Beauty and the Beast

The Cross

Anna came to visit me during my impromptu stay at the sanatorium, Axelina in tow. I wasn't able to say much, due to the stupefying effect of the brandy the nuns at the hospital were constantly imbibing me with, but when I could, all I wanted from her was to keep her mouth shut and not go blabber to my mother what was going on.

You came to visit me as well, simply to psychologically unhinge me even more. You would sit on the edge of my bed after sending all the medical personell out of the room and talk to me in that smooth, syrupy voice of yours. You would tell me how cold the other side of your bed was without me; you would tell me how much you missed me at night and how you can't sleep because you're so used to whiling the nights away rolling in the sheets with me--a girl whom you force to please you. Your hand on my face the whole time didn't help matters, either.

Then, as tender and solicitous as you could be, there were days when you would show me the ugly side that I had seen far too many times. You would rage at the doctors treating me, demanding that they simply sew me up and bring me back to the palace. You wouldn't be placated no matter how they tried to explain to you that it wasn't a matter of "sewing something up".

"I cannot understand why you can't simply take a needle and some suture thread to her and send her back to me," you said. I was half expecting you to stamp your foot like a petulant child.

"Herr Obergruppenfuhrer, with all due respect, the girl is in no need of such a procedure. Her body simply must heal from the internal injuries she has suffered."

You looked indignant. "I want her back at the castle immediately if she's in no danger of dying from them."

The doctor could only nod. "Jawohl, Herr Obergruppenfuhrer."

"Get out now; I must speak to the girl in private."

I could see them exchanging worried glances as they trooped obediently out of the room. On the inside, I was screaming, Don't leave me! Don't leave me! but an order was an order. My heart sank when the door slammed shut.

You strode over to me and leaned against the rails of the bed, looking down at me intently, daring me to meet your gaze.

"My, my, they've been treating you like a princess here, haven't they?"

I fixed my stare on an imaginary point above your right shoulder.

You stared at me for so long that when you finally slapped me, it took me completely by surprise. I was caught totally off guard by the explosion of pain throughout my face, amplified by my surprise.

"Why won't you get better?" you snarled, grabbing me by the front of my hospital gown and shaking me so savagely my teeth rattled. "Is this some sort of trick you've had up your sleeve to get away from me?"

I was crying now, tears streaming down my cheeks and rolling down my neck. You slapped me again, staring down at me in disgust.

"You lying, conniving Czech whore!" you spat. "How dare you?"

"This isn't a trick, I swear it isn't." I was full on babbling now, spewing string after string of nonsense. I was so convinced you were going to take out your Parabellum and blow my brains out. "They said I have severe internal bleeding and it'll take me a while to heal so I should lie here and try to relax for now until--"

"They told you you were bleeding on the inside?" Your lips curled into a sardonic smirk. "You poor dear. Well, all cuts heal eventually, don't they. What do you say we see how much you've improved? Surely you've already started to heal."

You squeezed my thigh with such force it made me flinch. But it was the look in your eyes, not the gesture, lewd as it was, that made me want to throw up.

"You wouldn't," I said, panic beginning to rise inside of me. "Not here."

"What's going to stop me?" You gave me a look that was pure salaciousness. "You mean so much to me, Sophie, do you know that? I can't tell you how many women I've seen and been with in my life. You put them all to shame, do you know that?"

That sort of praise is something every girl loves to hear, nonetheless from a man. You were not just "any man" to me, Reinhard. As Untermensch as I was to you because I was a Czech, you were Untermensch to me because you were a Nazi.

"You won't be here for long," you said, running a hand down my face. "You'll get better, and you'll be back at the Jungfern-Breschan before you know it."

You bent your head to mine and kissed me full on the lips. Your mouth was soft, and warm, and for a moment I almost forgot who you were.

"I will tell you something, Sophie," you said as you strode to the door. "When you do come home, you will be very sorry you did."

You left. The doctors and nurses came back and resumed their work. I was utterly silent, not uttering a word or shedding a tear the entire time, but somehow, one of the nuns there seemed to notice my distress. As they were leaving, she bent and made the sign of the cross above my head, then kissed my forehead.

"Take this with you when you go back to where you came from," she said to me, looping her long crucifix necklace around my wrist multiple times and laying the cross in my palm, curling my fingers around it. "It will give you strength when you have none, and hope where there is none."

You laughed at me when I walked into your office the day I was discharged from the hospital, the necklace looped around my wrist. You said I was an idiot for even trying to solicit divine assistance.

"I may have left the Church a long time ago," you said cynically, "But I know that God despises whores."