Chapter 4
From ahead of us there were voices coming through the double doors. We were too far away to make them out clearly, so we crept closer. It was a man and a woman speaking in German, with some strange muffled whimpers barely noticeable behind their voices. Presumably the voices belonged to the Nazi officers we had seen before but what was with the strange whimpering? Sgt. Rowe’s brazenness in the face of extreme situations never failed to surprise me, because with no preamble he ran up to the double doors and began peeking through the crack. He waved us forward. I did my best to bounce on the soles of my feet and not make a noise as I approached. Neff was right behind me.
It was awkward, but I maneuvered my body next to the Sergeants and peeked through the crack with him. The right door was open a few inches so we could only see into the right side of the room. I could see the room was brightly lit and the red light source was coming from somewhere off to my left, somewhere I couldn’t see, but what I could see startled me. People in prisoner’s outfits, lots of them, all gagged and arranged in a tight row against the back wall, and tied down tightly to devices that looked like a mover’s dolly. Each one had straps that went over their legs and arms and then somewhere behind the dolly. They were all in some state of shock, squirming, and crying as they tried to escape their bonds, not being able to properly scream through their leather gags. Somewhere off to the left, outside of my view, the Nazi officer’s conversation carried on. Sgt. Rowe grabbed the shoulder of my uniform and yanked me back, and we walked back down the hall a bit. Neff took a quick peek through the crack and then followed us.
I couldn’t hold in my thoughts anymore, so I whispered to the Sargent “What the heck was going on in there? Were those prisoners? Were they Jews?”
“No, they looked like locals, Frenchies,” replied Sgt. Rowe. Neff stayed quiet.
“What the hell do they plan on doing to them?”
The sergeant's face contorted slightly at my casual use of the word hell before he replied “Not sure, but if I had to guess, that red light is involved. Let’s not wait and find out. The right side was clear, and it sounded like it was still just the two of them in there. I don’t like these two other passages here but they sound quiet. So when we go in, Neff, you close and bar the doors behind us so no one can surprise us from behind.”
“Yes Sargent,” Neff whispered tersely and quietly.
We didn’t wait any longer, I could tell Sgt. Rowe was in a hurry to help those people, I was too. We rushed the doors, all thoughts of stealth left my mind. The Sargent switched his weapon to a one-handed grip in his right hand and then used his left hand to crank open the left door. I was right behind him with my cheek welded to the stock of my M1 Garand and my eyes down the sights. I didn’t even focus on the Sargent’s position, I just trusted my feet and smoothly carried myself into the room walking sideways with my weapon trained on the origin point of the voices. I completely fell back on my training and muscle memory.
Sure enough the Nazi officers were there, and so... so much more. They were smiling, the suckers were actually smiling, and I realized why a second later. Behind them was a swirling and glowing, angry red mass of light made of some unknown substance. It was almost a perfect circle about eight feet tall and eight feet wide just floating in the air about six inches off of the floor. It quietly hummed at a frequency I had never heard before, and the border of it wobbled, tilted, and contracted at random. Staring into it hurt the fabric of my mind in ways I couldn’t explain.
The Nazi officers stood in front of it, calmly sipping on some kind of red wine from giant ornate goblets, they hadn’t budged and they looked as happy as a couple of pigs in mud despite standing in the bottom of some kind of demon church, standing in front of an unearthly swirling mass of red energy, and having three American soldiers point guns in their faces. The male officer looked even bigger now that I was up closer to him, and the female officer… well she looked great, for Nazi filth that is...
I heard a slam behind me then I saw Neff come into my peripheral vision with both of the MP40’s aimed at the Nazi’s and I relaxed a bit, he must have just sealed the doors behind us. The Nazi officers did have pistols at their belts but they made no move to go for them. Some of the Frenchies tied to the dollies started squealing more and more and rocking back and forth. One of them fell forward, his face crunching into the stone floor. I wanted to help him but was too afraid to take my weapon off of the enemy.
The male officer spoke up in heavily accented English “Welcome Americans, you are just in time for an amazing show.”
I couldn’t wait any longer, I was worried about the Frenchy who had fallen over “Sargent!” I shouted, Rowe looked over at me. “Permission to help the man who fell?”
“That’s fine, be quick about it.”
I rushed over to him and instead of lifting him up right away, I loosened his straps which I could now see were secured to the back of the dolly via some kind of hook and latch system. I quickly unhooked them, then helped the man to his feet. His face was a mask of blood where his head and nose had smacked the stone floor. I lifted his shirt a bit and pushed it at his nose “Hold it there,” I said.
“Merci monsieur.”
“Right, uh, stay here and don’t get in the way, and don’t leave either. This area is dangerous. Oh, wow, do you even speak English?” I asked. The man shook his hand in the air, tilting it left and right with his palm down, indicating kind of. Behind me Sgt. Rowe was yelling for the Nazis to keep their hands away from their weapons. I stood up and brought my M1 Garand back into a good firing position and pointed it right at the Nazi’s once more, and then got back in a good firing line with Neff and Sgt. Rowe so they could see me in position.
