War On The Heart

"Have you ever killed someone?" Zac asked.

"I don't have the stomach to want to but yeah, when people are watching and I am forced."

Zac nodded. He didn't particularly like that answer but he understood. If he was in that situation he would do it too.

Quincy washed himself and got out, drying off before picking Zac up an him before quickly sneaking back to his room.

Zac sat on the edge of the bed.
"I need to hide now?"

"In a minute." He crept out, coming back with a good bit of food for the small boy.
"Eat." He began getting dressed.

"Thank you." He murmured before devouring the food Quincy had brought him.

Quincy was all dressed in his suit, nazi band over his arm, boots on, gun in hand as he made sure he looked ready in the mirror.
"Alright...hide."

Zac nodded and wandered around the room, looking for a hiding place. HE puled back a vent cover and crawled in it a few feet back and put the cover back on.

Quincy smiled, nodding and bending down, pressing his lips to the vent.
"Ill be home later, dont let anyone find you."

"Okay, goodbye..." He sat back in the vent silently.

Quincy left, he was gone all day, coming home bloody and tired he plopped down on the bed and made sure Zac didn't come out, not until he said it was okay.

And Zac didn't. He heard someone and was scared. He silently crept farther back in the vent.

was maybe twenty minutes before Quincy kicked off his boots and sighed.
"Zac, come on out of there."
The door was locked, windows covered.

Zac let out a sigh of relief. It was only Quincy. He slowly edged out of the vent, peeking to make sure it really was Quincy before standing and covering the vent back up.

Quincy had taken off the bloodied suit and boots, sitting there and giving a tired smile.
"Hey."

"Busy day?" Zac sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed

"Yeah, I had to go help out at Auschwitz's"
A death camp...

Zac shuddered and nodded.
Auschwitz was every Jew's biggest fear. Any death camp was...

Quincy had been helping pick out who went where, who was gasses on arrival and who was picked out to be a worker.

Zac's day had been spent praying in that tiny vent...

"Can I ask you something?"
He had been presented with a man today, big blue eyes and blond hair, skinny and sickly, tired and broken....
With the last name of McGuire.
And he had sent him off to the gas chamber.

"Of course?" Zac tilted his head to the side.

"What did your mother look like." He was scared of the answer.

Zac frowned but explained anyway.
"Well he was sort of scrawny. Shaggy blonde hair, blue eyes. And like I said he normally looked sickly."