Heimkehr [E. Strumfelder]

[Heidi]

Country: Germany
Current Time: 15:18
Weather Conditions: A cloudless sky, nice and warm. The mercury reads 18 degrees Celsius, which is a reasonable temperature. The sun is shining brightly.

OOC - Title is German; translated, it means "homecoming".


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She had been riding in the car for several hours, still a bit distant and unsure of what was going on. A thin blanket was wrapped around Adelheid, and she was curled up in the back seat, lying against the door and watching the scenery pass by. The stitches on her face had been removed, and all that remained of her facial wounds were a pair of long, thing, whitish-pinkish scars. This was the only improvement her appearance held, though; she was still pale-skinned and emaciated. Still refusing to eat, the guards had been forced to carry her out to the car, Adelheid's knees buckling after just a few steps.

With a quiet sigh, the girl slid downwards slightly, tempted to fall asleep. However, the guards told her not to, saying that she would be meeting someone very important soon enough. They said if she fell asleep, Adelheid would go back to the prison - and she did not want to go back there. Even though Doctor Strumfelder hadn't been there, it was still a horrible place, and everyone was mean to her. The little boy who had visited her - Aksel, she thought his name was - had even shown a more vicious side. He had tried to hit her when she had tried to give him back his journal.

The car made a fluid U-turn, just as a man in the vehicle's front passenger seat pointed. He and the driver murmured to each other, speaking of some sort of house they were bringing Adelheid to. Adelheid had no idea why they were taking her to a house; as far as she knew, Doctor Strumfelder was dead, and she had no place to go. They might have been taking her to an orphanage...but Adelheid couldn't really tell. Who could, especially when Nazis were involved? The Nazis were always sneaky, always cruel and trying to make people miserable. Doctor Strumfelder was a perfect example of a Nazi, and the boy, Aksel...he had been too, she guessed.

Adelheid lifted her head slightly when the ride stopped. Wearily, she looked up at a lavish-looking building, five stories high and made of red and brown brick. The Nazis up front exited the car, but not before a small discussion amongst themselves. Adelheid couldn't tell what they were saying all that well, but it had to do with questions and answers....

One Nazi made his way to the back. He unlocked and opened the door, swiftly grabbing the girl before she could fall onto the sidewalk. In moments, the Nazi hefted her into his arms, blanket and all, and quickly spun around on his heel. The car was shut with a swift kick, and the other Nazi re-locked the doors, the two proceeding towards the building afterwards. Their charge kept looking up at the building, her mouth a little "o", wondering where the Nazis were taking her.

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

What he did to impress his superiors sometimes… Taking a girl hostage, blackmailing the Kripo, getting shot, and then letting her live in his private residence! Oh, he was looking forward to the day when he could simply shoot this girl. One quick bullet through her inky, black heart. That would be heaven, a nice piece of vengeance for all the pain this orphan had caused him. He would make it slow and enjoy her pain, her screams of agony as her life slowly slipped away. And then he would wreak the rewards. The promotion, the extra pay, and the feeling that he was God, choosing he lived and who died, and how long it took. Strumfelder’s name would be spoken with the utmost fear throughout his enemies, and with the greatest admiration from his peers, as he surpassed them. Those were the dreams of Erhard Strumfelder.

The wounds this brat had given him did not hurt, after his daily ‘medication’. Who could deny the glorious feelings that they provided. They may not be good for you but Strumfelder was living inside a wreck’s body; little more could damage this vessel. That feeling of euphoria was wonderful and it took the edge off the constant pains inside his soul. With them, the world was such a nice place, where even the most evil of actions seemed only mildly wrong.

The Doctor left his penthouse and walked out onto his private floor, and waited at the elevator. He checked his watch as he admired a view over the Third Reich’s capital. In the distance he could see the Olympic stadium, and down on the street the vehicle which was carrying his special cargo. A moment later, the elevators gauge showed that somebody was ascending. Strumfelder slowly flipped open his holster and removed his pistol, letting the gloved hand holding it rest at his hip. In his other hand, he held his silver walking cane.

