Concentration

Chapter two

Harry's POV:

Liam and I were given strict orders to only step in if they needed help to detain a prisoner, otherwise we should stay out of the way. So that's what I did. I stood there, motionless, taking in the sight around me.

They try to use nightfall to their advantage, timing it just right to make sure their shipments didn't arrive in the daylight. They used the moon to eclipse their wrong doings. No matter how hard they tried, even the darkest of nights couldn't cloak their evils.

When they pulled open the metal doors to the carts some prisoners used this as an opportunity for escape, only to be gunned down in their attempt for freedom. My gun, however, felt cold against my callused hands, no bullets escaping the chamber. I find comfort in the irony of the cold, everything here seems to be just a few degrees colder. The metal of my gun, the air surrounding these gates, even my soul has grown a few degrees colder upon. I welcome the cold, I revel in it.

Wailing of prisoners pierce my ears and it takes everything in me not to drop my gun, curl up in the fetal position, and shield my ears from the vehement screams. It's moments like these where I crave the silence and isolation. I don't though. I stand there clutching my gun too tight and a deep scrawl set on my face. My jaw is clench and my eyes set straight in front of me. This is the man I have become and it makes my stomach turn, I'm just a shell of what I was, her and the war burning all traces of the Harry that was. My canvas has been stained with blood and tears, nothing being able to remove them. No, my stains are permanent.

There were 3 lines of prisoners, one for men of the ages 13-60, women of ages 13-60, and a mixed group consisting of children, elderly, and mentally/physically handicapped. The mixed group was sent straight to the gas chambers upon arrival, as they were deemed not of use to help produce in the factories.

Husbands were separated from their wives, fathers from their daughters, mothers from their sons, brothers from their sisters. You were ripped from the arms of your loved ones never to witness them again as they're posted in the mass of feeble bodies.

"Harry," Liam nudges me with his elbow, using the barrel of his gun to point in the direction he was wanting me to look. "Should we do something about it?" He looks as me with a raised brow.

Two nazis are circling a young woman who has a protective grasp on what I'm assuming is her younger brother. A look of disgust lingers on her face as the nazis whistle and torment her. I know my face is baring the same abhorred expression.

"Yeah, I got it," I nod to Liam, swinging my gun behind my shoulder.

"Aren't you just the protective older sister," I hear one of the soldiers hiss with a smirk as I approach.

"What's going on?" I address the dickhead nazis. The girl peers behind her, our height difference causing her to tilt her head so her eyes find mine. Her beauty astounds me. Soft, angelic features with a pair of brown eyes to match. Eyes that though are strained and tired, still have life and hope behind them. I was looking into the eyes of an angel, who got lost inside the gates of hell.

Eden's POV:

"What's going on?" I hear a deep, rasp voice ask from behind me. The onset of another soldier sends a frightening shiver down my spine. I dry swallow before turning around to see the face of my next tormentor. When I first turn around my eyes landed on his broad chest where I noticed his uniform wasn't Nazi but that of the French. I tilt my head up until I meet his green eyes, the green of his eyes being so vibrant they still shine in the dark of the night.

He wasn't like any other soldier, this I could see. His looks making him stand out completely from the rest. For starters, he had long wild curls that were tied back in a rag whereas all the other soldiers were skinheads. Though his brows were furrowed and a serious expression masked his face I could still see the soft impressions of his dimples. His lips were pouty and cheery red, with a sharp complimenting jawline.