Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   standard categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools

Rebecca (standard:drama, 1542 words)
Author: Michael Lance KerstingAdded: Sep 29 2012Views/Reads: 1804/959Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
When she saw him, pictures of the atrocities of the concentration camp came back.

Rebecca (Strictly for adults ) 

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil,  1960. 

Rebecca couldn't believe her eyes, after all these years, he was still
alive. A shudder ran through her and a series of thoughts raced through 
her mind. Instinctively, she touched the prison ID number that was 
tattooed across her inner wrist. It was Dr.Gehbert she saw, the 
Commandant of the women's prison camp in Dachau. Their eyes met a 
second, “Did he recognize me?” she wondered. Stunned, she got up and 
left the café'. She raced across to the parking lot and entered her 
car. Switching on the ignition, she still couldn't believe it. It was 
thirty years ago, yet, she remembered. It all came back in a flash as 
if it were only yesterday. “..The long days of forced labor in 
dangerous conditions, the starvation, beatings and torture, medical 
experiments, standing at roll call for hours, in all weather conditions 
, random killings, and other atrocities. The “Mad Doctor” they called 
him. And he was given a free hand over a range of insanities, which 
were applied elsewhere as well - The classification of skeletons of men 
and women of various nationalities and races; heads severed and stored, 
sterilizations, how long people can live on salt water, hot and cold 
immersions, freezing, innumerable tests to see how people could die 
from various causes, injected with poisons or subjected to deadly 
diseases, complex and impossible forms of bone and skin grafts, 
demented attempts to reshape the human anatomy; without the benefits of 
pain killers or sanitary safeguards and the list can go on and on of 
the atrocities committed in the camp where some women had their 
clitoris removed, some would be inseminated artificially with a variety 
of semen and as pregnancy progressed, cut open for examination or to 
see how or when an abortion would be performed, These abortions 
executed throughout the nine month period cycle, the rare of success 
nearly zero, the women dying like flies in terrible pain from the 
butchery also flashes of the train loads of deportees arriving in the 
camp entered her mind where a selection was made : on one side, the 
fit, the workers ; on the other the unfit. Those too old, too young, 
too weak or too sick would be unproductive in the workshops. The old 
were selected from the strong and the ways in which those selected to 
die were deceived into a false security, they were led into so called 
bath halls and gassed then to the crematories. Dead they had a certain 
value to the authorities: their hair could be sold, some victims might 
have gold teeth, spectacles, false teeth, little things of value that 
were theirs as long as they lived. These were gathered and stored 
before they were sent to the crematories As she reflected on the 
atrocities in the camp, a bitter feeling of hatred well up inside of 
her and all because of the man she had just seen, whom she thought had 
died in the aftermath of the defeat-the dreaded Dr Gehbert. She drove 
home in a foggy state of mind and went immediately to the bathroom and 
vomited. The next day she drove to the café, found a table by the 
window and sat down after ordering a cup of coffee at the counter. The 
place was filling with customers. After a few minutes, sipping her 
coffee, she saw him and a cold shiver ran down her spine. He was 
bidding a customer goodbye. She got up, slipped on her dark shades and 
walked quickly across the street. She wore a long sleeve blouse to hide 
the  prisoners' ID number. She stopped in front of the shop. He saw her 
looking at the show window and came outside. “Hello there,” he said 
pleasantly.”Could I interest you in some flowers today?” “ It was him 
alright” She thought,”Even down to the long scar that ran down the side 
of his right cheek, she remembered , older, thinner, but him 
alright.”... ”Sure, please do.”She said quietly. He invited her in and 
stood in front of some orchids. “Well, this here is one of my 
favourites.” he began ... “ The bastard !” she thought bitterly 
remembering his cruelty. After buying some flowers, she invited him for 
tea the next day and gave him her address. He thanked her graciously 
and said,”It should be easy to find” and bid her farewell. The next 
day, the buzzer rang at precisely four ‘o clock. She answered it. There 
stood on the doorstep the old Florist, all dressed up in a double 
breasted brown suit. “ Please come in, Mr Rossi..” Roxanne said 
pleasantly. The old man carried a bouquet of flowers in his gnarled 
hands. “This is for you .” the old man said with a smile.”And please 
call me Frank.” “Why, thank you, Frank.” She said pleasantly , taking 
the bouquet. “They are beautiful, here, take off your coat and make 
yourself comfortable. Would you like some tea?” “That would be fine, 
thank you.” He replied. He did and sat down on a sofa that was in front 
of a big TV. Rebecca went into the kitchen, ‘ Nice place you got here.” 
he commented, looking around. ‘Well I try” replied Rebecca from the 

Click here to read the rest of this story (53 more lines)

Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Michael Lance Kersting has 62 active stories on this site.
Profile for Michael Lance Kersting, incl. all stories
Due to abuse, voting is disabled.

stories in "drama"   |   all stories by "Michael Lance Kersting"  

Nice Stories @, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2014 - Artware Internet Consultancy BV