What if this hole contains a charade?

And behind it all, there's a price to be paid

For blood which we dine

Just fight in the name of The Holy and The Divine

Adolf Hitler and Eva, his bride of 36 hours, walked quietly down the dimly lit hallway in the dank Führer-Bunker. They had only just said their goodbyes to the remaining inhabitants below the Chancellery in war torn Berlin, Germany. Frau Goebbels cried when Hitler presented her with a medal--The Noblest Mother of The Reich. His quiet and sweet secretary Traudl, with whom he'd always been paternal, was given a gentle touch of the cheek and a few inaudible words.

As the two approached Hitler's quarters, he stopped and turned to Eva. Kissing the woman gently and devotedly, full on the lips. No one had ever witnessed such a display of affection between the two. And no one dared comment on it now.

Hitler turned the knob and pushed open the door to his quarters. A faint smile broke his stern countenance as he motioned for Eva to enter first. His shaky left hand lifted to graze his wife's hair as she passed by.

She busied herself at his dresser, straightening varied papers and items. Her own affairs had been settled, yet ever worried about Hitler, his long-time companion wanted to be all the more sure his things were in order. The atmosphere in the room was fatal, the scent of collapse pervaded in thick clouds. Eva's hands trembled. Though she did not fear the decision she had made, to die at the side of her Führer, the actual carrying out troubled her. Her own suicide-- a simple bite of the ampule. But his? Would the trigger be pulled at the right time? Hitler gradually made his way to the sofa and sat, sinking deep into its lush cushions.

"Come Eva, sit on my lap."

She smiled and sat sideways on the Führer's knee. Reaching her arms around his neck, "I'm not frightened mein Führer. I told you I'd follow you anywhere, even unto death." Nestling her blonde hair into Hitler's shoulder, Eva's fingertips found the shaved skin at the back of his neck and caressed it tenderly.

"No, "My Dear Little One". Face me."

A tear slipped from his lash as Eva began to moan, she opened her eyes to notice this. Hitler's gaze never left his wife. She bore down on his rigid penis with shameless ache and watched as his facial features twisted with affected bliss. He murmured the three words her Wolf rarely used, yet often proved through action.

"I love you."

Eva dipped her head and kissed her husband's mouth, speaking into the skin, "Mein Führer." Her passions were entirely aroused now and she felt Hitler shudder and buck against her body.

Reaching to take her breasts in his hands, "I couldn't give it, I couldn't give you the nation I promised." The familiar anger welled, and she could feel it in his thrusts. One for each statement. "Germany is in ruin. And you have a broken man to take with you to death!"

"From our first meeting I swore to follow you anywhere. Even onto death. I live only for your love." She had written to him after an assassination attempt last year. In his crazed fashion, he gave her everything. Everything he was capable of. It wasn't the clothes or shoes. The houses or cars. It was the calm smile that graced his face when they saw each other after months of estrangement. The way she'd lay his head on her breast and sit in silence for hours while stroking the closely cropped hair at his temple.

"I strove to cleanse and sanitize a nation to be built anew from the ground up. A world fit for you to exist in. No obstacle could stand in the way of perfection. Perfection I forced onward. For you." Hitler pushed Eva to her side, a temporary halt in the rhythmic grind caused a groan from her lips. At once he pulled her close, allowing her legs to wrap around his. "And now you are left to breathe filtered air two stories below a city I once controlled with ease."

"YouWill you bite the hand that feeds

Will you chew until it bleeds

Can you get up off your knees

Are you brave enough to see

Do you want to change it

The girl squirmed in his arms. The butt of her hand pushed against his chest. "Not here, Uncle Alf! If anyone saw us!" Her hand was immediately taken, and Geli was led through the threshold to the main bedroom.

Hitler's niece leaned against the high backed chair near her uncle's bed. "Such a look in your eye Uncle Alf, I wish I knew what stirred within your head." Geli smiled, already aroused. Her fondness had long grown beyond avuncular feelings, and she began to undo the buttons holding back her breasts. He walked to her, after allowing the door to shut behind him, tangling his fingers within her dark hair. Gently tugging a few locks close to his face as he leaned in, Hitler drew a deep breath, inhaling her fragrance. "The things he makes me do …" She whispered.

The heat of his breath on her neck ... the raised, irritated redness his mustache caused … the warm sensation of his lips kissing the flesh had Geli moaning with delight. Franticly, she tore the shirt from her body, pulled her brassier away, exposing herself. Hitler's left hand sprung to house a breast inside. Her uncle's mouth traveled upward, nipping at her chin. She said in a giggling tone, "Affectionate. Charming. I love you like this."

