Chapter 7 – The Interrogation  

       Turning to look around Erica sees a man sitting in a wooden chair, his feet up on a table looking quite relaxed as he puts down the book he was reading. 

        “You men can leave. Here let me help you.” he says as he gets up and removes Ericas gag, the bucket wielding soldiers leaving the dank chamber as he does so. Once the moist cloth is out of her mouth the young Karlslander spits several times, clearing away the terrible aftertaste. 

       “Yuck!” she moans with strands of saliva streaming down her lips . Somehow that rag tasted worse than Minnas cooking.  

      “Oh I am sorry.” the strange man mocks sarcastically back at her. Now that he’s closer and out of the gloom Erica can make out more of his features. He’s a tall man, wearing a fancy black uniform, well tailored and with a cap adorned with a polished silver skull. On his shoulder sits the insignia of twin lightning bolts. With a powerful stride he moves the chair he was sitting on to in front of the bound Erica, taking a seat to greet her at eye level. 

       “Maybe you can help me, I’m a little confused.” he says while un-buttoning his holster in an attempt at intimidation. “Who are you and what are you doing in my camp?” After a brief moment of patient, silent observation Erica finally speaks up.

      “Erica Hartmann, eighteen, Oberleutnant.” She lists off before reciting her military service number. The room again falls silent, a tense pride-filled aura emanating from both parties of this strange interrogation. Eventually the suited man gives a small chuckle. 

       “Ha. Is this a game to you ‘Oberleutnant’?” he says as he reaches out to brush Ericas sopping hair from her eyes. 

       “Don’t touch me!” Erica threatens before receiving a sudden back-handed slap across her small face. The shock of this attack wets her eyes, reddens her cheek, but doesn’t crack her stern exterior. She wants to remain calm, to appear fearless in the presence of her captor, so she switches on her infamous adolescent charm. 

       “I almost felt that. You think you can treat a witch this way and get away with it?” she mocks, giving the officer a large, childish grin. She doesn’t have to take this abuse, she’s confident that one blast of magic could rip the roof off this bunker, however then where would she be? She has so many questions she wants to ask, so for now playing along might be the best course of action. Suddenly the man gets up dramatically with a gleeful smile across his face. 

       “Ah! Now we are getting somewhere! You see I’ve heard stories, legends from these backwards Russians of old women, of hags casting magic spells. But you… you can actually do such things. How is this?” he asks as he circles around Erica who follows him with her head like a hawk. 

       “You’ve never seen a witch before have you?” she questions back. 

       “No I haven’t, and neither have my men who are quite unnerved by you and your friend-” the officer speaks, taking a leaning rest against a table. “…Your friend who abandoned you by the way; sorry about that.” He jokes cruelly. A feeling of guilt and disappointment rolls over Erica. She’s seen her friends do some stupid things before; Minna attacking a hive alone, Eila refusing to use a shield, even she herself could be quite dumb sometimes, but she never expected Sanya to act so recklessly. Then again how could she blame her if she thought her home was in danger? That doesn’t matter for now however. Either she will go to Sanya or Sanya will come back for her. Without letting this hint of weakness show, Erica looks up at the waiting officer.

       “We’ll both get out of here you know?” Ericas answer summons a deep scoff as her questioner snorts a deep breath. 

       “No. No you won’t. You see I’ve already sent word of your capture to Berlin.” The officer remarks with a smug superiority.   

       “In that case can I ask you some questions?” Erica chuckles, ignoring his mocking dismissal. To this he appears quite taken aback, replying quickly.  

      “Go ahead. This ought to be entertaining.” he smirks.  

      “Lets start with who are you, where am I and why are you attacking Saint Petersburg?” Erica asks confidently. The strange man gives her a look of puzzled uncertainty, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips before answering. 