The doors parted and revealed two Kripo men, one holding the girl. They both looked slightly shocked to staring down the barrel of a gun, but Strumfelder grinned slightly. His face fell however when he examined the girl. “Obergefreiter, hat das Mädchen Beine?” The Doctor asked. The man looked slightly baffled by the question. “Ja, Herr Unterärtzlichführer.” Strumfelder rose the aim of his weapon up to the man’s face. “Dann interessieren Sie sich, um mir zu erklären, warum sie sie nicht benutzt?” The man looked slightly shocked at the question, fumbling for an answer. “Gut erklärt ich, dass sie ist sehr schwach…” Strumfelder’s eyes widened, seeing this as being spoken back to. “Sie ist schwach! Dass Weibchen, das Sie in Ihren Armen halten, versuchte, mich zu töten! Schießen Sie mich! Meine Wunden schwächen mich ständig, während sie nicht mit dem Gehen einfach gestört werden kann!?” His eyes bore into both the girls and the soldier’s. His companion stood back, trying to stay clear of the crossfire.

With that, Strumfelder ripped away the blanket and threw it onto the floor. He then grabbed the soldiers collar and dragged him across the room, discarding his cane on the floor. The man looked shocked but did not want to anger Strumfelder further with resistance. The Doctor pulled him over to two doors which led out onto a small balcony. Strumfelder kicked them open with his boot and dragged the man outside. Then, with a vicious kick from behind, Strumfelder sent the man over the small waist high railings which bordered the balcony. He screamed as he fell, shocked at what was happening. Finally he struck the roof of a car below, crumpling the chassis and shattering the windows, as well as many bones in his body.
Strumfelder turned and walked back into the room, shutting the doors behind him. He reached down cautiously and lifted the blanket, before tossing it at the other soldier. “Verlassen Sie, bevor Sie Ihrem Freund folgen.”

Translations:
“Obergefreiter, hat das Mädchen Beine?”
- Obergefreiter, does the girl have legs?

“Ja, Herr Unterärtzlichführer.”
- Yes, Sir.

“Dann interessieren Sie sich, um mir zu erklären, warum sie sie nicht benutzt?”
~ Then will you care to explain to me why she is not using them?

“Gut erklärt ich, dass sie ist sehr schwach…”
~ Well, I am told she is very weak...

“Sie ist schwach! Dass Weibchen, das Sie in Ihren Armen halten, versuchte, mich zu töten! Schießen Sie mich! Meine Wunden schwächen mich ständig, während sie nicht mit dem Gehen einfach gestört werden kann!?”
~ She is weak! That bitch you hold in your arms tried to kill me! Shoot me! My wounds will weaken me constantly, while she simply cannot be bothered with walking!?

“Verlassen Sie, bevor Sie Ihrem Freund folgen.”
~ Leave, before you follow your friend.

[Heidi]

His hand was like a claw again. He tore Adelheid out of the man's grasp, throwing her onto the floor as if she were a doll. The girl's mind whirled; Strumfelder was alive, and furious could not accurately describe the emotion in his eyes and face. Soundless, eyes and mouth wide with shock, she watched as the Nazi threw aside his cane, dragging the soldier who had carried her out to a balcony.

"H-Herr Unterärtzlichführer..." began the other soldier, but he stopped as he saw what happened next. The blood draining from the soldier's skin, his eyes widened as the soldier's comrade fell to his doom, but he did not move from where he stood. However, the soldier flinched as a loud, metallic crash split the air, he and Adelheid knowing why that noise had been made. Both also were intimidated by the cold look now in Strumfelder's eyes as he re-entered the room. It took all of the child's will not to move as Strumfelder pulled the blanket off of her; if she looked fearful, then Strumfelder might do something to further scare her. He had tried to do something like that the last time.

"Verlassen Sie, bevor Sie Ihrem Freund folgen," the doctor seemed to growl, tossing Adelheid's blanket toward the soldier. The soldier nodded vigourously, snapping some sort of strange motion before leaving as fast as he could. His former charge's eyes followed the soldier, watching as the man scooted into the elevator, the doors closing behind him. The elevator rattled loudly as it went down, sounding almost like Adelheid's heart as she turned her head toward Doctor Strumfelder.

She was silent for many moments, still somewhat unable to come to terms with the fact that he was alive. The girl would not lie if she said she was terrified; Strumfelder was a vengeful man. When he had carved up her journal - an act that would forever remain in her mind, emotionally-affecting or not - she had seen the dark joy in his eyes. Pain was what Strumfelder lived to cause, and here she was at his feet. He could shoot her, or torture her, or do something else that was terrible.

