Munich, Germany 1918
She moved quietly and drifted through the University's library like a mouse, holding one of her medical books to her chest as she headed for the study. It was a place that welcomed all of its students peace, but Jacqueline didn't have that in mind. Bringing her book was just a decoy.
Once she entered it, she scanned the area.
And there he was, the blonde beauty she was looking for. He was sitting alone on one side of a lounge sofa with a book on his lap. He was always alone and kept to himself. She never heard him speak a word. There were times she thought he was a mute.
She never asked, she just watched him from a distance.
Sometimes he knew he was being watched and tried to ignore her eyes. Then he up and left when he couldn't stand it anymore.
There was one time she brushed shoulders with him. That was as close as she got with him. Now she was going to get even closer. Like it or not.
Slowly, like a predator, she walked over and dropped herself down onto the free seat next to him. He sat there silent for a few moments, turned his head and said, "Yes?"
Finally! A word!
She began to smile, finally able to hear him speak and being so close. It was like the highlight of her entire life.
"Hello," she said.
He cocked his brows. "Can I help you?"
That smile never left her face. She couldn't get over how beautiful he was. She was close enough to see his blue eyes. His hair was blonde with slight waves in it. He looked a bit older than her. She had no doubt about that; he was tall as hell.
"I always see you here alone," she said. "So, I wanted to finally introduce myself properly. I'm Jacqueline Schults." She held her hand out to him. "And you are?"
He looked at her hand a long moment, then began to draw his own hand to hers, but suddenly pulled away. She watched as he hesitated, then finally he shook her hand. The touch was brief.
"I'm Karl Rupert Kroenen."
"Well, Karl Rupert Kroenen, I'm glad to meet your acquaintance." She passed him a light smile but he didn't return it. He only nodded.
See? she thought. Not so bad.
It could have been left like that (he didn't seem too interested, anyway) but she wasn't going to let it be so simple as hello and goodbye. She wasn't sure if she could get close to him again---and hear him speak. She had to find a reason to stay a bit longer.
She looked down onto what he held in his lap. A book of engineering, it seemed. She looked at it, leaning some, then back to his pretty eyes.
"Engineering," she said as to check if she was correct.
"And others," he said. "You're being rather nosey."
He was getting warmer already.
"It doesn't hurt to get new allies."
"True."
With that, he then held her hand out to him again. "Allies?"
A slight grin creaked out from his lips. He shook her hand again, and it was brief like before. She ignored the flaw though, he was too interesting to let go of, even when she had to leave him. But she always saw him again, and he wasn't alone when she did. She was there. She loved the intelligent conversation---and most of all, that pretty face.
But she didn't see his pretty face anymore after 1920.
* * *
New York City, 2001
She woke groggily, and soon stirred hours after her welcoming. Kroenen watched nearby, seated in a chair. He hadn't left her side since they brought her here in his quarters and laid her on the sofa. He watched her intently and with interest. Her skin was pale but not sickly white. Her hair was still soft and looked like it was groomed this morning, with a small blue ribbon tied at the side. She had been buried in a white sleeveless evening dress with a slit down the side of it. Pinned between her collar and bosom was a blue rose, her favorite color. She looked more like a bride than a corpse.
She moved a little bit more, then finally turned her attention in his direction.
Jacqueline suddenly jumped up and scrambled for an escape. She hit her knee on a coffee table as she went.
Kroenen calmly stood. "Jacqueline, calm down." He jogged after her.
When she turned her head and saw him, she shrieked and scrambled for the nearest doorway, which was his lab. She ran for it. He crossed the room after her, and as he neared the doorway, she dove inside. She clattered over a few things. When saw her, she grabbed a knife from a table and aimed it at him.
He paused and made a short stand-off before she launched it at him. Of course, it missed and strayed past him.
He looked back at it, then at Jacqueline. "That's not how you throw a knife," he said.
She stood there shaking, with them in another stand-off. "Get away!" She then ran past him and ran for the other door. She nearly rammed into it. He didn't chase after her, though. It was locked. She was strong for her build and size but she couldn't get past that door. She twisted the knob left and right in a panic and shouldered it a bit, but it got her nowhere.
He walked towards her. "Jacqueline, for the last time, calm down."
She spun around and stared at him with her eyes wide. Her back was pinned to the door. She was shaking.
If he knew she would react so badly, he would have never---
He advanced on her until they were face to face. Her legs looked like they were about to buckle. She looked like she was on the verge of tears but her tear ducts were dry.
He reached a hand out and gently touched her cheek. She flinched against him. "I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was a near whisper.
