Seravian
Androgynous Dragon
A/N: Since I'm too chicken shit to have any of my current works posted, I figured I would dig through my graveyard and look back at a character I wrote a few years ago. The thread was a WWII story with horror/supernatural elements. Kind of a 'stop the evil thing from happening' kind of deal, and, as it was a group thread, heavily focused on both characters and story.
My character, Udo Drechsler, aka 'Bluthund', was a Gestapo officer, very loyal to the Fatherland, who kind of stumbled into the mess accidentally. Wrong place at the right time. He was honestly one of my favorite characters ever written and, out of every post in that thread, I figured this one would do nicely as a little glimpse into him as a character.
God, I ramble too much... Anyway, since it's older writing, I won't feel too bad for having it judged by the amazing people here haha
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"So," Udo's cold voice echoed in the small room, "are you willing to cooperate?" He stood leaned over the desk, staring down at his victim, drumming his fingers on the wooden surface.
This was Udo's favorite room for a number of reasons. Hardly any light illuminated the small area. The only sources were the good old light bulb dangling from the ceiling, over the desk, and the single window which was obscured by curtains. It was cramped and gave off a sense of claustrophobia, uncomfortable for anyone, and, a dark and malicious feeling, which sank to ones bone, lingered in the air. Yet he felt at home; this was a place where he carried out most of his work after all, it was only natural that he'd enjoy it.
The man sitting on the other side of the desk, with his hands bound uncomfortably behind his back with handcuffs that dug into his wrists, was nonresponsive. He kept his head lowered, staring at the floor with a vacant and unfocused gaze. Dry blood caked the man's right temple; here was a deep gash above his eyebrow, where it looked like he had either been struck with something heavy or had hit his head. More than likely the latter, as he was still conscious. He was trembling to the point where the handcuffs that bound him were rubbing against the chair.
Udo slid the book that was sitting in the center of the desk, whose title was written in Hebrew, toward the man and spoke again, "Let's try again. All I want is for you to help me translate some text from this book."
This book had been confiscated from a bookstore in the Jewish ghetto. It looked like it was an older book, and also had perhaps belonged to a collection for the Roman Numeral 'II' accompanied the title. It was supposed to have been burned, but Udo had saved it from such a fate.
The man to whom the book once belonged might have seemed off his rocker on the surface, when he was brought in for questioning, but Udo overheard him mentioning something about an evil coming to Europe, that would change the world. Since the night at the hotel, the thoughts of something greater threatening Germany had plagued his mind, almost to the point of obsession. He wanted to learn more about the world of demons and angels but was never able to get around to investigating. Then, three weeks ago this man showed up and he got his chance.
Apparently, there was more about it somewhere in that book.
Much to his dismay, the man was too caught up in his own mind, and he was unable to get a satisfactory answer from him once he was able to have a go at him. All he did was talk in circles, saying the same things over and over again. Some evil was about to sweep through not just Germany but Europe as a whole. That was it, nothing more, and it was almost infuriating. However, he had pointed him in the direction of the man who was not sitting before him.
"You're only making this harder on yourself," he said with feigned annoyance, raising his voice slightly, after he had received no response, shaking the thoughts from his mind and bringing his attention back to what was most important, getting that information. He began walked around the desk and started to pace the room. "You could have been out of here already. I'm sure your family back home is wondering where you are, so why don't you just talk? Is translating a book really too much to ask?" He looked out of the corner of his eye, searching for any signs of reaction from the man.
Yet the man remained silent and Udo was feeling his patience being tried more and more.
He continued speaking, "I'm losing my patience. That tongue of yours, perhaps I need to loosen it more." He halted his pacing, turned to face the man, and then walked over behind him, leaning in close to his ear. "What do you think? Do we need to go another round?" His eyes moved over toward the corner of the desk, and then he placed his hand on the man's shoulder, grinning as he immediately tensed.
