Chapter 9 – The Great Escape 

     The dim glow of the lantern hanging from the ceiling casts firm dark shadows down across Erica as she sits patiently bound to her chair. How will she escape? Breaking this flimsy wooden seat would be no problem for a witch like her, even without dedicated super strength. Her strum could incapacitate the guards and her shields could block any bullets she might face on the way out, but how many of these “Germans” are out there? On top of that she’s used to fighting the Neuroi, not other humans. She could hurt someone, she could kill someone. Even after listening to Wilhelm’s horrific orders can she bring herself to do that? She joined the military to protect people, not hurt them. It is this one lingering worry in the back of her head which is impeding her decision. 

     Sitting across from the restrained child two uniformed soldiers play a game of card’s over the table; chatting, glancing looks at the girl with obvious apprehension. Neither one of them can be much older than Erica herself, though they may not suspect it. They can’t be anything over nineteen, faces young and full of colour, yet with eyes heavy and tired. One is wrapped in a heavy scarf, Goeth; clearly weak to the cold which penetrates even here deep underground.  

      After one particularly long peak from the bundled up guard, his counterpart; Reiner waves a gloved hand in front of his face, snapping his friend away from looking at Erica. 

       “Will you stop staring at her? It’s freaking me out”. The rougher of the two men says angrily, both soldiers darting their eyes back to their deck of cards. A nervous silence descends on the small side-room again. Erica can make out the sound of typing and muffled voices outside the metal door, the rhythmic creaking of the chained lantern above, and her watchers sniffing their runny noses. Every now and then the room shakes slightly with a dull boom. Erica figures the artillery she had seen before were still firing somewhere close by. 

      “Look, Goeth; let me take your mind off her.” says the older lad as they both feign focus on their game. “I’ll tell you a story that’s been going around recently. You heard about Heydrich, yeah?”

       “Yeah… who was he again?” Goeth says, unsure of his own words. 

      “Some important guy, I don’t know. Anyway he was killed, assassinated even. They got the guys who did it; Jews!” Reiner replies. 

      “Of course it was the Jews, it’s always the Jews, when is it ever not the Jews?” Goeth trails off. This sudden conversation between her two captors piques Ericas interests. Maybe this will help her make her decision before she escapes. The young boys seem like a pliable source of knowledge, best to let them continue. 

      “Exactly! But here’s where it gets interesting. The rumours...” Reiner says with a foreboding grin. “They say that all of them; the Jews, were packed up on trains and taken to ‘special camps’.”

       “Yeah but that’s been happening for years. It’s not exactly news, Reiner.” Goeth mocks as he leans back in his chair casually. 

       “Ah but these camps are different. The rats are run down a pen into a room where… they die. All of them. They get gassed apparently!” Reiner chuckles. This sickening idea churns Ericas stomach. Surely this horrific rumour can’t be true. It seems as though Goeth agrees as he audibly scoffs at such an idea.

       “No. That’s not happening. It’s ridiculous. It’s a stupid rumour, where did you even hear it?” he questions. With a look of disappointment Reiner throws down his deck, ready to retort this accusation. Before he does however Erica makes her presence painfully aware to the two slacking guards once more. 

      “What makes you so sure it’s not true?” She asks the younger lad. With a swift motion Goeth pulls down his scarf to reply to Erica. His partner looks shocked at this sudden change in atmosphere, berating his friend quietly.

      “We’re not supposed to talk to her, dummkopf!”

      “It’ll be ok. It can’t be true because… how could the government do such a thing?” Goeth says with a smile. “I know… the Jews aren’t really ‘people’ so to say but… why should we become animals just to defeat them? We won’t give up our humanity to do that! So it can’t be true…”  

      A moment of heavy silence follows Goeths declaration. There were hints of uncertainty in his voice, of innocent rejection. It’s not that he doesn’t believe, it’s that he doesn’t want to. With a deep, preparing gulp of air Erica speaks up again.

     “You sound like a good guy.” Erica sighs. “Why are you here?”  

      Goeth looks at his friend for a second who gives a shake of his head. Ignoring this plea Goeth takes out a small crumpled and worn photograph from his jacket pocket. Straining her neck to look at the image behind her Erica sees a young woman and presumably Goeth standing together in some unrecognisable place. 

     “My girlfriend; her name is Frigga. We have a boy on the way. I’m here to keep them safe. And so is Reiner, though he won’t admit it.” Goeth laughs happily. He handles the photo with extreme care as he looks upon it before placing it back into his protective chest pouch. “Are you really a witch?” he asks suddenly in an upbeat, youthful tone, sounding so innocent and genuinely curious. 

