There was a world out there. That's what his parents told him. Everyday, they said the same thing, and it never stopped. Until he asked. He desperately asked what did that mean. He asked why they hd to wear those blue pajamas everyday, why their amount of food was so unbelievably scarce. Why was his mother and father so skinny? Why did they only stay in the small cabin along with many others. Why he could hear screams outside every single night. It drove him insane. He wanted explaination. But mostly, he wanted salvation for himself and his family.
He was a slave in the concentration camp. Born there, and apparent to meet his fate there as well. He snuck out at night, into other people quarters, plotting a revolt. But everyone was so weak, so frail...their possibilities of freedom were the slimest.
The boy thought he had an army. He thought he'd convinced everyone to come fight with him at the revolt. He walked tall and tried to look as strong as he could as he thought he led on armies upon armies of jews. He walked towards the soldiers in the exit. They snarled at him and one ran towards him. But the boy held his defiant stance. He turned into the army. The army he'd thought he'd assembled. His eyes glazed in fear as there was no man behind him. Nobody there to support him. The soldiers came upon him quicker than he could blink. He was tackled, and beaten, and shot...but for some reason, he was not killed.
The boy awoke in a nursery like place. One of the looks of which would never belong in a concentration camp. He looked up and saw a man. That devil's hooked cross was printed on his sleeve. The boy sat up in fear and backed against the wall.
"Please...please don't kill me." he said in German. The man, a general apparently, raised his hands up behind him.
"I'm not going to kill you. I need to speak with you. You're brave. Very brave. We need more soldiers like you. If you're willing to fight for us, then we're willign to give you the salvation you seek." he said. Salvation...that was the word the boy had been seeking for his whole life. He stood.
"No. I will never fight for the likes of you!" said the boy and with that, he spat on the general's shoes. He was kicked adn shot once more, until the word "salvation" was only thought that should not have been.
Author Notes: Hey! This is my first story on this website! Thanks for reading, if you are. :D