THIS STORY IS FICTIONAL, IT CONTAINS GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF SEX AND
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The Film
BY JYM

M/f , strip, nightmare

The Film
-
My grandfather died last year during my freshman year
in college. Mom called me to break the news. She told me she was
sending a plane ticket so I could attend the funeral. Then she
surprised me when she said, "Sara, you'll have to stay a day
extra for the reading of the will. Dad specifically requested
that you be there. Mr. Long said that Dad wanted you to do
something for him." I asked questions, but mom didn't know any
more than she'd already said.

Afterward, I cried for an hour. Grandpa and I had always
been close. We lived nearby and I was always over there. Grandma
died when I was little and I don't remember much about her other
than what Grandpa told me over the years. I do know that he
loved her very much and cherished my mother, his only child.

Grandpa was usually a cheerful person, but every once in
a while, maybe twice a year, he'd get in a mood that would last
for a few days or a week. I never knew what caused these moods
but I did know that it had something to do with the war. Grandpa
was an officer in Patton's 3rd Army and fought all the way from
Normandy to Berlin.

The funeral was solemn and depressing and I found myself
wishing that I had stayed at school. Of course I immediately
felt guilty about feeling that way and that only made things
worse. Then came the reading of the will. The reference to me
was short, but Mr. Long insisted that everyone else leave before
he read that part of the will. He said that grandpa had insisted
that it be done that way. When we were alone he read that
section of grandpa's will to me after cautioning that grandpa
wanted it to remain secret. He swore me to silence before
reading, "Sara, I leave you this film and ask that you view it
once before destroying it. It will help you understand those
black moods that came upon me periodically over the years." Then
Mr. Long handed me an old battered film cannister with a label
written in German. He also gave me grandpa's old 16mm projector
which he carried down to the car for me.

I watched the film that night and to this day I wish
that I had burned it first. It will haunt me until the day I
die. The way it haunted grandpa. For a long time I cursed him
for leaving it to me, but I've come to understand that he had to
share the knowledge with someone. Someone who would understand
how it affected him. Someone who would understand why he fought
that war and others that followed.

The film was short, no more than 15 minutes in length. A
scratch, black and white film shot by a German military (I
assume) cameraman during the war or shortly before. It begins
with a long shot of a concentration camp. An establishing shot I
believe it's called. Then there is an abrupt switch to an indoor
location. An empty room. Or what appears to be an empty room.
The camera pans around and shows a noose hanging from a rafter.
And a small stool postioned under the noose. After a few
moments, the camera swings to focus on the door to the room.

A few moments pass and then a German officer enters the
room. He is wearing the black uniform of the German SS. I'd seen
enough old war movies to recognize that much. A woman follows
him into the room. She is young, maybe 24 or 25, and very
beautiful. Dark hair and eyes, smooth pale complexion, slender
build. She wears the Star of David emblem signifying that she is
Jewish. She is accompanied by a small child, a girl of no more
than three or four years of age.

The officer spreaks, but it is impossible to know what
is being said because there is no soundtrack. The woman shakes
her head. The officer draws his sidearm and points it at the
little girl. The woman shields the child with her body and
speaks at length. The officer shakes his head. She pleads.
Finally, he nods in agreement. The woman stoops and kisses the
child. The officer turns toward the door and a minute later a
woman in civilan clothes appears and takes the child. The door
closes.

The young woman stares at the door for a moment. The
look on her face is a mixture of relief, hope and terror. She
glances at the officer who speaks briefly. She nods and begins
to remove her clothes. The camera lovingly follows every
movement. At this point I realize that the film was meant to be
the officer's souvenir. When the woman is finished undressing
the officer gestures for her to turn for the camera. Her body is
lovely. Her breasts are full and firm, her belly smooth and
gently curved, her thighs long and firm, sleek and smooth. Her
buttocks are tightly rounded and her legs are superb.

I want to look away but I can't. I watch as she climbs
up onto the stool and places the noose around her own neck. She
glances down at the officer and speaks for a moment. He nods and
replies. She seems satisfied. She glances at the camera and then
reaches up to grasp the rope with both hands. She lifts herself
off the stool. The officer removes it. She hangs there, holding
the rope in a tight grip. Then, gradually, her hands begin to
slip. The officer watches, smiling.

After two or three minutes her strength is gone. She
releases the rope and is left hanging by her neck. Her body
twists and turns as she slowly strangles to death. She loses
control of her bladder and a puddle forms beneath her. After
several horrible minutes it is over, the woman is dead. Her
tongue protrudes horribly. She is no longer beautiful. The film
ends and my nightmares begin.


- The End