      With a breath of the damp air Erica wordlessly summons a bright blue glowing magic circle below her, similar to those which generate upon a striker take off. The ephemeral symbol illuminates the whole room in a turquoise light, both guards recoiling in heavy shock at the miraculous, undeniable sight before them. After a short moment the circle fades, with the dim lantern returning to the only source of light in this cold cell. With looks of disbelief and slight fear the guards sit momentarily in frozen silence. 

     “T-That’s incredible! You really are a witch! Isn’t it great Reiner?” Goeth says, practically bouncing in his seat with excitement, a huge smile on his face. 

      “Enough of this Goeth! She’s too dangerous. You’ve told her too much already!” his friend replies sternly as he begins clearing away the playing cards. Not about to let the room fall into silence again Erica speaks up. 

     “What are you here to keep your girlfriend safe from Goeth?” Erica asks softly. 

      “The enemy…”   Goeth responds with a puzzled tone. “ The Jews mostly. They started this war after all. I heard that on the radio.” He ends with a disturbingly confident grin. Noticing that Reiner is upset with his constant talking; Goeth wipes his red nose and pulls up his scarf back above his mouth. 

     Minutes pass in silence. The two soldiers no longer talk. Erica sits scowling at the floor. She has no reason to believe what Reiner had said was true, however considering what Wilhelm had said about his orders earlier she couldn’t rule it out. This world she has found herself in looks in every way like her home, yet the things people say, the things she’s heard paints a picture most disturbing to the young witch. 

     Becoming bored once more of the solitude Goeth is obviously one of those people who can’t stop talking. 

      “So where did you hear that story, Reiner?” he asks.

      “Oh a friend in Warsaw. He sends other stories as well. He said last time… they cleared the ghetto orphanage. Took them to the trains, all two hundred.” Reiner says, his voice becoming noticeably quiet, as if even he realises the horror of what he just said. Goeth simply shakes his head and looks down.

     “Everyone has a friend in Poland nowadays…” he moans dismissively. 

      Upon hearing this, something snaps inside the silent Erica. Whether or not these stories are true doesn’t matter any more. The flippant, careless, inhuman disregard for life displayed to her just now is enough reason. She’s made her decision. If people get hurt, so be it. With shimmering, tear laced eyes Erica glances at her captors, a look of bestial rage across her red face. 

     “Thank you for helping me to decide.” She forces out through bared teeth. Both men look over at the bound girl with confusion and worry . “Do you want to know something about my magic? It’s called ‘strum’. I can manipulate high pressure air into a weapon…” she says angrily, causing the guards to steadily reach for their side arms. “I was going to use it to escape, but you guys have given me… a new idea, something that you deserve. If I can create high pressure air, why can’t I create low pressure air as well?” Erica concludes. The sound of both men’s pistols cocking is the last confirmation Erica needs before enacting her new plan. 

       Suddenly the witch’s body begins glowing a bright blue. Instantly both Reiner and Goeth drop to their knees, letting go of their guns which slide across the bunker floor. The rapid drop in air pressure rips the oxygen from their lungs as they choke and sputter, foam bursting from their agape mouths, eyes practically bursting from their terrified faces. They gutter and spew, writhe and seize as their muscles scream for air. It only lasts a moment before they both pass out. Erica isn’t actually sure if they’re dead or not, but at this point she doesn’t care. She has the rest of the compound to get through and Sanya to reunite with. She hopes with all her might that her friend is ok, that she will forgive her for what she did, both before and here. Ultimately however she knows this is a world she can not stay in. She must find Sanya then; the way home. 

      “Strum” Erica says softly, generating a whirlwind around and below her. The wooden chair splinters apart in the gale, easily allowing the girl to free herself and un-do the rough ropes around her wrists and ankles. She takes a prolonged look over the motionless guards laying on the muddy floor, their faces twisted into terror. Erica has never hurt someone like this before, it feels sickening. Her head is spinning, her stomach churning. Her thoughts are awash with both sorrow and intense, burning anger. She’s reminded of the loss of her homeland the Neuroi many years ago and even though she knows this “Germany” isn’t her home, it feels like it also has been lost to some incredible, inhuman evil. 

       Right now the only source of that evil she can identify is the officer Wilhelm. Steadying herself for the battle ahead she broadens her narrow shoulders, straightens her back, and becomes the stern soldier Trude would probably praise her for. The road ahead won’t be honourable, however right now Erica has a job to do. 

       By wrapping her wind magic around her leg the determined witch effortlessly kicks the steel door right off its hinges, sending it crashing across the communications bunker. Erica walks into the large cavern surrounded by a hurricane of air, kicking up dust and sending papers flying all around. Soldiers rush for their weapons and a blaze of gunfire breaks out. Instantly raising her magic shield the bunker is blinded with blue light, shimmering like sapphires in the clouds of gun smoke and dirt. It becomes almost impossible to see what’s happening. Red muzzle flashes pierce the curtain of raging fog like fireworks, the roar of rushing wind drowning out the sound of men’s screams and the cracks of shooting.  