      “I am Waffen SS Gruppenfuhrer Wilhelm Siegfried. You are in my frontline artillery emplacement and we are attacking ‘Saint Petersburg’ as you say; to annihilate the Soviet scum who call it home.” He responds. Erica can’t help but find it strange that these soldiers seem to just be sitting in place and attacking the city from afar; Karlsland wouldn’t use such tactics. 

       “How come you haven’t captured the city yet?” Erica asks inquisitively. 

       “Why would we want to do that? It’s a den of Bolshevik Jewry. Leningrad is to be wiped off the map, its people and all.” Wilhelm responds in an uncaring, emotionless manner which disturbs the witch deeply. 

       “You’re ok with that? Destroying a whole city!?” she asks, shocked at his murderous statement. 

      “Those are my orders, why would I question them?” the stern officer remarks with not a single hint of compassion in his deep voice. “After the defeat of Soviet Russia there can be no interest in the continued existence of this urban centre. Encircle the city and level it to the ground by means of artillery bombardment. Requests for surrender shall be denied, feeding the city is not our problem. These are my orders. Now answer me this; why do you call it Saint Petersburg? The Reds haven’t called it that in years.” Wilhelm ponders, his words having stunned Erica into silence; it wasn’t what she was expecting. She can’t fathom such brutality, such inhuman, senseless cruelty. Then a terrible spark ignites inside her young head – This can’t be the world she knows, somehow she and Sanya have been transported to a place different from their home. These men really weren’t Karlslanders and that isn’t Saint Petersburg being bombed. There are no Neuroi here; these men are fighting… other humans! 

      Erica can’t help but gulp in nervous worry at her thoughts. How on earth will they get home? Can they even get home!? Wilhelm notices the sudden change in his prisoner and moves to look her in the face, suspicious of her odd behaviour. 

       “Having trouble?” he asks in a fake tone of caring concern. 

       “I think I’ve ended up somewhere I shouldn’t be.” Erica answers with a noticeable shake in her voice, a mild trembling in her hands. 

       “Yes I think so.” Officer Wilhelm whispers as he again goes to move Ericas damp hair from her face, this time receiving no protest from the girl at his fingertips. The bunker descends into an uneasy quiet once more. Wilhelm can feel Ericas increased breathing on his stubble covered cheeks, her intermittent sniffling from the water still covering her body being the only sound of note. For Erica it feels like all her strength has suddenly vanished, as if the task ahead is so insurmountable, the horror of this world having zapped all of her focus away. 

      “The more I look the more I find you strange. You don’t look like a Slav, and you’re certainly not a Jew. With your blond hair, your blue eyes why… you’re the image of the perfect Aryan… It makes me wonder…” Wilhelm says softly with his words trailing off into deep thought. After a moment of uncomfortable awkwardness he gazes down at Erica with a crazed look of desire. “Your magic; teach it to me.” He demands sternly. 

      Instantly Erica snaps out of her daze and bursts into a booming fit of laughter. She rocks back and forth in her chair as Wilhelm pulls out his sidearm and presses the barrel to Ericas forehead. Unfazed she subdues her laughter to respond to her captor’s ridiculous request. 

       “Even if I wanted to, I can’t. Magic is something you’re born with, it can’t be taught, idiot.” She says through bouts of chuckling hysterics. Clearly unmoved by his threats of violence Wilhelm backs off from Erica with a heavy scowl, an intense look of disappointed anger across his face. 

       “You’re telling me it’s your genes that give you such power?” he asks grimly as he puts his weapon away. Erica glances up at him, eyes watering from her outburst.

       “Afraid so Siegfried.” She mocks. With a defeated sigh Wilhelm angrily gags the infuriating girl once again, despite her protests in the face of its awful taste. After securing her bonds her tormentor opens the heavy metal door to exit the dark cell, calling for some guards to come and keep an eye on the witch. Outside Erica can see a large room full of solders manning radio equipment, charting positions on maps and writing down orders. Maybe, she could contact Sanya after she escapes? Escape she will, she just has to make a plan of attack.