Hooded Figure

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Short story might get turned into a prologue for a novel. Enjoy.

Submitted: April 16, 2013

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Submitted: April 16, 2013



All was quiet.

Darkness lingered on the front of a concentration camp in Lichtenberg. Fog rolled in, causing the Nazis to shiver. Far off, the hooves of three horses could be heard falling onto the rough terrain. Their masters rode on their backs, their faces hidden behind black hoods. Their eyes, if they had any, would show determination as they rode towards the entrance of the camp.

Upon hearing the hooves, the Nazis stood up.

The horses slowed and the first rider looked down onto one of the Nazis. The soldier stammered back, nearly tripping on one of his comrade’s feet. His comrade walked forward, straightening his back in order to show who was in command. He too fell back, but this time was screaming in agony as his face burned with an unknown acid.

Boils formed and the ground underneath the soldier’s feet shook. Fire circled around the disbelieving soldiers. It lapped at their bodies hungry for fresh flesh. As soon as it started the chaos slowed, but still the fire held the soldiers bound to their heated prison.

The hooded figures in front of them raised one hand high in the air and the gates to the concentration camp melted. They storm through the gate and started to search. Ear splitting screams coming from their hidden mouths as they tore down the buildings and flung prisoners and soldiers about.

Dissatisfied, one of them took a soldier and started to choke him. The hooded figure’s voice formed strange words which morphed into a series of more ear splitting screams. The soldier’s neck, where the figure grabbed him started to burn when he tried to beg for mercy. “You beg for mercy but you don’t give it,” the figure scuffed “why should I be different for you?”

The figure squeezed tighter, until its prisoner collapsed. The figure approached another, asking where the object was and yet again that soldier was executed like the others, until one was brave enough to reply. “She took it with her, she stolen it.” The man replied, trying to gasp for air.

“Who is this she?” The figure asked, tightening his grasp.

“She knew you would be coming, she knew you would deceive her!” The man replied “You know who I speak of.” The figure dropped the man and ran off, followed by the others. Before the gate shut, the figure turned around and laughed cruelly “you should’ve kept a closer eye on her like we ordered! Now, you must pay the price.”

© Copyright 2018 Meggie Crow. All rights reserved.

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