Time/Date Error (Damned of the 2/19th-Book Six) - Done

A Bad Day Getting Better

North Bachelor Officer's Quarters
Fifth Floor
2/19th SWG Barracks
2/19th Special Weapons Group Area
Secure Area, Alfenwehr
West Germany
28 October, 1987
0230

Stillwater was walking in front of me, slow footsteps that looked like they should thud against the frozen tile but instead were soundless. He'd stopped dripping blood from his hands onto the tile, which was good. We were about ten feet from the set of middle dividing doors, having walked almost a full city block, when he suddenly stopped. He pressed himself against the wall and looked at me, his face gastly in the glow from the chemlight I had stuck between my boobs. Those assholes had torn open my BDU top, ripping the top two buttons free, when they'd groped my tits before the three of them had taken turns shoving dicks in my mouth. The top of my BDU blouse was open, the neck of my brown T-shirt torn from those three idiots shoving their hands into it to grope my tittty-meat, meaning my cleavage was not only on display, but getting colder by the second. The skin, normally brown from sunning myself at Atlas or wherever I got the chance, was white, waxy looking, the freckles standing out like spots of dried blood. The green chemlight made my breasts and Stillwater's face look like that of a corpse.

I threw myself against the wall, not even asking, still looking at him. The pupil on his left eye was still dilated and fixed to the point his iris looked like it had no color, his left pupil had shrunk, responding to the dim glow of the green chemlight.

I opened my mouth to ask him what it was, when I heard it myself.

A child. A girl child. Singing in Yiddish. Tap shoes clacking on the floor in rhythm to her song.

...oh Lord Jesus, protect me and guard me...

Stillwater pointed at his own eyes, then at me, then closed his one eye.

Whatever that was in his skull stared at me through the open ruined eye. Cold, calculating, inhuman, but not malevolent.

...not of the mountain...

Something inside him maybe?

Just before I closed my eyes I saw her.

She moved through the door as if it wasn't there. Her hair in pigtails, ribbons dazzled with rhinestones at the ends, a small yellowish dress with embriodered flowers. Tapshoes with rhinestone clad buckles. A yellowish-white Star of David on her left breast attached with black thread that also spelled out "JUDEN' on her dress.

Her eyes were black pits where two small marbles of pitch black glittered. Her mouth was smeared with crimson and when she sang I could see needle-like teeth in her mouth and a tongue like a rasp. Her fingertip were without fingernails, the ends replaced with lamprey mouths that pulsed with a strange life all their own, the flesh inside the mouth vile and purple, the teeth a glossy black.

She held a jump rope by the brightly painted handles in one hand, the rope snaking behind her, the middle of the rope black with blood that left a red smear in the frost that bloomed beneath her tap dancing shoes.

I shut my eyes before she knew I had seen her. I hoped.

...Gracious Heavenly Father, in Jesus Christ's name, I approach Your throne of grace and ask for your help in my time of need...

I prayed silently for the little girl to pass me by.

The tap shoes went by, the Yiddish song drifting by as if it was being sung from somewhere far away, much further than the taps from her shoes.

Ice cold washed over me, making the tears that had squeezed from my eyes freeze in my lashes, making the moisture I'd left on my lips when I had licked them nervously froze instantly, cracking the delicate skin. The lobes of my ears flared with pain and vanished. The sensitive mucus membranes in my nose froze painfully. My crotch, my poor muffin, flared with pain as all the warmth vanished and the delicate tissues were seared by cold. My nipples ached with one  throb and were replaced by two points of ice that drove cold deep into my breasts, reaching for my heart.