》Before I start this story, I just wanted to say that I'm not a racist, I promise! I'm part of a minority group myself. I just learned that Hitler's birthday was on April 20th, so I stopped writing all my other stories because I came up with a messed up scenario for his birthday. I plan to put this up on the 20th, and am also writing this upon Holocaust Remembrance Day. I hope that no one is offended or thinks that I support anything here, because I don't! This is just a distrubing thing I believed would be great for this story. But I am placing a disclaimer here: If you are sensitive to this kind of stuff, please do not read!! But if you aren't sensitive and decide to read at your own risk, then I hope you guys understand and end up liking it!《

April 19, 2016

"Mr. Chlodwig!"

The muscular man looked up to the source of the voice. He was in the middle of packing up his office; putting files into their cabinets and shoving binders and papers in his brown, leather briefcase. He ran his fingers through his thick blonde hair, which was slicked back and held down by gel. One strand let loose, hanging over his forehead like a limp noddle. He had a nose sharp enough to where he could probably cut a sandwich with it, and lips that resembled the inside of a rose. They looked so perfect, especially when he showed his pearly-white teeth through them in a handsome smile.

"Afternun, Ms. Miller!" he greeted his co-worker in a thick German accent.

"Leaving so soon? You still have another five hours before your scheduled flight!" She came around his desk and placed her well manicured hands upon his briefcase to curtail his early exit.

He looked up at her with those bright blue eyes that made her heart skip a beat everytime she found herself staring into them. He was giving her the look again - the playful look that pretty much said 'Get your hands off my stuff before I unintentionally seduce you.' He didn't speak for a few moments, giving her a few sweet seconds to let her eyes devour his well-chiseled face.

"Why worry, Ms. Miller? You vill miss me, heh?"

She sucked in a breath - she loved his thick accent and the fact that he occasionally jarbled up words. She couldn't explain why, but it just added on to his attractiveness.

"Well, of course I would. And not only me, but the whole office. You're essential to this business, and we hate to let you go, even when it's only for a few days." She slowly teetered her head as if considering something. "And... I will miss hearing you scream into the phone angrily in German."

Armand rolled his eyes at Ridelle, pulling his briefcase more towards him so that her hand would slide off. "In vat case, I thinks it is time to leaf." He zipped up his bag and pushed in his rolling chair, leaving his desk clear and organized.

"Oh, come on!" whined Ridelle, now grabbing the handle of his briefcase. "At least stay an hour more and hang out with the crew before you go? We're just about to start lunch break!" She gave him her best puppy eyes and batted her eyelashes.

She could be so childish sometimes... and he loved it.

Sighing in defeat, he placed his briefcase back down. "Okey. I vill stay, vut for one hour. Then, I leaf." His fingers returned to his hair, combing down the direction of the slick and creating indented patterns.

"Deal! See you in the break room in five!~" Without another word, she scurried around the corner, possibly on her way to the break room.

"Ay..." Armand sighed again, realizing what that woman just made him do. He just couldn't help but submit to those emerald eyes of hers and the way she bats those long, luscious lashes.

Damn that woman...

After making sure that his desk was in top-notch condition, he began his trip to the break room.

●○•°●

As he walked down the mall of the airport, he pulled a beige medium-sized suitcase behind him. Security was quick, and there weren't too many people traveling at this point in the Spring.

He stopped in front of a large blue board that listed all the scheduled flights. His eyes, slightly altered by older age (but not too old), squinted as he tried to find his flight amongst all the small text.

Anchorage, Alaska - Alaska Airlines  7:15  On Time

Newark, New Jersey - Southeastern  5:40 Delayed

Miami, Florida - Southeastern  5:55 Delayed

Albany, New York - United  4:35 On Time

He nearly gave up on finding his flight because of how hurt his eyes were from reading the text, but then he read:

Cologne, Germany -  Lufthansa  4:25 On Time

Armand gave a sigh of relief as he entered his gate. Good, so his flight was on time, and he was on time... by half an hour.

One thing he didn't like about airports was that you couldn't leave and come back without going through a buttload of security again. He could understand why, but it was killer to stay in one place for what feels like an eternity!

