MY DEAR DIETER
The smoke from the gunshots still lingered in the air. In the deathly silence, Major Dieter Hellstrom knew he was living his last moments. But he wasn't thinking of death. Instead, he was thinking of her.
His hand moved slowly, trying to reach the pocket in which he kept, still unfolded, the only love letter he'd ever received in thirty two years. And this very letter he'd been afraid to read. Now it was too late. The letter must have been torn to pieces, together with his body.
His thoughts traveled back in time to the night he'd first met the woman who'd haunted his dreams ever since.
He was alone, with a book and a beer, when, seemingly out of nowhere, she'd appeared and sat down at his table, offering to foretell his future. Of course he'd thought nothing of it, but he was bored and could use some amusement. So he'd accepted and she'd placed her small palm over his and told him they were going to be together forever.
He'd laughed at it then and he was bitterly laughing at it now. But from that night on, she had been his and he had been hers.
Who was she? Her name was Milena and she was from everywhere and from nowhere, he could not tell by the way she spoke.
Was she young? Rather ageless. She had the frailness of a rosebud and the strength of old wine.
Was she beautiful? Beyond words.
When apart, sometimes dark and suspicious thoughts of her flourished in his mind, and then he pictured himself using all his wits to get the truth out of her in the most cruel of ways. He hopelessly revolted against being possessed in such a way, only to see his resolution melt in the magic of her presence.
Where can I find you again? he had asked in that cool Parisian morning, as they strolled together hand in hand like a teenage couple and her kisses still lingered on his lips.
I will always find you she had replied, and before the first rays of sun gleamed over the waves of Seine, she was gone.
And ever since, his nights belonged to her. Yes, she would always find him. Always her soft hands would rest on his shoulders from behind, and he would turn to wrap his arms around her elusive body.
Before meeting her, he'd had countless other mistresses. And now Milena was his mistress. A mistress he was in love with. If love it was, that drug which needed to be poured into his very flesh and blood so he could feel truly alive.
I know you, Dieter. And we're so much alike, you and I she had said. She'd never uttered any other words of love, but he knew he was her chosen.
He could never get enough of her, never tire of the mind blowing way in which she shared herself with him every single night. Yet the moments of passion were hazy, only the sensations persisted in his body, as her perfume on his skin.
I will give you pleasure, and pain
He'd barely felt any pain, until the day she was gone. The day he'd gotten the cursed letter which still rested in his pocket, unopened.
Now as he lay almost dead, he wished he would kiss her one last time. Just one kiss before Hell would open and swallow him. His lips burned and he touched them with his already frozen fingers. There was blood on his hand and he tasted it as he touched his lips. A taste that was known to him, creeping up from the labyrinth of his memories. He'd tasted it before, in her kiss, in her mouth. This was not real…
The silence was broken by the sound of stilettos on the wooden floor, painful to his ears, closer and closer. Milena's face leaned towards his and he made one last effort to turn his head and glance in her eyes.
"Forever?... Liar" he whispered, unimaginably pained in each fiber of his dying body by every word he spoke, as her lips brushed against his cheek.
She looked down at him, her dark eyes bearing a strange gleam.
"My dear Dieter…" she whispered before her mouth suddenly and violently bit down on his neck, predator like. His eyelids fell heavy over an ocean of darkness.
And time stood still.
"You and I will always be together, just like I promised you" she said, as his ice blue eyes opened to a new life.
THE END