I’m knee-deep in NaNo this month, so I figured I would share a bit of my manuscript with you for this week’s Muse. Right now, my word count is at 11,221. I’m going for 100,000, but that’s not a cut-in-stone goal, as I have a million other projects I am currently in the middle of working on in addition to NaNo.
For NaNo, I’m actually working on a slew of different short stories. This enables me to hop around if I’m having issues with my word count or if I’m stuck on a story. Today’s Muse piece is an excerpt from a story I have tentatively titled, Camille’s Castle, in which a woman living in an alternate reality where Hitler and the SS have taken over the U.S. is captured by the Nazis and eventually stumbles upon an experiment that could allow for the Nazis to travel to parallel worlds.
This is NaNo, so there haven’t been any real edits done to this. That’s my disclaimer.
The fog has slithered in, thick and cold like a serpent. There wasn’t much to the night. It was quiet and dark, cold and unfriendly.
Camille wandered through the dark alleys, her gaze searching the shadows for friend or foe. But it seemed that the night had taken everyone, even the cats that usually wandered the Dirskstrom district. Her black heels rapped across the thick brick underneath her feet the same way the SS pounded on the doors of its victims before barging in and abducting them.
She shook the thought from her mind and pulled her gray trench coat around her tighter, as if the cotton itself would shield her from the SS. She knew though that there was no hiding from the SS. Not forever, anyway. Their technology was beyond compare, and their tenacity was supernatural on the same level as the Devil himself.
She passed a wall plastered with dozens of flyers with Nazi propaganda. A large yellow blimp took up most of the page, the Nazi swastika filling the majority of the balloon’s surface. It flew over a large, dark silhouette of a city she didn’t recognize. It was probably a generic city, as she knew the SS wanted nothing more than to take over every city. Nazis fell from the balloon, each outfitted with parachutes that hadn’t opened yet. German words filled the space around the swastika, calling for anyone and everyone to join the SS army to stop the ‘infidels’, which was just another word for anyone who didn’t believe what the Nazi army believed.
Camille felt a sneeze coming on and darted into the shadows, discharging it into the sleeve of her coat. The shriek at the end of her sneeze echoed through the corridors around her, sending back a very uncanny sound that made her wonder if someone else was in the shadows with her.
She glanced around the intersection she stood at. Three streets came to a point, with a tall white pillar in the center of the intersecting space. More Nazi propaganda covered the pillar from bottom to top, with a particular flyer catching her attention. A tall German woman dressed in a long, black dress held a microphone in one hand and a luger in the other. Someone had added in computer generated musical notes going from the mic to the top of the ad where her name, Alestair Kerung, was printed in bright red color.
“Nein,” Camille whispered. The word meant ‘no’ in German, but to Camille it had become her absolute objection to anything that had to do with the SS party. Alestair was a horrible woman who worked in the SS’s experimental technologies division. She was a beast, one who didn’t have a moral compass or any kind of compass. She did exactly what the SS had bred her to do: manipulate the public. She was also in charge of the storming parties which came in the middle of the night and abducted most of Camille’s neighbors.
It was only a matter of time before she was abducted. Well, it was only a matter of time until they attempted to abduct her. She patted her black purse, comforted by the small Glock she hid there. If she went out of this world, it would be fighting.
Camille picked the street leading south and walked down it at a brisk pace, eager to get back home. Being out in the dark street at night was forbidden according to the SS’s curfew rule, as was owning a weapon, wearing heels, and wearing any type of religious jewelry. Camille’s anklet with the Christian fish would certainly qualify for religious jewelry.
She took a right at the end of the street and passed by a bakery that was closed for the night. She peered into the window briefly and was able to make out a large wooden table with patches of flour spread around it. James Baker (that was his real name, coincidentally) must not have had time to clean up before the curfew went into effect tonight. He usually kept his bakery spotless.