Chapter 2: Sniff

After arriving back to his compound, Blaine sulked in the beams of the sun from his bunk bed. Sadly, his dinky stained mattress was a luxury; ordinary prisoners were stacked on crowded shelf-like structures like canned food. His mattress squeaked in protest as he rolled to his side, his thoughts strayed towards the handsome man in uniform he’d just seen, and technically hadn’t met yet.

His round face had a touch of feminine Blaine couldn’t help, but to think about. Scorching deep blue eyes… firm arms. Just picturing him made Blaine’s fingers ache, he wanted to run his hands through the soft locks of brown hair that adorned the man’s scalp.

Upon his deep thought process about what the arrival of this inspector named Kurt meant, his ears caught on to a hushed conversation across the bunkroom. Blaine used his left arm to prop himself up on the bed, preparing to have a conversation with the early rising prisoners, but saw no one who was awake. He cocked an eyebrow as his eyes scanned the room, but there was no movement besides the sleeping forms of men.

Blaine lifted himself from his bed, following the source of the whispers. The voices led him in to the entrance of the room’s supply closet. He gripped the doorknob, ready to open it, but stopped short after hearing a snippet of conversation.

“Believe me, I sharpened it myself, it’s good enough to kill.” A man’s gruff voice promised.

“Nobody noticed anything missing? Don’t they monitor all the sewing materials?” a noticeably different voice replied.

“Enoch pretended his scissors broke and took it out of the trash when the guards weren’t paying attention. We’re fine, don’t worry.”

“Okay then, tomorrow on the guards’ night shift, when that burly Nazi takes his usual cigarette break. We’ll take that first guard down, I’ll take his weapons and we’ll exit through the back fence. I think it’s a good idea if we cake mud on our uniforms, it’ll be difficult to see us at night. We’ll get messy, but I’d rather be dirty as a pig than dead.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Blaine scurried back to his mattress; he noticed the exchange was coming to an end. He dropped down, faced his back towards the closet, closed his eyelids, and pretended sleep. After a good minute he heard the closet door creak open and footsteps.

While sleeping falsely, Blaine seriously contemplated whether or not he should make this any of his concern. Blaine didn’t recognize the men’s’ voices as anyone under his command, so he was sure he wouldn’t get in trouble if they ever got caught. Blaine turned over to see if he could catch a glimpse of the men. He noted the beds they settled on and quickly closed his eyes before they could notice him.

He was right; he knew these men were under the Kapo that slept above him on his bunk bed. This didn’t mean Blaine would be completely off the hook though, angry Nazis were unpredictable in punishment, and sometimes the sins of others were paid for, not only with the death of the wrongdoers, but by unrelated individuals as well. Make no mistake, an attempt or plan of escaping was a sure way to receive a quick death sentence. If the guards favored you, they might give you two days to live, not without torture of course. This knowledge brought him to a conclusion: he would tell.

After Blaine ushered his inferiors out of their sleeping headquarters that morning he stopped by one of the guards leading the prisoners to their various jobs “Excuse me sir,” Blaine’s sudden drop out of his group’s formation caused heads to turn towards his direction. The guard Blaine spoke to had a face seeping with noticeable impatience, so he continued quickly. “could I speak to you about something I overheard?”

The guard’s face eased into mild interest.

x-x-x-x

“They were planning on killing the guard on night shift and escaping out the back fence.” Blaine repeated what he heard for the third time.

Three men sat on the wooden chairs provided in the small room, their hands tied behind their backs. One man stared blatantly at the concrete floor, while the other two sent disgusted expressions towards Blaine. The one with the blank stare sat in a laughable position, his height made his position extremely uncomfortable.

Blaine did not recognize the room the guards had brought him to, but he was sure it wasn’t made for pleasant purposes. Blaine had immediately felt the temperature drop a few degrees when he first entered. The room’s floor was coated in dark red stains; it looked like someone attempted to scrub it off, but failed miserably. Two electric prongs and a bucket of water gave a lot more insight that Blaine would’ve done better without. He did not want to make these men suffer, maybe he hadn’t thought this through.