“Last chance to throw those weapons on the ground,” said Sgt. Rowe with a barely controlled boiling fury. “You look like the higher rank,” said Sgt. Rowe while pointing his weapon at the male officer “So let’s do this, in three seconds I’m going to shoot your girlfriend there in the knee cap if your weapons aren’t safely on the ground.”
I could tell from his tone that Sgt. Rowe meant it and I hoped the male Nazi officer took him seriously because I did not want to see what an exploded knee cap looked like.
“One!” counted Sgt. Rowe, the Nazi officer clinked his goblet against that of his female counterparts and they both just smiled. “TWO,” shouted Sgt. Rowe, while aiming his weapon right at the female’s kneecap.
Before Sgt. Rowe could say another word the male Nazi officer yelled “Drei!” which is German for three. He lifted his free hand that his goblet of wine wasn’t in and thrust it towards the ceiling. That’s when I felt my feet lift off of the floor. The next thing I knew I was rushing towards the stone ceiling, my feet sweeping upwards as I cartwheeled my arms to try and regain balance. I smacked into the slightly arched stone ceiling hard, face first. Up had somehow become down, gravity had turned against us.
I struggled to stand up, even though I realized I was now laying on the ceiling, but it felt like an elephant was sitting on my back. I couldn’t even turn my head to look around, as it was pinned to the ceiling along with all of my limbs, too heavy to move. My weapon was still in my hands but it was trapped between my body and the ceiling, my training had held and I had managed to hold onto it through our strange upward descent. It was like we were made of metal and the ceiling was some kind of super magnet.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Somewhere below us came the voice of the male Nazi, “You Americans are so rude, haven’t you ever heard of a proper introduction and manners? Allow me to introduce myself, I am Colonel Eichmann, and my beautiful associate here is Lieutenant Wagner. Now, we are expecting some very important company to arrive any second, and he doesn’t like disorder. So I am left with the question of what to do with you three. If you had been a bit more polite I may have offered you a job, but that is now off of the table you see. Hmm, I could crush you into the ceiling...”
We all felt even more pressure on our backs, like a giant machine was slowly pushing us upwards into the stone. The pain was starting to become unbearable and I felt something in my shoulders pop. Then it stopped abruptly and the Nazi began speaking again.
“But that would be quite messy. I’d like to present myself and my gifts here to my guest in a civilized setting. Having your.. remains strewn about just won’t do. Let me think, let me think… I could present you as part of the harvest with the rest of these poor fools, but my powers aren’t quite that refined just yet, and you might be able to fire those weapons of yours if I used anything less than lethal force on you.”
Somewhere below us a metallic sounding tang hit the floor.
“VAT VAS DAS!” The Nazi shouted, his accent coming through more so than usual.
“That noise was the pin on my grenade,” said Sgt Rowe who was also pinned to the ceiling. “You’re going to lower us to the floor slowly or I’m going drop this thing.”
“If you drop that grenade in an enclosed room like this, you will kill us all.”
“I’m ready to face my God, are you ready to face yours?”
Whatever power was being used to hold us to the ceiling slackened enough for me to take the first deep breath that I had taken in a while. After that, I was able to flop my head over and turn it a bit to peer down at the Nazis. The large male Nazi, Colonel Eichmann he had called himself, had one of his hands outstretched towards us with his palm facing upwards. His face was covered in sweat and his features were tight like he was straining. As I stared at his palm I swear I could see a slight red light emanating from it. The female officer next to him, I believe he had called her Lieutenant Wager, had her hand on the grip of the pistol in her belt, having already undone the leather retention flap that normally covered it. She looked very unsure.
I must have misjudged her though because in some kind of flashy move with a speed that she didn’t look capable of she had taken the pistol out of Colonel Eichmann’s belt, jumped behind him, placed his own pistol to his temple, and then aimed her personal pistol at us.
“Okay gentleman,” she said in a British accent that didn’t look right coming from someone who was wearing a Nazi uniform. “That will be enough of that. Colonel Eichmann if you could slowly lower these three to the floor without making any sudden movements that would be grand. Sgt. Rowe if you could refrain from releasing that grenade you would make me quite a happy little peach.”
“Lt. Wagner, VAT ARE YOU DOING!” shouts Eichmann.
“Well, actually my code name is Sparrow. Lt. Wagner is my cover,” she coyly replies.
“You are a spy?”
“Yes, and I think I have enough to report back now, and I would like to be in one piece to report back. So again, everyone move quite slowly and let's not play the who can survive a grenade to the face game.”
For a second no one moved and the woman named Sparrow who was apparently a spy pushed the barrel of her gun deeper into Eichmann’s temple.
