calmly.
The other male smiled, and nodded his hair. "I was right about you. You aren't just another weakling. You have balls."
Zeke scoffed. "What makes you say that?"
The male leaned up, his blankets falling off his naked torso a little. "The way you stood up to that bastard. I saw that." The man whispered.
"Well...I did what I had to. I am sick of men using me for sex." Zeke said as he turned away from the man and stared at the wall in front of him. Every once in a while, the spotlight would pass over the barracks, and light up the room. The room wasn't much to look at. The bunks were rickety, and were dangerous for the one on top. There were also little hooks to hang up your shirts, but if you weren't careful you could hook almost any body part into those things.
The male next to Zeke stayed silent for a moment, and then punched his pillow once. Zeke turned in time to see the male leap out of bed clad only in white briefs, jump on top of him and wrap his hands around his throat. Zeke's eyes shot open, and he gagged.
"Ok, what do you have to do now? I say unless you prove to me otherwise you have to let me choke you out." The male grunted.
The hands around Zeke's neck were powerful, and he could feel his throat being compressed. He looked up, and growled back at the male on top of him. Zeke hadn't the slightest clue as to why this male was choking him, but he was going to stop it. In the few seconds of concentration Zeke had, he recognized that one of the support beams to the upper bunk was a few narrow inches from the back of this male's head. Zeke looked up, and wrapped his own powerful hands around the male's throat, and shoved him up into the beam, sending a resounding thud through the room. The male's grip was broken, and Zeke removed his right hand, and sent a punch to the left temple of the male. The punch connected, but unlike the other male this one's skull structure was harder and was stronger against front impacts. The wolf shook his head, and made a noise as he righted himself. Zeke then stood up and stepped aside from his bed, and grabbed the ruffian by his chest, and hoisted him in a hip toss up and over his head and onto the guy's own bed. The male bounced once, and but a moment it reminded Zeke of those wrestlers he once saw.
Zeke positioned his body on top of the male's and sat on his stomach. The male looked up, and saw that Zeke was about to punch, and he smiled. Zeke looked confused, and in a blinding flash, the male leaned in and pressed his lips to Zeke's. Zeke was taken back...he didn't expect this....but hell this guy is a good kisser at least. Zeke felt the man kiss at him for a while, and after a while, melted into the flow of things. Soon, he found himself laying side by side with him in the bed kissing.
"I can't believe it, first you're trying to kill each other, now your damn near fucking each other" Said a random voice in the room.
"Shut the fuck up!" Both Zeke and the male barked towards the voice in unison. The voice was silent, and the pair went back to staring at the other. They laid like that, just staring at the other for a while.
"I bet I never get back to sleep tonight." The male whispered.
"Same here." Zeke said, looking at this odd gray wolf across from him. "So, what was this all about?"
The male adjusted an erection, and snickered once. "I had to be sure about you. I saw you get off the train, and I thought to myself, 'Damn he's a big fella, I wonder what kind of a male he is.' And then I see you defend yourself like that. I've run into too many Poofs that just lie down and take their abuse. You, you didn't take it. You didn't even take my abuse, and sad to say you kicked my ass. I've been looking for a man like you for a long time, someone that I have something in common with." The male said, as he put a ginger hand on Zeke's left bicep. The male tested them, squeezing them to see how toned they were, and he was surprised when he felt how incredibly hard they were.
"Yeah?" Zeke asked.
"Yeah. Where I come from, the Poofs are all weaklings that walk around like fairies. Those ones turn me off. You want to know something?" The male began.
"Sure." Zeke said, beginning to trust this guy.
"The only reason people around town knew I was homosexual was because of my badge. If I didn't have it on, no one could tell. I don't flaunt it like the other Poofs around my city do; all I do is save it for a more private setting." He said, scooting a little closer.
"So you aren't outwardly gay like I am?" Zeke asked.