The room fell into an awkward silence once the room’s guard went back to pacing in front of the exit. Blaine wasn’t told what he was waiting for, but he wanted to leave and soon.

Blaine’s questions were answered once the door creaked open and three men stepped in. Two guards and whom Blaine immediately recognized as Kurt, gathered in front of the suspects.

“There is no knife hidden in the compound.” One of the guards spoke.

“Of course there isn’t! We weren’t planning anything!” One of the inmates stopped glaring at Blaine to speak up.

Blaine frowned at the man’s blatant lie, “I know what I heard and who I saw. They could’ve gotten rid of it by now.”

The inmate staring at the concrete floor tilted his head up to view Blaine for the first time. Blaine couldn’t stare at him straight in the eye; his gaze drew too much guilt in Blaine’s heart. The inmate kept a steady eye on Blaine before speaking with confidence, “He’s trying to frame us.”

The two other inmates snapped their heads in their friend’s direction.

“We caught him hiding a shank in his cot the other day, he threatened to get us killed if we told anybody. He was going to use his Kapo status to get rid of us.” He lied smoothly.

One of the guards looked back to Blaine, studying his reaction. Blaine shook his head frantically, “No, no! That’s not true. I overheard them this morning, they’re lying to get out of this.”

All three guards looked unconvinced, one spoke quickly, “Fritz, go back to the compound and check Blaine’s bed.”

The lanky guard, that Blaine now knew as Fritz left out the door leaving the room back to ringing silence. Blaine was starting to sweat bullets, he didn’t think things could turn out this bad, who would’ve known they’d heed to an ordinary prisoner’s word over his? But what did he expect from Nazis? Maybe he deserved this after such a sheer burst of stupidity.

The clack of thick combat boots caught Blaine’s attention; he snapped his head towards the sound… Kurt was now in front of him. Blaine was disturbed for a second, Kurt was practically invading his personal space, inches away from his face.

“Blaine is it?” Kurt whispered breathily. His smooth fingers grazed over the Star of David on Blaine’s armband. “How did you get this?” he focused on Blaine’s face.

Blaine shot a perplexed look towards the other guards in the room, as if to say, can you believe this guy? His breathe hitched a bit once Kurt leaned in closer.

“How...” Kurt reworded “did you become…” he emphasized each word precisely “a Kapo?”

Blaine let the question hang in the air for a bit before he responded, “Loyalty.”

“Not to your own kind.” Kurt conceded.

Blaine flinched at Kurt’s remark; it was a brash, but definitely a true statement.

“Somehow the faculty here trusts you,” Kurt began to circle Blaine at a slow pace, speaking firmly, “I don’t consider that sound judgment.”

“Why not?”

“Isn’t it obvious? A scheming, backstabber like you would know.” Kurt feigned a look of pity, he stopped short, this time gripping the edge of Blaine’s Star of David, “A sex offender too?” He noted the pink coloring on Blaine’s patch.

Blaine shrugged Kurt’s fingers off before taking a step back, “I’m not a sex offender, I’m…” Blaine suddenly felt the presence of the other inmates in the room “I’m a homosexual.”

“There’s a reason it’s put under the same color Blaine, it doesn’t make a difference.” Kurt spat. His anger heightened unusually after Blaine’s confession. He whipped his head between the men tied up and Blaine before speaking to the guard, “When your friend returns, knife or not, I expect all prisoners involved to be executed promptly. In case I didn’t make it clear enough, that means Blaine too.”

The remaining guard nodded enthusiastically in response, “Yes, sir.”

Kurt left abruptly after this confirmation, taking one last glance towards Blaine before exiting out the door.

x-x-x-x

Blaine moaned in pain, his arms ached from the cuffs on his wrists and he’d barely slept on the stiff wooden chair he was bound to the entire night.

“Look, the fag’s awake.” One of the other inmates coughed.

Blaine paid him no mind, instead choosing to stare ahead. He tried his best to straighten out his limbs to get a good stretch, but the cuffs gave him little leverage.

