Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Dangerous Territory	By : Rhov Category: +. to F > Attack on Titan /Shingeki No Kyojin Views: 4227 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own “Shingeki no Kyojin” and do not make money from this fanfic.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter 8
The Weight of a Whip

Eren was once again heading to the small castle where the Jewish prisoners were kept; however, when he got down to the dungeons, he saw all the cells empty, even Levi's. He trotted back upstairs and found a bored guard.
"Where are the Jews?" he demanded.
"Hauptmann Woermann took them out to be flogged."
"Flogged?" snapped Eren. "Why? What did they do?"
The guard chuckled softly. "Does there need to be a reason? They're filthy Jews. I heard it's because one ran off, so all the rest are to be punished."
Eren stormed out and began to ask around. It did not take long to find out the location of the captain with a small crowd around him, many of them cheering, some counting.
"What is going on?" Eren asked a soldier.
"Herr Leutnant! The captain is whipping them until they cry. We're all taking bets. This one, though, he's lasted through twenty lashes already and not a peep. We almost thought he was a mute, but someone said he's being used as a translator."
Eren felt his blood chill. He pushed his way forward, elbowing past the rowdy crowd, until he saw the center. The Jewish women had huddled together, all of them sobbing, some of them with their clothes in disorder. The men stood around them, but they were watching what was happening in the middle.
Eren saw Levi leaned over a table someone had dragged out into the street, hands tied with ropes to the edges, and his shirt removed. Kitz Woermann's eyes were maniacal as he swung a flogger again, and Eren saw an arc of blood splatter the ground. Levi's fists clenched and his teeth gritted, yet he made no sound at all.
"Herr Hauptmann!" shouted Eren.
The commander looked up and grinned. "Lieutenant Jäger! Care to give him a few lashes? I think I must be out of shape."
"You said we needed to keep him alive."
"This won't kill him," Kitz said dismissively, not realizing how much blood was dripping down Levi's back. "Come. Give him a few lashes."
The crowd shouted, "Tu es! Mach schon!" Do it! Come on!
Eren looked horrified, but he caught Levi looking right at him.
"Do it, takhshet," he ordered in English.
"What are you talking about? I can't—"
"If you have any common sense at all, you would do it, you stupid, weak Nazi!" he bellowed.
The crowd was not sure what they were saying, but when they heard this Jew yelling back at a German officer, they began to get rowdy.
"If you don't," Levi said quietly, "you will be tied to this table next. Do it, in earnest, and I promise to cry like this bastard wants."
"But Levi, I—"
"Feigling!" bellowed Levi. It was one of the few German words he knew. Coward!
Eren's eyes widened in alarm at that rebellious insult.
Now the audience was in an uproar. Kitz did not even wait. He slapped the flogger into Eren's hands.
"It's all in the wrist, Jäger. Try not to let it hit you on the recoil."
Eren realized he had no choice, not after that. He was also furious. He came here to help Levi and was trying to think of a way to get him out of this. With that shout, the Jew had called into question Eren's authority and thus doomed himself.
"Do it, Herr Leutnant. Ten more lashes! Show him the strength of Aryan blood."
Eren weighed the flogger in his hand. A cat-o-nine-tails! The tips already had blood on them. He had never whipped someone before. He had no idea how hard was too hard. He guessed, in this situation, there was no such thing as too hard. Anything weak would be viewed with derision by those around him. A quick glance at all the surrounding soldiers showed Eren that now he had to be what the Nazi Party wanted him to be. Cold. Ruthless.
"Do it," Levi muttered.
Eren's jaw stiffened as he shoved down his feelings and froze his heart. "Fine," he growled at Levi.
"Speak it in German, takhshet," he muttered, bracing himself.
Eren bellowed it for everyone to hear. "So sei es." So be it.
The whip slapped down, but even Eren could tell it was a weak hit.
"Go, Jäger! More. In the wrist! Flick the wrist."
Eren struck again. "Du bist nur eine Judensau." You are merely a Jewish sow.
And again! "Du bist nicht mal ein Mensch." You are not even human.
"Du bist ein Untermensch." You are a subhuman.
"Juden sind abscheulich." Jews are loathsome.
With each insult came with a strike as Eren whipped Levi again and again. He had seen punishment like this enough times. He knew what was expected, what to say and do, yet he felt disconnected from reality.
