Torture at the Prison when you've thrown up on the commander's best boots
Torture at the prison is bad enough. Torture at the prison when you've thrown up on the commander's best boots is worse: much, much worse. Non-stop, throughout the day, you are tortured, with all the usual methods and some reserved for the worst prisoners. Humiliation tactics, physical harm tactics, emotional harm tactics: they employ them all, and employ them well. Von Steubon has already gotten several of my prison mates to give him the information he so desires. Oddly enough, he is not present at these torture sessions; they are, instead, carried out under the supervision of one of the soldiers underneath him.
By the end of the first day, I was only wanting to die. I was covered in welts, burns, bruises, and lacerations. My fingernails and toenails had had pins pushed under them and ripped back out, the blood only just drying, and caked around my nails. Even going back to my room seemed like a blessing, but no: instead, I was led back before von Steubon. The last time I had seen him was last night, after I vomited all over him.
He pretended as though it were an ordinary interrogation. I still refused to give him the information he wanted. He stepped towards me, and raised his hand. I closed my eyes and braced myself for his hand to come down. It never did. He had only been gesturing at the guards. I was, finally, to be taken to my cell.
It was a brief respite from the torture, but I would cling to the momentary relief that it brought.
***
image: German Gestapo brass id tag
YOU ARE READING
Winfred
Historical FictionThe Women's Guard, The Soldier, The Nazi, The Spy. The Spy turned Prisoner. As they say, dead men (or women, as the case may be) tell no tales. But Kathleen Winfred isn't dead; she managed to escape. Now, the story of her capture by Nazis in occup...