“He’s a lucky he’s getting hung today, I bet word spread like wildfire about his preferences. He’d be beaten to a pulp daily.” the inmate snickered.

“Shut up Enoch.” The inmate sitting next to Blaine commanded firmly.

After those particular comments, not much else was said besides the occasional muttering of meaningless words. It was hard to stay conversational when you knew you’d be dangling on the gallows in a few hours and those hours lulled by in lengthy minutes.

Once news hit Blaine that indeed he was going to be hung. Blaine tried... he manipulated, he begged, he hollered. Anything to lengthen the time before his death, he was going to die and God if Blaine hadn’t imagined all the different ways he’d possibly die from Nazis, he hadn’t pictured it be a result of being a rat.

That’s after all what Blaine had come to accept about himself, he was a rat. He’d turned his back on Jews, he’d turned his back on everything his family had raised him to be, he was indirectly responsible for the deaths of dozens of Jews who’d died under his supervision. He’d spent his last dying days as scum under the boots of Nazis.

No matter how deep Blaine’s hurt from his father grew, he regretted not being able to settle things with him. He wanted to apologize for leaving, kiss his mother on her forehead, and see her look proudly at him.

Without a word, two of the escapees were uncuffed and lead out the door. Blaine began to feel extremely sick, his head swimming with too many thoughts to focus clearly. He’d forgotten the gallows could only accommodate two at a time. They were coming for him and his neighbor next; perhaps the Nazis thought it would be more effective to leave their bodies hung for a week to leave a lasting impression. Blaine had seen this done to a couple of other Kapos.

The guard at the exit shut the door before walking towards Blaine. He began to uncuff him. Blaine looked towards the guard in confusion. Wasn’t he going to wait until the other guards escorted him?

“Up.” The guard glowered down at Blaine. He grabbed Blaine’s collar and lifted him up, shoving him to the side.

Blaine stumbled onto his feet and turned towards the man he realized would lead him towards the end of his life.

He didn’t know how it happened, how fast, or when but suddenly his hand darted towards the guard’s holster and he had a pistol firmly gripped in his hand. It was too late when the guard turned swiftly to face Blaine.

Pop.

He didn’t even think about pulling the trigger, he just did.

The realization hit soon after, he stared down the dead body. It’s eyes brimming with emptiness, it wasn’t a person anymore it was a hollow vessel. The body of the first man he’d ever murdered.

He began to hyperventilate his eyes scanning around the room.

Blaine’s death row buddy stirred in his seat, “Get me out.”

Blaine nodded and held back the vomit before prying the keys from the body’s hand. He rushed towards the man tied in the chair before pausing in front of him. It hit Blaine that this was the same man who framed him, who’d gotten him in this position. Blaine took a few steps back before nearing the exit.

“They’ll kill me. Look, you were going to get me killed so I exchanged the same favor!”

Blaine stopped.

The man pleaded, “You save me, I promise I won’t cause trouble. Please.”

Blaine took a stride forward, shoving the key down the handcuff’s lock to release the man. He held his newly acquired pistol tensely, still wary that this inmate could possibly turn on him.

“Let’s go.” Blaine opened the exit warily, thinking of all the possible escape routes they could go through. He contemplated turning left or right outside of the compound, before shifting right.

“Stop. We cut the hole in the fence this way.”

Blaine didn’t question him, instead following his lead. He craned his neck upwards looking for guards on the watchtowers. There were none present; they probably snuck out to view the execution.

The two escapees scurried onward towards a barbed wire fence; behind a patch of thick grass was a cleverly hidden hole. The man twisted the edges to slip through and motioned Blaine to follow.

Blaine bent the fence sideways, kneeling on the ground. Before he could dip his head into the fence a pair of hands ripped his grip off. He whipped his head around taking in the view of a Nazi official. Kurt.

Kurt’s hand shot down to his handgun at his waist. Blaine moved, tackling Kurt to the ground, sending a plum of dirt around their forms. His pistol dropped somewhere in the process as they began to struggle for control.

“GUARDS!” Kurt yelped, kneeing Blaine directly in the groin.