At that moment, Adelheid really wanted her Rhys-angel to be there.

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Finally, the other soldier left with his tail between his legs, an idiot to have ever picked a friend such as the one now with a broken spine. Strumfelder relaxed slightly pleased he had inflicted yet another mortal wound upon a lesser man. How dare that man challenge him, but at least Strumfelder had had the last laugh. Vengeance always improved Strumfelder’s mood.

Now, this boomerang of a girl was left in front of him, the girl that always kept bouncing back and returning, no matter what Strumfelder did to her. He should really through her out of a window, watch her scream to her painful death. Maybe he could through her into a river, with cement shoes such as his friends did. She would die a terrible and slow death, but alas, Strumfelder could not witness it. What about an aquarium? A nice bullet wound in the leg, and then tossed to the piranhas as their feast. That would be a nice piece of entertainment. But for now, Strumfelder needed to continue milking this girl for her information, his information so as she was his property.

He looked down at the girl, who was staring up at him with her large eyes, which seemed to penetrate into them. Remaining silent, he leant down and picked up his dark walking cane, before inspecting it. With the suddenness of a lashing snake, he brought the end around in a sweep with his right hand, smacking the girl across the top of the head with it, breaking her stare. Content, Strumfelder brought it back down, and walked away, towards the penthouse door. “Kommt.” he order sharply, as if speaking to a dog rather than a human child. This child didn’t even deserve the description of human.

As he stepped in, he removed his cap and hung it upon a coat stand, before he removed his trench coat and also preceded to hand that up. He straightened his eye patch slightly and breathed out, admiring the furnishings of his living room. It was painted cream, with oak panelling from the floor to mid way up the wall. Over the marble mantle piece hung a portrait of the Führer, with small pictures and photos of the Strumfelder family fanning out from either side. All the furniture was either leather or oak, and five larges doors lead away to a kitchen, bathroom, an office area, a bedroom, and a small wardrobe which Strumfelder used as storage area as well. “Sitzt,” he gave another order, and pointed to a small wooden stool which stood close to the fire.

Strumfelder now moved over to small table, where a case of cigarettes lay, next to a silver plate, inscribed with runes, and with a swastika at its centre. Along it lay for lines of crisp white powder. Strumfelder reached into a pocket on his tunic and removed his wallet, and then took at a RM50 note. Carefully he rolled it into a tube in his gloved hands, before placing it into his nostril. Finally, he reached down, and inhaled an entire line, letting the magic of the mixture have its effect on his head. He turned to the girl and smiled.

[Heidi]

She gave a muffled yelp as the Doctor's cane came down. Slowly, a hand reached up to rub the now-sore top of her head, just as Doctor Strumfelder barked the order to come. For a moment, Adelheid just sat there in a daze, watching the man's retreating form; however, she tried to rise when she realized he'd probably come back and hit her again. Following, though, would spare her from being struck a second time.

It was difficult to try and walk. The hallway seemed to be impossibly long, and Adelheid stumbled and staggered down it, out of breath within minutes. Her legs hurt, malnutrition and lack of walking having weakened them considerably. It also didn't help that her shot leg wasn't healed yet - putting too much pressure on that leg's foot caused the limb to burn. She was several feet behind Doctor Strumfelder when he reached the door to what seemed to be his room, huffing and puffing and slightly dizzy.

"Sitzt," the Nazi ordered, pointing towards something nearby. Adelheid weakly nodded, but the moment she glanced to where Strumfelder had pointed, her jaw dropped. The place simply shimmered in the sunlight, a golden glow reflecting off anything of oak wood, anything leather polished beyond belief. Nearby, an unlit fireplace shone brightly, flawlessly sculpted out of some kind of smooth stone. The delicate, spiderweb patterns of brown, black and white against a pale grey went well with the black and brown picture frames, all dwarfed by the giant portrait that hung over the fireplace. It was of a regal-looking man, with a tiny moustache and in some sort of uniform, brown hair on his head and a red armband across one arm. That armband held a swastika - it was obvious he was a Nazi. Perhaps he was Doctor Strumfelder's father or other ancestor?

