-Narrator: Mark.
I sat down, next to him. I collected all my courage and tried not to slip tears away as I remember the nightmares that haunted me when I sleep.
''Get comfortable, this is going to be long...''
-Narrator: Mark. (Telling the story.)
I was born in the third of march on 1923, in London. It was one of the most beautiful cit- uh... villages I've ever seen. Both my father and mother were Jewish, one of the few in the place at the time. My father was a great painter and, above anything else, stubborn. That might sound familiar to you... My mother was... the best; she was generous and kind, I loved her so much. I also had a brother, Jack, whitch was playful and very kind as well. I guess that comes from the family.
Anyway, I grew up there, but seven years later, we moved to Berlin because of... well... I was seven, so I don't know why we moved. But we did, and it wasn't any good for us at first, mainly because of our religion. But when we got to know the people on our neighborhood, we became good friends with everyone.
As I told you before, we were having a great life so far. That was until a man by the name of Adolf Hitler became... let's say the chief of the village. He is what we call a racist. Or a dictator. I don't know what is worse... but there was one thing for sure, he doesen't like jews. He thinks they are trash, animals. And he throws them to concentration camps to let them die.
So yeah... He became the chief, and his first order was to erradicate all the non- Aryan people in his village. And because we were inside of that group, we had problems from that day foward. At first, we could hide our religion to the people. But then, a war started. Hitler didn't want to control his village, he wanted all the world for him, for his country. And with the reinforcement of the city, our little secret was discovered by a nazi policeman.
I remember exactly how it happened: two days later, a dozen of soldiers entered our house by knocking the door down, then grabbed me and my brother, and took me out. By the time they got my mother, we were in the front foor with two guns pointing at our heads. Suddenly, my dad came back home, and found us in that situation. In an instant reaction, he grabbed one of the guns and shot a soldier in front of us, then another one. But the one that was restraining us took out his rifle and landed a shot in my dad's forehead, who fell dead instantly. I shouted, as hard as I could, trying to set free from the man who killed my dad. My brother doing the same, and my mom on the ground, crying.
Then, they got us chained inside a van, and drove to the nearest concentration camp they got.
I was devastated, not to mention, of course, my mom and my brother. I honestly think I was the one that overcomed it faster. The next two days we didn't talk between each other, we just kind of followed the nazi's instructions, hoping mercy.
Mercy that, as spected, didn't came.
One month later, they assigned us a place in one of the concentration camp's on the outskirts of Berlin. We entered with another wave of jews that suffered the same fate than us. Sometimes even worse.
If you don't undestand it by now, a concentration camp is where the undesirable people go to die. They don't give you food, water, or breaks. You work twenty four hours, the seven days of the week, all year. When you work slower than others, you die. When you get so tired you can't even walk, you die. When you want food, you die. And the same happens to everyone that enters, because nobody has ever come out of there alive besides me. At least for what I know.
We spent there around a week before our strength started decreasing, we worked slower and less efficiently. And so, the general assigned to the camp decided that we, and another hundread of slaves, had to perish.
On a cold night of Octover, soldiers with machine guns leaded us to a big concrete building, full of metal doors inside. They divided the people and got the groups into the rooms, then locked the doors with us inside. My mom layed on one wall, too tired even for crying. Me and my brother were almost in the same condition, but we stood up and looked around. Then suddenly, Jack saw a little hole on the wall, he reached out to me and then to my mother. All of us scraped the wall with our nails, there was no time for being polite, survival was our only thought. Thankfully, the hole became wide enough for my brother and me to pass. But my mother couldn't fit. ''Go! We have no time!'' She said. ''We are not leaving without you!'' My brother answered. ''You need to, it's me or the three of us.'' She said with a calm, smooth voice. Tears started forming in my eyes, and I knew she was right... I hugged her, for the last time.
Suddenly, we heard the hissing sound of the gas starting to enter the room. All at once, the people inside started crying and smashing the door, trying to break it. ''Go! It's your last chance!'' Mother repeated. And I crawled out of the hole as fast as I could. When I got out, I looked around: only trees and forest in front of me. ''It's safe! Get out Jack!'' My brother started crawling out as well, but suddenly, we heard a man's voice going: ''Here! An exit!'' And from that moment, everything went so fast. My brother got sucked in again my the insane amount of people that were desperately trying to get out of the room before lethal gas consume their body. ''Get out of the way!'' I heard someboy shout.
But all of them were too big for entering, and in within minutes, everything went silent, only the hissing sound of the gas and my own sobs could be heard. I spent half an hour there waiting for the smallest hint telling me that what I had left of my family was alive. But nothing happened, and that drove me furious. All the crying and sadness became anger and rage in mare seconds.
Suddenly, I was running to the nearest base to satisfy my thirst of blood.
Not long after, I encountered a base with supplies and weapons, but most importantly; a plane. There was a lot of guards, and I had no weapons, but I managed to get some and then the plane. All of this killing everything that I encountered with my own hands. Later I figured that the plane was a prototype for the german air force. Not anymore.
After the fast visit to the base, I headed with the plane to my home. I landed in a plain not far from my house. I gotta say that I was lucky, as I didn't got spotted. That was thanks to the recent war opening, because the police was all on the center of the city or fighting in the front line.
When I entered the flat, I found everything upside down, broken, or just missing. After all the suffering, my anger was in a level I never imagined it to be. But those silly nazi's forgot about a thing.
My dad had a weapon that belonged to his father, this is, my grandfather. It was a revolver. Hidden on a secret compartment behind the closet. I took it and then flew out of the village as fast as my plane could. After that, there is not much to say anymore... I flew to the north and passed this last year fighting for gassoline, food and water. Not long after, I found this island, and then your village.
You know the rest of the story...
-Narrator: Mark. (Normal timeline again)
I stood up, looking at Hiccup, who was speechless. ''You must understand, there is not even a chance for any of the vikings on that island to survive if they come out of this archipielago.'' I finished. ''I'm protecting you. It's too dangerous.''
And I left him there, processing all the information.
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The Black fire (BOOK 1)
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