“Let’s not try any fancy magic tricks on me now Colonel. I do believe I can pull the trigger on this faster than you can move me. Now get to lowering those gentlemen there.”
I felt myself slowly begin to sink back to the ground. It was a sickening feeling, and I had just enough time to think about how over my head I was in this situation. I was in some kind of evil church in a Mexican standoff with a Nazi wizard and a beautiful spy. My only allies were a crazy religious zealot and an imbecile with herculean strength… Or maybe I’m just a bit too pragmatic in stressful situations... I could trust these two, Rowe was a tried and true veteran and Neff would fight like a wild bear when pushed. Wizards and spies be damned, we are going to to do this!
The second my feet were back on the ground I raised my weapon back to my shoulder, I didn’t care what kind of fancy mojo this guy was slinging if he tried something again I was going to ventilate him. Even though this situation was way above my pay grade, my plan now was to take Colonel Eichmann and the damsel into custody, and turn them into command. Well, that was my plan until something heavy hit Sgt. Rowe right in the back of the head.
I heard Sgt. Rowe yelp and saw him fall forwards so I spun my weapon in his general direction. Behind him stood the Frenchmen I had helped up earlier, he was holding a candle base made of dark wood, the candle base had screaming faces etched into it. My eyes shifted to the Frenchman's face, something had changed. His eyes were glowing with an inner light, a red light, the same shade as the red glowing mass in the room… The Frenchman's face split into an insane smile, the corners of his mouth rising ever so slowly towards his ears. I watched in horror as the smile widened far past what should have been possible for a human. I felt my hands begin to shake, this was a whole new level of stress for me.
“Enough nonsense, Shoot him Private Osburn! Neff, Shoot Eichmann,” yelled Sgt. Rowe as he touched the back of his head and saw his hand come away bloody.
The Frenchman started advancing on me and he raised the wooden candle base high over his head as if to strike me down with it. I pointed my rifle right at his face, and hesitated. I couldn’t shoot a man I had just cared for. Next to me Neff yelled “I can’t get a clear shot Sargent, the dame is too close to him. I’ll Swiss cheese them both if I fire these things,” said Neff who was talking about the two German automatic weapons he was still carrying.
“Now wait a minute,” yelled the pretty lady who had said her code name was Sparrow.
The Frenchman swung on me and I jumped out of the way a second before impact. My leg shot out on instinct and I connected with his knee cap. I had been strength training for months and my kick had landed true. I felt the man’s knee crunch and shatter below my foot, but he didn’t go down. Instead an inhuman voice broiled out of his throat “Ouu, that tickled.”
Things were escalating too fast and everyone was distracted. That’s why we didn’t see Colonel Eichmann make a fist with his open hand and sharply pull his arm backwards. The move must have been connected to whatever arcane forces he was wielding because my feet were yanked out from under me and I was sliding across the floor, straight towards the giant glowing red mass. I saw Neff right next to me sliding along with me. I reached out trying to snag my free hand on furniture while simultaneously trying to plant my heels into one of the gaps between the stones lining the floor, nothing helped. Every attempt I made to slow my momentum only sped me up somehow. My only option became obvious, I had to stop the person causing this.
Colonel Eichmann was only about six feet ahead of me standing just in front of the red energy, we were all sliding towards him. He must have also caught the Sparrow lady in his magic as well because I saw her fall into the red mass and disappear, that would happen to me next if I didn't do something. It was hard with how much I was being tossed around but I oriented my rifle at Eichmann and started letting off shots, they missed him because I was having to shoot straight down from perspective since I was falling horizontally across the floor and having to avoid shooting my own feet, but it was enough to distract him for a second.
The magic cut off and I rolled to a stop right next to him. Neff was right next to me and Sgt. Rowe was still slowly rolling forward and losing momentum. Sgt. Rowe stopped inches before the red energy, I noticed he still had the primed grenade clenched in one of his hands. I tried to raise my rifle again, but Eichman came out of nowhere and stepped on the barrel before I could even lift it, pinning it to the floor. Neff must have tried something to help me because I saw Eichman wave his hand and then Neff was flying through the air, he collided with the red energy disc and disappeared.
“You bastard!” I shouted as I tried to lift my rifle. Eichman also casually waved at Sgt. Rowe and sent him flying into the red mass. Then I remembered the Nazi pistol I had taken earlier, the Luger. I took my right hand off of my rifle and sent it down towards the Luger and began to draw. Eichman noticed and made a quick hand gesture and I was sailing through the air as well directly at the red energy disc, destined to be swallowed up just like my friends had been. The sling on my rifle brought my primary weapon with me as I flew, I also had it decently gripped with my left hand but the sling was doing most of the word. With the Luger pistol in my right hand, the last thing I did before I hit the demonic red energy was fire off a shot at Eichman. As my back hit the red energy I began to burn or that is what it felt like, and I swear I saw Eichmann grab the side of his face and fall over. Good at least I was taking the bastard with me.