The never-ending rain continued its assault, turning the paths from packed dirt to soft messy mud. The skies were almost pitch black at night, no stars or moonlight visible through the heavy clouds that only brought more water with them. A young woman did her best to avoid the larger piles of water as she quickly made her way down a back ally of the small French town, her feet already soaked through with the cold water, and her black coat offering little protection from the constant onslaught. She carried no candle or source of light with her- no one could know she was out here. Instead, she made her way through the winding streets that she knew as well as the back of her hand.
Glancing back every so often, almost sure that the sound of footsteps were intermingling with the pattering of the rain, the woman finally reached a wooden door at the back of a house. With three sharp knocks followed by a short whistle, a small eye slot opened. Old wrinkled eyes peered out, silhouetted by the faint glow of a fire. The slot closed as quickly as it opened and the door opened after the sound of multiple locks being undone. “Quickly child. Were you followed?” Asked an old man as he ushered her in.
“No, I made sure to make a few loops before coming here just in case. Not even the cats are out in this rain,” the woman responded as she quickly made her way in front of the fire. Her entire body was soaked through and the heat was too inviting to ignore.
“You look like a drowned rat Clarice! Hold on, I think I have some of Maria’s old clothes I can give you to dry off in. They’re around here somewhere,” said the old man as he began shuffling around, digging into an old chest.
“Thank you Doc,” Clarice responded, removing the heavy coat, hanging it on a chair close to the fire, hoping to dry it out a bit before she’d have to make her return. The young woman, no older than 21, did her best to wring out her long wavy auburn hair. “They hit Arago Street this morning. Almost completely destroyed the deli…” the woman reported as she graciously took the dry clothes from the man.
“And you weren’t anywhere near there at the time were you,” he said with a bit of a twinkle in his eye, knowing the answer.
“Of course not,” she said, even though they both new as soon as the sounds of bombings went off, Clarice had a bad habit of going to investigate.
“You know, one of these days your nine lives will run out petit chaton,” he teased. Before she had time to respond though, banging on the back door shook the entire room. “Quickly,” he said in a hushed panicked whisper as he covered the table littered with papers with a cloth. Clarice had instinctively already made her way into the hole under the floorboards. The little bit of light that made it through the cracks was quickly gone, covering Clarice in darkness, as the old man covered the entrance with a rug. Again, the room shook as the banging became even more forcefully. “Oi! I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m just an old man you know,” he cursed as he finally opened the peep hole. Instead of the sound of the door opening to guards as Clarice had expected, all that came from the old man was a gasp of fear.
One more round of banging shook Clarice to the bones before the sound of the door opening. “Henry, what in heaven’s name. What…” the old man sounded confused and concerned. Almost disgusted. Instead of a gravelly voice that Clarice was familiar with, there was a sickening half-growl half-pained cry that was very unhuman. Knowing it was just Henry though, Clarice started to lift up the floorboard to see why the Doc was so concerned.
A small squeak of a yell escaped Clarice before she could catch herself. That…that thing in front of her was not Henry. It was barely even human! In a ripped French uniform stood a hunchback, covered in scars and fresh wounds. Bones seemed to pull at the skin in some places and hang in others. What once was a fairly attractive face was now the face of a monster. It looked as if his face was melting right off. His bottom lip was much larger than it should have been, and pulled slightly to one side. His eyes seemed much too large for his face, and his nose much too flat. Everything was wrong. This wasn’t Henry.
The man... Henry…monster thing seemed to be distressed, wheezing for breath as his hands shook with papers in his hands, covered and soaked in rain and mud. Every breath the thing took seemed to wrack his whole body and every movement was jerky and random. Clarice was frozen in place, her heart pounding as fast as if she had just been running. She locked eyes with the beast and couldn’t pull her stare away. Pain and sadness oozed from behind his eyes. Suffering and yet a blank stare as if he was looking past her at the same time. It was the same look a lot of the returning soldiers had- the thousand mile stare they called it. What had happened to him…
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“You should be off Clarice. I’ll deal with this. Just give me the notes you have and I’ll see you around the shop tomorrow,” said the old man dismissively as he gave the young woman a hand out of the hiding space. The woman’s eyes never left the creature as she stood up, fixated as if they were glued there.
“I’ll do no such thing,” Clarice responded defiantly as she looked away for the first time in several minutes to glare at the doctor.
“Clarice, this isn’t just passing notes or moving around refuges. We don’t know what we’ve just stumbled upon. Now, go home,” he insisted, carefully leading her towards the door, helping her put back on her still damp coat.
“Doc, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m not playing war here. I know the risks, I’ve known them for years now. What if that thing decides to attack you? Then what? I suppose you’ll be fighting him off won’t yah?” Clarice spat as she spun out of his grasp. “Please. Let me help. Let me at least figure out what happened to him,” she pleaded.
