Enemy of Me: Enemy of the State (Jonas)

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Strumfelder walked the concrete corridors of the basement, his cane taping the ground with each step. Behind each of the thick steel doors came some version of a scream. Most equalled extreme pain, few equalled death. Flanked by his Sergeant and a Gestapo Sergeant, Strumfelder made his way around the place. The lighting gave the place an eerie feeling, as rats darted around the stinking floor, and the shadows caught lumps of missing concrete from the walls. The passed one large room, were a sudden bout of five gunshots could be heard echoing behind the door. Guards marched up and down, dressed immaculately for the squalid environment.

A door on Strumfelder right was opened as the trio passed. A screaming man was dragged though, dressed in little more than rags which were heavily blood soaked. He was pulled along the corridor in front of Strumfelder, his hands hand cuffed, two Corporals holding onto his arms. A Sergeant let them and they dragged the man to a small alcove in the wall, which resembled a shower cubical, with a tiled floor and wall. The man continued to scream as he was pushed in, and his hands were locked to a hook high in the wall. Strumfelder slowed down to watch the procedure.

The Sergeant seemed to be in a foul mood, but also wanted this man dead. He ripped a Parang from its sheath in his webbing, which was inscribed with Hiragana. The man began to scream out even louder, begging for help, water streaming from his eyes. Strumfelder grinned, entertained. The Sergeant pressed the tip of the blade against the top of the prisoner’s breast bone and pushed down slightly. Blood welled up around it. The prisoner continued to struggle, but got no where. The Sergeant quickly pulled back with the blade and brought the length of it down on the centre of the chest, the target marked by the small red spot.

The breastbone folded inward, and the prisoner suddenly ran out breath as his chest became a bloody mass. The Sergeant lifted his boot and pressed it against the chest, while tugging the blade free. It came away easily. He then stepped back and brought the blade around, decapitating the man in one straight swipe. The stump stood straight and squirted blood twice, before going completely limp. The Sergeant removed a piece of white cloth from his breast pocket and wiped the knife clean before sheathing it. The three soldiers wondered back to the cell they had come from, the Sergeant lighting a cigarette as the other two joked. The body was left

Strumfelder moved on and reached his destination; a cell identical to any other, three metres by three metres. The Gestapo Sergeant battered on the door. The vision slit opened revealing two grey eyes. A moment later, the heavy door swung open on two hinges which desperately needed oiling. Strumfelder entered first and saw his friend sitting behind a wooden table, handcuffed and sitting on a wooden chair. The Gestapo Sergeant moved off, his job done, and the guard in the room stepped outside, cradling his MP34. Jonsen stepped behind the prisoner as the door swung shut. Strumfelder beamed. “Guten Abend, Jonas.”

[Jonas Merhoff]

Jonas patiently awaited his interrogation in the uncomfortable Gestapo cell. His wrists were in constant pain from the tight handcuffs and his movement was restricted by them. His arms were stiff and sore and he had already obtained a substantial amount of bruises in the short period of time he had been at the prison. He could remember vividly the guard standing before him beating him into a pulp with his Schlagringe or brass knuckles. Jonas was different to say the least. He didn't beg for mercy nor did he receive it. He endured the pain without showing its effects.

He hung his head low as he passed the time counting the stripes on his new, yet already old, prison uniform. Then he moved on to count its cuts and then its stains. He began to clench and open his fists as they became numb from the hand cuffs and took in the screams of pain and misery. He had gone about the situation very calmly and silently. He had grown to be quite an item of interest within the jail and the guards had created a betting pool on who could break him first. The guard before him with his MP34 had done his best to break and intimidate him with both his weapon and his brass knuckles, but gave up after 15 minutes.