This was not his arm.
These were not his words.
"Du bist schmutzig." You are filthy.
"Widerwärtig." Disgusting.
"Abstoßend." Repulsive.
The flogger struck wildly, and Levi sucked in air as it hit up his spine to the back of his neck. Still, Eren watched on in cold detachment.
"Alle Juden müssen sterben!" All Jews must die!
The crowd shouted back, "Stirb, Judenscheiße!" Die, Jewshit!
When the whip came down this time, Levi shrieked and began to go limp. "Putain! Arrête! Halt! Stop! Je t'en prie." Fuck! Stop! I beg of you.
His voice jolted Eren. He looked down at the blood-striped back, then at his hand holding the whip.
Was this his hand? It felt numb. Disconnected.
The whip flew down again and struck Levi despite the cries of surrender.
Levi screamed, "Bon sang, j'ai dit arrête!" For chrissake, I said stop! He panted heavily as his body sank under the pain. "S'il te plaît … pitié. J'ai trop mal. J'abandonne. S'il te plaît arrête!" Please … pity. It hurts too much. I give up. Please just stop this!
Despite the pitifully weak cries, Eren felt his hand rise again, but someone grabbed his wrist. He looked over and saw Kitz standing beside him with a proud smile.
"Much more and you really will kill him. Good job, Jäger." Then he shouted to the crowd, "It seems the young lieutenant managed to break the unbreakable Jew."
The crowd cheered, still shouting vile insults at Levi.
"My duty … to my homeland … Herr Hauptmann," Eren replied, shaking deep inside.
"To Germany, and to all Aryans," Kitz shouted.
"Um, yes," he muttered.
"That's enough entertainment for one afternoon. Take these vermin back underground where they belong. I want them out of my sight. Let them lick each other's wounds like dogs, but I want them out cleaning the latrines again around midnight. Tell them they are to work at night now, not during the day. We shouldn't have to subject ourselves to looking at their kind for too long."
Soldiers untied Levi, and he slipped down to his knees. A female Jew ran to his side and helped Levi to stand. Another woman draped his shirt over the bloodied back. Pale, limping, and trailing blood, Levi trudged off in the direction of the castle.
Kitz instructed some young soldier to clean the filthy blood off his flogger. As the crowd dispersed, he called out, "Jäger."
The lieutenant paused and turned back around warily. Now what?
In a quiet, private voice, the captain reprimanded, "You hesitated. Never hesitate. It looks bad for the men, and that thing in particular will see you as weak. Jews are not smart enough to save themselves from pain. You need to teach them with a heavy hand, for it's the only one God ever showed to them. They're too stupid, inferior creations unworthy of being called human, dumber than animals, which is why a good whipping now and then works."
"I will remember that," he answered promptly.
"Do you know why I whipped them, Jäger?"
"You are the captain. You need no reason."
"But there was a reason. Please, try to guess."
Eren honestly had no idea. The Jews had been working around the village for weeks. They had not complained or caused trouble, besides some grumbling in Yiddish that Levi said was just Jewish kvetching.
"Because one escaped?"
"That's one reason. Name the other."
He shrugged and shook his head. "Was it a problem with a soldier?"
"Very good. It was. And that soldier was you."
Eren stiffened in dread. "Me? I didn't do anything."
"You've been lazy, sloppy, and far too concerned for this deplorable group. Maybe you think of them as pets you can toy with and play house, but believe me, that's the wrong way of thinking when it comes to Jews. They are not pets. They are beasts of burden. The only reason Germans do not outright exterminate them all is that we need the manpower. There are camps, Jäger, where Jews and others go, where they work for as long as they are useful, and when they lack usefulness, they are killed. In these camps, they are routinely beaten, sleep five to a blanket, and yet they work with more vigor than most Germans. That's what they are good at. Like a horse on a farm. No, too noble. Like worms placed in a garden to keep the soil softened. With these worms digging through the mire, the beautiful white lilies, which are Aryans, can blossom. Those camps assure that better men do not have to toil in the mud. What we have here is a microcosm of that. They work so we can grow. They work until we no longer need them, and then we dispose of them." Kitz slammed his hand down onto Eren's shoulder, making him flinch. "When I discovered that one of my finest young lilies is working extra hard tending to the worms rather than blossoming, that defeats the purpose of our little garden."
