The Hollowing

By Travis Tufo

A depressed Markus finds himself struggling to find purpose in life. All the while his homeland of Germany inches towards war. Before he reaches his breaking point he is visited by two German soldiers informing him that his specialty with the human mind is required to help aid a special project Hitler has brewing. He complies, hoping he has found a purpose, but soon learns what true evil awaits for him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Travis Tufo
• Release date: Nov 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311246677

Travis Tufo

Travis has decided to become a policeman. Until he is old enough to go into the police academy he has decided to put pen to paper. His first offering is Red Sky.

Book preview

The Hollowing

The Hollowing

Travis Tufo

©2014 Devil Dog Press LLC

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead, or otherwise, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author or Devil Dog Press LLC.

Printed in the U.S.A.

Dedications: Thank you to my beta-readers, Kimberly Sansone and Joy Buchanan and to the first responders and men and women of the armed forces, you have my admiration and respect for all the sacrifices you endure to keep us all safe

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter One

The sound of birds chirping outside, mixed with the sun’s warmth coming through the window on Markus’ skin, was enough to gently wake him from his slumber. He slowly opened his eyes to his plain white room and gave a large sigh as if he was disappointed to be there. He grabbed the covers and, pulling them aside, moved his body so that he was sitting at the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off. He sat there for a while looking out his window. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining, the weather was a little chilly, and the sound of children playing outside would seem to be a perfect start to anybody’s morning.

Markus, finally having enough of sitting at the edge of his bed, set his feet on the floor. They were met by the cold touch of wooden flooring. He didn’t mind the chilling touch, though, as he was used to it. It was part of his every day morning ritual.

Markus headed for his bathroom to brush his teeth. On the way, he stopped to take a peek at his calendar to see if anything important was scheduled for the day. It was September 1, 1939, nothing important was scheduled. It was going to be another average day at work.

Markus was a wealthy middle aged man, known all around Berlin for being a famous psychiatrist. He was renowned for helping people block out hurtful memories, helping the mentally challenged with learning, and even known to completely change the personality of certain people. To some people he was a good man, to others he was a godsend, but to no one was he a bad man.

His average day consisted of walking to his office, where he would listen to the problems of others. He would strengthen patients to the point where they were able to make their own decisions and ask them questions about their past just like any other psychiatrist. However, with Markus, he would often take it upon himself and devote his entire professional life to his patients until they felt as if he had served them well enough to help with whatever problem they may have possessed. Listening to heart wrenching problems from people everyday such as being abused as a child, to deep seeded resentment towards mommy or daddy, to patients considering suicide a valid life choice; all this had left Markus with chronic depression. He no longer showed emotions the way a normal human should; he didn’t smile as much as someone who had helped so many would. It was quite rare to see him crack a joke or even laugh with others.

He was, once, happily married to his wife, Kelsey, who was a preschool teacher right down the street from his work. He had truly loved his time with her. Kelsey loved the marriage equally as much but decided to leave him when it became apparent that they were never going to conceive a baby together.

Markus, still being madly in love with Kelsey, was devastated when she left one day out of the blue. He came home, to his house, expecting to see his loving wife there as he did every day. Instead, when he opened the door to his home, he was confronted by a letter on the table. The letter didn’t say much other than how sorry she was for doing this to him, how she truly did love him but wanted a child much more than being with him without a child, and how he really should have saw it coming. He always found himself getting stuck on the part where she said he should have seen it coming. To Markus their relationship was so great, but to her, in a way, it must have deteriorated over time.

Kelsey had quickly moved on as she needed someone to keep her financially secure. She found a new man within two months, someone who could succeed where Markus had failed in conceiving a baby. Markus never moved on and was forced to walk by Kelsey’s new life, and home, every day and see her playing with her little baby boy, Tommy, outside of the preschool everyday as he went to work. The beautiful sight of a loving mother playing with her happy, healthy baby was enough to make anyone smile—anyone but Markus, who could only cringe at the sight. Tommy was such a young, beautiful, and innocent child who meant no harm to anyone but couldn’t be hated more by Markus.

Finishing with his shower, Markus stepped out and reached for his towel but it wasn’t there. He thought he must have left it down stairs in the dryer he had just bought. Thinking nothing of the situation, he stepped naked out of the bathroom and proceeded to walk downstairs to where his washing machine and dryer were. Simply owning these machines truly showed how much money Markus was making. As he passed his living room, he heard a faint sound coming from within that he couldn’t make out. He stopped dead in his tracks and poked his head in the room to discover nothing out of the ordinary. He entered the room, feeling a slight surge of adrenaline. He quickly figured out what the sound was; it was his radio. He must have left it on before going to bed the night before.

