Unverdient Folter - 1 x 1

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    • Germany 22:36 - 18th September, 1940.


      Being the last man to leave the office, Hans closed it up. he turned the lights off, locked up the doors and made his way out. His long, black coat floated in the wind as he carried a briefcase with gloved hands. He kept his Officer's hat on, hiding his face as he walked down the cold street. He looked across, under the street lamp to see an unfamiliar figure. Hans stared with a dark gaze, trying to figure out who could possibly be lurking around the Offices at this time. Not many people stayed on the policed streets. Hans could hear the sirens of the cars, the secret police taking down the remaining rebels of the Nazi world.

      Deciding to investigate, Hans carefully stepped towards the man. He could tell the male was tall, toned male, with dark hair. He looked like he could be a loyal soldier, or a trouble maker. Hans hoped for the former.

      "Hello? I do believe many people's curfew is up." Hans asked, squinting at the man. His voice was a soft, friendly tone, making his intimidating appearance feel less intimidating. The man held his briefcase in front of him, his dark eyes scanning the male for potential threat.


    #1 King, Aug 4, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Apr 24, 2016
    • Love Love x 1
  1. Charles wandered about the dimly lot streets, few lamps were could hold a steady light like the one he was near. He ran his bony hand through the dark hair that was only shaved a month ago. The night air sent shivers down his spine despite the fact he was wearing a long coat over his uniform. Despite spending over a year in Germany as a spy for America, he still hasn't got used to the weather. The chilled air showcased each breath he made.

    The night was a perfect time to do business that the Nazi party would gladly kill him for. Gathering information and basic layouts of the buildings and the government controlled ones too. Charles didn't notice the looming figure that creeped behind him till he heard the man's words pierce the still air. He jumped and turned around, only to have to look up at the figure. Shit, he thought, I didn't even heard the damn Nazi. At least he was somewhat good at coming up with excuses on the fly.

    "S-Sorry Sir. I was just heading home now. I know I'm not meant to be out so late, time wasn't on my side today, Sir." he said. Not even giving time for Hans to reply, he rushed off into the remainder of the night. The encounter frightened Charles, he wasn't expecting to see someone else on that stretch of road - especially late at night. He simply headed to house which wasn't far away, leaving Hans alone under the street light.
  2. [​IMG]

    The man gave Hans a shock, he didn't even get to say another word when the man waltzed away. Hans narrowed his eyes at the dark space where the boy had run off to, suspicious. Hans didn't like suspicious. But, he let it pass him by, Hans wanted to get back home to his empty house and get a goods night sleep before another day at work.


    The next morning was busy. Busier than Hans expected. He had gotten into the office, earlier than he usually would. But when he got there, the offices were being blitzed, "Officer Schmitt, we have an American Spy on our hands." Hans immediately sighed, not this. He was expecting this sooner or later, but not at his office. "Description?" He asked bluntly, placing his briefcase on the table and unbuttoning his long coat. "Well, a male has been snooping around the HQ for a while, tall, black hair-" Hans stopped the man, putting his finger on his mouth to shush him. The image of the man who rushed off so quickly came into his head. Well, it might of not been much to go on, but the Gestapo never did need any in the first place.

    "I've got this." Hans huffed, "Just, lay low and if you see him again, inform me." Hans said.

    The day went through without any action, Hans did paperwork for the most part. It wasn't until the evening dawned on them again, and the office cleared out. Hans stood up and began turning off the lights. Except this time, he waited in his office in the dim light until he saw the similar shadow from the night before.​
  3. As darkness fell onto the city, Charles when straight to work. The air was still as the spy waded through the streets to the offices of the Nazi Party. He sneaked into the office through unlocked window through one of the secretary's office. It was easy and left little to no trace he was ever there, which is probably why he hadn't be caught - yet.

    Charles wandered around the dark office, trying to find where he left off from a few days ago. He never questioned why the American Government would need such simplistic documents and evidence, even though it seemed strange to want. Rummaging through file cabinets and desks, he got a hold of files of paperwork and new reports. Holding onto them as if for dear life, he headed towards one of the officer's office and swung the door open wondering what he might stumble upon this time. Biggest mistake of his life.

    There stood the man he met in under the streetlight, it was then he realized was happening, that they knew he was a spy. Eyes wide with surprise and fear, he mouthed shit before dropping the files onto the tiled floor. Charles wasn't stupid to go against someone who seemed capable of literally ripping him a new one, no, he was going to do seemed like the best option, run.