Eren felt the late spring air as a drip of sweat slipped down his neck, and only years of training prevented him from shaking in fear.
"You attended Hitler Youth, yes?"
"Of course. All the children in my town did."
"And were you taught about Jews?"
"I was told that they are undesirable, dirty, a plague on Europe and the world."
"They are also manipulative, and that one in particular is playing you like a fiddle. Do you believe what you were taught in school about Jews, Eren?"
Not Jäger or Lieutenant. He was being schooled like a boy again, not reprimanded as an officer. He was on dangerous ground now and had to choose his words carefully. "They are the words of the Führer. Of course they are true."
"And why would you say something like that?"
"Hitler is the sort of man I aspire to become. He is the savior of Germany. Everything he has done has been to promote the greatness of Germany. No one loves Germany as much as the Führer. Heil Hitler!" he shouted bombastically.
Kitz smiled smugly. "You have a bright future ahead of you, Lieutenant Jäger."
Eren felt slight relief that he was back to addressing him as an officer. "Thank you, Hauptmann Woermann."
The hand on his shoulder gripped harder, crushing into his clavicle. Eren nearly cried out in pain, but suddenly those sunken eyes were peering straight down into his face. "Don't sully it by playing with worms."
He struggled not to let the pain show on his face. "Thank you for the admonishment, sir. I am honored."
Kitz laughed softly, his hand loosened, and he patted Eren's arm in approval. He began to walk away, yet he shouted back, "I'm going to try to get that French girl to speak later today. Make sure the translator is conscious."
"He will be ready for you."
"No." He spun back around sharply. "You will be ready. That thing is a tool. Tools should always be ready to be used; otherwise, they are discarded. You must be ready, and bring your tool sharpened to do the job."
"Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann!" Eren saluted and hurried off.
His shoulder now ached, and his skin felt cold after sweating in fear. It had been a long time since he felt dread like that. A long, long time!
A memory flashed through his mind, and with it a sick surge in his stomach.
* * *
“Schieb‘s dir in den Arsch, scheiß Schwuchtel. Schieb‘s dir in den Arsch, scheiß Schwuchtel. Schieb‘s dir in den Arsch, scheiß Schwuchtel.”
Shove it up your ass, shitty faggot.
Those words made Eren shiver. He shook his head, desperate to get the taunting scene out of his mind, yet he still saw it, a haunting memory, himself as a small child, two boys being punished, forcefully bent over with their butts raised, their tan uniforms dirtied with boot prints, and the air filled with the quiet sobs the two boys bravely struggled to hold back their tears.
“Eren. Komm schon!” Eren, come on.
“Ich kann nicht.” I can’t.
“Sei kein Feigling.” Don’t be a coward.
“Komm, mach schon!” Come on, do it!
“Bist du einer von ihnen?” Are you one of them?
One of the boys looked back, and in those silent blue eyes lined with tears, he could tell the boy was telling him to go ahead and obey the teacher.
“So sei es.” So be it. Young Eren also raised his foot above the two beaten boys and in a loud voice screamed that taunting phrase. “Schieb‘s dir in den Arsch, scheiß Schwuchtel.”
As his boot came down, there was a crunch of bones, and the memory shattered with the distant echoes of a scream.
* * *
“Eren Jäger?”
He jolted out of the memory with a gasp as reality crashed back down on him. He saw one of the Jews standing in front of him.
“Ah. Moses, ja?”
“Oui. Levi … sorry, my English no good. Help Levi. Il a besoin de médicaments.”
“Medic- … ah!” He needed medication. Obviously, Levi needed some healing. Eren began to turn, but he stopped. The admonishment from Kitz still rang in his head, along with that old memory. “Blood … sang … beaucoup?” Blood. Lots?
“Oui. Il saigne beaucoup.”
Eren did not fully understand, but it was enough. Levi’s bleeding was severe. He needed medical equipment, bandages, and disinfectant. There was no way Eren could take supplies like that meant for soldiers and give it to a Jewish prisoner.
“Verdammt!” He stomped the ground with that curse. “Pour Levi … dire lui…” To Levi, tell him…
Eren had to think. This message had to be given in English—it was the only way—and it needed to be short enough for this man to memorize.