He walked over to shut it off, but before he could, he heard the German national anthem playing. Curious as to why that would be playing, he bent down and turned the volume up. He listened long enough to be informed that Germany had just invaded Poland. He was angry that Germany could make such a bold move after its previous faults in war. He picked the radio up and felt as if he was going to throw it. His anger was fueled by the fact that his father died in World War I. Marcus had never supported the war in the first place, and he still had to suffer its end result. However, he didn’t think this new war would really affect him. He believed that, when the draft came around, he would easily get out of it, as he was a famous psychiatrist. The draft tended to affect the lower classes more. He figured he could easily get out of it if the situation arose.

After listening to the radio for a few more minutes, he realized he was still naked. He put the radio down, this time making sure to shut it off, and headed for his closet where he would throw on his usual suit and tie. He slicked his blonde hair back as he did everyday and adjusted his tie in the mirror until it was perfect.

He leaned into the mirror closely and stared into his dark brown eyes for a few minutes. He gave a heavy sigh, disappointed once more, in nothing in particular, just in general. He proceeded to walk out of the bathroom and head for the front door. As he walked down the stairs and took a step for the front door, once again, he heard a noise in his living room. Curious, he went to investigate. He was confronted with his radio playing German propaganda. This sent a chill through his body. He knew that he had turned the radio off this time.

Markus slowly walked up to the radio just as the announcer was speaking about Germany’s preparation for war. He heard the announcer say, What can you do for your country? As the sentence finished, Markus unplugged the radio and turned toward the front door, this time successfully making it out of his house unhindered.

From there on out, Markus’ day was as it was every day. He passed the usual kids playing with a ball in front of their house, the same bird’s nest with a lovely bluebird sitting outside of it while feeding its young, and the same bright blue sky, which seemed to be waiting for him each day. When he finally entered town he, of course, once again, walked by Kelsey outside the preschool playing with her young boy who was just learning how to walk. Any other person in his situation would have found another route to work by now, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to see her. Markus gave a weak smile and waved, but as soon as he passed Kelsey, his expression quickly turned into a scowl, the complete opposite of the young, smiling Tommy behind him.

Upon reaching his office, Ms. Schweizer greeted him; an elderly lady who suffered from split personality disorder. Lucky for Markus, today Ms. Schweizer was expressing her hateful personality known as Hannah. Markus spent the next hour listening to Hannah tell him about all the things she hated in the world; how lonely and pathetic she felt Markus had become since his wife left. He busied himself doing paperwork through her rant. The words she spoke to him seemed to enter his void of depression and have no effect on him.

When Ms. Schweizer’ time was up, she went on her merry way home like nothing had ever happened. On his way home Markus got to enjoy more quiet and lovely views of the setting sun.

Over the next five months Markus’ days would continue on almost exactly the same as the day before it. Minus the radio incident, changes in the color of leaves, snow, and the occasional switch in coffee he decided to drink that day, it was all the same. Day after day flew by, each of which seemed to build up and create a deeper pit of depression for Markus. He didn’t attend any New Year’s parties, build any snowmen with the neighborhood children, or even take the time to celebrate Christmas. However, this day—February 1, 1940—would be the day that completely changed Markus’ life.

He woke up the same as he did any morning, but this time it wasn’t to any birds chirping or any children playing next door. He didn’t even notice that the usual sounds weren’t coming from outside as he sat up in his bed, dangling his legs over the side as he did every morning. This morning seemed immediately different, and instead of giving a big stretch and a sigh, he began to weep slightly completely out of the blue. A few tears at first, like all of his built up depression finally broke through the seemingly unbreakable bottle he kept them in. He moved his hand toward his face to wipe the tears, only to weep harder. Tears flowed from his face. He was fed up with what his life had become. To most, the job he had, and the home he lived in, would have been considered a successful life but not to Markus. He pictured himself in a perfect family with a loving wife and beautiful little kids running around, but instead, he lived alone and going nowhere in life.

Today is the day, he said aloud.

Chills streamed through his body as he quietly spoke his poison. He headed downstairs to his coat closet. Most people would have probably thought that what he meant was that today was the day he was going to head out to find a woman to fall in love with. Or perhaps that today was the day he was going to turn his life around and become happy again…to find meaning. However, he meant that today was the day he was going to end his misery the coward’s way with nothing but a brass bullet to his brain. This was his plan to fix everything.

In his closet, on the middle floor of his house, past all of his coats, he kept a small Ruger pistol with one bullet in the chamber. Was this one bullet for personal defense? No. It was the one bullet that he had gotten the day after his wife left him, to someday end all his pain if needed. He had never felt bold enough to actually pull the trigger, though he had tried many times. Today, something clicked in his mind. He’d had enough and was ready to end it all.

He threw the closet doors open and flung coats out of the way, revealing the small sidearm that could potentially be the ticket to end his suffering. He grabbed it, and as he did, he felt the cold touch of the steel grab him back. He was in the gun’s grasp as much as it was in his. The gun felt so right in his hand but in a dark way.

Holding it tightly in his hand, he observed it before he took it to the kitchen. He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. There he was, staring into the barrel of his pistol as if it was telling him the meaning of life itself. One tear began to fall from his face. As he lifted the gun up toward his head, it felt like he was