Something pounded against the door and Jonas's head shot up. His blond hair was greasy and matted and streaked with sweat. His face was littered with blood, dirt, and sweat as he his pupils burned into the back of the guard's head. Jonas finally had a visitor, Erhard Strumfelder. His lips formed a faint grin as the vision slit slid shut and the wooden door was unlocked and opened. The light from the hall, no matter how dim, penetrated the darkness of the room and temporarily blinded the Hauptmann. Strumfelder stepped through into the darkness like an angel with his servant, Jonsen, quickly followed and circling around to the back of the room. Just as quickly as the door was opened and its new inhabitants flooded in, it slammed shut. The light faded away and left Jonas disoriented, but a singe light bulb above managed to give off some illumination.

"Guten Abend, Jonas." The Hauptmann's eyes had adjusted from the brief light to the dim light of the cell, and he could make out Strumfelder's disfigured face of Strumfelder. One side red and scarred... the other side didn't look that pretty either. An ugly bastard all around. Was he yet another intent on cracking the Hauptmann? It disgusted Jonas how much disrespect this new generation of Germans had been raised. But he would show none of that in return. The man couldn't even speak his rank, one superior to his own, and called him by his first name? It made Jonas want to spit.

"Guten abend, Doktor." Jonas spoke and nodded at the man, matching the Doctor's beam. He was glad to be in the presence of the Doctor and looking forward to a discussion. The manner in which he believed would be a heated topic. He was not authorized to act the way in which he did... not in the slightest. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Doctor Strumfelder. When will you learn? Jonas brought his cuffed hands up from beneath the table and set them gently down on top the table, straightening his back to look formal. His fingers interlocked and he waited for the interrogation to begin.

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

OOC: These posts will probably be shorter than normal, seeing as we are talking more than anything.

Strumfelder glared at the guard, who stepped out sight and pulled shut the heavy door. The three men were alone. “So genießen Sie Ihren neuen Wohnsitz, Jonas? Sie schauen, als ob Sie sind. Streifen entsprechen Ihnen übrigens, es ist gerade ein Mitleid, das Sie sie nicht sauber halten konnten.” Strumfelder was enjoying himself. He was underground, and alone with a stuck up man who deserved nothing more than pain. And Strumfelder would inflict it. He nodded at Jonsen, who smacked the Captain over the back of the head with his weapon.

Strumfelder paced up and down the small room, planning. He needed to get rid of this man, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have any fun. He would toy with him for a few hours, then if didn’t admit to being a traitor, Strumfelder would kill him, and leave the Gestapo to clear up the mess. That reminded him; he had to go after the Vlaktes soon, and flush that bastard out. His brother had already notified the German people of the murderous threat.

“Jonas, schneller Sie zulassen, dass Sie sind ein Verräter zu den deutschen Leuten, beenden die eher diese Schmerz. Und wir können für Tage, sogar Wochen fortfahren, ohne zu ermüden. Ich habe härtere Willen als Ihre geknackt.” He nodded to Jonsen once more, who this time grabbed the Captain’s head in a lock, and began to strangle him. After a few seconds, Jonsen released, and then smashed his MP40 again into the Captain’s skull. He was also enjoying this.

This Captain would have his soul ripped apart. “Sie müssen für ich bitten Sie um um Jonas, was leben? Sie sind ein Mann im Schutz mit dem Getsapo, haben Sie bald nicht einen Befehl, und das Mädchen, das Sie schienen, so sehr zu lieben, ist jetzt tot, weil Sie nicht das Gör speichern wollten. Müssen Sie für so was leben?”




Translations:
~ “So genießen Sie Ihren neuen Wohnsitz, Jonas? Sie schauen, als ob Sie sind. Streifen entsprechen Ihnen übrigens, es ist gerade ein Mitleid, das Sie sie nicht sauber halten konnten.”
So, are you enjoying your new residence, Jonas? You look as if you are. Stripes suit you by the way, it is just a pity you could not keep them clean.

“Jonas, schneller Sie zulassen, dass Sie sind ein Verräter zu den deutschen Leuten, beenden die eher diese Schmerz. Und wir können für Tage, sogar Wochen fortfahren, ohne zu ermüden. Ich habe härtere Willen als Ihre geknackt.”
~ Jonas, the faster you admit that you are a traitor to the German people, the sooner this pain will end. And we can continue for days, even weeks without tiring. I have cracked harder wills than yours.

