“Yes, sir,” Margaret replied, her red lips moving as she tried to push her ample chest forward, the Iron Cross gleaming even brighter. She had heard of this devilish general, a legendary figure in the SS, the youngest and most handsome officer, but she had never seen him in person. She never expected to be fortunate enough to meet him today, thanks to this foolish girl.
“Very well, the camp will remember your achievements,” he nodded.
“Thank you, sir.” She gazed at him, her brown eyes filled with smiles, her legs together, standing straight, while inside she was restless, wishing to climb into his bed immediately.
However, General Ryan only glanced at her once; his attention remained focused on Khanyi. “Lieutenant, according to this lady, she is a member of the Red Cross.”
“Sir, this female prisoner has issues,” Margaret smiled at him, gesturing to her own head.
“No, she is lying! I am not a prisoner of war! My name is Gianna, and I am a nurse for the International Red Cross.”
“Crazy woman, are you still not awake? Spouting nonsense in front of the general,” Margaret stepped forward, shoving Khanyi’s shoulder.
Bound as she was, she could only retaliate with words, “I am not crazy; you are the one who is insane! You abuse women in the camp who are prettier than you, beating their breasts until they bleed. It was because I stopped you that you took revenge and locked me up.”
“You crazy woman! Bastard!” Enraged, Margaret raised her hand to slap her, but just as she lifted her arm, she was suddenly seized by a powerful grip. Following that immense, irresistible force, she looked over to see a hint of a smile on General Ryan’s handsome lips. She stared in a daze, “Sir… please let me teach this ungrateful woman a lesson.”
“Enough.” At his gentle interruption, Margaret had no choice but to lower her arm.
“She is abusing prisoners of war! The Red Cross will expose these matters, and international public opinion will condemn your atrocities!” Khanyi gasped as she finished speaking. She saw Dr. Jaxon and Lieutenant Margaret exchange glances, their eyes filled with mockery and disdain. General Ryan’s ice-blue eyes once again focused on Khanyi.
She had fallen into a den of demons. Everyone before her was a devil, and there was no reason for these demons.
“You are all devils! Let me go! Let me go!” No matter how she struggled, she was forcibly pressed onto the operating table by two military doctors in white coats. Her hands were secured to the iron rings on the table with ropes, her legs spread apart and tightly bound.
A sponge was stuffed into her mouth, silencing her cries, and she could only sob helplessly, feeling like a sacrificial offering on an altar, with no chance of resistance among these demons. Each one of them was an extreme pervert; the concentration camp guard, Lieutenant Margaret , was a venomous female friend who specialized in torturing prisoners, and she was grinning wickedly at her; Dr. Jaxon was even worse, a fetishist and impotent man, his terrifyingly decayed face displaying a look of desire; the one approaching the operating table was the incredibly handsome General Ryan.
His ice-blue eyes appeared above her, and even from this angle, seeing his sharp chin and prominent Adam’s apple, he was still very handsome. But in Khanyi’s heart, she could no longer care about such things; in her eyes, he was a beast clad in a handsome human skin.
“It seems the nurse is quite agitated. Perhaps it is too hot here, and she needs someone to help cool her down,” General Ryan said as he took a pair of white medical gloves from a white tray held by a nearby doctor, skillfully slipping his long fingers into the gloves.
“Umm…” Her mouth was blocked, unable to make a sound, but her eyes saw him pick up the surgical scissors from the white tray.
He bent down, as if an archaeologist examining a newly unearthed artifact, his eyes filled with focused intent. She could hear the sound of fabric being cut, “snip, snip,” his movements with the scissors resembling a tailor measuring fabric, except the tailor’s purpose was to sew her clothes, while he was cutting her prison uniform into tatters.
She could only choose to close her eyes to avoid the ruthless scrutiny from his ice-blue eyes. Trembling beneath his gaze.
