It was another chilling evening of 1935 in Berlin. The streets were nearly deserted and the few people who walked by did so with no or little chattering even the automobiles that plied the streets seemed to share in the solemn silence. It had been so ever since Paul von Hindenburg died a year before. The death of the president had led to the ultimate takeover of power by Hitler and the Nazi Party; a political metamorphosis that plunged the already troubled state into a frenzy of racial and anti-semitic executions. A day never passed without these streets witnessing life getting snuffed out of men, women and children for the 'crime' of having a black skin or Jewish blood running through their veins.
Lina leaned on her husband, doing her best to stifle her sobs as they walked away from the scene of yet another murder. It had only been ten minutes since they witnessed the shooting of Bartholomew, the Jewish septuagenarian who ran the bakery downtown, by men of the Kriminalpolizei. They were made to watch it. All civilians had to. It was the patriotic thing to do. At least, that was what the Nazi government decreed. Hitler had vowed to exterminate every 'impure' blood living in Germany and it was only just the beginning.
It was the third execution Lina had witnessed that week and it was just Tuesday. Only God knew how many more murders were to unfold that week. She had screamed when the shot rang out. Jurgen had snuggled her as they watched the lifeless body of the poor old man hit the ground with a thudding sound. And now she feared the gestapo could pull them aside for questioning at any moment. Somehow, they made it all the way home.
"Jurgen, I can't... We can't do this anymore. We've got to talk," a troubled Lina said, shrieking as they entered into their home.
"Talk, but to whom, Lina? They are our friends, remember? We just can't turn them in like that," Jurgen whispered, equally troubled.
"But what if people find out? We could be killed for sabotaging the orders of the Führer!" she burst into tears.
Jurgen drew her into his arms, kissed her on the head and rubbed her arms as though he was trying to rub off her fright literally.
"Shhh.. It's going to be okay. We'll figure it out. It'll be over soon," he lied, for he had no idea how much longer the killings would continue or how much longer they could keep harbouring the Jewish family hiding in the basement of their home.
"I'm scared, Jurgen. I'm really sc... Jurgen!" Lina gasped as she caught sight of a silhouette of a figure by the window.
"Who's there?" she queried, pointing to the window just as the figure retreated.
Jurgen, taking the cue, ran to the door, flung it open and ran after the eavesdropper while his wife just stood there, confounded. After a brief moment of pursuit, he returned with an unconscious captive.
"Oh my God!" Lina screamed as soon as she recognized the seemingly lifeless body of their neighbour, Günther. He had a reputation of being a diehard supporter of Hitler and had even been rumoured to be a Gestapo operative.
"Is he dead? Did you kill him?"
"No, Lina. I just knocked him unconscious," Jurgen assured her.
Moments later, Günther, whose hands were now bound to his back, woke to find the couple mumbling in a sort of argument. They stopped to face him as soon as they heard him groaning. Jurgen walked over to him and grabbed his tweed coat lapel, "Günther, why were you spying on us?"
"Are you both crazy? What's all this? Let me loose at once!" retorted Günther.
"Tell me, Günther. What did you hear?" Jurgen asked again.
"Enough to know that you're harbouring Jews in your home! You must really be crazy," Günther yelled with anger written all over his face.
"Please, you have to promise that you won't tell anyone about this, Günther. An innocent family will be murdered if you do," Lina said, pleadingly.
"And betray my own fatherland?" Günther spat on her face. "Never, I'll rather die first!"
"See, I told you, he can't be reasoned with. He's too blinded by hate," Jurgen said to his wife.
"You know," Günther said, secretly struggling to get his hands loose behind him. "I've always suspected you two to be up to something. But I never imagined you'd betray Germany, you saboteurs! You'll betray your own fatherland for some impure Je..."
Just before Günther could finish, Jurgen jabbed him in the belly with his right fist, thereby cutting him short in his statement, "we have to do it!" Jurgen said, looking at his wife.
Lina shut her eyes, as their hostage cringed in pain, she had rebuked her husband earlier when he suggested that they had to do it. Do it? She had seriously hoped it didn't have to come to that.
"No, wait," she moved closer to Günther, looking him in the eyes, "please, be reasonable, Günther."
"Never!"
Just in that minute, Günther managed to free his hands from the rope with which they had been tied. But before she could guess, he had landed a slap on the woman's face and pounced on Jurgen, throwing him to the floor as he began to strangle him. Lina watched in fright as her husband gasped for breath under the murderous weight of Günther. In that moment, she ran to a corner of the room and back. At that instant, Günther fell to the ground with a knife sticking out of his back as a tearful Lina helped her husband off the floor.
This is my now edited entry to The Ink Well Summer Contest. Word count is 951.
A great big thanks to 
I made use of the 28th log line: A couple in Nazi Germany who have been hiding Jews in their basement suddenly realize that their neighbors are spying on them.