She stood with her eyes wide a long moment as if she was beginning to listen to him, thinking maybe it was him afterall.
"Promise me that," she said, her voice quivering.
"I don't need to promise you. You should know that. Would the Karl Rupert Kroenen you know hurt you?"
"But you're not---"
He took her face with both hands. "I wish I could kiss you to prove it, but I shouldn't. I can't."
"Why not?"
He took a moment. "I'm not the same as before."
"Which means you are a liar."
"No. The last person I would want to lie to is you, dear."
"Just because you say you're Karl doesn't mean you are him," she said. "How do you know about us?"
He snickered. "We met at the Munich Science University. You and I."
"If you are him, what happened to you? Why do you look like that?" She looked him up and down, and then reached towards his face. He jerked his head back to avoid her hands.
"Time," he said.
She stared at him with a now skeptical look on her face. "Explain yourself."
"Where do I even begin?"
"From the beginning."
She was clever. But it was going to be hard to explain the years that passed---especially when he joined Rasputin's side and his cause. Would she accept him afterwards when she did believe? Perhaps he could keep some of it a secret.
He couldn't bring himself to speak.
"What's wrong? Say something. I don't want to stand here looking at your ugly face all day. You look like a demon."
"I suppose I do now," he said in a soft tone.
She began to push herself against him but she found she couldn't get past. She began to whimper. "Let me go. I want to go. I want to go home!"
"Jacqueline, wait." He held her arms down and after he did, a knock came from behind the door. Both of them paused.
"Doctor Kroenen?"
"Yes?"
He saw Jacqueline glance quickly at him.
"Come outside."
"What is it? I'm busy."
"Rasputin wishes to speak with you."
Kroenen sighed and let go of Jacqueline's arms. She stayed where she was. She had her eyes set on Kroenen.
"Stay here, my dear," Kroenen said. "Don't try to run off and don't touch anything. Touching something here may be more dangerous than trying to escape." He chuckled behind his mask, but Jacqueline didn't see anything funny about it. She was too afraid to consider any humor.
With a free hand, he kept Jacqueline back while he opened the door, and then closed it behind himself.
"Keep an eye on the door," he said to the other man. "She's a tricky one. Now where is Rasputin?"
"Second level, in the master room."
Kroenen nodded and walked off.
* * *
Kroenen's footsteps were light as he walked down the halls and toward the room where his master awaited him. There were tight corners here and it felt like he could sneak up on anyone in his presence without their knowledge. It was rumored such a murderous tactic was used to shut down the mansion and render it abandoned. Perhaps ghosts and poltergeists were the cause, but he hadn't heard about it, and coming from a group such as this, especially Rasputin, he would have known.
But he was a scientist, he had business elsewhere.
He saw Rasputin standing by the doors of a large room. Its carpet was red with gold designs, too---just like every other room. On the ceiling, inside, was a chandelier and at the far end was a fireplace. It possibly had been a dance hall at one time in its life.
Kroenen approached Rasputin. "You were calling for me?"
Rasputin turned his head to him. "Good. Kroenen. What about your subject?"
Kroenen blinked from behind his mask. She was being called a subject now? It sounded so informal. And insulting.
"She woke just recently. In this short amount of time she already has shown slight improvement. Her skin has gained some color. She, however, hasn't told me any memory of her past. She knows the name Karl Rupert Kroenen but she denies it's me. I don't blame her. It's just the shock."
Rasputin slowly nodded. "I want to see more."
"So do I. Just give me a little more time---"
"Let me see her."
Kroenen held a hand out in a stopping motion. "Not yet. Let her settle first. I need to observe her. It's looking good so far. She'll come around. She'll remember me, some time or so."
Rasputin looked at him with the eyes of a dark master. But Kroenen wasn't one who coward at his glare.
"I hope your theory works," Rasputin said, glowering.
He nodded. "It will, I assure you. I will let you know about her progress."
That glare again. "Then go."
Relieved, Kroenen backed away and walked off. As he did, he heard voices talking amongst themselves. They sounded like ghosts but they were real. He listened to them a moment, then paused when he reached the middle of the hall. There were at least three voices. They sounded familiar. Then he heard Rasputin---and his own name being said.
He turned a corner and listened. He heard his name again, talk of soldiers, the project, questions who could be more valuable; he heard the subject of Jacqueline, but they didn't use her name, they just called her "the girl".
Then: "Or is this for his own objective?"
"If it doesn't work, what do we do with her? She's no good to us."
There was a long moment of silence. Kroenen listened in hard. The response felt longer than it really was.
"Get rid of her."
