Die Jagd

Danni

Emerging out of dark water.

My limbs felt weighed down with cement, eyelids anchored by invisible pebbles. My head pounded, my heartbeat slamming dully inside my skull. When I tried to move my arms, I found them bound together.

That fact shocked my system. I sat up with a gasp, struggling against the binds that were rough against my skin. My eyes adjusted to the darkness around me and my nose took in the stench of wet wood and mold. My own ragged breathing echoed mutely around me, absorbed by dampness.

Where the fuck was I?

My brain tried to wrap around what was happening, what had happened. From the fog, it began to form back into logical thoughts, despite the throbbing pain at the base of my skull. That throbbing pain brought my previous conscious moments back in crisp fashion.

Carol had got up, claiming to not be feeling well. Then, she completely face-planted onto the floor. I got up to help, but suddenly felt dizzy myself. I had turned back to our host, who was looming over the table now. I remembered that look…A hallow, deadly expression lined his eyes and he was staring right into my soul with those eyes.

He said something, muffled, but it was a call. Another man, much smaller and leaner, even shorter than me. He grabbed Carol by her ankles and pulled her into the hallway he’d just emerged from. I stepped forward to stop him, trying to say something. But my knees suddenly gotten shaky. I turned back to Till and was met nearly with his barrel chest. He grabbed me by the back of the neck…

And that was all I remember.

I came back to my present situation and began to feel around for what exact predicament I was in. My wrists were tied, but surprisingly my ankles weren’t. Despite that, the darkness and the close proximately of the walls began to make my mind kick into overdrive and before I knew it, I was beginning to suffer a mild anxiety attack. I got to my feet unsteadily, my head still pounding, and braced myself against one of the walls. It was slimy and cold. I felt the moisture seep through my jacket.

The room wasn’t all that large. A few strides and I was to the other end. It was maybe eight feet by five. And it felt like it was closing in more and more. I tried the door down at the opposing end of the small room. It was wooden, but thick. I could tell by the lack of sound it made when I slammed my fists against it.

That left me with few choices.

“Help!” My voice cracked on the first word. I cleared by throat and tried again. “Help! Help me!”

I traveled to every corner to see where my voice traveled the most. And then I heard it, the creaking overhead. I stopped and listened, afraid to say anymore because of the unknown. The creaking traveled across the ceiling, light footsteps on a wood floor. The silence returned and I swallowed my parched throat. A clicking sounded from the side of the room with the door, startling me. I quickly tried to curb my growing anxiety when I realized it was the lock being undone.

When the door creaked open, I was met with a thin silhouette against a grey backdrop. Lightbulbs above my head flashed on and I squinted, even though their light was far from anything luminescent. Staring me down was the smaller man from Till’s house. In reality, I wanted to cry. Despite the trembling in my legs, I faced him square on, taking on a classic rugby stance with my legs shoulder length apart, steadying myself for a hit.

The man reached into his jacket and presented me with a fair warning – a gun.

I took a shaky breath. “W-what do you want?”

The man stepped towards me, gesturing with his free hand for me to return the favor. I shuffled forward. When I was within reach, he grabbed me and pressed the gun to my back.

“Los geht's,” he hissed into my ear and jerked me forward. I felt my whole skeleton jolt. He pushed up the stairs and out the door, into the cold night. I stumbled down the remaining stairs, hoping my drunken clumsiness would distract him enough to loosen his iron grip on me.

I wasn’t that lucky.

For being shorter than I by an inch or two and probably ten pounds lighter, he was strong. And determined. His jaw was set, beady eyes alight with some unknown passion to do me harm. We walked to what looked like the edge of a corn maze and came to a halt. The man holstered his gun, only to unsheathe a knife from his belt and cut me loose. His hand slammed into the center of my shoulder blades and I tripped forward, my feet working against me to stay upright. Everything felt like it was rocking like a ship on angry tides.

I turned back on my captor and saw other movement in the corner of my eye. A similar scene to what just happened to me played out a couple yards away. The moon was full and as the pair came towards us, my frenzied brain still managed to identify the overzealous waltz and the most pointed nose I’d ever seen a man possess.

Flake.

Flake was leading another prisoner towards us and as I watched, he cut the man loose and shoved him towards me.

My brain was being stretched a million different ways. Confusion, terror, and betrayal. What should I have expected of a man who so clearly hated me? Definitely not this.

Fucking Nazi.

I turned back to my captor and tried to stutter out some sort of question or curse. Nothing came. The world still rocked, even more now. The man was staring at me, eyes glazed over with what I could only assume was some sort of manic sadism.

“Du solltest rennen,” he said. He put his fingers to his lips. A loud whistle pierced the air and before I could move, the howling of dogs filled the still night. The snarling sent every hair on my body upright.

I turned and suddenly developed the skill to use my feet again. Quickly.

I ran into the field, heard the panicked footsteps near mine. The other prisoner, a man in his thirties. I could see the whites of his eyes in the moonlight. He felt the cold, unabashed terror too. We were going to be ripped to shreds by dogs and no one would find us. We would rot out here in this field and become just another statistic.

I’d just be another exchange student who must have made some dumb decision to make herself disappear forever. I was too scared to cry, even though all those thoughts dogged me down with dread.

I was so wrapped up in my own running and thoughts of an inescapable end, I didn’t realize the man was yelling at me in German. My brain had lost its translational skills. I tried to ignore his shouting. I was on my own. His shouting would bring our death on us faster. I wanted him to shut up and just run another way!

He suddenly picked up speed, running past me. I’d been ducking and diving corners, but he had a different plan, then. Run through the wall of grass or corn or whatever the fuck sort of plant looming over us. As his body hit the wall of greenery, a snapping sounded and sparks of light cascaded around him. He screamed and jolted. Stuck against what could only be hidden conductors of electricity.

The smell of burning flesh filled the air. The man didn’t scream for very much longer, before his body went slack and he hung against the camouflaged fence, melted into the metal surface.

I didn’t realize I’d stop to witness the gruesomeness until the baying of hounds grew closer and closer, almost upon me again.

Somehow, I willed my body to move again and I was running through the maze – careful to avoid the walls and their traps beneath.