“I’ll try. I can’t promise when.” Eren gave the man a hand signal showing him to repeat it.
“Ail … dry.”
“I’ll try.”
“I’ll try?”
“I can’t promise when.”
“I … cunt … praw miz … ven.”
“Close enough. Tell Levi: I’ll try. I can’t promise when.”
“Je vais lui dire. Merci!” I will tell him that. Thank you! Moses ran off with a loping gait back to the castle.
Eren removed his cap and ran his hand through his hair. “You were right, you crazy Jew. I’m going to get into trouble because of you. Verdammt!”
He marched as fast as he could without attracting attention and went straight back to the house his group had taken over. Most of them were gone, but Thomas was playing a card game with Armin.
“Hello, Eren!” Armin beamed happily.
Eren paused and looked at the small man. Obviously, these two had not been at the whipping, so they looked as relaxed and cheerful as ever, unlike the cold detachment Eren still felt.
“Obergefreiter Arlelt.”
Armin stiffened at being addressed as a lance corporal and not in the relaxed, friendly camaraderie their platoon had formed.
“You know some medicine, yes?”
“Enough for minor battle wounds. Why?”
“The captain took it upon himself to beat that Jewish translator half to death and then ordered me to have him conscious by this evening. I doubt I can get medical supplies, so I’m going to use my own. Since I want to minimize wasting my own supplies, would you help me?”
“Of course,” Armin said instantly. “I don’t want you to get into trouble with the captain.”
Eren was glad it was Armin there. He was a good kid. He looked not even old enough to have finished school, scrawny but brilliant. He would have served Germany better sitting in a room planning battles, not in the trenches firing a rifle.
Once Eren had his medical kit, they left together. However, he saw Armin grab his own medical kit. Knowing this young soldier, he would rather use up his rations so his lieutenant was not short, rather than let Eren do what he had been ordered to do.
They went to the castle and down into the dungeon. Armin glanced around with distaste. The smell was worse than it had been the first day, despite Levi’s obsession with cleaning his cell. In fact, his was the only one that gleamed.
Levi was lying face-down on his cot. Someone had a bucket of water and was dabbing the bleeding lashes with a rag. The group of Jews moved away in a hurry as Eren and Armin entered the prison cell.
Armin cringed as he saw the shredded flesh on Levi’s back. “Das ist schrecklich.” That’s awful.
Eren agreed but felt pressured not to say anything. Instead, he sat by the Jew’s side. “Levi, are you awake?” he asked in English.
“Unfortunately,” he muttered. “I only wish I could pass out. Ça fait mal, putain!” It fucking hurts!
“I brought medication.” He pulled out a clear bottle of disinfecting Spirictus. “It will hurt. A lot,” he warned. “I’m sorry.”
Steely eyes shot up to him. “Never say those words to me again in any language, takhshet. Never.” He smothered his face down into his pillow rags. “Do what you have to.”
Levi gave some orders in French to his companions. The tall man named Moses pulled off his belt and put it between Levi’s teeth for him to bite on the leather. Eren poured the Spirictus onto a gauze.
He remembered in Italy, getting hit with shrapnel and Armin disinfecting the cut with this ethanol solution. He knew Levi was going to be in agony. Still, without it, the wounds would get infected, especially wearing unwashed clothes.
Eren started at the worst lash, where the skin had split apart and blood dripped. Steadying his hand, he dabbed on the alcohol. Levi pulled, and Moses held him down. A scream of agony was muted through the leather belt.
Armin noted, “Die Wunde muss genäht werden.” That wound must be sutured.
“Könntest du das tun? Ich bin nicht gut im Wunden nähen.” Can you do that? I am not good at stitching wounds.
“Gieße mehr Spiritus drauf. Wasche die Wunde. Ich kann sagen, dass ich versehentlich meine Phiole zerbrochen habe, also verwende alles.” Pour on more Spirictus. Wash the wound. I can say I accidentally shattered my vial, so use it all.
Eren nodded and poured the alcohol directly onto the gash. Three people were now holding Levi down as he cried out into the pillow.
“We need to stitch this,” Eren said in English.
“Quoi?” Levi growled, unable to think through the pain.
“Stitch. Um … suture?”
“Suture,” Levi groaned with a nod. That word, he knew in French. “Merde, ça va faire mal.” Shit, this is going to hurt.
