Kindern Aus Mengele
My name is Ash.
My brother's name is Asheron. But it is I who speaks, not he. He is quieter even then I, and I am not known for my words.
But I will try to speak here.
I live in a camp, by a river. The river is ice-cold and the water is pale blue-grey. We of the Compound (as it is also called) live relatively quiet lives. We live in cells (in a barracks area), some shareing their cells. (They do not share their cells out of a lack of space, but more for comfort. Those who do so are general siblings or somehow related. Often they are twins or triplets etc. We have many sets of those here).
There were more of us here, once. There are several mass graves, and places where the ash from the ovens still drifts. There are ghosts, in some places. Not the transparent, howling shades from cinemas, but ghosts of what is past and gone. . . They do not bother us, for the most part, but they disturb some Outlanders.
I do not really care what others say: we are not shades of someone else's past, we are not ghosts of a war we did not live in. We are simply ourselves.
I can give you a small tour of this Compound (there are at least two others, and we count their residents with us as part of the same "group" or tribe, though we do not always have much contact with them), if you wish. . .
Here is the small bridge over the river (it is pale, broken concrete). Be careful not to fall into the water: it will chill you to the bone in an instant, and likely you are not used to it. We can bathe in the waters here, and some of us do, but even we do not swim in them. (others of us: Asheron, 75310, 828, boar, 24813 and others)