       Erica walks calmly past desks which fly away from her, slamming into men who still dare stand against her. Most others have fled the underground tunnels, desperate to escape the Black Devil which has come for them. For Erica this is nothing now but a stroll to freedom, even a basic Neuroi offers more resistance. If only she had known earlier what these people were like, what they were willing to do then maybe she would have joined Sanya in storming the camp. 

       With a smash one of the lanterns hanging from the roof drops to the floor, exploding in a shower of flames which whip up in the gale, soon igniting the caves in a sea of fire. From this raging elemental torrent of wind and heat Erica steps into the freezing outside air. Snowflakes fall softly against her blond hair and she shivers slightly, her body still damp from her interrogation. 

       Below her stands the artillery camp. Several of the guns fire their deadly payloads towards the city in the distance, the unending siege continuing. Wilhelm had said the city was to be annihilated. How can anyone feel so little for their fellow man Erica wonders? If not for the Neuroi would her world look like this? Would Karlsland act this way? The very thought grinds Erica down as she knows that such a thing is a very real possibility. 

       From one of the many tents Erica spies Wilhelm emerge, clear and identifiable among the crowd in his slick black uniform. Erica must look like quite the target standing highlighted on the hillside, backed by the rising smoke and flames now raging behind her. She can’t hear what the SS man is saying but very soon a small platoon of soldier’s line up and quickly assemble a machine gun which they aim directly at her. It opens fire, chugging like a bestial chainsaw, throwing thousands of rounds of hot lead at the witch whose shield easily deflects each bullet. The men must be terrified to see such unknown power, to face someone who can actually defend themselves after having rained death down on innocents for far too long. Its time to end this, Erica decides as she raises one hand towards the camp, towards Wilhelm specifically. 

      “Zyklon” she says with a slight, unnerving yet sinister smile. The sky above the camp begins to swirl in a spiral, clouds descending from the heavens like a demonic, clawed finger. A funnel of spinning, ripping, roaring wind moving at incredible speeds drops directly onto the doomed base. Tents are sucked high into the air, barrels and spent shell casings thrown like pebbles, trucks and cannons raised up like toys to be smashed to pieces against the ground, the unfortunate soldiers along with them. There is no sound beyond the whoosh of air, a deep rumbling tone of dread. 

      This huge area of effect attack is not something Erica has used in combat before. Witches like her tend to specialise in one use of their power, refining that one ability until it becomes a fine tuned weapon. Improvising magic on the battlefield can be incredibly dangerous and lead to unforeseen consequences, however all witches have the ability to adapt their magic and invent new ways of using it. While it is biology which grants them their skill, it is imagination which defines how it is used. Erica just used that destructive imagination to call down the embodiment of her rage on Wilhelm and his men. 

      When the chaotic tornado departs the camp is little more than a brown stain on the ground. Ruined trees and vehicles; now little more than hunks of metal fall from the sky, landing with a crash into the frozen dirt. Some particularly heavy cannons remain, toppled over or pushed away, however with no one around to fire them this site is now a useless spot of wasteland. Such destructive power is a little unnerving to the young Karlslander. How many people did she just erase from existence? These weren’t faceless Neuroi, they were men with lives and families. Did they deserve what she just brought down upon them? 

      The distant rumble of another camp opening fire, the sound of explosions hitting the city soon tells Erica that what she did was indeed necessary. Those soldiers may not have been evil but they were sure complicit. The destruction of one firing position would not save Petersburg but Erica knows she doesn’t have enough magic remaining to use her Zyklon again any time soon. If she can find a means of transportation into the ruins she might be able to find Sanya and a place to rest for the night. Looking around she spots a shovel lying in the mud by the still burning bunker entrance. If a witch can take flight on a broom Erica wonders; why not a shovel? 

      As Erica picks up the discarded tool from the sloppy mud, melted in the heat she takes a deep breath of relief. Looking down however she can’t help but notice her Luftwaffe jacket, shining against the orange flames. The people of Petersburg surely would not be happy to see such an outfit, even if it’s technically not what these Germans are wearing. Erica quickly takes off her black jacket, removing the eagle medal which she puts in the pocket of her green shirt. Putting the woollen jacket back on, now dirty and matted after her confinement she tosses her leathers to the floor. Remembering her basic training long ago she straddles the shovels handle, the spade out behind her and hopes that this will work. She’s never heard of a witch flying on one of these before and she’s glad the others aren’t here to see her try. She’d look like an idiot if this doesn’t work.