    Turning on his heel he rushed through the crowded room, hoping not to get caught by the officer. Yet fate seemed to have other options; the spy ran himself straight into a dead end at the back of the office, leaving him a trapped animal in the clutches of a hungry predator. ​
  4. [​IMG]

    Hans could hear somebody rustling about in the main office, this must of been his guy. He waited quietly until the sound got closer, just so he could jump at the right time. He heard it coming closer, so Hans stood up slowly. Before he could get to the door, it opened. And as he expected, the man from the night before. Hans smirked at his own correctness, as cocky as he could get it.

    Before he could run, the other man did so. Hans burst into action, jogging to catch up with the man. But he was quick, Hans had to plow through the Offices to get to him. It was lucky he knew his way around and the spy didn't, he saw him at the back of the office, with no where to go.

    Another triumphant smile came to Hans as he loomed over the male, his forearm hitting his throat, pushing him back, "Curfews up." Hans hissed as he grabbed the wrist of the man, attaching handcuffs to him. With struggle, Hans dragged the man through the offices until they got to the interrogation room. He opened the door and threw the man into the room, quickly shutting the door before he could run at him.

    With a sigh, Hans walked over to the one sided mirror, watching the man. He didn't really care if this was the spy or not, at least he had somebody to blame.​
  5. Charles struggles the whole way, making things that much more difficult for the officer. He knew what he was going into wasn't going to be pleasant, the least he could do was make worse than it could be for Hans.

    In the interrogation room, he felt like a trapped animal and even though he couldn't see Hans, he could feel his predator gaze set on him. Fear began to set in, he wanted out. His blue eyes darted in his skull, attempting to find what any clue that might lead to him guess what might happen next yet there were none. He was shaking and scared, that much was clear as Hans watched on.

    Stories of what happened to spies was something he commonly heard passed around fellow friends who served alongside him. Memories of what they said filled his mind: Did you hear? They found Jacob Wright, dead and missin' his fingers and burned all over. Cruel. Saw what they did to poor Hunter, cut all over and then drowned the fellow. Sickening. I don't think I a single one who was caught and made it out alive. Fuck. He realized he was next to join in the revolting stories that were tossed around like a campfire tale. All thanks to the officer who now craved to kill.​
  6. [​IMG]

    The man looked terrified, his eyes darted about as his body visibly shook. Hans watched silently as he slid on his leather gloves. He prepared the paperwork to fill in, to make a record of the American Spy. They had run ins with a couple of these men, but not around HQ. Hans considered waiting until the morning to get some information, but why wait when he could make it quicker for the others tomorrow?

    Smoothly, Hans collected the paperwork and a pen before hiding a switch-blade in his pocket. His boots echoed against the tiles, breaking the silence. He opened the door and looked directly at the man. The room was almost empty; white walls, with only one mirror. The lightbulb hung by a wire over a metal table and two chairs. Hans closed the door behind him and briefly looked at the table, "Please, take a seat." He said, his voice ambiguously calm and almost friendly.

    Hans did the same, making sure he didn't take his eyes off the male, for all he knew, this was a trained assassin who could jump across and break his neck. But he highly doubted it. He took the chair, sitting further away from the table as he crossed his leg over the other, "Let's get started, shall we?" ​
  7. His heart seemed to stop as he heard the echoing steps of the officer, he was hoping the man's entrance wouldn't come so soon. The spy pushed himself against the wall trying to get as far away as he possibly could, fearful of Hans. When the officer beckoned him to come over, Charles stared at him. The situation reminded him of a childhood tale - the scorpion and the frog. Where he was the frog who believed the scorpion, despite it's nature would act in good faith for the frog but given the chance would strike and kill.

    He stood there, not moving a muscle for what seemed like forever as he weighed the options in his head. After a minute it seemed like the best option was to do as he said. Letting out a pained sigh, Charles headed over to the chair and took a seat. He eyed the officer, noticing the addition of the gloves to his wardrobe. At least it seemed fitting to Hans.

    Slowly, he nodded his head. In reality, he never wanted this to start yet. It mean questions which he wasn't willing to give up. Charles couldn't win a fight, hell, he couldn't even run away from danger but he knew that there was thing he was good at and that was shutting his mouth. The number one reason why he landed his job as a spy was because he could stay quiet.

    The night was going to be a long one for the two of them.

  8. [​IMG]

    As he waited, Hans watched the tall male with watchful eyes, waiting for him to sit in his seat. He sighed as rubbed his forehead just as he sat down. Hans straightened up and fixed his hat again. "Good." He said calmly as he opened up the papers, licking the tip of his pen before writing the date at the top of the page.