With an exasperated sigh, the old man gave a wave admitting defeat. Clarice was much too hard headed to be talked out of it. He turned his attention back to the creature who seemed to try to talk. Instead of words though, all that came out was mixed up garbles and coughs. With every failing word, the beast became more and more frustrated and distressed. “Who did this to you? Henry please, can you write maybe?” the old man asked handing him a pen and scratch paper. The animal just threw the pen across the room, becoming more and more upset. Before either one could do anything though, another knock came from the door.
In German first followed by broken French, a voice called out, “Open up. MPs here are here to investigate. We heard the ruckus, we know you’re there. Open up!” Panicked, Clarice found herself being shoved back into the hole with the beast. Uncomfortable close, and reeking of death, Clarice pushed herself up as far away from the creature as the small hide-away would allow. Not seeming to understand the danger they’d be in if they were discovered, the creature continued to breath loudly, wheezing and cough.
“Shh! If they hear you, they might take you back! Quiet please,” she pleaded, wishing that she had taken the doctor up on his original offer to leave. Still, the creature wheezed. Someone, understanding the danger he was putting everyone in, the monster reached into his torn uniform and pulled out his gun, shooting himself in the head before Clarice could even react. Just like that. Blood pooled around her feet as the monster crumbled up against her, crushing her against the wall a bit.
The door was slammed open at the sound of the shot, and footsteps ran in. Yelling in German filled the room as three German officers ran in, trying to find the source of the gunfire. Clarice held her breath, struggling to breathe through her nose with the weight of the beast pressed up against her, but never daring to move for fear of being found. Eventually the yelling between the old man and the officers quieted down to just a heated discussion. Doors were thrown open, and every nook and cranny were explored as the doctor tried to explain that the gun shot didn’t come from the house. It must have been where the earlier attacks were occurring.
What seemed like hours passed before they finally left. “You can come out now petit chaton.” Shaking, and struggling against the weight, Clarice crawled out of the hole, covered in blood and grime from the monster. She couldn’t help but feel the painful sting of tears that threatened to fall. Clarice had seen death, but never two feet away from her. And not self inflicted. How much pain must he have been in to have caused him to act in such a way? The old man just took her into his arms as she could feel herself begin to shake. It had been a long time since she had felt so small and like a child. He just brushed her hair and rocked her like he used to when she was just a few years old. No tears fell, but Clarice still felt hollow as if they were.
Clarice eventually pulled away though. She wasn’t a child. Not anymore. Not since the war. Swallowing hard, but with her voice still shaking. “We should clean this place up. I’ll put on some tea for us,” she said, already moving towards the kettle.
Glancing back every so often, almost sure that the sound of footsteps were intermingling with the pattering of the rain, the woman finally reached a wooden door at the back of a house. With three sharp knocks followed by a short whistle, a small eye slot opened. Old wrinkled eyes peered out, silhouetted by the faint glow of a fire. The slot closed as quickly as it opened and the door opened after the sound of multiple locks being undone. “Quickly child. Were you followed?” Asked an old man as he ushered her in.
“No, I made sure to make a few loops before coming here just in case. Not even the cats are out in this rain,” the woman responded as she quickly made her way in front of the fire. Her entire body was soaked through and the heat was too inviting to ignore.
“You look like a drowned rat Clarice! Hold on, I think I have some of Maria’s old clothes I can give you to dry off in. They’re around here somewhere,” said the old man as he began shuffling around, digging into an old chest.
“Thank you Doc,” Clarice responded, removing the heavy coat, hanging it on a chair close to the fire, hoping to dry it out a bit before she’d have to make her return. The young woman, no older than 21, did her best to wring out her long wavy auburn hair. “They hit Arago Street this morning. Almost completely destroyed the deli…” the woman reported as she graciously took the dry clothes from the man.
“And you weren’t anywhere near there at the time were you,” he said with a bit of a twinkle in his eye, knowing the answer.
“Of course not,” she said, even though they both new as soon as the sounds of bombings went off, Clarice had a bad habit of going to investigate.
“You know, one of these days your nine lives will run out petit chaton,” he teased. Before she had time to respond though, banging on the back door shook the entire room. “Quickly,” he said in a hushed panicked whisper as he covered the table littered with papers with a cloth. Clarice had instinctively already made her way into the hole under the floorboards. The little bit of light that made it through the cracks was quickly gone, covering Clarice in darkness, as the old man covered the entrance with a rug. Again, the room shook as the banging became even more forcefully. “Oi! I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m just an old man you know,” he cursed as he finally opened the peep hole. Instead of the sound of the door opening to guards as Clarice had expected, all that came from the old man was a gasp of fear.
