Second Chance Matches | ONC 2020

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙚𝙣

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When the blackness finally lifted from her vision, Sabine tried to open her eyes but found that one of them was swollen shut. She grimaced in pain as she tried to peel it open but it wouldn't budge. Through her one good eye, she could see blank cement walls surrounding her and her wavering shadow dancing on the floor from a dimly-lit blinking bulb that hung directly above her head.

"Finally awake, you Jewish witch?" a familiar voice echoed around the room. Sabine struggled to turn to face the speaker because her arms and legs were bound to the chair she was sitting in with coarse rope.

"Where am I?" Sabine asked. "Why am I still alive?"

"A good question," the voice answered as its owner loomed into view. Sabine was confronted by the Nazi officer who had been holding the matchbox. The light cast a menacing shadow on his face that accentuated his sharp eyes and glinted off a name tag that read, "J. Wolf". Upon closer inspection, Sabine recognized him as the Rapportführer of Natzweiler-Strutof, who was in charge of disciplining prisoners and was known for his extensive cruelty. "We were going to light you on fire as a fitting punishment for your malfeasance, but when my cohort struck one of your matches he disappeared in a red blaze."

"I don't know what you're talking about..." Sabine attempted to lie but the officer saw right through her.

"What demonic magic did you curse us with?" Wolf leaned in close to her face and shouted. She could smell the sharp scent of booze lingering on his breath.

"N-nothing!" Sabine stammered. Wolf's piercing blue eyes stared into her own and she found herself unable to blink.

"You will tell me how it works and how I can harness it," Wolf demanded. "Where did it send him? Is he dead?"

"I don't know!"

"Lies!" Wolf snapped.

"I don't know where it sent him! I'm telling the truth!" Sabine pleaded with him to listen to her but he would not.

"We will find out, one way or another," Wolf retorted. He walked out of Sabine's sight and returned with a small silver blade that glinted under the dim light. Sabine felt small droplets of sweat growing on her forehead as the gleam off the knife blinded her one good eye. She pressed her back against the chair in an attempt to distance herself from Wolf and his blade as much as possible.

"Please," Sabine begged as tears came cascading down her cheeks. She was absolutely terrified of what the Nazis could do with the matches, but in that moment she was more scared of the man holding the knife. Her journey with the matchbox had made her grow up considerably since the start, but strapped to that chair with an imminent threat looming over her, Sabine felt like a child again.

Wolf traced the tip of the blade along Sabine's cheekbone, collecting her tear drops on the shiny silver as it went. The cold metal mixed with her fear of the knife sent goosebumps up and down her arms. "Tell me what the matches do and how I can use them."

Sabine gritted her teeth and tried to slow her racing heart before she answered, "I can't."

With a quick movement, Wolf had swiped the blade across her cheek and left a long, red cut. Sabine whimpered as a burning sensation emanated from the wound and consumed half of her face. Drops of blood mixed with her tears and rolled over her lips, filling her mouth with the taste of salt and iron.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" Wolf snarled. He moved the knife from her face down to her arm.

Sabine's lip trembled as she forced herself to look Wolf in his eyes. "I can't," she repeated.