The following interview was conducted September 17, 1945. Current whereabouts of the interviewee and interviewer are unknown. Present status of other possible scientists involved with the project unknown. FOIA requests on subject continually stonewalled. Attempts to contact German government turned down. Presume interviewee dead.
Prisoner: I worked…in the camps. A scientist, and I knew what I was doing. All the others claiming they felt guilt, they weren't really involved, Von Braun? *Harsh laughter* He was as bad as the rest.
Prisoner: Right, right. Anyway, I worked in the camps. I was there to assist in biological matters; amputation, vivisection, experimental surgery. We would come to the camps, set up, chose at random. They weren't people anyway after all, hard to feel guilt of any kind-
Interrogator: You're losing focus again. Do we have to remind you to keep focused?
Prisoner: Nein! I need to tell you everything, everything so that you understand what you're getting with this research!
Interrogator: Then start getting to a point.
Prisoner: *Sighs* One day, we were taken to Birkenau, the second part of Auschwitz. We were told to prepare for a specialized subject. I figured we were to experiment on some gypsies, maybe a Soviet prisoner or two.
Interrogator: You sound awfully calm about treating living people like test subjects.
Prisoner: The Reich said they were less than people. Who was I to question? The results we gained, the advancements we pushed? Those people died for a greater purpose.
Interrogator: I say they died to feed the ego of a wanna-be Napoleon with a stupid mustache and a god complex. If you want to become a part of this program you'd best start thinking that way too.
Prisoner: Old habits. Well, we dressed in our surgical gear, readied our equipment, and prepared for the operation. Only we were told to move the equipment and all appropriate items to a nearby concrete storage bunker.
Interrogator: This wasn't weird to you?
Prisoner: The camps had particular ways of operating. You did as you were told, no more no less. So being good little scientists, we gathered our gear and followed the guards. Those SS men, so stern.
*Sound of a gun being drawn*
Prisoner: Right, sorry. So, we had moved to the bunker, and saw two men waiting outside it. This was strange, of course, and we could only imagine the prisoner held inside. Was it someone gone mad? A maniac prisoner they wanted us to operate on, find some sort of physical defect with his still pulsing mind? The guards open the door…*Pause*
Interrogator: You were afraid?
Prisoner: Surprised is the proper word. Inside was a boy, small, with torn clothes and an eye scarred over. Pathetic thing, a Jew too. His nose, his ears, all Jewish. He looked up at us, and-
Interrogator: You knew something was wrong?
Prisoner: It's rude to interrupt. Yes, something was wrong. For a start, he looked fed. None of the prisoners were really fed, all had massive distended bellies and gaunt cheeks. Even the laborers were emaciated. But this boy, still looked like he'd eaten.
Interrogator: When did you realize it was a being?
Prisoner: I had some idea when we tried to anesthetize it. We waited twenty minutes, but he wouldn't fall to the ether. So we decided to simply start cutting. The presence of the armed guards inside did not help. But that wasn't the moment we realized it was a being, some are just born to be resistant to the gas. But when we started cutting through the flesh, the child didn't cry out, didn't scream.
Interrogator: You keep calling it a child.
Prisoner: It will always be a child. My mind always will see it as a child. It will never be anything but a child. Then it tried to get Dr. Vahlen to make the contract.
Interrogator: And that's when the guards shot him.
Prisoner: It was a surprise to say the least. The guards ordered us not to make the contract with it, and we knew, then, this was truly a special occasion.
Interrogator: So all the other lives you took were just window dressing.
Prisoner: They might as well have been- *Sound of a smack, prisoner shouts in pain* You wanted the truth! It could survive the vivisection, didn't even shout! When it knew that we knew, it tried desperately to make a contract, kept begging us to make one.
Interrogator: And how many were killed in total?
Prisoner: Two more doctors, and one of the guards. Four dead for trying to make the contract. I debated it myself, whispering it in my mind, but I knew better. The guards would have killed everyone in the room if it meant preventing a contract, and then we would have learned nothing.
Interrogator: So what did you learn?
Prisoner: They can perfectly emulate a human body. Every organ, every vessel, even the reproductive organs. But as it was a child, we had no chance to test out whether or not it could copulate, even if that copulation could lead to anything.
Interrogator: So what happened after the surgery?
Prisoner: The being was locked back in the bunker, and we were ordered to classify everything. I kept my own notes, though. That's why you need me.
Interrogator: So you found out what kills them?
Prisoner: I believe so.
Interrogator: "Believe"? Believe this, you aren't going to Argentina if you can't give us anything concrete.
Prisoner: Then I know that, since Kristallnacht, the creature had no master. Even though it had healed after the surgery, the closed wounds still bled, didn't heal properly when the stitches were put in.
Interrogator: You're saying it took seven years to kill this thing?
Prisoner: And there is only one way to do it. They shot it. They poisoned it. They cut it. They mutilated it, dunked it in acid, even detonated an artillery shell under it. To kill them with weapons takes too long, you must kill their spirits first. They must not have a master.
Prisoner:…Don't you have anything to say? I have other notes, data you can use-
Interrogator: You're a glorified kid with a scalpel that cut legs off what you saw as frogs. At least Von Braun can give us actual data, something to use against the Soviets. You can't even tell us how to kill a single masterless being. *Sound of a chair moving, hammer being cocked, gunshot* Get a bag in here, then send in the next one.