The fear that rolled off this man was euphoric. Udo reveled in the sheer terror in the man's gaze, and, making his grip a little firmer, he decided to dig his fingers in a bit more. He hoped that would be persuasive enough. While he was generally a patient man when it came to this, he was desperate, his was beginning to surface more and more, and he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to hold it back. He wanted nothing more than to dig his fingers in so hard that he drew blood, to inflict more pain, to hear this man scream.
A knock on the door interrupted the moment, before Udo could get any more from this man, causing annoyance to replace every emotion that was there prior. He let out an irritated sigh and quickly moved to the desk, tucking the book under his coat.
"Enter," he said.
The man who entered was an older man, balding, with a seemingly permanent scowl on his face. He wasted no time getting down to business, "Well, Herr Drechsler, were you able to get anything out of him?"
Udo shook his head, "Unfortunately, I was not. He may need a few days," he looked over his shoulder to the man, who was still staring blankly at the ground. As tempting as it was to play up the interrogation, and scare the man some more, he decided against it. If he spoke up while he had company in the room it would mean the end of him.
"No? I have to admit, Herr Drechsler, that isn't the answer I was expecting. Don't tell me you've grown soft on us."
"Grown soft? I'm offended, Herr Rotz, truly. This man happens to be… unbelievably stubborn. I'm sure we'll get the location of the others eventually, he just needs a bit more time."
"I see. I don't suppose it'd hurt if I tried to get anything out of him."
Udo's brow furrowed in thought. Herr Rotz was looking at him expectantly. It was understood between the two of them that telling him to go right ahead would be the obvious answer, and it was also risky. If the man mentioned that book, it would be the end of Udo, he was sure of it, and taking that risk might not be a good idea. However, it would be even worse if he said no. Not to mention he did have other things he wanted to get done today and didn't want to stay here in this room for longer than he needed to.
He pulled out his pocket watch to check the time and said, "Very well, if that's what you want, be my guest. Have fun with him."
Udo decided to leave it at that and left.
Once outside, he walked along the sidewalk at a brisk pace. What he needed to do now, before anything else, was find a place to safely store this book. Home seemed like a decent place for now just so he wasn't carrying it around all day. He'd stop by briefly before attending to other business.
My character, Udo Drechsler, aka 'Bluthund', was a Gestapo officer, very loyal to the Fatherland, who kind of stumbled into the mess accidentally. Wrong place at the right time. He was honestly one of my favorite characters ever written and, out of every post in that thread, I figured this one would do nicely as a little glimpse into him as a character.
God, I ramble too much... Anyway, since it's older writing, I won't feel too bad for having it judged by the amazing people here haha
-------
"So," Udo's cold voice echoed in the small room, "are you willing to cooperate?" He stood leaned over the desk, staring down at his victim, drumming his fingers on the wooden surface.
This was Udo's favorite room for a number of reasons. Hardly any light illuminated the small area. The only sources were the good old light bulb dangling from the ceiling, over the desk, and the single window which was obscured by curtains. It was cramped and gave off a sense of claustrophobia, uncomfortable for anyone, and, a dark and malicious feeling, which sank to ones bone, lingered in the air. Yet he felt at home; this was a place where he carried out most of his work after all, it was only natural that he'd enjoy it.
The man sitting on the other side of the desk, with his hands bound uncomfortably behind his back with handcuffs that dug into his wrists, was nonresponsive. He kept his head lowered, staring at the floor with a vacant and unfocused gaze. Dry blood caked the man's right temple; here was a deep gash above his eyebrow, where it looked like he had either been struck with something heavy or had hit his head. More than likely the latter, as he was still conscious. He was trembling to the point where the handcuffs that bound him were rubbing against the chair.
Udo slid the book that was sitting in the center of the desk, whose title was written in Hebrew, toward the man and spoke again, "Let's try again. All I want is for you to help me translate some text from this book."
This book had been confiscated from a bookstore in the Jewish ghetto. It looked like it was an older book, and also had perhaps belonged to a collection for the Roman Numeral 'II' accompanied the title. It was supposed to have been burned, but Udo had saved it from such a fate.
