Helmut Kürten & Nicola Hoffman
While the others were busy talking about why they had been chosen for this particular task, Nicola, the one who had told everyone she was 'cut in half with a saw,' sidled over to where Helmut was seated, sitting down opposite him without waiting for an invitation, "
Mister Kurten, if I heard your introduction correctly," she greeted him, "I had been going to ask what you make of Temple and his implied stories, but I figure that it would first be polite first to say it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance properly."
The man looked quite uncomfortable as the woman sat across from him, wiggling his body and eyes as he stared at the table below. "
It is nice to meet you, miss. I believe some of his stories, as I have had similar experiences.”
"
I'm inclined to believe there is more to this world than we would like to believe." She nodded in acceptance of what Helmut had said; she paused for a moment, cocking her head to one side as she studied him, "
Is something the matter?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned despite having only met Helmut a few minutes ago.
It was as if when she addressed her concern, he clenched his fist. An image flashed in his head. This image was of something attacking his regime. Big puddles of blood. Loud screaming echoed in his head. His brothers were in arms, crying for their mothers. The men crawling, trying to escape. And finally, the image of himself covered in blood clenched in his hands was his trench knives. Killing the turned soldiers that wanted to attack him. Clenching his hand hard enough that a trickle of blood flowed down her hand. His sharp eyes moved towards Nicola. "
It's nothing. I do agree that there are many things out there besides man." Smiling softly and unclenching his hand. Using a handkerchief to wipe the blood.
"
It is something." Nicola said with a reassuring smile. "
But I also realize I am a stranger. So, what do you bring to our little group? You are a soldier, so you can handle a weapon, I imagine, but most of the men in Germany can handle it. You aren't one of those Freikorps boys, are you?" She asked. Her tone hint suggested that the paramilitary groups made her nervous.
"
I have firearms, hand-to-hand combat skills, and survival skills that could prove useful in the wild. As well as being a skilled tactician in combat." While rattling on about what skills he brings to the team, he forgot to mention his skill in handling a flamethrower. He didn't want to say it, as the image of him setting fire to British soldiers and their screams was something he wanted to forget. He hoped one day, he could forget their screams and the smell of burnt flesh. "
No, I was in the 54th Infantry Division." Once again, his hand clenched into a fist. Feeling anxious that somehow she knew about his killing during the war.
"
So you didn't sign up with one after the war?" she asked rhetorically, as she didn't give time for a reply, "
Well, that's good." she gave a relieved sigh, "
I feel like I need to keep my head down whenever you see them around."
"
No, I did not." He responded before continuing to speak. "
I am a painter." Once again, he relaxed his hand but was now staring at the table before him.
Nicola looked a little surprised at that, "
An artist or a house painter?" she asked.
"
An artist." He responded while staring at the table. Some of his work has not been made public because of the disturbing nature of his drawings.
"
Interesting." this seemed to have piqued Nicola's curiosity. She leaned forward, resting her chin on the palm of her hand, "Mind if I ask what you paint?"
Again, he clenched his fist tightly. He didn't want to disturb her with the subject of his paintings. "
I mostly paint whatever I am dreaming about, or occasionally I will try portraits of people." The money got from portraits was standard and paid quite well. The ones from his dreams, however, were very violent and horrific.
Nicola laughed. "
Well, if Mr Temple pays us enough, maybe you can paint mine... or half of it at any rate, as I doubt I can afford the full fee!" She grinned, placing her horizontally across her face on the bridge of her nose. "
What do you think? Should I get the top half or the bottom half painted?"
Blushing on what she said. He shook his head, smiling at her. "
I can halve my price so it can be affordable. What you want to be painted is up to you." Again, relaxing his hand before feeling a tinge of pain running through his amputated leg. Gritting his teeth, trying to ignore the pain.
She gave a small smile, the playfulness tinged with a hint of melancholy for a moment: "
My father would have loved me to sit for a portrait. Sadly, there wasn't much left after 1918. " She gave Helmut a thoughtful look though there was a sparkle of mischief in her dark eyes. She'd noticed the blush: "
I think it's over to the artist to decide how to get the best out of a muse. I'd be entirely in your hands!"
Cowritten with
@Dyelli Beybi 
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