Trembling

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I may be writing a bit differently compared to these last chapters, I don't tend to write out accents as much anymore lmao.

Request by: @Uncle____Jack
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P.o.V: 3rd
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Working for Group 935 wasn't easy by any means. (Y/N) knew that for sure. She'd always witness the 'unethical' damage sustained to PoW's and voluntary applicants first-hand. After all, she worked as a nurse.

  She didn't agree with the war at all. She was the type of person who kept to themselves in regards to personal life and belief, and especially now with everything going on. She nearly felt ashamed to be a german citizen at this point in time.

  It was hard for her to witness everything that happened to the PoW's. Most of the military send them here, and nothing good ever comes out of that. Most wind up dead before they even reach her, others would be damaged far beyond the point of possible recovery.

(Y/N) sat at her desk, scribbling down notes in her journal to update medical statuses. But she sighed, the only notes she could take consisted of just one word.

  'Verstorbene'
('Deceased')

  Over and over she had to write that same word for each patient she'd seen within the last few days. It was upsetting for her. Frustrating, even. Nothing would work. Whatever experiments they've been conducting have left no survivors recently.

  She closed her journal, running a hand over her (s/c) face. She pinched the bridge of her nose with another audible sigh, wishing she could do something that would save these men.

  At that moment, she jumped at the sudden sound of her door being pushed open rather forcefully. She wasn't particularly happy with who'd walked through the door.

  Dr. Edward Richtofen.

  Where most of her critical patients come from.

  He held his right hand in his left, covered by a crimson red piece of clothe. His face was contorted into a scowl. Whatever happened to him seemed to have made him angry.

  "Dr. Richtofen, what happened?" She asked, but her voice was neutral. She quickly stood to her feet, walking over to him as he approached.

  "One of my subjects managed to get a hold of something sharp. It stabbed me in the hand as I went to continue my work. Roughly 13mm into my hand." He hissed.

  His consistent use of the term 'it' as a replacement for 'he' always disturbed her.

  She walked over to her medical cabinets, grabbing the necessary items required to clean and sew up the wound.

  "How long?" She asks, looking over her shoulder.

  "25mm. Nothing rusty." He responded, hissing once again.

  'Not too long.' (Y/N) responded. She made quick work of the rather small puncture wound, almost effortlessly. She finished in less than five minutes. He takes to his feet as soon as she finishes, thanking her rather quietly, but she calls out to him.

  "W-wait!"

  He looked back at her, his face now looking neutral. But he quirked a brow in her direction.

  "Wh-what...what are you...doing to all of these men...?" She asked shakily. She knew better than to ask this, but she just had to know.

  Richtofen's lips curved into a subtle smirk at her question, walking back over to her with his hands clasped together behind his back.

  "Why do you want to know?" He tilts his head slightly, almost questioningly.

  "I-I just...Th-they keep dying! It's beginning t-to waste medical efforts and supplies, an-and whatever it is—it-it...it has to stop!" She flushed a light shade of pink. (Y/N) knew very well that she was now crossing many lines, but it was out of desperation for the lives being lost.

  By this point, Richtofen stood directly in front of her, looking down at her as she fumbled with her hands. He takes her chin between his left thumb and index finger, forcing her to look up into his eyes. But he remained silent, as if contemplating what he was or wasn't going to say.

  "You're walking on thin ice here, (Y/N). I wouldn't want to fall in, if I were you. So, why don't you continue to focus on your own work?" His tone was nothing short of condescending.

  "B-But this is my work, Dr. Richtofen. I-I can't even reach the possibility of recovery—!" His grip tightened, his brows furrowing. The doctor's menacing look caused her to choke on her own words.

But then he just smiled lightly, loosening his grip.

"Then the solution is simple, any patients from this point forward that come from me can be logged as deceased. No medical efforts or supplies will be wasted, und you won't have to worry your pretty little head over a lost cause." Richtofen made his tone sickeningly sweet, as if it were the most simple and obvious answer.

"Th-that's not how that—that works! You can't keep killing—!" His grip tightens again, pulling her closer to his face.

"You're very lucky you're so cute, (Y/N)." He growled. She was trembling, and he loved that.

"Wh-what...?" (Y/N) shook, feeling her face heat up.

"You heard me. If I didn't already like you, you'd end up like one of your patients." Richtofen's voice was low, a stern tone lacing his words.

She didn't understand why she felt so hot all of a sudden.

  "I'd kiss you, but I'm starting to think you don't deserve it." He raised his head a bit, watching her tremble more.

  "I-I..." (Y/N) was speechless. She couldn't even think properly. Why did she...want that?

  It seemed like those thoughts flashed in her eyes, and Richtofen could see it.

  Both by the look in her eyes, and the color of her cheeks.

  That's when he made up his mind. A smirk pulled at his lips as he released his grip, turning on his heels as he walked away.

  "Perhaps I'll have made up my mind by tomorrow."

  He left the room with those words. Now it was quiet. (Y/N) didn't know what to think or say.

  She didn't know if she was upset with him for killing all of these people, or if she was upset with him for leaving like that.

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  I feel like the ending was a bit rushed...if you guys like this one I'll make a part two to continue it :)

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⏰ Last updated: May 13, 2020 ⏰

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