((Oh that's fine! I totally know the feeling. And being busy never helps. I have no issues with out story progressing slowly. It actually gives me a chance to catch up on my other stories and some time to think about how I want Hans to react. :) I really like this story! I've never done something like this before and it's quite fun to play out!))

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He should have been used to the firm beds that itched. Sure, they were better than nothing, but sometimes nothing seemed better than something. Being new, Hans wasn't fortunate enough to get one of the "nicer" beds. He would soon earn that rank as he had been addressed by a few of the more senior men about a potential promotion. Not being too hasty, the blond would only nod and state lines he believed they would like to hear. From the sounds and feel of it all, it had worked. Perhaps he would earn a higher ranking within this camp. But what would that really do for him? Allow him to determine who lives and who dies? Being a pawn sounded nicer. There would be less blood on his hands, or so he figured.

Assigned to a horde of men (about forty in size of which Amir and Henry were a part of), he tagged along with the other soldiers who were also paired with this group. With the holes done, it was time to move onto the next stage. From the look of things, it appeared that these men would either be sewing large bags or building a wall. Since shackles and chains weren't in his sights, Hans decided that this 'lucky' crew would be tasked with the sack making. It might come as a relief to this sun-worn men, as this job took place inside. Each man would be given a dull needle as well as a ceaseless stack of cloth that they would need to sew together. The two large pieces would be hemmed on all sides, but the front, which served as the opening. The sacks varied in size -- some large and some small.

Holes. Sacks. What's next, coffins? No, that's what the sacks were. They were the body bags. Each worker in this room was crafting their own body bags -- and then some. There was no point in having everyone make one bag, which is why the camp was split into groups. These forty would now make well over a thousand bags. These bags would then be shipped to some nearby camps that were already preparing for the final stages of killing. Not to mention, some of these bags were needed to the lines. German soldiers weren't gods, so even they fell in the heat of the battle.

Marching down a clearly made pathway, Hans let his hawk-like eyes wander over the faces of the inmates that were here. With the use of needles, Hans also noted that there were more soldiers in this wing, too. It was odd to think that there would be more Germans. Hans figured that, if someone was dumb enough to come at them with a blunt needle, he would just pull out his gun and drop one dead. Pin verse gun. It was a no brainer which would win.

A blur came from another aisle. Eyes watching from the corner, he saw one man lunge at a German. Within seconds of raising from his spot, his body was back down and bleeding onto the floor. Those near the corpse didn't flinch for they knew any sudden movements would bring about their death. It was then when Hans realized just who was sitting in a pool of blood. It's the man from a few days ago. Heh, seems as if luck is not on his side.

Upon hearing the cocking of a gun, Hans raised his hand to his mouth and gave his throat a good clear. "Why lay waste to a capable worker? To prevent the spread of disease, allow him to change." Stepping over the row of workers, he now stood with his heels just centimeters from the seeping pool of blood. "Have that one clean it up." Pivoting on his heels, Hans now towered over Amir. "You," his voice was firm with an flair of arrogance, "come with me." Not wasting a second, Hans started to march down the aisle toward the exit. If he looked back and didn't see Amir following, he would have no choice but to kill the guy. Disobedience wasn't allowed, and the slave should know that.

Pushing open the door, the room flooded with a bright light. Shoving Amir out, Hans now had one hand firmyl clenching the guy's back while the other shielded his eyes from the sun. "Direct me to your chambers."