Her words scathed him. Hitler knew she loathed the games he devised. The actions he forced her into. The shit. The piss. The beatings he'd ask her to administer. Let her this once, see him as no one ever had. Daily, in typical situations, Geli reduced her uncle to a tranquility he had never felt before. Between the two, the relationship was sacred. Incestuous. Dazzling. Elegant. Leaping over barriers and destroying the fence separating truths and falsehoods.

His hand dropped from her breast, bending to gather her skirt lifting it upward. Wiggling past the satin covering , she gasped as her uncle slipped a finger inside her waiting sex. "Yes! Uncle Alf! Yes! I love you like this!" Geli melted into Hitler's unyielding form. He was silent, reserved for special circumstance, this hush proved to demonstrate his fervor, his need to please her. The rising pace of his breathing only excited her more. "Take my body, you have my soul. My Wolf … I want you inside of me."

Hitler motioned to the bed, and Geli followed. Sitting on the smooth coverlet she lay back as her uncle moved beside her. Reaching to direct his penis, she watched with amazement as he exacted his legendary stare. Trapped in his wonder, she found herself pleading a second time, "Come inside of me." And Hitler obeyed, as was his reaction to all Geli's commands of this nature.

The girl squealed with ecstasy, the power behind her uncle's thrusts was shocking. Enticing. Immoral. It had been almost a year now, these events between uncle and niece. She was captivated by him. Sometimes she thought herself in love with Adolf Hitler. But the sado-masochism, beating him with whips … Geli wanted affection from her uncle, not orders for abuse.

Tonight was different, and as he pushed his stiff sex into his readied niece, she could hear his pains to remain silent had failed. Hitler grunted as Geli's hips rose to meet his. Hands were slapping against each other in labors to make contact with flesh. Each endeavor to speak was blocked with a kiss.

Geli's sighs grew to a fevered pitch. Hitler anchored himself above her with pale and thin arms, where her hands had gripped and left welts. He never shut his eyes, simply exerting a steel watch over his young lover.

At length, her uncle jolted. Flinging his head back, Hitler pulled himself from his niece and released a guttural moan. "Dear Geli. My treasure. My princess." His voice gruff from the evening's political oratory. "Did you feel my eyes on you? Did you hear my ragged voice? As if I had been grunting over your naked body for hours?" And as he said this, the seed spilt from within, onto the girl's stomach. She slid beneath him, smooth bellies moved effortlessly together. Geli took Hitler's face in her hands and kissed her uncle continually, still stirred by their love-making . He rolled over, and now, on his back, Hitler's niece straddled her uncle's legs.

"Did you save yourself for your uncle? Is that what you wanted, Angelika?" Hitler asked her in a calm lover's voice. His fingers threaded through her tangled hair as she went on placing gentle kisses along his jaw. "Is that what you wanted? To lie at my side. To feel my body inside yours. Do you feel pleasure when I lower my defenses? When I lose myself in your protection?"

"When you allow me to love you, Uncle Alf," she whispered.

Geli's legs remained open, and he was soon aware that the girl was still aroused. Her sex chafed against the hairless skin of Hitler's thigh. Grinding into her uncle's leg, his niece lost all self-consciousness as she cried, "Let me! Uncle Alf! Let me!"

"Say it." Hitler offered, looking up at this beautiful child he had known since birth. "Say it for me Geli. What I have wanted from your lips for a lifetime." He was spent for the moment, but the image… the sight of her carried on his thigh was irresistible.

Her sex slid easily now, the girl was awakened to so many unusual sensations in the presence of her celebrated uncle. She was alive with want, and young enough to feel such gratification over and again. "I love you." Her voice trembled and Hitler could tell she was about to reach her pinnacle.

"Say it." He repeated in his reassured tone, reaching to rest his feminine hands on Geli's hips. Aiming her movements to cover a broader mass of his skin. Later, after she'd gone, Hitler would pass a finger over the flesh to once again take in his niece's scent.

"Mein Führer!" She called unrestrained. Her orgasm echoed throughout the room, "Mein Führer! I love you! I love you like this!" And the girl collapsed over the saturated form of her contented uncle.

Moments later, Hitler rose from his bed and turned down deep crimson covers that wrapped the two in false security.

"Will you bite the hand that feeds you?" Hitler asked as he fell before Geli. Obedient and submissive.And his niece gripped her uncle's dog whip in her hand, cracking it severe You're keeping in step, and alive

Got your chin held high

And you feel just fine

Because you do what you're told

But

Hitler sat with his shabby overcoat spread across his lap. August Kubizek glanced over at his dear friend's face as the music swelled. Consumed with an overwhelming urge, a realized mutual need to share emotions, he reached beneath the material, laying a hand on Hitler's waist. Hitler did not shy away, but laid a trembling finger on August's wrist.

The digits fumbled with the buckle, pulling back the plastic belt. The zipper was soon opened and August felt at once the hardness twisting against his palm. Hitler kept his strict gaze on the opera, but gripped the arm of his seat with great energy.