Ding!

His phone went off in his pocket just as he found a seat to sit down in where no one would bother him. He pulled out his Samsung Galaxy and looked in his notifications. The first bar said:

Riddler
Hope you're doing okay and not missing us too much!
3:48 p.m.

Armand smiled slightly and began to tap on his screen. This could be one way to waste time waiting for an airplane.

Army's Hand
Of course not, the quiet here is nice
R√ 3:49 p.m

Riddler
You're so mean!! You know you love us, though. And even if you say you don't, I'll know you're lying.
3:49 p.m.

Army's Hand
I hate you guys.
R√ 3:49 p.m

Riddlers
Lies, lies, and more lies.
3:50 p.m.

Army's Hand
Coming from Joker.
R√ 3:53

Riddler
Quit calling me that! You're just mad because my name is better.
3:54 p.m.

Army's Hand
Who the Hell calls themself Riddler? Your name may be Ridelle, but that is awful.
R√ 3:55 p.m.

Riddler
Like Army's Hand is any better? Cringey!
3:55 p.m.

Army's Hand
It gives the message that I carry the army to and from battle, I'm 'essential' as you say.
R√ 3:56 p.m.

Riddler
With a name like that, you oughtta be kicked out the army. Oh, wait, you aren't even in the army.
3:57 p.m.

Army's Hand
Whatever. At least my name isn't Joker.
R√ 3:57 p.m.

Riddler
Stop that!!
3:58 p.m.

And so back and forth they went, teasing each other like high school kids. Before long, texting turned into calling, and he easily kicked back and relaxed to her voice. With her to keep him company, the time flew by.

"Do you nut haf any better vay to vaste your time than talk to me?" He heard her giggle on the other end.

"With an accent as strong as yours, I wouldn't rather be doing anything else."

He found himself smiling like a goof, his teeth lightly pinching the tip of his tongue in amusement. "Flirtacious as alvays, are you nut, Ms. Miller?"

"Only with you.~"

There was a moment of silence in the line, and he sat there in his seat, a thick brow arched upon his forehead. Of course, he knew Ridelle to be an out-going, care-free woman, so her flirtacious attitudes were no surprise. Though if she was only flirtacious to him...

Silly him! Thinking that Ridelle actually wanted him! She was the joking type after all, she probably didn't mean what she said at all.

But then again - the two were quite close, and she did tend to be flirty with him any chance she got. There was a small chance...

"Come again?"

"Uh-... J-just joking, haha!"

He raised his other brow at her response. When Ridelle lied, it was easy to tell, and this just so happened to be one of those times.

"Ms. Miller-..."

"Gate 45 ready for departure. Gate 45 ready for departure."

Armand moved his phone from his ear to check the time - it was 4:15.

"I haf to leaf now," he explained to the woman on the other end, placing the phone back to his ear. "Ve vill talk later."

"Oh," she replied with the most disappointed tone he's ever heard. "Okay... Well, I hope you get there safely. Have a nice flight."

"I vill." He grabbed the handle of the suitcase and arose from his seat, approaching the long, yet organized line forming by the wall. He pulled out his ticket and found his place in line according to the number on the ticket. "Goodbye, Mrs. Ridelle."

"See you later, Mr. Chlodwig."

He hung up and moved along with the line to board the plane.

April 20, 2016

Armand was awoken by a sudden jolt. His eyes flickered open to see a bunch of tiny neon lights in the sky. Turning his head, he saw another person sitting in a chair, a mask over his face, presumably asleep. He turned his head to the other side and saw a second person, sitting comfortably beside him, a thick book laid open in their lap.

He then fully awoke, and he looked all around to realize that he was surrounded by nearly a hundred people seated in rows.

Oh yeah, that's right. He's on a plane.

Looking out the window, he saw that it was pitch black out. The plane was heavily rattling, and the lights were slowly coming back on. He could see the lights of the building nearby, and he could tell that they had just landed.

His whole entire body felt sore - well, that's what happens when you fall asleep on a plane for nearly nine hours.

