She could feel little ebbs and flowing of fear and pain from the tiny pouch at her mother's side. She could feel some fear pulsing out of several people above them, but it felt different. 

It was female. It had a sweeter 'scent' that was the only way she could describe it. It wasn't as fulfilling, which was at least partly gratifying in that moment. She could feel the fear of a boy somewhere nearby. He was hiding.

Someone else was wounded outside, she could feel their pain, she was absorbing it… and then there was a loud thump upstairs and the footsteps started to work their way along the short corridor upstairs and to the top of the stairs which were at a right angle to their dining room. 

Her mother gestured for them to hide next to the top stair flight before the quarter landing. 

They pressed themselves against the timber panelling, looking upwards, they wedged themselves right into the corner of the right angle of the staircase, to hide themselves for as long as possible. 

Unless someone looked over the banister or walked down the stairs, walked to the kitchen and looked back then they should stay hidden.   

They couldn't see anything up the stairs either, but they heard a heavy footstep on the top step and the slow creaking sound of a floorboard being put under the pressure of the soldiers bodyweight. 

"Ernst?" He called out from the top of the stairs in a thick German accent. He paused, waiting and listening. 

"Wolfgang?" He called out. He waited again. Then without hearing any reply Martyna could hear him fumbling with his rifle, she could hear the sling rattling as he positioned the rifle against his shoulder and then the mechanical working parts being cocked as he readied the rifle. 

She could hear the rifle rattling slightly from his shaking hands. 

There were some hushed German words explained at the top of the stairs landing. 

Martyna couldn't remember how many of them were up there. She was starting to tremble with fear again. 

Her mother reached down and gripped her hand and held her tightly, that helped her feel better. 

She could feel a few waves of anxiety washing off the soldiers upstairs. To even Martyna's own developing senses she could tell they were clearly very inexperienced and nervous soldiers.  

She also felt the pain, misery and suffering washing out from the women they held captive upstairs. 

"Ist anyone down in zere?" Another German voice spoke in very bad broken Polish. 

Martyna's mother looked at her and slowly raised an index finger to her lips. Be quiet, don't say anything, she silently insisted.

The soldiers exchanged further dialogue together, it was calm and then it sounded like an argument between them. 

Then they stopped and the sound of footsteps and wood creaking resumed as one of them started down the staircase. 

Several more footsteps joined the descent, it sounded like at least two of them were walking down the stairs, very slowly, rifles audibly shaking as they proceeded. 

Martyna tried to control her own shaking and her breathing. It felt like she was going to breathe so loud that they heard her. 

She tried to focus on her Life Force Well, just to picture how much energy she somehow had stored there.