The firm shaft leapt to his hand without difficulty, and August's finger swirled lightly over the swollen head of Hitler's penis. All the while, the man never moved his eyes from the opera. As his friend's hand rose, and slid down… the music gained a frenetic pace. And during the orgasmic final notes, as Hitler felt himself give way to release, he roared "By the Living God, yes! And yes again!"

No one took notice. Even those who sat in close proximity. Frequenting the theater monthly, young Adolf was known to verbalize his approval of "The Master", Richard Wagner.

They walked home in silence. Enjoying the crisp air swirling about the bustling streets of Schwabing. Climbing the scores of steps to their shared room, Hitler remained a few behind, watching August move in advance. They came to the door.

"Gustl…" Hitler placed a white and delicate hand on his comrade's shoulder, fingers engrossing the fabric. As he turned around to face his companion, August smiled, noting the worship within the other's eyes.

"I know Adi. This will never be spoken of." And they disappeared into the room. Together.

So at ease

I keep holding on to what I want to believe

I can see

That I keep holding

On and on and on and on and on

She hadn't remembered a single dream since that night in April. Where they were… which restaurant they had come out of. And why was there a sudden rain of bullets? Was Adolf Hitler not the adored Führer and Chancellor of Germany? Who were these people shooting at him? These men who so fearlessly safeguarded him with their own bodies? And why was Jilly huddled in the backseat next to the marked man?

It was horrifying. When the woman woke, sweat was everywhere. Like the night she dreamt of aliens and her own call to arms to save the country, Jilly found a goodly amount of acid had come up in her throat. Coupled with the tricky strain of catching her breath, she sat upward and saw that the Aqua Teen Hunger Force was playing on the television. Thank God! If the repeat function on her DVD player were in ill repair, the heavily tattooed lesbian would have suffered yet another late night anxiety attack. So many friends, lovers and family members berated her for leaving the TV on while she slept, but here was the prime example and reason for such a waste of electricity.

Shawn had taken Jilly into the village only a few nights earlier to see Downfall. A German film about Adolf Hitler's last ten days before his suicide. Having read a review in Time magazine at Lola's Tattoo Shop, she wondered why anyone would make a film in attempt to humanize such a seething monster. It was after googling the movie that Jilly became interested in Adolf—The man. She looked up various quotes and pictures. Read some other reviews of the film. In a week's time, Jilly found herself in the delicious throes of new obsession. She had been through it before. Many times. The sweet realization that she has been hooked. The fervor in which she'd study and retain useless information. Clark Gable had false teeth. Rex Harrison loved fried bread and cheese sandwiches. Jonathan Frid played MacBeth in Fort Lee, New Jersey. Now, her friends and family rolled their eyes when she announced on April 20th that she would be eating vanilla cake for Adolf's birthday… and making ravioli on April 30th – The day he shot himself.

Lola was undeniably gracious about Jilly's new affinity. She sat at the kitchen table in her beautiful Victorian farmhouse and listened to the girl yammer on about Adolf The Painter… Adolf The Vegetarian… Adolf The Scatter. She even allowed Johnny to tattoo a happy face with blue eyes, an out of place forelock, and a Hitler-like moustache on her shoulder. Kurt was working on a huge shin piece of Adolf's Roses in a Blue Vase, Jilly's favorite of the Führer's painting. She and Dolores had hours logged on AOL's Instant Messenger… Hours of sick, twisted and amusing discussion regarding their new obsessions. Their undying devotion to their "Wolves".

Her twin sister was less then amused. "I don't want to hear about Hitler anymore." The same was said by her mother. No doubt more would said had Jilly come in contact with Avram Riesner, her beloved rabbi back in high school. When at her father's house, he asked, "What is this thing with you and Adolf Hitler? Are you a white supremacist now?"

"Think of the person I am. The person I have been, and if you need to ask that again I'll try and explain this." How could she explain to her father that she did not hate… that she did not believe in keeping one's blood pure. Only that she was swimming with lustful feelings… sick ideas for a story… and genuine admiration for a man that everyone with a shred of decency in their head abhorred?

One obsession after another saw this confused lesbian lusting after some famous man. To the point of many surrounding her with doubt in regards to her sexuality. Her love of a lifetime was extremely adaptable in the bedroom, allowing Jilly to act out Jane Eyre and Dark Shadows fantasies. Even a lying child she entertained on the Internet and telephone would often ask, "This Frid? Should I be jealous of him?"