Once the plane had stopped, the pilot allowed the passengers to get up and get their belongings. It wasn't long until Armand departed with his stuff and entered the airport of Cologne, Germany.

Checking his phone, he saw that it was about 5 A.M. Jet lag was going to hit him hard.

"Guten Morgen!"

He looked up to see an attendant standing right next to the exit, smiling excitedly at him. He could tell by the overly cordial greeting that the attendant knew why he was there in Cologne, Germany, on April 20th.

"Guten Morgen!" he replied, already feeling right at home with people who spoke his language.

He flicked out his phone and punched in the number of the woman he came to know and love for years on the American job.

"Hallo?"

"Efen ven speaking in Deutsch, your accent is awfel."

A laugh erupted on the other end, and he couldn't help but begin to laugh himself.

"Yeah, well even when speaking in English, your accent is 'awfel.'"

Armand rolled his eyes and walked down a long hallway on his way to security. "I haf landed safely. I just vanted you to know."

"Aww, how sweet of you... Well, I am glad that you made it home safe and sound! You should take pictures and videos for me, I would love to see what Germany is like!"

Armand paused and pondered about this request. Of course, he would not be able to do it for the next few days - she would not like the conditions of April 20th and 21st. Maybe after the fact, he'll snap some scenery, some everyday people, some food...

"I vould fery much ve happy to do that for you." He could hear her squeal in delight on the other end. "I swear, you may look like a grown voman on zee outside, vut you like a child on inside."

"Hey! I can be mature!" He didn't have to see her, but he already knew that she was making pouting faces behind the screen.

"Mhm, sure. I must go now. My bags are going to ve checked."

"Aww... okay, I guess I'll talk to you later then."

"Tcshüss, Ms. Miller."

"Er... Shoosh, Mr. Chlodwig."

●°•○●

"Wie war dein Flug, Bruder?"

Armand looked over to the muscular man sitting beside him, his stony hands gripped tightly on a leather steering wheel. He had dirty blonde hair and emerald green eyes that shimmered with excitement. He was the brother of Armand, and his name was Alphonse.

He had not seen his brother in a year, and it was always great to see him, especially on a day like April 20th.

Alphonse had just asked his brother how his flight was, for he wanted to make small talk with his only sibling, and get to know every detail about his year away.

Armand scratched the back of his head and gave a goofy smile. "Langweilig." Boring.

Alphonse laughed. "Nun, keine Sorgen! Wir werden heute Spaß haben!" Well, no worries. We will have fun today!

"Verdammt richtig, werden wir." Damn right, we will.

The two siblings caught up with each other's lives as the car strolled through the busy streets of Cologne, which were more busy than usual in the mornings. People were bustling around, and there were storekeepers already opening business, customers flying in at surprising rates.

Alphonse and Armand stopped at one store, which read 'Arische Waren' on the front in big bold letters. Approaching the store, there was a large white sign with red text that beamed out 'Nur arische Abstammung !!' Aryan descent only.

The brothers made their way into the store - they didn't stay for long. They knew exactly what they were looking for.

Within five minutes, they appeared at the counter, each carrying two bottles full of a purplish liquid. It looked like wine, but the label read 'Schmutzreiniger - Vernichtung der Unreinheit seit 1945!' Each bottle cost a whopping 50€, but the brothers were rich from years of hard work in their occupations.

The cashier looked up at them with a bright smile and said, 'Heute regieren die Arier wieder Deutschland.' Today, the Aryans rule Germany again.

The brothers nodded in agreement and took the bottles of 'wine' back to the car, where they drove their happy selves back to Alphonse's house. Though his brother was rich, he did not live in a mansion. But it was a luxurious home nonetheless, and only housing one man, for Alphonse was not married. It wasn't hard to get settled in.

At this point, it was 9 a.m.

●°•○●

Every now and then, a train of black cars would barrel down the road, nearly running over pedestrians in the process. It was almost time for the big event - but people were so impatient to start, that they had already begun to scream at each other in the streets. The suspense was killer, and the siblings were just waiting for the chance for themselves to be a part of the chaos as well.