    "Okay, so we'll start with an easy question shall we?" Hans asked, as he circled the 'male' section of gender before putting his pen down at the 'name' section, "Whats your name?" He asked, looking at the man. Well, he didn't expect this to be easy. The man probably wouldn't even give up small details like that. That's what spies did.

    Hans sighed and licked his lips, "I'll show you how it's done..." He sighed, "My name is Officer Hans Schmitt." He said condescendingly, a smirk on his face as he looked down to his paper. The light in the room gave him an ominous shadowing, the entire room looked sinister. Hans didn't want to begin the torture. But he knew full well that as soon as he begun, he'd find it hard to stop. But, if he didn't start talking soon, Hans would quickly loose patience. ​

  9. The man let out a sigh, knowing there was no way to get around the question. "My name is Peter Bamm," he lied. "I am a solider who recently transferred here." Lying seemed to be the best way to either save his skin or at least buy him time to think of something better. It wasn't going to be easy to make him spill the truth considering he already started off with false identity.

    Paper work was being filed on him, that was to be expected. Charles wondered what Hans would write down but he didn't try to let his mind wander with that thought. He needed to think of way to get out of this mess. Glancing past the officer, he spied the only door in the room. He was pretty sure it wasn't locked but getting to it was out of the question. Before him was an officer who probably would kill him on the spot, not to mention he was cuffed.

    "Will this be much longer?" He leaned backed, trying to distance himself more even if it was by a few inches. It was strange to be in this situation, he hoped for a release, that is if Hans believed he wasn't a spy, or a quick death if not. The man just wanted out. ​
  10. [​IMG]

    "Hm." Hans wrote down the name, even though he had a strong feeling that was a lie. Why would a soldier be snooping around the office, with the same face as the spy... Of course, it was a lie. But, Hans decided it might be easier to go with it, just to see if it was easier to break him.

    "Okay, Peter." He said calmly, watching the eyes darting to the door and back, "It will be as long as it takes... Do you want to tell me what you were doing in this office? Do you understand the crime you have committed?" He asked. Regardless if this was a spy or not, he broke and entered a top secret gestapo office, and collected private info. A crime indeed. So Hans wouldn't make quick work of getting rid.

    But what he really wanted, was the info on the Americans. Hans put the pen into his pocket, and the papers on the desk before he stood up, his hand touching the pocket knife he had hidden. He stood up before turning away from 'Peter', to the mirror behind himself. Hans watched his reflection, then turned to Peters, "Do you know what the punishment is for them?"​
  11. Their eyes met for a brief moment, Charles turned away only to look at the white walls. He wasn't fond of the officer looking at him, it felt as if he was being analyzed and he probably was considering the situation he brought himself into. "I'm assume imprisonment at the minimum and death at the maximum. Is that correct Officer?"

    He strayed away from his first question. At least the spy was able to get away with some information before he was caught tonight. Charles was actually surprised it took them so long to get him. How many files did his pass to his superiors, how many slipped out of the Nazi's hands and into the Americans just from him alone? Building layouts, personal reports, even the paperwork of who transferred and where. He wondered if Hans knew what was missing.

    The room drew silent as he readjusted in the chair. The cuffs were digging into his skin and desperately wished they weren't there but that was the least of his concerns. He had to deal with the issue of him being interrogated by a Gestapo officer first. ​
  12. [​IMG]

    When he heard the chair squeak against the floor, Hans looked up and glared at the man through the reflection, "No. Death would be your minimum..." He said lowly before walking over to the door. Hans couldn't wait. If he wanted proper info, he'd have to force it out.

    The door locked with a click before Hans slipped keys back into his pocket. He turned around and sighed, "The maximum... Well, I don't think I have to spell it out for a smart kid like you." Hans slowly walked over, his boots echoing over the concrete floor. He sat on the desk in front of the spy, "I'll ask you one more time-" Hans took out the blade, switching out the knife.

    "Who are you?"​

  13. His face went at the sight of the knife, seeing a distorted image of himself reflected back on the metal. It was going to be hard to deal with what was going to come next. Pain, lies, blood; all on repeat.

    "I already told you." Licking his chapped lips, he glared at the officer. Never would Charles have thought he'd have this much disdain for a single living human yet here was Hans. "But since you didn't listen the first time, I'll tell you again. I'm Peter Bamm and I recently transferred here. Did you hear that? Or do I have to repeat myself?"

    He knew what was coming next and he wanted to run from it. At least he could struggle since he wasn't tied to the chair, make life all the harder fot officer every chance he'd get.

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