Isn't it confusing, what first love does to a man?
Story where Alexine is Soldier Boy's first love and rekindle after many years apart.
[UNGOING]
[Warnings; smut, angst, torture, mention of torture, trauma, physical abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse...
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The night in Dachau was still, save for the persistent howling of the wind that swept through the camp. The sound was a constant, eerie whisper, threading its way through the narrow gaps in Alexine's small room. She lay on her thin mattress, staring up at the ceiling, unable to find a position that would alleviate the pain coursing through her body.
The bruises from the day's tests were beginning to throb, a constant reminder of her predicament. How long had she been there? A week, two? She didn't know, no one told her anything.
She shifted restlessly, trying to find comfort, but each movement only seemed to aggravate her discomfort. Her limbs ached, the pain a sharp contrast to the biting chill that seeped into the room despite the heavy blanket covering her.
Alexine's mind was a maelstrom of regret and fear. She replayed the events of the past few days over and over, each memory more vivid and haunting than the last. The image of her father's face, filled with concern and disappointment, seemed to hover in her thoughts, a poignant reminder of the safety and familiarity she had abandoned.
She cursed herself for not heeding her father's warnings, for letting desperation cloud her judgment. If only she had just accepted how she lived... The promise of compensation and the vague assurances from Dr. Vogelbaum now felt hollow. Her initial resolve had been driven by a fierce desire to protect her father, but now it was overshadowed by a gnawing sense of dread.
Every creak of the old building, every distant murmur from the camp beyond, seemed to amplify her anxiety. The wind's mournful howling sounded like a harbinger of the suffering to come. The isolation, the harsh conditions, and the looming uncertainty of the experiments pressed heavily on her spirit.
Alexine longed for home, for the comforting routine of her life in Lyon, for the warmth of her father's presence. The reality of her situation was sinking in with cruel clarity, and she could barely suppress the wave of homesickness that threatened to overwhelm her.
She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out the noise and the pain, but sleep eluded her. The nightmares of the day's events and the uncertainty of what lay ahead kept her trapped in a restless wakefulness. Each hour felt like an eternity, and the promise of a better tomorrow seemed to fade with every passing minute.
In the stillness of the night, Alexine's resolve wavered. The strength she had clung to was fraying at the edges, and all she could think about was the choice she had made and the price she would have to pay. The hope that had initially driven her was now mingled with fear, leaving her alone in the darkness with nothing but her troubled thoughts and the relentless wind.
The days that followed were a relentless descent into torment. The initial tests had been grueling, but they had only been a prelude to what was now an unending cycle of suffering. Alexine's once bright brown eyes had dulled, and her once radiant face was now marred by bruises and swelling. The harsh reality of her situation had become glaringly clear.