At around noon, they stepped outside of their house, almost immediately greeted by large red flags with black swastikas in their centers. They had recently been hoisted upon their poles. Down the road, other homeowners were beginning to emerge, all holding some flag or poster of some sort. It almost seemed as if they were preparing to start a riot.

Then it started.

The black cars that constantly zoomed down the street every ten minutes or so were now creeping slowly over the asphalt. They all stayed in a single file line, inching down the road like panthers stalking down their prey.

Then the crowd of people erupted in a roar, flags and posters being wavered wildly in the air.

Following not too far behind the cars were a wave of people. They were organized in rows that were streetwide, an armed officer on either side of every five rows. They stepped in time to the officers, who screamed, "links, rechts!" Left, right! For the first set of five rows were people in wheelchairs, crutches, had prosthetic limbs or even missing limbs. Then the next two sets after them were men and women who wore pink triangles on the sleeves of their clothing. The next three sets were of people that were somehow similar to one another - they wore raggier clothing than anyone else . Then finally, the biggest and most important group of them all: the ones who proudly wore the yellow star of David.

They received the most attention from the crowd, for they were the most targeted in all of Germany. People screamed out profanities and chants, becoming more riled with each step that the marchers took.

At the end of the marching line was another row of armed officers, their eyes never leaving the victims that stepped in time to their clunking boots.

Everyone knew where they were going next.

If April 20th could be compared to an object, it would be compared to the Tablet of Ahkmenrah from Night At the Museum.

And Auschwitz was surely a museum.

After the marching victims had passed, the street calmed down and homeowners returned to the comfort of their homes, possibly to rest after all the excitement.

For Armand and Alphonse, they stood there in shock, for they didn't remember April 20th being celebrated in this manner. How much has changed since last year?

The street soon emptied, and they themselves soon returned to their household, but they were still in awe, for they had just watched a recreation of the Death March.

●°•○●

Alphonse slaved over the kitchen while Armand began to set up the table. He wanted to prepare a great meal for the two since today was a special day for them, and if the rest of Germany wanted to ruin it by showing off their recreations of the Holocaust, then they didn't need the rest of Germany to give them the day that they wanted. They would give it to themselves, for they were brothers.

Armand's phone began to ring. He picked it up and glared at the screen for a moment before softening up and happily answering.

"Hallo?"

"Why are you still awake? Go to sleep." Ridelle's slightly groggy voice came through at a low volume, indicating that she had called him at late hours of the night.

"Vhy I am still awake? You are zee one who has called, are you nut?"

"Yeah, but... I didn't expect you to actually answer."

"Ridelle, Ridelle... I vill nefer undastand you. Zee sun is just setting, vut I know ofer zhere is late. You are zee one who needs sleep." Behind the screen, he could almost hear her smile.

"Mmmm... don't wanna. Just thought you should know that the office is in turmoil without you."

Armand laughed aloud and sat down in a comfortable chair. "Haha!! You vill nut haf to worry long. I shall return in a few days."

"Okay... you still haven't sent any pictures yet."

Armand rolled his eyes. "Fine! After zhis call, I vill take one picture of me and my brother."

"Ooohhh... I didn't know you had a brother!"

"Vell... now you do."

Somewhere in the kitchen, Alphonse called out, "Armand!"

"Ja?"

Alphonse didnt respond after that, which slightly annoyed him. He didn't like when people did that.

"Was that him?" Ridelle asked excitedly, not seeming very sleepy anymore. "He sounds hot!"

Armand tensed up in slight agitation. "Ridelle! I am right here!" She giggled childishly, only making him more agitated.

"Protective brother, aren't ya?"

"I am nut protective over him, I do nut want you to be flirtacious vith other men."

"Wait... what do you mean by other men?"

Armand realized his mistake and bit his tongue. He somewhat knew what he had meant by what he said, but not exactly understanding it. There was no reason to not want her to be flirty with other men. But then again, he found that he slightly fancied her, and there was a small chance that she had something for him, too.

With that in mind, he found himself saying, "Allow me to just say... I like to haf zee fun side of you all to myself sometimes."