Armin pulled out a suture kit, setting up the needle holder, forceps, scissors, and carefully opening a box full of glass vials, each containing a needle and thread inside a solution of alcohol.
“Eren, desinfiziere die Wunde in der Nähe der Hüfte.” Eren, disinfect the gash near his hip.
Eren saw him preparing the tiny hooked needle. “Warte!” Hold on! He reached around to a flask on his belt and pulled it out. He put a hand on Levi’s head. “Levi, drink this. Drink all of it.”
He pulled the belt out from between his teeth, sniffed the metal flask, and yanked back.
“You’ll need it. Drink!” He pressed the flask to Levi’s lips and tipped the bottle, not giving him any chance to argue. Rather than protest, Levi eagerly drank the strong alcohol. Eren kept the flask tipping slowly upward until there was nothing left.
Levi growled as he licked his lips. “First time I can get drunk in four years, and it’s on German shit.” He put the belt back between his teeth and settled back on his stomach. “Do it. Don’t worry about it being pretty. Just be quick so it does not hurt as long.”
Armin looked up, needle prepared for the procedure. “Wir könnten ihm Morphin geben.” We could give him Morphine.
“Nein, wir können keine Medikamente für einen Juden verschwenden.” No, we can’t waste medication on a Jew.
“Eren!”
“Wir können es nicht!” We can’t do it!
Armin kept his mouth closed. He saw rage on Eren’s face, but he heard grief in his voice. “Warne ihn.” Warn him.
“Levi, don’t move.”
Levi nodded in understanding. Armin brought the tiny needle down, pulled the edge of the gash skin up with the forceps, and Levi let out a groan of pain. As the needle hovered above the wound, the tension in the room felt ready to shatter.
“Verzeihung,” Armin whispered in apology, then he pressed the needle down into the torn flesh.
Pardon? Eren was slightly surprised—and immensely relieved—to see that Armin would apologize to Levi, despite him being a Jew, and in such a formal way too. He knew he made the right call asking this man, of all the soldiers in his platoon, to come with him.
On Levi’s part, he handled the pain well, or maybe he was simply overwhelmed and could not register any extra pain. A few shouts, clenching of his hands and gritting onto the leather belt between his teeth, but he hardly flinched as the needle pierced in again and again. Eren thought about the bath in the river, those scars on this man’s body, some of them now covered with new wounds and blood. Had Levi been stitched up before? That was highly likely.
Armin said softly, “Er ist ohnmächtig geworden.” He passed out.
Eren also realized the body under him had gone silent, and he was glad. At least now they could work without Levi being in pain. While Armin stitched the gash, Eren got to work on disinfecting the other wounds.
* * *
That evening, Levi managed to walk to the cellar where the French Resistance girl Annie was being interrogated. He translated for the Germans, saying precisely what Eren told him, repeating without filtering every foul curse the girl said in reply. His eyes did not change from their cold expression as the teenage girl was struck, as Kitz Woermann kicked her fragile legs over and over until the shins were dripping with blood, and even when one fingernail was ripped off.
Despite all of this, Annie did not reveal anything. She passed out, and the captain decided to halt things for the night.
“Jäger, good job getting the Jew back up. See how passive he is? That’s all it takes, a beating from time to time, and these things turn into the docile animals they’re meant to be.”
“It’s as you say, sir,” Eren said with cold eyes.
“You hate the British, yes? Treat these Jews the way you would treat a Tommy, for they are a far more dangerous enemy. At least we can contain the British to their little island, but Jews are like rats: invasive, spreading the disease of their subhuman blood and greedy instincts. Even the one who ran off, she could breed a dozen new rats in her miserable lifetime. Just one escapes, and you have an infestation. Remember that, Jäger. As much as you hate the British, despise the Jews even more. Despise them like rats.” Then he walked out looking smug with his little lesson.
Eren turned sharply and marched out, barely waiting for Levi. The Jew followed as quickly as he could, but he was visibly in pain. Still, Eren did not offer to go slower or ask him if he was all right. He said nothing the whole journey to the dungeon, where he curtly locked Levi back into his cell.
“You are excused from cleaning for the night, but tomorrow do not expect mercy,” Eren said, and he sternly turned to go.
“Takhshet,” Levi called out. “Are you all right?”