A loud snuffing sound brought Adelheid back to reality. Doctor Strumfelder was bent over, hands in front of his face and sniffing something. Before he could turn around, his young captive had headed toward the stool, sitting on it before he noticed she was still standing. However, Adelheid accidentally sat too close to the edge of the seat, and ended up falling onto the floor, the stool going out from beneath her. She landed with a small, "Eep!" and blinked rapidly, taken by surprise by her mistake. Her head swiftly turned toward Doctor Strumfelder, bringing forth a sudden head rush; he was finished with what he was doing. Tardily, Adelheid blinked away the rush as best as she could, then reset the stool and sat upon it.

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Couldn’t the girl sit upon a stool, or was she simply slow? Probably slow, to have ever crossed Strumfelder’s path. Stupid brat. Strumfelder carefully unrolled the banknote and placed it down, smiling again and relaxing. It may be expensive, but the powder helped him in a way nothing else could, and it relieved the pain he felt inside himself. It was such a lovely feeling, and he had to restrain himself from snorting the next line of carefully laid out mixture. This was truly the gold of South America.

But now onto the girl. there she sat, trying to look innocent and weak when she had actually shot a man, and attempted to kill him. She deserved a borstal; that is what any other child of her level of disobedience would have to suffer. Aghhh, he had a job to focus on, and letting his mind wander off onto his hatred of this girl was not going to get it done. He sighed slightly, then advanced on the girl, grabbing the back of her clothing. He dragged her towards the wardrobe door and opened it, before pushing her inside. He flicked a light switch and dim orange light flooded the room. It was about three metres by four, and along one wall boxes were stacked, mostly containing old photographs of Strumfelder before that unfortunate day. Coats hung from another, some of Cloris’s fur hung from a rung. There was also a line of boots, and a small hunting shotgun lay propped in the corner. Strumfelder kept the ammunition under his bed.

On the floor lay a small and tired mattress, with a pillow and a thick but dusty blanket over the top. Two large cardboard boxes lay next to it. “Dieses ist, wo Sie schlafen und leben. In einem Kasten sind Ihre neue Kleidung, eine Uhr und etwas badenmaterialien. Im anderen sind einige Bücher, ein neues Journal, eine Zeichnungsauflage und ein alter Kunstfall, die meiner späten Mutter gehörten.” He wondered now why he had been so generous to this brat, but he needed to keep her stimulated if he was going to get the best from her. “Diese sind die Richtlinien. Sie bleiben in ihren allen Zeiten und bilden keine Geräusche. Mahlzeiten sind bei neun, einem und sechs, und Ihnen werden die Wahrscheinlichkeit gegeben, nach Frühstück und Abendessen zu baden. Am Wochenende können Sie das Penthaus, aber für no more als eine Stunde verlassen, und Sie müssen mir erklären, wohin Sie gehen und wann Sie zurück sind. Wenn Sie mehr als sind, 10 Minuten spät habe ich jede Polizeibeamten in Berlin, das nach Ihnen sucht. Ich schlage Sie fünfmal, jedes Mal wenn Sie mich stören.”

With that, Strumfelder turned and left the room, closing the door behind him, and then locking it tight. As an added security measure, he slotted a heavy bolt across the bottom of the door. He moved over to his leather arm chair and lowered himself down, and relaxing slightly.

Translations
“Dieses ist, wo Sie schlafen und leben. In einem Kasten sind Ihre neue Kleidung, eine Uhr und etwas badenmaterialien. Im anderen sind einige Bücher, ein neues Journal, eine Zeichnungsauflage und ein alter Kunstfall, die meiner späten Mutter gehörten.”
~ This is where you shall sleep and live. In one box are your new clothes, a watch, and some bathing materials. In the other are some books, a new journal, a drawing pad and an old art case which belonged to my late mother.

