‘ Lay back’, that’s all she said. The voice hard, and cruel. Those once gentle eyes long replaced by a hardness, an uncaring, ruthless hue. Even though she was female, and perhaps at one time maternal. That was long gone. She was as ruthless, and cruel as any of the other commandants, well, torturers in the camp.
‘Open wide’, not a suggestion, more an order, and one that had better been obeyed. What choice did he have. Another beating, more starvation. More back breaking, physical labour in the fields. In the cold freezing bleak winter, that passed for a season.
He gripped the sides of the battered and well worn leather chair, that many had used before him. The bright white lights obscured her view, but not the pain she was inflecting. She inserted the scalpel, and what seemed like a miniature crowbar, and began to examine his teeth. Not that they needed redimaal treatment, aside from his softening gums. A result of the very poor diet they were subjected to. He would have gladly paid for an anaesthetic, but he knew, she would not be forthcoming with one in any case.
The scent of her perfume was alluring. A gentle mixture of musk, and sweet orange petals. He was sure, he discerned. Such a gentle fragrance so out of sync with her hardened persona.
The guard by the door, examined his diary. His ill fitting uniform, helmet and rifle by his side. Bored beyond belief with he duties assigned to him. No doubt, would much rather be at the front, in the war zone. Doing what he could to ensure victory for the Fatherland. But this is where he was assigned, and he would carry out his duty to the best of his ability.
He could never understand the use of soothing classical music. It was not, he assured himself for the benefit of the patients, the genie pigs, as they didn’t really matter. What were they, but mere expendable subjects. With many more, readily available to replace them, if necessary. Neither did he understand what they hoped to gain, to learn, by inflecting such torturer on there prisoners, their victims. As she continued to examine his teeth, and purposefully strike the nerves with her instruments of torture. She smiled, cruelly as he jolted in the seat, as she probed inside his mouth, and along his finely attuned teeth. Her sense of power, adding to, and enhancing her self esteem. The weathered leather chair straps restraining his increasingly violent bodily movements.
He wanted to scream out in pain, as the silver instruments touched the nerves in his teeth, and perspiration appeared on his forehead, but he stopped himself. A little victory. The wooden shed, that passed for a medical center, cum torture chamber, had no sound proofing to hide the screams. He owed it to his men, or so believed, to be strong, to show leadership. To not be beaten down in such a situation.
He transported his mind back to his childhood in Austria. Those summer days of freedom exploring the mountains and forests, near to his home.
He recalled images of his portly, ever smiling Mother, as she cooked goulash and apple strudel for the family, and the laughter they shared when his father, returned from tending to the sheep on the mountain side. His hearty laughter, contagious around the long wooden kitchen table, and the blazing warming open fire.
The pain increased as she began to start using the dentists drill. The loud noise itself, enough to make one tense up. But without anaesthetic. It was an absolute instrument of torture. It’s long outstretched mechanical arms, like some type of automated robotic torture instrument. As small remanents of his teeth and gums, flew at speed from his mouth. He noted her cruel smile, as she bent over him, forcefully leaning on the drill.
Again he closed his eyes, and transported himself back to his childhood, and those summer days on the mountain side, in their remote home. The happiness and joys he shared with his loving parents and sister. His mind reverted through those youthful, happy years he spent in that small town. The friends he made. The first forays into female companionship. He smiled at the memories.
He was awakened from his memories by her screaming, and rough handling.
‘Take him away, he is no good’, the guard slowly walked towards the dentists old weathered chair, and began to undo the tightened straps, that held the unwilling patient down. She slammed the instruments down onto the tray, which rattled at the force of her anger. She turned away, removed her putrid rubber gloves, and began to wash her hands, at the filthy brown stained sink.
The guard struggled to drag the unconscious, but smiling body back to the shed from where it came.