Beauty and the Beast

Day 2

Silke,
I don't think I have any right to worry, though. Come to Prague and you'll see. I've found me a girl who looks just like you, who reminds me of you whenever I look at her.
She's served me well, you know. Screwing her makes me feel young again. It takes me back to those idyllic weekends we used to spend in Berlin, in your bedroom, or in my hotel room, drinking red table wine and having our way with each other. Those were the most beautiful days of my life, and every night, I get to relive each and every one.
This girl, called Sophie Gabcik, also gives me an opportunity to vent my rage at her—and at you. For all the tender feelings I harbor for you, I can't deny the spitting, venomous rage that coexists alongside it towards you. I loved being in the navy; I loved being a commissioned officer. You took that away from me with one tearful confession to your father, all of it. I would be a penniless, groveling civil servant today if it hadn't been for Lina, who so graciously introduced me to Himmler, the Reichsfuhrer of the SS. Given that information, you can't blame me for marrying her.
Hatred is a heavy burden. I will recount to you an incident that rather relieved me of most of it, albeit for a time.
This Sophie Gabcik, like you, is a free, headstrong spirit. I had her "arrested" by my Gestapo, after all—she doesn't love me, and she never will, after what I've done to her.
She tried to escape one day, much to my chagrin. She looks like you, you know. You've already slipped through my fingers once; I wasn't about to let you slip through them again.
I'm a fast runner. You know that. We've run so many races together in front of your house when your father was away for business that I've lost track of the exact numbers. I remember how many times I let you win, and how many times I beat you out of spite.
So I chased after her through the woods—me, personally, without an escort or a bodyguard. I didn't need one, anyway. She was a fast runner too, like you, only she lacked the ability to keep quiet. I would have almost lost her if it hadn't been for the fact that she tripped over something and I heard the sound of her breath whooshing out of her.
She seemed to change before my eyes as I threw myself onto her. Her disgusting Czech features began to slowly change right before my eyes into your beautiful Nordic ones. It was almost like you were in front of me, beneath me. It was too much for me; I couldn't believe that this was the woman I loved and hated virulently at the same time.
I did so many things to the Czech girl that night, Silke. Things that you and I did together, and things we hadn't had the chance to. Symbolically, I used the handle of my naval dagger on her at one point, not just myself. Although I couldn't see it, there was blood—a lot of it—when I was through. I think the dagger handle was what got her hospitalized more than anything else; why the X-ray photos the doctors showed me looked so hideous.
I can't blame myself: I didn't see her. All I saw was you. And at that moment, I don't know what was stronger, what had more power over me—the rage to completely destroy you for ruining my naval career, or the voice in my head screaming at me to stop, that I would ultimately kill you with all I was doing. I say it was the former; what do you think?
The doctors have advised me to stay away from the girl for a whole month, lest I reopen her wounds. It matters not; I can use her in other ways.
Are you scared of me now, Silke? This is such a far cry from the old Reinhard, isn't it.
I love you,
Reinhard