A few nights after that dream, the one with bullets and blood, Jilly found herself in a huge outdoor amphitheater. The audience members were set ablaze from the orator's speech and she was no exception. To her surprise, the very man of the evening was ascending the stairs near her aisle. "What an odd place to make an exit." Jilly thought as a few babbling girls expressed themselves in a tongue the man did not understand. "Ich speck vey liddle English, sah-rie." She was along side him in spirit. Why the hell would American teenagers run their mouths at Adolf Hitler? Soon she would understand…

Herr Hitler walked straight towards her. His face wore an awkward smile, his eyes were wide but mostly showing a timid disposition. How one could speak like that to thousands of people for hours at a time and feel inhibited in front of a single person, Jilly could not imagine. She approached him, terrified herself, "I only speak English myself, but I have no other way to express what you mean to me…"

He smiled, flashing his sugar stained teeth. Only Jilly would find this display endearing. "Ist fine, I can speck enough to talk vis zou." Adolf held out his hand and shook the girl's with strength and vigor, amused at the power she returned. The two went off together, talking and laughing. They were like old pals content to merely be in one another's lost presence. Though the emptied stalls and doorways, along the halls and broken macadam, Jilly and Adolf had reached his Mercedes. Scores of black shirted SS troops had hands on the handle of their guns perchance the oddly dressed dyke might try and harm their Führer. They went on like birds, squawking and laughing until Adolf reached the car door.

"Mein Führer! Would you like to invite the lady to your next speech? It is time we left." One particularly tall SS solider shouted.

"Nein! Ich ave serched var too long vor dish Jill who undershtandz vhere I come vrom."

"But Führer …" The soldier waved a hand over his forehead and then to his underarms. "You should be getting home, no?"

Germany's Leader was drenched in sweat. No doubt he reeked of body odor as he always did after hours of speaking. Turning a shade of red Jilly had not observed before, Adolf took off in another direction. He ran as if he carried a double secret message and the fate of the Reich was in Field Runner Hitler's hands. Jilly furrowed her brow and mumbled an expletive or two before hauling ass after him. When she finally caught up, he was well and truly out of breath… and so was she. The two stood looking at the ground. It was at least five minutes before they spoke again.

Adolf was enraged, as the world had often witnessed. She stood back and permitted him. It must have reassured the man in some way, to feel bold and honorable. To take thunderous authority of the situation. To her amazement, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her toward him. Pressing his lips with vulgar energy to hers, Adolf kissed the mystified lesbian with an infatuation she had never imagined in any of her masturbatory overtures. He pulled at the collar of her ragged "Lola's: A Pirate's Life" T-shirt, and exposed her tattooed chest. When she would remember this deed, she'd always think first of how warm his tongue was. How it seemed to cover a large amount of skin in such a short amount of time.

They stood in silence. Kissing. Fumbling. Touching varied body parts with exploring hands. It wasn't until the next day that Jilly found the courage to tell anyone about the dream. She was awakened with such an affectionate feeling of bliss. And after telling a select few, she realized just how fucked up her pals thought she really was.

What will always be remembered with fondness and lust, would always be mentioned in jest.

Yet another hole

Yet another hole

In this

Infested soul

In this

Infested

Soul

Seconds later, the couple sat erect on the sofa. Hitler seized his Walther pistol from the side table and Eva assembled with a content smile on her young and peaceful face. In her still hand-- the glass capsule of cyanide rested without a single tremor. She twisted her head as her husband spoke.

"Although during my years of struggle I believed I could not undertake the responsibility of marriage, I have now decided at the end of my life's journey to marry the young woman who, after many years of true friendship, came of her own free will to this city, when it was already almost completely under siege, in order to share my fate."Hitler spoke to the closed door opposite him, as though he were taking on an imaginary audience for the last time. Eva reached to lay a hand on his hunched shoulder. Though he had aged ten years in only a few months, the new bride saw only strength and vigor in her broken husband.

He crooked his head and smiled adoringly at his wife and continued in a serene tone, "At her own desire she will go to death with me as my wife." Hitler kissed Eva with trembling lips and embraced her so she could feel the cold steel of the pistol against her back. "This will compensate us for what we both lost through the work in the service of my people."

The two broke apart and moved to either end of the undersized sofa. Adolf Hitler held the barrel of the pistol to his temple. With his free hand, he placed his own ampule of poison between his teeth and spoke from the left of his mouth. "When you hear the glass shatter my dear little one, do the same as your Wolf." He closed his eyes and bit down with a speedy crunch. Eva smelled burnt almonds and within an instant she heard the shot. The odor had distracted her, and she looked to see her husband's head blown half off. The better part of his skull and brain had adhered themselves to the wall behind them. A pool of blood began to gather on the cushion beside her, and she reached to take Hitler's limp hand within her own.

Slipping the glass capsule from her mouth, Eva gripped it between her thumb and forefinger, twirling the object in the thick crimson blood seeping from her lifeless companion's head. "I live only for your love..." She said as she replaced the poison between her teeth. As the shards of glass ruptured her gums, Eva Hitler's blood mixed with her husband's and within a moment her expired body slumped over the mutilated remains of Germany's Fuhrer, as their fingers entwined.