Their Story | Chapter One : Camp

'I'd always wanted to ride on a Russian style train. They say this has been in use ever since World War Two. I'm not sure if it's true or not - it's just what they say. There aren't really any indications that the statement is true. It's just what I hear. But the outside of the train has been redone multiple times for fixes, that I do know. I know it because this train is on a popular track in London. Newspapers tend to pick up when a popular train is currently out of order. Here I sit now, coming back from a trip to America. This train takes me back to my home - or at least close enough - and I can then take a taxi the rest of the way there. Or walk. I like to walk at night and ponder things. Night time has some sort of... surreal affect on a person that daytime seems to scare away. I'm not sure how to describe it except... mystifying.'

Thoughts like these filled the mind of Blanche West, traveler and detective. She'd just gotten back from handling a very tough case in America and was very tired. Her plan was to go home and sleep until the afternoon sometime, but, of course, these plans never went as she would have liked them too. She'd only been settled in her train car for a short while when the train hit a bump and something fell from the above cargo storage onto her head.

   "Ow! What the...?" Blanche looked to her right to find a strange pink diary, one that looked quite old.

She raised an eyebrow and picked it up; the lock was rusted, the edges of the pages were ripped or had noticeable water damage on them. The woman tried to open the diary only to find that the lock was still dutifully keeping the pages' secrets locked up tightly. With a quick yank though, the lock proved to be far too worn to be of any use for anyone with the strength of a ten year old. It came right off the book and into Blanche's hand. She set it down next to her and opened up the first page. To her surprise, it was in Russian. The pages were also very yellowed and brittle upon further examination. Blanche felt almost... forbidden to look upon the pages trapped in time. But her curiosity got the best of her and she began to read the script.

   'August, 1941. Kiev. I do not know how much longer we will be able to hide. Our neighbors have already been moved into the ghettos in Warsaw. The Soviets are trapped on all fronts. Europe will run red. Hitler will win. The Slavs will all be terminated. Only the Germans will exist. Hitler's reign will be terrifying; it will be unlike any before it. Luckily, we have not been noticed. But Kiev is already far from Russian reach. Stalin cannot keep making mistakes. I have already given up hope for a future for myself. My bloodline dies here.'

   "Good God..." Blanche muttered, "whoever this was knew they were going to die. Where is a name?"

She searched over the journal for a name but failed to find one. Just as she thought. She sighed; she would never know when wrote this now. Blanche opened the book back up and read on.

   'August 1941. Kiev. They nearly found us today. I thought we were doomed. All because our cat refused to shut up. It is not out fault we have no food to feed it. The cat would probably be shot if the Germans found us anyway. My mother entertained the thought of killing her for food. But I stood against it. She is the only friend I have. And yet, my only friend almost turned us in today. My father works all day and nearly all night, yet his bosses tell him to go home and rest with a smile. That stupid, fake smile. How can anyone be happy here. Where the Jews are fleeing I do not know. I think they may have fled to Switzerland. I wish I could flee to Switzerland. I wish... I wish...'

   "I wish..." a voice murmured, "I remember writing it many times over. I hoped it would happen. My magical escape."

Blanche's eyes flew open as she heard the voice. She looked around her train car to find a girl in the mirror in front of her.

   "A-are you...?"

   "Would you hear my story?"

Like a whoosh, Blanche was instantly taken back in time, though she didn't realize it until she noticed her surroundings. Everything was so real. The ground below her feet, the hunger pangs in her stomach, the weakness she felt in her entire body. Yet, she lifted up the shovel that was suddenly in her hands and began to work automatically, as if she were programmed to do it. A voice from all around her spoke to her in gentle words.

   "It was like this everyday..." the voice spoke, "I had been a Jew in Moscow, Russia's grand capitol. But in 1925 we fled the city in fear of another revolution. So we went to Kiev in the Ukraine, where family was. We lived here quite nicely, until the war began and Hitler's armies attacked. Soviet forces became trapped in what would be a huge mistake during the Battle of Kiev. The Germans had--"

   "Five hundred thousand forces... it would become a huge military failure on Stalin's part. The Soviets outnumbered them by at least two hundred thousand more men. But..."

   "They were surrounded by German forces and were either taken prisoner or killed. And, of course, Stalin's outrageous laws that forbade anyone to get captured would ensure that many soldiers kill themselves to escape capture. Only a handful of Russians made it out alive. This would be the start of my life's decline, straight into Hell."

From behind, a Nazi soldier noticed Blanche stopping her work and talking out loud, but nobody was there. He grunted and walked over to her, hitting her head with the butt of his rifle. She yelped in pain and turned around quickly.

   "What are you doing?! Stop praying to your God! He can't help you now!"

Blanche could only stand there in shock. How could he see her? She assumed she was like some sort of spirit, but he'd just hit her and saw her talking with the nameless girl. She could only nodded in fear, confusion and returned to working with the shovel. And then came the convulsions. Her body was trying to throw up, but nothing was there to leave the body. When she managed to stop she turned around only to see the same soldier going over to her. He actually looked concerned.

   "Eat some bread. If you don't work, Hitler will throw me in the gas chambers with you rats!"

   "They were always concerned for their own well being. There was never a time where any that I knew of actually helped us. One has to feel bad, though. These men were being forced to deal with things most didn't agree with. Nazi has a bad notation behind it, but a lot of people forget that a lot of the men were hollow shells of emotion, forced to do this. And then... the others, who were still puppets but willingly obeyed Hitler."

Blanche shakily consumed the bread - it was moldy to say the least. Certainly not what the soldiers themselves got. Suddenly she began to choke. The bread got stuck in her throat and she was unable to lodge it out. Her vision got dimmer and dimmer when suddenly she jolted herself awake on the train. She was in a panic, looking around the train car wildly. The diary was in her hands still, but on the page she last stopped reading. It appeared she had fallen asleep.

   "What a weird dream..."

Shortly after, her train stopped at her stop. She got up and gathered her things, including the diary, and left the train. On the way outside, she went to smooth her hair back only to feel an huge bump on her head - right where the Nazi had made contact with her skull in her "dream".

That was no dream...