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Not a Tourist Attraction

Short story By: PeaceLoveLingleton
Thrillers



a scary story i wrote for a challenge


Submitted:Feb 12, 2010    Reads: 76    Comments: 4    Likes: 3   


I squeeze my eyes shut with all of my power and try to block out my surroundings. This can't really be happening. I'm imagining things; nothing here is true. Maybe I'm going crazy. The shocking part of the ordeal is that I would much rather believe that I am crazy than believe that any of this could really happen. These "things" can't really be coming after me. What I did wasn't intentional.
Slowly, I open them just enough to see that the room around me is completely empty. I am not being fooled by this; however, I know that they are still there. I ease myself up from the place where I am crouched in the corner, and head towards the door. But, before I can reach it, I feel it happening again. Everything around me is changing. It is still the same time, but I am surrounded by people that aren't really there. I know they aren't. At least, I think they aren't.
These people could be described as ghosts, but then again, not as ghosts. I could tell that some were soldiers, and some were prisoners in this ancient camp I was so excited to visit. Auschwitz seemed interesting enough. I knew all of the horrible things that went down there, and I just wanted to see the size of it at the most. I had planned on meeting some of the people from the time, but this was not what I had in mind. I was hoping to talk to the survivors, not the ones who died here. But, alas, I am stuck in this situation and I must survive it.
I try to run away again, but this time something new happens. I feel something changing but see nothing around me different. When I looked down at myself, however, I see that I am dressed in the clothes of the Jews. Things aren't getting any better for me, it seems.
Trembling, I hear the soldiers calling for us to come out of the bunk room I am hid in. Looking around me, I see that I am no longer the only one here. The room is now filled with prisoners and they have faces that seem broken and fearsome. Not sure what to do, I follow them out and stand in a line in front of the room. Looking around me now, I see that the bunk room wasn't the only thing that changed. The whole camp had. I was now in Auschwitz as it was in its prime. There were hundreds of prisoners around the camp, each doing some sort of task, and following each one, was a gruesome soldier who seemed to have absolutely no interest in their fate.
The one who had called us out of the bunkers wasn't alone, however. There were two others there with him and the look in the eyes of the people around me told me that that wasn't a good sign. We were ordered to stand in a straight line, as if at attention. The guards walked in front and behind us, checking to see if we would be able to work, I suppose. Some the people down the line were pulled out. As the guards get closer to me, I feel myself trembling with fear.
This fear is only multiplied when I am pulled forward into the now growing line of people in front of me. Guards from all over the camp were pulling people out to join us. By the time they stopped adding people, we were being shuffled into a line and herded towards a large building at the other side of the camp. This building looks large and uncaring.
The inside of the building is much worse than the outside. We are pushed into a smaller room that somewhat resembles the locker rooms that I used to see at my high school. It even had shower heads overhead. But, by the time I realize what is happening, it is too late. The door behind us is shut tight and a hissing sound comes from above us. The next moment, a feeling unlike any other I have ever felt comes over me. I feel light headed and scared. People all around me are falling into the floor and not breathing. Soon, I am the only one still standing.
I am stuck in the small room for what seems like hours with the bodies all around me before someone opens the door. The soldier's face when he sees that I am still standing is a look so angry that I hope I never see anything like it again. I try to escape his grab, but I know it is no use. He grabs me and stands me up in front of him. I am scared to move so I just stand there while he brings his gun up and aims it directly at my head.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I try to tell myself that this isn't real but it is too dramatic for my mind to believe me. The next moment I hear a sound like a small explosion and everything goes black. I am sure I am dead, and I believe I am. But, I can still hear everything that is going on. The man is speaking in some other language that is not English. He feels my neck to find a pulse, but I have none. I really am dead. The next moment I feel myself being moved, along with the other bodies around me, by several men. We are moved to some other place, and until I feel the weight of others around me, I am unsure of what it is. A mass grave.
Apparently we are the last to go in it, because the next moment dirt is being poured over all of us. I feel the cold earth getting heavier and heavier as more and more is added. Soon, my entire body is covered and I don't what to do. I just lie here and wait. Wait for what? I am unsure, but I don't know of any other options.
◙◙◙◙◙
I am very excited. It seems that another tour of people has arrived to the camp. For the past few months, more and more people have been coming. Apparently they aren't getting the message that we don't want to be visited. I was once one of these people, but am now one of the ones keeping the place away from them. Each time we find one of the more curious ones and give them an adventure they are sure to never forget, since it's the last one they will ever have.
Maybe one day people will realize that they need to just leave us alone, then we will stop taking them one by one. Until that day, we will keep on having our fun.




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