One more round of banging shook Clarice to the bones before the sound of the door opening. “Henry, what in heaven’s name. What…” the old man sounded confused and concerned. Almost disgusted. Instead of a gravelly voice that Clarice was familiar with, there was a sickening half-growl half-pained cry that was very unhuman. Knowing it was just Henry though, Clarice started to lift up the floorboard to see why the Doc was so concerned.
A small squeak of a yell escaped Clarice before she could catch herself. That…that thing in front of her was not Henry. It was barely even human! In a ripped French uniform stood a hunchback, covered in scars and fresh wounds. Bones seemed to pull at the skin in some places and hang in others. What once was a fairly attractive face was now the face of a monster. It looked as if his face was melting right off. His bottom lip was much larger than it should have been, and pulled slightly to one side. His eyes seemed much too large for his face, and his nose much too flat. Everything was wrong. This wasn’t Henry.
The man... Henry…monster thing seemed to be distressed, wheezing for breath as his hands shook with papers in his hands, covered and soaked in rain and mud. Every breath the thing took seemed to wrack his whole body and every movement was jerky and random. Clarice was frozen in place, her heart pounding as fast as if she had just been running. She locked eyes with the beast and couldn’t pull her stare away. Pain and sadness oozed from behind his eyes. Suffering and yet a blank stare as if he was looking past her at the same time. It was the same look a lot of the returning soldiers had- the thousand mile stare they called it. What had happened to him…
-----------
“You should be off Clarice. I’ll deal with this. Just give me the notes you have and I’ll see you around the shop tomorrow,” said the old man dismissively as he gave the young woman a hand out of the hiding space. The woman’s eyes never left the creature as she stood up, fixated as if they were glued there.
“I’ll do no such thing,” Clarice responded defiantly as she looked away for the first time in several minutes to glare at the doctor.
“Clarice, this isn’t just passing notes or moving around refuges. We don’t know what we’ve just stumbled upon. Now, go home,” he insisted, carefully leading her towards the door, helping her put back on her still damp coat.
“Doc, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m not playing war here. I know the risks, I’ve known them for years now. What if that thing decides to attack you? Then what? I suppose you’ll be fighting him off won’t yah?” Clarice spat as she spun out of his grasp. “Please. Let me help. Let me at least figure out what happened to him,” she pleaded.
With an exasperated sigh, the old man gave a wave admitting defeat. Clarice was much too hard headed to be talked out of it. He turned his attention back to the creature who seemed to try to talk. Instead of words though, all that came out was mixed up garbles and coughs. With every failing word, the beast became more and more frustrated and distressed. “Who did this to you? Henry please, can you write maybe?” the old man asked handing him a pen and scratch paper. The animal just threw the pen across the room, becoming more and more upset. Before either one could do anything though, another knock came from the door.
In German first followed by broken French, a voice called out, “Open up. MPs here are here to investigate. We heard the ruckus, we know you’re there. Open up!” Panicked, Clarice found herself being shoved back into the hole with the beast. Uncomfortable close, and reeking of death, Clarice pushed herself up as far away from the creature as the small hide-away would allow. Not seeming to understand the danger they’d be in if they were discovered, the creature continued to breath loudly, wheezing and cough.
“Shh! If they hear you, they might take you back! Quiet please,” she pleaded, wishing that she had taken the doctor up on his original offer to leave. Still, the creature wheezed. Someone, understanding the danger he was putting everyone in, the monster reached into his torn uniform and pulled out his gun, shooting himself in the head before Clarice could even react. Just like that. Blood pooled around her feet as the monster crumbled up against her, crushing her against the wall a bit.
The door was slammed open at the sound of the shot, and footsteps ran in. Yelling in German filled the room as three German officers ran in, trying to find the source of the gunfire. Clarice held her breath, struggling to breathe through her nose with the weight of the beast pressed up against her, but never daring to move for fear of being found. Eventually the yelling between the old man and the officers quieted down to just a heated discussion. Doors were thrown open, and every nook and cranny were explored as the doctor tried to explain that the gun shot didn’t come from the house. It must have been where the earlier attacks were occurring.
What seemed like hours passed before they finally left. “You can come out now petit chaton.” Shaking, and struggling against the weight, Clarice crawled out of the hole, covered in blood and grime from the monster. She couldn’t help but feel the painful sting of tears that threatened to fall. Clarice had seen death, but never two feet away from her. And not self inflicted. How much pain must he have been in to have caused him to act in such a way? The old man just took her into his arms as she could feel herself begin to shake. It had been a long time since she had felt so small and like a child. He just brushed her hair and rocked her like he used to when she was just a few years old. No tears fell, but Clarice still felt hollow as if they were.
Clarice eventually pulled away though. She wasn’t a child. Not anymore. Not since the war. Swallowing hard, but with her voice still shaking. “We should clean this place up. I’ll put on some tea for us,” she said, already moving towards the kettle.
