Delaehla: Imogen Simone Boehm was born on April 12th 1929, the German child had been the first, and only daughter to the Maximilian Theodore Degen, however she was the illegitimate bastard of a love affair with an actress named Magdalene Bianca Boehm, a famous German opera singer during the height of the Third Reich. Imogen's father was a renown scientist who was a part of the esteemed Deutsche Physik scientists. Imogen lived a tumultuous existence, and the girl often had to remain hidden from her mother's countless suitors, and sordid love affairs. It was with some degree of luck that at age 13 her mother happened upon one gentlemen who found that the young Imogen was quite the pretty young lady, and could soon follow in her mother's footsteps. Magdalene, however, was a slightly unstable woman mentally whom had come to rely heavily upon methamphetamines, and Russian Vodka. Upon hearing that her daughter might be on the up-and-coming she grew very envious and began shouting accusations, and insinuations at Imogen. It was her belief that girl must be trying to win over or steal away her attentions. Magdalene was a notoriously vain woman, and insanely jealous when need be. Even towards her own daughters.
Luckily for Imogen's younger half-sister, Martine she had been the daughter of this very man whom their mother now pitted against the two. The events which gave way to the history of this murderous tale were etched into fate long before either of them took a single breath. At the ages of 17, and 16 years old Martine and Imogen were both brutally raped, and murdered by their infamous mother, Magdalene. The murder itself was no shock, but the reanimation of the two girls was even more so.
Imogen could forsee that her mother was growing more and more demented by the day, and with every evening fall she wondered if she would not find her dead or near it upon entering her bed chambers. Martine, of course, was much more protected than Imogen being that Imogen did her very best to always make sure that her younger sister was safe above all else. On March 21, 1942 Martine and Imogen would awake just like any other day, and begin their chores of readying for the day today would not be like any other day. Today would be the day that they died.
The odd thing about dying is that you never know when it is going to happen. You never wake up, and say 'Oh, today is the day I am going to croak.' It just...happens.
And that is exactly what happened to the Boehm girls. Imogen awoke bright and early to find the day was cold, clouded, dreary even. A typical day in December for the Germans. Imogen heard the faint sound of snoring in her mother's room as she snuck by to rouse her baby sister, Martine. The Operahouse had penthouse suites on the top floor a velvet red carpet ran down the center. Rooms were spaced with doors on either side about five feet apart. Imogen knew to be quiet in the early mornings because the other actors, and their companions were usually asleep at this time.
Fate as you would have it decided to play a wicked game with the young femme. Amidst stride she had found herself in the middle of the aisle, and then the fourth door on the right flew open, and outstepped a man. It was him. The man her mother had been seeing for sometime, but was not yet her stepfather.
Imogen sucked in a breath she was terrified of waking her mother, and suffering her wrath before school. Imogen gulped slightly as her eyes captured the imagery of what he was doing her mind began to reel in fear. His hands were upon his pants, and the button at the top of them was what he appeared to be attempting to seal. His belt jingled slightly as he pulled the strap through the buckle, and proceeded to adjust his pants. She could hear the faint sound of Martine crying. What had been going on in her sister's room that morning? Anger took hold of her, and she balled up her fists before running down the hallway and screaming in his face, "You bastard! What did you DO to her!" She ran into the man at full speed and began to pound her fists into his chest angrily. He simply took hold of her with an evil chuckle venomous words fleeing his lips, "I fucked her just like I'm going to fuck you. Only I think I want that little piece of ass instead." He pulled her against him his breath were vile, and rancid she felt like she would vomit if he did not get out of her face it was then that he lowered his hungry lips to hers in a violently sadistic kiss. Imogen shrieked loudly upon his kiss her mouth parted to his, but only but only long enough to bite the shit out of his lower lip. He scowled throwing her to the ground as she successfully bit deep into the flesh causing a trail of blood to flow down over his chin and onto down his neck.