Eren spun back around, his face grim as he snapped, “You shouldn’t care about someone like me.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t,” he agreed, “yet I do.” His eyes lowered, hating to see the self-loathing in Eren’s eyes. “You did what you had to.”
“Yeah!” he laughed bitterly. “You made sure of that, calling me a coward, goading me into it.”
“If I hadn’t forced you, do you have any idea what they would’ve done to you?”
Eren screamed, “Why do you care what happens to me?”
Levi had no answer. Their eyes lingered, and he could tell that Eren was on the brink of crying, only barely holding back.
“Because,” Levi whispered, but he still struggled to find the answer. “Because, for whatever shitty reason, whatever sick twist of fate … I don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t want them to get their claws in you. I would rather my back get ripped up than see you get ripped apart by those vultures.”
“Why?” Eren asked again, and he took a step back toward the prison cell. “Why do you care?”
“Maybe because I see a lot of myself in you,” Levi whispered, “and I don’t want you to turn out how I did. You don’t deserve this. Any of it! You hate yourself right now—I can see it—and that means they haven’t gotten to you yet.”
“But why … why would you…”
“Right back at you! Why are you like this?” he shouted. “I wouldn’t have to do shit like this if you didn’t try to play the hero all the time. Why the hell do you give a damn about me?”
Eren slammed his mouth shut. “I have my reasons.”
“And I have mine!” he snapped. “Now, get the hell out of here. If you’re going to cry like a little boy who misses his daddy, go do it somewhere else.”
“Fuck you!” Eren screamed, and he stormed away. His boots came to a sharp stop right on the first step up the staircase. His shoulders shivered and his voice shook in rage, only barely holding back tears, as he muttered, “You probably hate me now.”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t a little,” Levi confessed, “but I also know you had no choice. If you had done that because you chose to, I would truly hate you. Instead, you’re still a good kid forced to do a bad thing. It was my choice that you did it, and it was on my terms. I’ll live with that decision.”
Eren turned around again, and his lower lip quivered. “I still don’t understand why.”
Levi let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t get it either,” he admitted softly. “Why do you want to help me?”
Eren’s eyes dropped to the ground. “Be- … Because … I … I…” He fled, stomping up the staircase, running away from the question.
Levi stared ahead with hard eyes that had a sort of deadness. The pain was only barely tolerable, and it took all of his focus to stay on his feet through those hours of interrogation. Annie had noticed and even asked if he was okay. He had merely replied that she should worry about her own life, not his.
No one should worry about his life.
He had survived this long watching out primarily for himself. He had let friends and fellow Jews die so that he would not gain the sort of attention that could get him killed along with them.
Why had he been so stubborn with the whipping? He could have sobbed after five lashes and saved himself. Instead, knowing the others were about to get whipped, seeing the women savagely stripped of their blouses, hearing their shrieks, watching the mob of Germans laughing and mocking them, he had hoped his naturally high pain tolerance would save the rest from facing the lash. It worked too. More than half of their group escaped punishment.
He had only surrendered his pride because he knew this young man should not be turned into a monster like the others. He withstood enough to make Eren look good, enough until he figured out how a flogger really worked, but ended it at ten lashes.
Levi could have withstood more, but he did not want Eren to lose his humanity. Surrounded by violence and hatred, it was a miracle the young man had gone this long without succumbing to darkness.
No, maybe not a miracle. There was the tiny soldier, the one with medical knowledge. Levi could tell that he was also one of the good men who just happened to be on the wrong side of the war.
Maybe Eren simply had the right friends. He hoped so! A soldier needed friends like that to keep sane and humane through the Hell on Earth called WAR.
# # #
# #
#
There is historical precedence for the German Wehrmacht using cat-o-nine-tail whips as a form of punishment, including some being discovered in German trenches, presumably used to keep shell-shocked soldiers in line. Longtime fans of my stories know that I have a fascination with whips and own many different types, but this time I'm showing how brutal they can be when used purely for punishment.
Spiritus, or rectified spirits, is a highly concentrated ethanol alcohol. It was part of a medical kit for German soldiers. Burns like hell! But it does disinfect.
In field medical kits of World War II, the suture needle and thread (made of either silk or catgut) were kept in a tiny glass vial, sometimes filled with alcohol to ensure sterilization.
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dangerous Territory