Beauty and the Beast

Fallen Angel

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." You were sitting on your bed, still in full uniform minus your shiny black shoes, your cap tilted at a rakish angle.
I kept my eyes glued to my feet, trying to conceal the fact that I was shaking in my high heeled shoes.
"Come sit here." You moved over a little, making space next to you.
Don't resist them. Resisting will only get you into trouble.
"You're quite the rare specimen," you said. "I've seen lots of girls in my life, but none of them are half as pretty as you are."
You began to run your fingertips up and down my bare arm. I cringed, unfortunately a bit too visibly and you laughed.
"What, you're afraid of me? Trust me, Sophie, if you play by my rules and make me happy, you shall have all that your heart desires and more besides."
"I just want to go home," I managed.
"Ach, forget about that for now," you said, your large, spidery hand twining its fingers with mine. "How old are you, seventeen? Eighteen? I could make your every wish come true if you conform to my standards."
"I can go home then?" I asked expectantly.
You looked irritated. "Need I spell it out for you? This is your home now. You're going to stay here and be with me forever, do you understand?"
I stared at him. "I don't want to."
You threw your head back and laughed, an evil, ugly laugh that carried no mirth whatsoever. I cringed, my mind spinning. I could clearly see I was dealing with a cold hearted, cold blooded womanizer with no regard at all for what I wanted.
"My dear, you're not using your brain." You ran a hand down my face so tenderly it may as well been interpreted as an endearing gesture had it come from anyone but you. "You haven't done anything wrong. But you Czechs are mine, mine to do with whatever I wish. The inferior races serve the superior race, do they not?"
"And after I'm done here, I can go home?" I don't even know why I asked that.
Your expression morphed into one of fury. "You stupid Czech bitch. How many times do I have to tell you? This is your home now. You'll stay here and do everything I tell you. Is that understood?"
I could feel my eyes filling with tears. All I wanted was to fulfill whatever purpose I had to in this room and go home to my mother. She was probably worried sick by now, especially after what Libena and Maria would have told her.
I wasn't about to cry in front of you, though. I was so busy trying to suppress my tears that I didn't even bother to nod. You seemed to take my silence as an affirmative and cleared your throat authoritatively.
"Stop sniveling, now. I didn't bring you here to hear you cry. Stand up and take your clothes off."
My blood turned to ice. Suddenly, everything made sense—the bath, the nice dress, the makeup. Your questions about my father and my nonexistent boyfriend. You were ticking things off your list, Reinhard, so that you could be confident no one would give you any trouble.
Who would, though? No one dared to defy you for fear of the savage reprisals that were sure to follow.
"I haven't got all night." You looked absentmindedly at your watch. "Do as you're told."
And then I did something stupid. I decided to beg you to let me go.
"Don't do this," I said, staring into your emotionless blue eyes. "I'll do anything else you want, everything else you want, but please don't make me do this."
I was grasping at straws at that point, and for a while, your silence gave me false hope.
Then you slowly reached beneath the pillow and drew out a Parabellum pistol and pointed it directly at my head.
"My dear Sophie Whatever Your Last Name Is," you said dismissively. "Let this be your first lesson about me as a person. I have no need for those who do not obey me. I also have no need for the family of those who do not obey me. If you want to live, and if you do not want to posthumously condemn your family to the gas chambers, I suggest you follow orders and take your clothes off."
Numb with fear and literally shaking with horror, I did as you asked, slowly, methodically, feeling all my pride and self esteem and self worth shrinking with each passing minute.
You watched from where you were sitting, staring at me blankly. The silence was terrifying as I stood there in front of you, silent ribbons of tears coursing down my cheeks.
I had never kissed a boy, or dated one, or even had sex with one. And yet now here I was completely naked before a man I didn't even know.
"Why are you crying?" You weren't doing a good job of sounding concerned. "Aren't you used to this already?"
I was ashamed and disgusted, Reinhard. Did I really stand so low in your eyes that you thought I was a whore?
"No." My voice came out a rasp, but you heard it anyway.
"No?" You smirked, an evil, ugly smirk. "A pretty girl like you, having never laid with a man before?"
When I didn't say anything, you took your cap off and laid it on the table, followed by your Parabellum.
"Well, then, Lady Luck seems to have smiled upon me. Come here, my dear. Let's see how good you are."
You made me do things to you, Reinhard, horrible, awful things that to this day haunt my memory. And you did things to me that completely defiled me, corrupted me, totally debased me. I don't see how you derived any pleasure from what you did to me—and continued to do to me—that night. For me it was just agony and fear, merging to create a horrible cocktail inside of me that bubbled and seethed.
So many things happened that night...but I remember one of them vividly.
You were on top of me, sawing your hips back and forth over my now limp body, one hand firmly holding my jaws shut, the other holding my hair in an agonizing grip.
You threw your head back to surface from the euphoria you were slowly drowning in and removed your hand from my face.
"Scream all you want now," you said huskily. "The part where it would have been understandable for you to scream is over. The rest is all you now."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to give a voice to the agony ripping my body into pieces. But I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing you caused me so much pain. So I simply let my head drop to one side and stared at the photo of you, your wife, and your children, smiling and happy as can be, as you had your way with me.
You weren't satisfied after just that one time. You did it again after you rested for a little while, panting like a dying dog. And then you did it again after that. And again. And again. And again.
I couldn't move after you rolled off of me for the last time. It was almost like you had taken out all the years of your not being able to have a woman on me.
"Get up now," you hissed at me as you put your clothes on. "I cant have a filthy Czech whore sprawled in my bed when my wife comes in here."
So I did. With as much dignity as I could salvage, I forced myself to move off of your bed and put my clothes on. You watched me like a hawk, your gaze never leaving me once.
"I'll see you tomorrow," you said. "Sleep well."

I ask you again: why did you do that to me, Reinhard? Why?