Reality smacked Bobby hard in the face. 1, 2, 3… his eyes came into focus, his mind began to clear. It was freezing cold, he was starving and his clothes were tattered rags. Every bone and muscle in his body ached; he had never felt so physically exhausted in his life. He stood amongst a small gathering of the similarly unfortunate. What had he signed up for? His memory was hazy, but this… somehow, this wasn't real. Or at least, this wasn't him.
A group of soldiers, their weapons raised, stood a few metres away behind an infuriated… Sergeant? Captain? In any case, the leader. He was yelling in… German? - Bobby was never any good with languages - and waving a Luger pistol over his head. Where the fuck am I? Thought Bobby, but then, as soon as he had asked himself the question, he knew. No! Anything but this, anything! Oh Jesus fucking Christ not this!
7, 8, 9… The soldiers moved amongst them, selected nine people, seemingly at random, and lined them up in front of the rest of the group. Bobby was the last in line. He wanted to fight against them, to scream, to run, to beg for mercy. He was an American citizen for Christ’s sake! But he wasn't in control. Something came back to him then. This is not me thought Bobby. But even so… 30 seconds? That means something. 30 seconds...
The chosen nine were forced to their knees, and down onto their bellies. Nobody resisted. Their faces were stony, emotionless. Bobby remembered why. 14, 15, 16… He heard the first gunshot. Moments later, a second. By the time the eighth gunshot rang out, the person Bobby had become was shaking and crying, but he still did not resist. The leader stood over him, shouting, ejected the clip from his pistol, and slammed in another. Bobby felt the cold metal press into the back of his shaven head, 27, 28, 29... and howled a silent scream, lost inside this other mind. No matter how loud he tried to yell, nobody could hear him.