Get rid of her? What did they really mean by that?
Kroenen got going again. He walked fast this time, then broke into a jog to the door where he left the other man to guard. When he saw him approaching, the man quickly came to attention.
Kroenen halted. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes . . .What about you, Doctor Kroenen? You came here like there was a fire."
"It's nothing. Was she any trouble?"
The man smirked. "She was screaming and ranting in there. She was pounding on the door. I had to brace it just in case she did manage to get that lock undone. By the way, she's got a colorful vocabulary." He smiled.
I wouldn't be surprised, Kroenen said to himself.
When he took the knob, the man said, "She needs a bath. She smells like hell."
Kroenen relaxed the knob and looked at him. "Well, she did come from the dead. I'll let her know." He slowly opened the door, and peeking through the crack as it widened, he glanced around for Jacqueline, who might be waiting for the chance to escape.
She wasn't there. She wasn't in sight at all.
He stood in front of the door and closed it with one hand behind his back, and locked it.
"Jacqueline? Are you here?"
No answer.
"Don't hide." He stepped further inside and began searching for her. He looked behind the furniture and even outside to the balcony, but found nothing. Then, when he returned inside he heard a scream.
He jerked his head towards it. It was coming from his lab.
She never listens, does she?
He ran for it and inside he found Jacqueline sitting on one of the tables with her legs drawn up. There were instruments knocked on the floor and scattered around her. She looked like a comical version of someone who had seen a mouse scurry in front of her. But it wasn't a mouse that scared her, it was the robot he let roam the room, and it was attached to the bottom of her dress, trying to climb up it. She was kicking at it and screaming.
He forgot about the damned thing.
He quickly reached for it and yanked it off like it was Velcro, and then threw it. The robot hit the wall and clattered to the floor. It didn't turn itself over after that, it only twitched its legs like a dying bug.
He turned to Jacqueline. "What are you doing in here?"
She still was curled into her position and staring wide-eyed at him. "What was that thing?"
He looked at the damaged robot across the room. "Well, it was one of my inventions."
"It attacks people?"
"I didn't know it was territorial," he said thoughtfully. "They're not supposed to be aggressive. They're only meant to observe." He shrugged.
"Observe what?" she asked.
He waved her off. "Don't concern yourself." He noticed she wasn't panicking as before, she was only on defense now. She noticed this, too. She looked at him and studied him from head to toe.
He reached a hand out to her. "Do you want some help down?"
She looked at his gloved hand, and then slowly took it.
"Good."
She leapt down with his help and knocked a few more instruments onto the floor. He kept his hand around her as she landed and stood with him. He was then left face to face with her with the woman.
She was beautiful---for the living dead.
Staring back, she noticed how close she was to him---and his mask---and tried to pull away. Kroenen kept his grip on her, although.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She didn't answer and just stared.
"Let's get out of here." He gave her a tug, led her out the lab, and pulled her across the room to the lounge sofa. He gestured her to it. "Sit."
She swallowed hard, and not letting go, she slowly sat down. They remained there, him standing and her sitting with their hands connected. It reminded him of the days they were young---before she died---before he---
"Are you going to run off?" he asked.
She didn't speak and shook her head.
"Well, I'll make sure you don't. I'll get you something that you can occupy yourself with." He sat down next to her and finally let go.
She didn't run away.
* * *
He watched in amusement as Jacqueline laid on the sofa, holding a book above her face, reading it. She reminded him of a cat playing with a new toy. On a coffee table was a collection of medical books, and one or two history books---to catch up on what she missed. She was more interested in the medical books than the history books. She mainly read about WWII when she picked up the others. When she did, and he was present, she glanced at him. Once in a while he caught a frown.
She was getting used to him, but she still denied him. For now she called him "You".
He kept his patience, but when will Rasputin loose his?
Something told him---soon.
This time Jacqueline was in a good mood and pretended Kroenen wasn't in the same room as she.
She was improving, though and acted like her old self rather than a coward. Still, she had her moments.
She had gotten more color back and her eyes were less clouded. It was going the way Rasputin wanted---and he was pleased, too. Now if only he could ask his question. But not yet. She couldn't even admit he was her lover. He would anxiously have to wait. At least he had her here and now.
A leg went bouncing, and then stopped. She gasped and fumbled through the pages of the book she had.
She paused a long moment, then she slowly turned her head to him. She stared at him, then threw the book at him. He had to side-step it as it went flying his way.
He caught a nasty look on her face, and then looked down on the book she threw. It was labeled, "Rise of the Nazis".
He looked back up at her.
"Bastard," she mumbled.
