The Camp

It was a cold, crisp Sunday night. The sun just started to set in the east. The crisp wet dew started to mix in with the thick red blood on the grass just outside the camp. The rumbling of trains echoed through the hill sides. The thick black smoke poured above the hills. The setting sun blacked out and the clouds started to disappeared under the thick smoke.
The gates of the camp opened without fault. The rumbling got closer and the smoke got thicker. As the train entered the camp.
The train brakes squeaked and sparks were flying as the train stopped in the middle of the camp. Smoke stopped pouring out the train. Then  silence.
The train doors opened all at once, making a clang. The smell out of the cars grabbed everyone by the throats in and around the camp.
A dark sinister voice came over the camp and rang for days in every1 ears. The people started to climb out of the cars. Woman holding children, children holding bears.
Then the voice relay another command and the people, without fault or mind or thought spilt into different corners of the camp. All to the left of the train.
Smoke started to reappear coming out of the train and the brakes squeaked into life and the train moved backwards and out of sight.
The Schutzsttel stood there at there posts. Then the whole camp lit up, like the middle of the day. The noise shook ground for miles on end.
Then as the sun rose from the west that next morning. There was not a drip of fresh dew on the left side of the train tracks that wasn't tarnished with the blood of innocent people.