A/N: Hey there! I'm really sorry if this is a bad beginning because this is my FIRST fanfiction and story I decided to publish. I've finally racked up enough courage to do this, lol. I don't own any of the characters besides the ones I have made. All rights go to the one and only Quentin Tarantino! Anyways, hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

I looked out the small, foggy window from inside the kitchen in my aunt and uncle's small, rustic farmhouse. There land was exceptionally gorgeous. The luscious green of the grass stood out from the dark, eerie forests that stood around the many acres of land, almost like a wall blocking out the rest of the world.

It was a calm and peaceful morning. I, of course, was up earlier than everyone else so it made things 10 times more peaceful.

I didn't have my little cousins running around shouting or my uncle and aunt working outside. Just the gorgeous land, quiet house, farm animals, and me.

That was, until I began to see a truck and a few motorcycles driving down the small dirt path headed towards my house. Oh God, please... Why must they come so early? Why must they come at all?

I hadn't been harmed physically by them but they just annoyed me. The enlisted men I didn't mind that much, it's just when they had officers present. It seemed as if they could see right through me. It was very creepy...

I saw the vehicles come closer to the house so I immediately ran to my bathroom and made myself seem a little more presentable. I combed my medium, brunette hair-which was somewhat curly-to get rid of the knots and tangles. I applied a small amount of blush to brighten up my gloomy, pale face. I took a look at what I was wearing in the dirty mirror in front of me. My skirt had stains all over it and my green blouse was torn from working so much. Why must my family be so poor?

When my parents were alive, we were very, very, VERY rich. Well, compared to everyone else. My father was a highly decorated SS Officer. My mother, however, was basically a Polish whore. I loved her, but she had a terrible lifestyle...

I tore my clothing off quickly and put on a light brown skirt along with a new, clean, white blouse. I tucked my golden cross that hung around my neck into my blouse. I was a Catholic, but I never had time for church. I had to deal with Nazis for my aunt and uncle because they could not speak German so I didn't bother to wake them up for this.

Without delaying my thoughts and actions for another moment, I ran down the stairs right when the German men were exiting their vehicles. I went back to the sink and continued to wash dishes to act like I had never seen them coming. Before I knew it, there was a knock at my door.

I slowly walked to the door and carefully place my hand upon the door knob. I reluctantly turned the knob to open the door.

"Why hello there! My name is Colonel Hans Landa of the SS. May I ask your name, love?" the man asked me ecstatically in French.

"Uhm, hello... My name is Łucyna Schweitzer." I said softly to the man. The more I looked at him, the more handsome he seemed to get. He was probably in his early forties but still good-looking nonetheless. "Oh, and please talk in German if that's what you prefer. I grew up with it so it should be comfortable for both us." He nodded his head at this and smiled at me.

Hans' hand swooped in front of me, making a slight gesture before asking, "May I enter your home?" I nodded and opened the door further for him to enter along with a few of his men.

"Well, it's not really MY home. I don't own it." I replied a little nervous.

"Hmm, so who owns it then?" he asked casually with slight curiosity.

"I live here with my aunt, uncle, and cousins."

"Parents?" he questioned me as I pulled out a chair for him to sit while he quietly thanked me.

"My parents died when I was 15 years old which was one year ago." I responded, my mood dropping from thinking about them.

"Ah, I see. I'm quite sorry to hear about that..." he muttered although I doubt he cared.

"May I ask what nationality your family and you are?" Hans said as he was practically interrogating me. Well, you could actually say he was.

"I'm half Polish and half German. I grew up in and around Berlin and Paris. My father was a SS officer while my mother was a young woman from Poland. My aunt that currently lives here is French, while my uncle here is Polish; he was my mothers older brother. Then they have their children. Obviously, they're half French half Polish. And if you were wondering, which I know you were going to ask sooner or later, is no. Nobody in my family are Jews. We're predominantly Catholic, though none of us have any time for church so we don't bother much with our religion." I finally finished. I was about to die of not breathing for the whole time while I said that. He better not ask anything more from me...