A suspenseful pause took its place in the call before he heard a small laugh. It appeased his mind to hear her say, "I could say something similar about you as well."

It was like a weight had lifted off of his shoulders. There was just something about knowing that the person you liked had feelings for you, too.

"You should rest now, Ridelle. You haf work."

"Yeah..." Almost as if on cue, she released a big yawn. "Call me when something interesting happens, I'm getting bored around here. And don't forget those pictures!"

"I von't, I promise. Gute Nacht, Ms. Miller."

"Uhm... Glute knocked...? Mr. Chlodwig."

He laughed as he hung up the phone. He made his way back into the kitchen, where the smell of Bratwurst and Schnitzels hit his nostrils hard.

"Komm, nimm ein Foto, Alphonse." Come take a photo, Alphonse.

"Warum?" Why?

"Für Erinnerungen." For memories.

Alphonse shook his head and placed his arm around Armand, who held up his phone, camera pointed towards them. They put on their goofiest smiles and snapped a photo worth remembering.

●°•○●

Night had just fallen, and the table was set. The food was hot, and the long table in the dining room that was meant for a family of eight hosted a feast for not only their mouths, but for their eyes and noses, too.

Just as they were about to sit down and chow down, a shout rang out from outside of their house. They looked at each other for a moment to confirm that the other had heard it, then they both sprang into action.

The door of the house was swung open just in time to catch movements in the darkness. Three figures zoomed by buildings on the opposite side of the street, garments wavering in the wind.

"Schnell!" Alphonse heard himself shouting. "Komm rein, bevor sie dich fangen!" Quickly, come in, before they catch you!

In response, the figures paused, but only for a split second, then came barreling into the brothers' house. The door was slammed right behind them. Armand went over to a window and slightly parted the blinds. Just a few moments later, a pair of officers ran by on foot weilding machine guns.

Talk about a close call...

"Danke, danke!!"

Armand turned towards the victims and did a quick assessment of them - Two of them were male and one was female. All three of them were wearing the yellow star of David on their clothes, which were somewhat dirty and tattered. It then occured to him that they had just saved three Jews from being exterminated by the officers.

"Komm fest mit uns, bleib die Nacht." Come feast with us, stay the night. It was the best thing he could offer to them at the moment - if he let them back out anytime soon, someone else would get to them.

"Ja Dankeschön," they gracefully accepted the offer.

Alphonse led their guests to the dining room table, where they were amazed by the prepared feast before them. Everyone was seated, except for Armand who went to fetch the beverages.

He returned with both of his hands full, one carrying a pitcher of water and the other carrying a bottle.

He placed the pitcher closest to him and his brother, who would be sitting right next to each other, and went around the table, filling up everyone's glass with wine - except for Armand and Alphonse. When the Jews asked, they explained that they did not drink alcoholic beverages, and proceeded to fill their own cups with water.

Before anyone could dig into the food, they made a toast to their safety and health.

Then they drank.

The glasses clanked against the table and forks clinked against the plates. Armand couldn't help but look at his guests as they licked at their wine-stained lips, devouring the meal before them.

Poor fools...

A fork hit the ground as its owner dropped it. The hand responsible for releasing the utensil then latched on to the throat of whoever it belonged to. They began to cough and gag, like they had gotten something lodged in their throat.

Almost like a chain reaction, two more forks left the hands of their owners, and the room was filled with coughs and gags.

The Chlodwig brothers just sat tight, continuing to chew their food as they watched the little ordeal before them. They watched as the faces that were once lit up with delight were now turning purple, some red.

One Jew fell to the ground and stayed there.

The others continued to make nasty noises, grabbing at whatever they could, like it would help them.

Another one fell not too far from the other and laid still.

The female stood, hunched over the table as she tried to cough out the non-existent barrier in her throat. Her wild, brown eyes looked up desperately to Armand for help, but found him blankly staring at her. He took up his water like this was normal and sipped at it, swishing it around in its glass. Then her eyes fell upon Alphonse, who took up some of his Schnitzels and chewed thoroughly, like he was trying to decide if he put enough salt or not.

