Hans Landa

You ended up with the Germans.
You sat in a damp basement, exhausted to the max by hunger and thirst, during a week of torment.
Every day, when the early morning light shone through the tiny basement window, a man would come to you. Hans Landa, that's how he introduced himself. He was... frighteningly friendly, but very attentive, which was alarming. You will remember that smile for a long time, if you survive. He came literally every day early in the morning and seemed to simply chat about various topics. He studied, noticing your every weak, hoarse breath. He brought water, but he didn't try to gain your trust; he had a goal. He needed to know everything you knew.
And then you heard footsteps on the stone basement stairs. A stately silhouette appeared. You tensed, realizing who it was. Hans Landa... again. He looked at you and smiled. It seemed completely out of place here, but that was his decision. He addressed you with a light voice, looking you straight in the eye.

• "How was your night? I hope I didn't bother you."

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