“Sie müssen für ich bitten Sie um um Jonas, was leben? Sie sind ein Mann im Schutz mit dem Getsapo, haben Sie bald nicht einen Befehl, und das Mädchen, das Sie schienen, so sehr zu lieben, ist jetzt tot, weil Sie nicht das Gör speichern wollten. Müssen Sie für so was leben?”
~ I ask you Jonas, what do you have to live for? You are a man in the custody with the Getsapo, you soon will not have a command, and the girl who you seemed to love so much is now dead, because you did not want to save the brat. So what do you have to live for?

[Jonas Merhoff]

Jonas sat quietly and calmly. He was collected as he watched Strumfelder's every move, his eyes hadn't seen much of anything for days so even a man walking was entertainment. Especially a pissed, stuck up Doctor with a temper problem. Did he actually expect Jonas to fear this man, because he would be able to pull some strings and kill him? A laugh. Jonas was raised in pain and hate, lived through war and death. The thought of death stopped scaring him the day he became a teenage NCO in the Great War. After overcoming a fear of death, there isn't much else to be afraid of. Not even torture. But death as a lowly criminal in Gestapo jail cell, because a Doctor wanted his way? Not very appealing.

He felt the string of a weapon smashing against the back of this head and then the throbbing pain that followed it. But he only lurched forward and then situated himself in his seat as if it hadn't affected him. The Doctor began to pace back and forth in the room, probably thinking of how to torture him. The only torture for me would be having me relive the horrors of my life. Pity you can't do that, isn't it Doctor? Jonas thought in the back of his mind. Physical pain, emotional pain, mental pain...which did the Doctor wish to cause as he threatened the man and then accused him of treason?

He felt the MP40 of the Sergeant come around front and then felt it against this throat. The Sergeant pulled it up against Jonas's throat and forced the air out of him for several seconds. Then he bashed Jonas again with the MP40, but Jonas only reorientated himself and then looked onward. Strumfelder was enjoying himself now, but Jonas barely felt hurt. He just had to suck in more air and deal with a slight dizziness. Of course the Doctor came in here for sanctification. In his book, Jonas was a dead man. Jonas knew people like him far too well and the only way to save himself was to escape. And then deal with the Doctor. He just had to prolong his life a little further. "Sie müssen für ich bitten Sie um um Jonas, was leben? Sie sind ein Mann im Schutz mit dem Getsapo, haben Sie bald nicht einen Befehl, und das Mädchen, das Sie schienen, so sehr zu lieben, ist jetzt tot, weil Sie nicht das Gör speichern wollten. Müssen Sie für so was leben?"

Jonas looked up into the Doctor's eyes and murmured, "Eine interessante Frage in der Tat. Sie wissen, bat mich ich um um den einmal vorher. Als ich nach Hause, aber verließ, meine Antwort lag auf der Hand, nachdem ich im ersten Weltkrieg diente. Deutschland. Ich lebe für Deutschland. Nach Bezirken zwar, wurde es eine dunstige Spitze. Dann wurde es noch einmal frei. Adolf Hitler sprach mit mir, als ob es nur ich war. Ich wurde ich würde folgen ihm zu den Enden der Erde sicher. Ich lebe für Deutschland und mein Fuhrer. Ich habe im Militär mein gesamtes Leben gedient und das ist, wo mein Leben immer ist. Die deutsche Armee ist meine Familie praktisch, ich würde verraten sie nie." Jonas paused for a moment and then scanned over the Doctor with his eyes.