Hans was writing notes down in his journal about what I had said.

"Where are my manners, Colonel Landa. Would you like something to eat, drink?" I said politely, cursing myself quietly for not asking earlier.

"Yes, please. Milk if you have any. It is a farm, of course." Hans smiled at me. I had no idea what he was planning to do, but it didn't look good whatsoever.

I rushed over to my counter and grabbed an empty, clean glass and a jar halfway filled with milk. I brought it over to the table and gently poured milk into the empty glass.

"Thank you very much, miss." Hans basically chugged the whole glass down before putting it back on the table with a 'bravo' along with a slight hand gesture. I nodded and smiled with a simple 'thank you.'

"So, what can I do for you?" I replied numbly because of his carefree attitude. Why just barge into my house and drink my milk? What's the point in that? There has to be more of a reason...

"Well, Miss Schweitzer... Seeing as you're half German and half Polish, it appears that you must be labeled as an enemy of the state." I gasped in horror as to what Hans was saying. Enemy of the state? My dad was a SS Officer! Hans continued. "But! You are also half German! So... that makes you half enemy of the state, if that makes any sense." he spoke like everything was fine and dandy. How can one be half enemy of the state?

"So, what's the problem? I couldn't choose my mother! My father did! He was an SS Officer! Not just some random German civilian... Besides, this all happened before the war even started in 1926 when they gave birth to me!" I rose from my chair in anger, almost knocking it over. Hans still looked at me as if nothing was wrong. How could this man be like this?

"That's the thing, Miss Schweitzer. We're not going to kill you for Heaven's sake if that's what you think!" he laughed because that's EXACTLY what I thought was going to happen. "We're simply going to teach you a lesson on what it's like to be Polish. So... consider this a beating, a very harsh one to be exact. But trust me, you will not die. We will make sure of it so you can live with this memory for the rest of your life..." I moved back a few steps in horror. What does he mean? What's going to happen?

"Well... I'm sure you'll be able to find out the answer to your question in a second or two, Miss Schweitzer! Have a lovely evening!" And with that, he picked up his bag and left my house. I was about to call him back to ask what he meant, but when I heard screaming upstairs, I knew the answer to my question.

"Marie! Sophie! Jerzy! Are you guys okay?!" I screamed in French as I began running up the old, creaky stairs in the small farmhouse. As I got upstairs, I was shocked at the scene that was playing before my very own eyes.

A German soldier had my younger cousin, Sophie, who was 14 years old, pinned against the ground tearing at her clothes.

"Sophie!" I screamed in a rage as I ran to the German and tried to push him off of her. Of course, I wasn't anywhere near as strong as these soldiers. Another man came up to me from behind and yanked me backwards, freeing his friend from my soft (to him) and gentle pushes.

"Hey! Let me go! Let THEM go, too!" I shouted in German hoping the men would stop all this nonsense.

"Shut up, you Polish whore! What, have you forgotten about that slutty mom of yours? How she slept around with all of those men in the SS and Wehrmacht?" he yelled back to me along with a hard slap to the face.

"I don't associate with ANY of those actions my mother committed!" I bellowed while hyperventilating in anger.

"Aha! But you DID commit actions as a prostitute, haven't you? I know your little secret... I heard all about you from the other men in the outskirts of Paris. They said you were a hot 16-year old with a nice rack and an amazing body. Well, there's only one way to find out if that's true, girl..." the soldier said mischievously as he began to walk closer to me.

"Wait... You don't have to do this... Just please, at least, leave the others out of this. Do whatever you want with me! Please!" I begged. I don't care how desperate I sounded, I just didn't want my family to get hurt because of my mother and I, myself.

The soldier grabbed me by the hair as he dragged me into a room and slammed the door shut with a loud bang that seemed to rattle the house top to bottom.