That's when she realized she had been played for a fool. But it was too late.

The last one fell onto the table, but easily slid off, taking the tablecloth with her.

The brothers had both just in time saved their plates of food and cups of water. Setting them back onto the clothless table, they continued to dig into their food, like it was the best thing they have ever eaten.

Armand looked up to his brother and said, "Ihre verbrannte Wurst ist wahrscheinlich, was sie getötet hat." Your burnt sausage is probably what killed them.

"Fick dich." F**k you.

Armand was not very happy about today; unlike the last times they had performed this tradition, it was almost like the purge, and they could just rampage any unpure home that they wanted. They could beat, kill, and torture as much as they wanted. Now, they didn't even get to do that anymore. The government got those special priveleges. How dare they hold this special event without letting him in on the fun.

He peered down at the chaos that was the floor, scattered with broken glass, uneaten food, fresh wine, and ragged corpses. Upon draining his glass of water, he went for the pitcher. His eyes gazed over the wine and read its label, still believing its every word.

'Schmutzreiniger - Vernichtung der Unreinheit seit 1945!'

'Filth Cleanser - Exterminating the unpure since 1945!'

In small text near the bottom, he read:

'Nicht für arischen Konsum'

'Not for Aryan consumption'

April 25, 2016

"DU BIST DUMM! NIEMALS DIESES UNTERNEHMEN IMMER WIEDER ANRUFEN!!"

Armand slammed the phone down into the desk, his face beet red. Dammit, this job was stressful...

"I will never get over hearing you scream angrily in the phone in German."

He looked up in surprise to see Ridelle hovering close behind him. Her red hair was put up in a messy bun, but little curly wisps escaped and caressed the outline of her face. Just by looking at her, he could feel his anger melting away.

"People are stupid, is all I haf to say." He began to pack up his things, for the day was just about over. He hated when the last call was the call that makes him angry - the only perk is that he can scream angrily at the caller in German and they wouldn't understand squat that he was saying, so they couldn't get him in trouble for saying something offensive.

"The wonderful world we live in, huh?" She sat upon his desk, crossing one leg over the other. "But admit it - you're glad to be back."

He shrugged and zipped up his breifcase. "Meh."

Ridelle playfully punched his shoulder. "Meanie!!"

He smiled mischievously before reaching for a file cabinet just by her legs to make sure all files were where they were supposed to be.

Then a glint from her skirt caught his eye.

He looked up, seeing that her skirt was slightly pulled up because of her sitting position, and she was a little more elevated than he. He could see much more of her legs than he usually was able to. Her left leg had glistening bits of metal sticking out of it.

Underneath her skirt, Ridelle had been hiding a prosthetic leg.

"Oh, yeah, my leg..." she said when she noticed him staring. "I lost it in a car accident about ten years ago."

Armand stayed silent for a few moments, as if thinking about this. He didn't know how to react to the fact that the girl he liked was handicapped.

"Oh... I am fery sorry to hear zhat." He stared at the leg with a look like he had never seen one before.

"Don't worry about it. I'm used to this thing."

The blonde man proceeded to look into the file cabinet he had been intending to look at, flicking through the hundreds of tabs within. Satisfied, he closed the cabinet and stood up. But instead of leaving, he turned to the child-like woman beside him and asked, "Do you like vine?"

She nodded her head. "I drink all kinds of wine, actually."

He bit his lip in that sexy, pensive way she knew him for. "How vould you like to come to Deutschland vith me next year?"

Her eyes went wide and her body stood erect. "Are you being serious??"

"I am really."

Ridelle hopped off the desk and threw her arms around Armand. "Omg, I would love to!!"

He smiled and hugged her back. "I am looking forward to zhat, zhen."

He allowed his mind to drift away to prosthetic legs, wine, and April 20th.

》Holy crap, it took long enough to write this! I hope you guys like it. Again, I am not promoting anything, I swear. I just kind of liked the situation, and I'm also learning about the Holocaust in English class, so this thought was fresh on my mind for a while. But hey, you learned some German. You're welcome!《