"Doktor, haben Sie überhaupt dieser Richtung des Stolzes und der Widmung vorher geglaubt? Ein dass Sie froh Ihr Leben für Ihre Leute und Führer riskieren würden, die auf dem Schlachtfeld täglich sind? Es ist die schwierige Sache, zum mit fertig zu werden und innen hier geworfen wird und diese Bindung, die getrennt wird. Nachdem es mein Land und Fuhrer mein gesamtes Leben… gedient hat, ist es unvorstellbar, zu haben innen hier zu sterben. Oder seien Sie innen hier." Of course the Doctor had never felt it. He only felt it towards the preachings of his Fuhrer. The German Army was nothing to this man. He probably thought it a bunch of traitors that were sent to their deaths fighting for Germany. The ignorant bastards in the SS dignified themselves as "elite" and therefore better than the Wehrmacht.

Jonas eyes looked quizzical as he sat there awaiting an answer. He also had a look to him as if he already knew Strumfelder was going to have him killed. But there was one more thing to clarify. "Was ist diese Liebe, die Sie von sprechen, Doktor? Wenn ich das Mädchen liebte, wouldn' t I haben innen wie ein Held gefegt? Ich benötigte sie ja, aber ich interessierte mich wenig für diesen faulen Abschaum. Ich wünschte Informationen von ihr, ich zeigte ihr Mitleid nie. Ich dachte nie, dass Sie sie zwar töten würden."

Translations:


"Eine interessante Frage in der Tat. Sie wissen, bat mich ich um um den einmal vorher. Als ich nach Hause, aber verließ, meine Antwort lag auf der Hand, nachdem ich im ersten Weltkrieg diente. Deutschland. Ich lebe für Deutschland. Nach Bezirken zwar, wurde es eine dunstige Spitze. Dann wurde es noch einmal frei. Adolf Hitler sprach mit mir, als ob es nur ich war. Ich wurde ich würde folgen ihm zu den Enden der Erde sicher. Ich lebe für Deutschland und mein Fuhrer. Ich habe im Militär mein gesamtes Leben gedient und das ist, wo mein Leben immer ist. Die deutsche Armee ist meine Familie praktisch, ich würde verraten sie nie."
- "An interesting question indeed. You know, I asked myself that once before. When I left home, but my answer was obvious after I served in the first World War. Germany. I live for Germany. After wards though, it became a bit hazy. Then it became clear once more. Adolf Hitler spoke to me as if it was only me. I became certain I would follow him to the ends of the earth. I live for Germany and my Fuhrer. I have served in the military my entire life and that is where my life will always be. The German army is my family practically, I would never betray it."

"Doktor, haben Sie überhaupt dieser Richtung des Stolzes und der Widmung vorher geglaubt? Ein dass Sie froh Ihr Leben für Ihre Leute und Führer riskieren würden, die auf dem Schlachtfeld täglich sind? Es ist die schwierige Sache, zum mit fertig zu werden und innen hier geworfen wird und diese Bindung, die getrennt wird. Nachdem es mein Land und Fuhrer mein gesamtes Leben… gedient hat, ist es unvorstellbar, zu haben innen hier zu sterben. Oder seien Sie innen hier."
- "Doctor, have you ever felt that sense of pride and dedication before? One that you would gladly risk your life for your people and leaders every day on the battlefield? It is difficult thing to cope with, being thrown in here and that bond being severed. After serving my country and Fuhrer my entire life... it is unimaginable to have die in here. Or be in here."

"Was ist diese Liebe, die Sie von sprechen, Doktor? Wenn ich das Mädchen liebte, wouldn' t I haben innen wie ein Held gefegt? Ich benötigte sie ja, aber ich interessierte mich wenig für diesen faulen Abschaum. Ich wünschte Informationen von ihr, ich zeigte ihr Mitleid nie. Ich dachte nie, dass Sie sie zwar töten würden."
- "What is this love you speak of, Doctor? If I loved the girl, wouldn't I have swept in like a hero? I needed her yes, but I cared little for that rotten scum. I wanted information from her, I never showed her compassion. I never thought you would kill her though."