The man to whom the book once belonged might have seemed off his rocker on the surface, when he was brought in for questioning, but Udo overheard him mentioning something about an evil coming to Europe, that would change the world. Since the night at the hotel, the thoughts of something greater threatening Germany had plagued his mind, almost to the point of obsession. He wanted to learn more about the world of demons and angels but was never able to get around to investigating. Then, three weeks ago this man showed up and he got his chance.
Apparently, there was more about it somewhere in that book.
Much to his dismay, the man was too caught up in his own mind, and he was unable to get a satisfactory answer from him once he was able to have a go at him. All he did was talk in circles, saying the same things over and over again. Some evil was about to sweep through not just Germany but Europe as a whole. That was it, nothing more, and it was almost infuriating. However, he had pointed him in the direction of the man who was not sitting before him.
"You're only making this harder on yourself," he said with feigned annoyance, raising his voice slightly, after he had received no response, shaking the thoughts from his mind and bringing his attention back to what was most important, getting that information. He began walked around the desk and started to pace the room. "You could have been out of here already. I'm sure your family back home is wondering where you are, so why don't you just talk? Is translating a book really too much to ask?" He looked out of the corner of his eye, searching for any signs of reaction from the man.
Yet the man remained silent and Udo was feeling his patience being tried more and more.
He continued speaking, "I'm losing my patience. That tongue of yours, perhaps I need to loosen it more." He halted his pacing, turned to face the man, and then walked over behind him, leaning in close to his ear. "What do you think? Do we need to go another round?" His eyes moved over toward the corner of the desk, and then he placed his hand on the man's shoulder, grinning as he immediately tensed.
The fear that rolled off this man was euphoric. Udo reveled in the sheer terror in the man's gaze, and, making his grip a little firmer, he decided to dig his fingers in a bit more. He hoped that would be persuasive enough. While he was generally a patient man when it came to this, he was desperate, his was beginning to surface more and more, and he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to hold it back. He wanted nothing more than to dig his fingers in so hard that he drew blood, to inflict more pain, to hear this man scream.
A knock on the door interrupted the moment, before Udo could get any more from this man, causing annoyance to replace every emotion that was there prior. He let out an irritated sigh and quickly moved to the desk, tucking the book under his coat.
"Enter," he said.
The man who entered was an older man, balding, with a seemingly permanent scowl on his face. He wasted no time getting down to business, "Well, Herr Drechsler, were you able to get anything out of him?"
Udo shook his head, "Unfortunately, I was not. He may need a few days," he looked over his shoulder to the man, who was still staring blankly at the ground. As tempting as it was to play up the interrogation, and scare the man some more, he decided against it. If he spoke up while he had company in the room it would mean the end of him.
"No? I have to admit, Herr Drechsler, that isn't the answer I was expecting. Don't tell me you've grown soft on us."
"Grown soft? I'm offended, Herr Rotz, truly. This man happens to be… unbelievably stubborn. I'm sure we'll get the location of the others eventually, he just needs a bit more time."
"I see. I don't suppose it'd hurt if I tried to get anything out of him."
Udo's brow furrowed in thought. Herr Rotz was looking at him expectantly. It was understood between the two of them that telling him to go right ahead would be the obvious answer, and it was also risky. If the man mentioned that book, it would be the end of Udo, he was sure of it, and taking that risk might not be a good idea. However, it would be even worse if he said no. Not to mention he did have other things he wanted to get done today and didn't want to stay here in this room for longer than he needed to.
He pulled out his pocket watch to check the time and said, "Very well, if that's what you want, be my guest. Have fun with him."
Udo decided to leave it at that and left.
Once outside, he walked along the sidewalk at a brisk pace. What he needed to do now, before anything else, was find a place to safely store this book. Home seemed like a decent place for now just so he wasn't carrying it around all day. He'd stop by briefly before attending to other business.