"No. I dress in normal men's clothes, and I even hang out with women during the daylight hours. At night, I go to the local queer bars to pick up a man, and then I take them back to my flat. Until recently, I had avoided a relationship because of the off chance someone may see it. Well, 3 months ago, my favorite sex partner told me he wanted to be my boyfriend. I told him that he had to keep any public displays to an absolute minimal. The stupid fuck, he kisses me right as we walk out of our house, and on the street corner is an SS officer. So I get the pink triangle, and I get sent to re-education classes." The male sighed.
"I've heard about those. They try to 'turn' you straight." Zeke groaned. For a brief moment, he felt the absolute slightest brush of the tip of his cock. He looked down, and noticed they both were sporting tents in their briefs and they were mere millimeters apart. Zeke got bold and pressed their groins together, giving him a momentary wash of pleasure. The male seemed to have a similar experience, making Zeke smile.
"Try is the key word."
"So what happened next?" Zeke asked, beginning to be lulled to sleep by the wolf's body heat and oddly soothing voice.
The male cleared his throat for a moment, and began to rub Zeke's hip gently. "Well, the classes failed. I wouldn't do anything with the women they provided me. So, the considered it insubordination and they flung me in a car, and drove me a mile out of town. The Nazi's then pistol whipped me a few times and told me never to return to the city if I wanted to live," The male began as he laughed and rubbed a scar on the top of his head. "The fuckers shouldn't have let me see the license plate of their car. I walked back into town, found that car, and stole it! I had been driving across country for a few days until I got caught. I ran out of gas, and I had to stop off in this no-namer town to get fuel. The guy pumping the gas wasn't a station attendant at all; he was an SS officer! He jumped me when I had my back turned and knocked me out cold. The next thing I knew I was registered to be sent here. Now here I am."
Zeke sighed in amazement. "Wow. That's an interesting story."
"Really? Well I suppose that I'm glad you like it." The male said.
Silence fell on the two as they simply looked into the other's eyes. Zeke felt something in him. He felt lust for most, but this was real love. He felt more love for this male than he ever did for Fritz when he first met him. Zeke leaned in, and pressed their lips together, and their tongues mingled and mixed in a kiss that proved his love. Zeke wondered; if he would become prone to having these kinds of spontaneous relationships, but the odd thing was this time he actually did want to love him. He wanted more out of this male than just sex. No boy in the world at this point could compare with this, almost arranged meeting, no matter how odd it may have happened.
Zeke's tongue explored that other male's mouth, and began to run it's way across the silken surface of the delicate membranes of his mouth. The other male held his breath as they went at it, kissing like he had never before. Their hands explored, but they didn't have sex. For some reason, it wasn't needed at that point.
The two then found themselves sleeping, embraced in the bed.
Around 6 in the morning, there came a shouting at their door.
"Wake up! Wake Up! Time for work all of you!" Came an angry voice. Zeke and the male stood up, and looked at each other, they smiled awkwardly. Zeke turned around and dressed himself, buttoning up his shirt, and slipping into his pants. He slipped on his boots next and once done, an officer slipped into the barracks. Zeke turned around, and nearly shit a brick when he saw whom it was. Schmidt.
"Well, good! All of you faggots are up on time. That's one thing you have over the other people here. Now, I want you all to line up for duty!"
For once, the Poofs in the room all moved with courage that they had not exhibited previously. They all lined up behind Zeke and the wolf male. Zeke was second in line, and the four Poofs behind him. Zeke wondered what "work" they had in mind.
Schmidt looked over, and saw Zeke standing there. Schmidt's grin widened, and he stepped over to him.
"Well, Von Hurstleburg...I see that you finally made it here." Schmidt said with a smirk.
"Yes...thanks to you."
Schmidt looked him up and down, and stepped back a little. Schmidt had a pair of riding goggles on his head; perhaps he'd be taking a ride later. Zeke hoped a ride right off a cliff.
"Well, what are we supposed to do now?" Zeke asked.
"Today, you shall begin work, and work you shall. You are going to work from dawn and until dusk. You are going to work for your food, and work for your life. If you do not work, you do not live. If you do work, then you live as long as I let you live!" Schmidt said with a keen sense evil and happiness.