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Strumfelder refused to be spoken to as this man was. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was as if this man viewed Strumfelder as his equal. They were very far apart, and Strumfelder was far higher on the ladder. This man my hold command and have experience, but genetically he was far from clean, and he’d even tried to oppose the rise of the master race. The one man in the world who had tried to help the master race, and this bastard was trying to belittle his greatness. Adolf Hitler was a genius like no other. He was a leader, as Jesus lead men. And what had happened to the two peoples who had tried to destroy Jesus. One had their empire crumble and shatter, attacked on all sides by barbarians. The other people were hated and were even now being destroyed and eradicated by the Führer’s elite. That was justice.

Bu this man was trying to pervert its natural course through history, and every word which came out of this man s month meant the opposite. That was the only way Strumfelder could see through him. He lives for Germany and Hitler? A sense of pride and dedication? He never showed her compassion?! This man though he was smart, but Strumfelder was far brighter and sharper. If this man was so great and glorious, how had Strumfelder seen through him? And how had he ended himself here. He wanted to think he was smart, but he was nothing more than a fool. After all, who would not follow the Führer to the ends of the earth? Only a fool.

No, this man would be punished for his words. If he would not show pain, maybe the pain should leave its mark on him. Strumfelder stopped his pacing, and whipped out his combat knife, sheathed on his belt. He held it by the tip of the handle between two gloved fingers as the two men wondered what he was doing. He looked at Merhoff with great contempt, remaining silent. He threw the knife quickly, at Jonsen face. The Sergeant shot his hand up and out, and caught the blade by the handle, pleased he had passed the minor challenge. “Wenn Jonas hier überrascht war, als ich das Mädchen tötete, möglicherweise ist er sogar überrascht, wenn er einen Finger löst?”

Strumfelder beamed. Jonsen chuckled slightly and clutched tightly down on the Captain’s wrist, pushing it into the table. “Kämpfen nicht Jonas, denn ich entferne Sie Hand.” Strumfelder spoke calmly, still smiling. Jonsen lifted the blade high above his head, as if about to commit a sacrifice to some Pagan god. The metal glinted in the light, as it was brought straight down with extreme force. It sliced straight through the flesh of the left small finger, and splintered the bone in two. It then continued on and embedded itself in the wood.

Strumfelder reached forward and lifted the severed finger. Blood dripped from the end. He smiled again, then spun, and gathered a mass of the Captain’s hair between his own fingers. Still gripping, he stepped behind the man tightly twisting the hair. He tugged backwards until the Captain was starting at the ceiling. Strumfelder then placed the end of the bloody finger on the exposed forehead, and drew an SS rune.

“Lassen Sie uns unseren Freund sicherstellen kann an uns auf eine andere Art sich erinnern.” Strumfelder released the Captain, and then with a tug, removed the knife. “Pin seine Hände zum Tabelle, Palmen aufwärts.” Strumfelder ordered. Jonsen did as ordered. Strumfelder then moved. He carved two deep lines on the Captain’s right hand, intersecting at right angles to from a cross, which ran the length of the hand. He then added a tail to the end of each line, a ninety degrees to the main, forming a swastika. He then took the left hand, and carved three vertical lines, each stepped. He then joined the end of the first with the top of the last with one more line, which cut straight through the centre of the middle. Blood flowed into the cup. A Wolf’s Angle.

Translations:
“Wenn Jonas hier überrascht war, als ich das Mädchen tötete, möglicherweise ist er sogar überrascht, wenn er einen Finger löst?”
~ If Jonas here was surprised when I killed the girl, maybe he will be even more surprised when he looses a finger?

“Kämpfen nicht Jonas, denn ich entferne Sie Hand.”
~ Do not struggle Jonas, for I will remove you hand.

“Lassen Sie uns unseren Freund sicherstellen kann an uns auf eine andere Art sich erinnern.”
~ Let us make sure our friend can remember us in another way.

“Pin seine Hände zum Tabelle, Palmen aufwärts.”
~ Pin his hands to the table, palms upwards.