Beauty and the Beast

The Blond Beast

"I want to know for what crime this is for." I could only find my voice after we had been driving for what seemed like hours. "I haven't done anything wrong."
For a while, no one spoke. My words seemed to bounce and echo
"That will be for Reichsprotektor Heydrich to decide." The SS man who had spoken was the same one who had taken my name and address.
The idea of being at your mercy terrified me. This was the same person who had promptly executed 420 Czechs the day of his appointment as Deputy Reichsprotektor. At the same time, this was the same person who increased wages for the workers in factories and even made visits to the factories himself to incite them to work harder.
I felt like my heart was going to pop out of my chest the longer we drove. I could feel my pelvic muscles loosening to the point where I was scared I was going to piss myself, and my stomach was churning like a bottle of water being vigorously shaken.
We drove through a wrought iron gate flanked by saluting soldiers, and into the courtyard of a hulking chateau. I was starting to shake now, my feet trembling in my high heels.
The SS men hauled me unceremoniously out of the car and marched me up to an imposing mahogany door. I struggled to match their strides in my agonizing shoes.
My heels clacked erratically on the tile as they led me down a series of hallways and up flights of stairs until we got to a door marked "Geheime Staatspolizei".
The man on my right rapped sharply on the door three times, then pressed his ear to the wood. Seconds later, he pushed the door open and I was being shoved into a small office about the size of my room at home.
You looked up from a stack of papers you were perusing, and a hungry, cold smile spread across your face.
"It's so good to see you again, my dear," you said, setting your papers down and gesturing to the chair opposite yourself. "Please, make yourself comfortable. You'll be here for quite a while."
I did as you said, stiffly sitting in the upholstered leather chair. A slow moving wave of terror was slowly crashing over me, riveting my limbs to the floor. I felt like at any second I was going to throw up all over the pristine white floor.
"So tell me about yourself." Your voice was buttery and smooth, like artisan leather. "Then again, there's nothing that I don't know about you, but humor me."
I pressed my lips together. "What do you want to know about me?" My voice was shaking so badly I was mispronouncing most of the German words.
"Where is your father?" You suddenly sounded wary, although I didn't know why at the time.
I know now, though, Reinhard. You didn't want to deal with an angry father demanding that action be taken against you for raping his daughter.
"He's dead." To this day, I'm ashamed at myself for telling you the truth. If I had lied, would things have turned out the way they did?
Then again, you told me that there was nothing about me that you didn't know already. To lie would have certainly resulted in unpleasant consequences.
"May he Rest In Peace." You sounded so sarcastic that if you weren't Reinhard Heydrich I would have slapped you across the face.
You sounded equally wary when you asked me, "Are you seeing anyone?"
Was I? I shook my head.
A big smile split your lips, and you leaned back with satisfaction, steepling your fingers before you.
"That will be all, gentlemen," you said to the two SS men flanking me. "I'll see you soon, my dear."
My escorts heaved me out of the chair and to my feet. I ignored the stab of pain that accompanied each step as I made my way to the door.
That pain was nothing compared to what I would have to endure a few hours later.