“Oof!” Blaine winced, struggling to stay on top. He latched his left hand over Kurt’s mouth, frantically trying to quiet him down.

Blaine’s escape buddy nudged himself back through the fence to dive for the pistol lying next to the thrashing forms.

Kurt’s shouts for help were muffled significantly by Blaine’s hand. He threw solid punches into Blaine’s face with one hand, while attempting to loosen Blaine’s grip over his mouth.

The clank of metal snapped Blaine out of his focus, he twisted his neck to view the gun aimed directly at Kurt’s face.

This moment could’ve been used to reverse positions, but Kurt knew it was futile since the other inmate had a gun to his face. He dropped his hands, to show his submission.

Blaine kept his hand over Kurt’s mouth, “Don’t kill him. Knock him out.”

“Hell no! You know what he did to us!”

Kurt lay unmoving on the dirt, his eyes studying the escapees’ interactions. “The guards will hear the gunshot.” Blaine reasoned.

Blaine’s partner’s eyes flickered back and forth nervously, before rushing forward to Kurt. In a short deft movement he slammed the butt of his pistol into the temple of Kurt’s head, effectively rendering Kurt unconscious.

Blaine casted a worried glance as soon as Kurt went limp. He removed himself carefully before successfully escaping out of the fence’s hole, this time without any interruptions.

A wide expanse of field with absolutely no coverage besides grass awaited. If any of the watchtower guards caught a glimpse of him or his buddy, there would be rifle shots fired to kill, all camp officials made that clear. Blaine would literally be running for his life.

“Take off your shirt, our skin will blend in better. Crouch and run straight to the woods.”

Blaine nodded in agreement before slipping his Kapo coat and prison tunic off. He tied the tunic around his ankle, knowing full well he’d need at least that to brace the cold nights that were soon to come.

Blaine embraced the areas where the grass grew at it’s highest, ducking as low as possible, while rushing forward as fast as he possibly could. The grass nicked at his skin as he charged through the great lawn. His breathing was labored from the great exertion, but it was nothing compared to brutal struggle he had been going through the past months.

Blaine could see freedom within his reach; the large trees came nearer and nearer to his view. He could see his fellow inmate peaking out behind one of the trunks, already out of view from the watchtower. Before he new it, his feet sunk into a patch of soft soil and his cheek was against the bark of the nearest tree. He hopped behind trees further into the forest to assure he was out of sight before leaning over and taking huge breathes.

“We need to- ” Blaine took an exasperated breath “keep on moving.” He tumbled haphazardly through the forest, hearing the sound of his partner’s footsteps behind him. After a good ten minutes of jogging Blaine leant over and sent out a few dry heaves before puking over the rich mud beside a tree.

“Are you okay?” Blaine felt a hand on his back.

The complexion on Blaine’s face was noticeably pale, “It’s nothing.” He lied. He knew why he had puked; he had just gotten more time to comprehend the overwhelming epiphany that he had become a murderer. He stood straight and tried his best to appear healthy and continued to jog at a bit slower pace. He noted to himself that the time to stop running would be when he felt the soles of his feet starting to bleed, then continued to delve back into guilt.

x-x-x-x

“Here.” Kurt pointed to the cut portion of the barbed wire fence.

A Nazi guard followed behind Kurt, gripping the leash of a hound. The animal’s nose sniffed near the hole of the fence, before trying to jump through.

“No girl!” The Nazi guard tugged on the dog’s leash, “Sit.” He commanded. The dog obeyed sitting and wagging its tale in a hyper manner. “There’s something on the other side of that fence.” He pointed to something dark blue near fence’s hole.

Another guard shoved himself through the fence and jogged to the object, he recognized it as he came closer, “It’s a Kapo jacket. Probably Blaine’s.”

“Bring it back.” Kurt eyed the jacket curiously.

The guard returned and knelt down before the dog, letting the animal have a good trace of Blaine’s scent. The dog barked a couple of times, as if to confirm he was done sniffing.

Kurt took the jacket from the guard, silently turning his view towards the forest outside of the concentration camp. His fingers absentmindedly traced the Star of David sewn into the coat gingerly.