“Diese sind die Richtlinien. Sie bleiben in ihren allen Zeiten und bilden keine Geräusche. Mahlzeiten sind bei neun, einem und sechs, und Ihnen werden die Wahrscheinlichkeit gegeben, nach Frühstück und Abendessen zu baden. Am Wochenende können Sie das Penthaus, aber für no more als eine Stunde verlassen, und Sie müssen mir erklären, wohin Sie gehen und wann Sie zurück sind. Wenn Sie mehr als sind, 10 Minuten spät habe ich jede Polizeibeamten in Berlin, das nach Ihnen sucht. Ich schlage Sie fünfmal, jedes Mal wenn Sie mich stören.”
~ These are the rules. You shall stay in here all times and make no noise. Meals are at nine, one, and six, and you will be given the chance to bathe after breakfast and dinner. At the weekend you may leave the penthouse, but for no more than an hour, and you must tell me where you are going and when you will be back. If you are more than ten minutes late I will have every police officer in Berlin searching for you. I will beat you five times each time you annoy me.

[Heidi]

OOC - Just for clarification, if something in italics doesn't have quotes around it or a speech tag indicating speech, then it's a thought. I use italics in translated speech to show it's different than English, hence the possible confusion.

Translations (in order of writing):

...Yes...Doctor Strumfelder.

...Maybe...changing clothes will help...?


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Adelheid shrank back as Doctor Strumfelder approached her, a glazed look in his eye. He looked...unwell...after sniffing whatever he had sniffed. She flinched away from his hand as it came forth, and gave a little, "Glahk!" as she was grabbed by the scruff of her gown. As if she were a naughty dog, she was yanked off the stool and dragged across the floor, completely soundless all the time. The child didn't want to give Doctor Strumfelder a reason to hit her.

The doctor came to stand in front of a lavish-looking wardrobe. He swiftly opened the thing's doors, his movements quick and like finger snaps - sudden and with force. Adelheid got a glimpse of the wardrobe's inside, and for a fraction of a second, she thought he was going to pull out a coat. The doctor, however, had other plans; he caught Adelheid off guard by throwing her into the wardrobe. "Oomph!" went Adelheid as she landed inside, her forehead smacking off the floor a couple of times.

She lifted her head from the floor, blinking a couple of times. Even with the shadows of the coats, Adelheid could see the mattress and blanket in the back of the wardrobe. Her head turned, and she was to ask if this was her room; a couple of seconds later, though, Doctor Strumfelder confirmed her suspicions. Trying to seem competent, she nodded instead, and the doctor changed subjects.

"Diese sind die Richtlinien," began Doctor Strumfelder. "Sie bleiben in ihren allen Zeiten und bilden keine Geräusche. Mahlzeiten sind bei neun, einem und sechs, und Ihnen werden die Wahrscheinlichkeit gegeben, nach Frühstück und Abendessen zu baden. Am Wochenende können Sie das Penthaus, aber für no more als eine Stunde verlassen, und Sie müssen mir erklären, wohin Sie gehen und wann Sie zurück sind. Wenn Sie mehr als sind, 10 Minuten spät habe ich jede Polizeibeamten in Berlin, das nach Ihnen sucht. Ich schlage Sie fünfmal, jedes Mal wenn Sie mich stören."

"...Ja...Doktor Strumfelder," said Adelheid quietly, beginning to get into a sitting position. The doctor immediately closed the door to the wardrobe, and there was the sound of something locking and sliding shut outside. Adelheid waited for the man's footsteps to become fainter, and then, she scrambled over to her new bed as fast as she could. Grabbing the dusty blanket, coughing a couple of times from the dust, she pulled it over her and tightly to her body. The pillow was snatched next, and Adelheid buried her face into it, as if she was smothering herself.

Then, she hyperventilated for two minutes - she hated being stuck in a space so stuffy and tiny. It only served to remind her of the cell she had come from. Muffled screaming came next, which lasted about four minutes, and Adelheid buried her face farther into the pillow so that Doctor Strumfelder couldn't hear her. He would probably smack her with his cane if he saw her first reaction to her new living space.

When all the screaming, all the pent-up frustration and fear was finally vented, Adelheid pulled away from her pillow, gasped for a few seconds for air, and pulled the blanket off of her. Sitting still and quiet for a few moments - just to collect herself so she wouldn't start screaming without the pillow - Adelheid sighed, then rubbed her itchy eyes. There was too much dust in that wardrobe, and the whole place made her feel dirty.

...Vielleicht...das Umkleiden wird helfen...?

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Post

CP:
Addie: 9CP

Strumfelder: 8CP


~Dan