A/N: I DO NOT own any part of Inglourious Basterds.

Jägermeister

I watched as Annabelle quietly chewed on a piece of bread slathered in butter and strawberry jam. Holding a book in one hand, her eyes intently moved back and forth as she read the lines of some great pretentious French novel that I had never heard of and could not pronounce.

With one leg up, her bare skin teased me from across the table, long legs on display as she wore nothing but a men's shirt. My men's shirt to be exact; a blue striped button down carelessly left in the bust so that I was treated with a view of her perfect cleavage.

I had taken her to bed once more since last night, and found it hopelessly as perfect as last night. The way Annabelle's body seemed perfectly made for me. Each time I touched her she would arch her back as though offering herself to me, and I liked nothing more than to take her, bringing her beautiful breasts to my mouth and listening to her coo and mew my name.

I had to wonder of course. She pleased men for a living. Was she faking it? Putting on a show simply to make me feel better? The way gooseflesh rose on her skin and she became wet when I touched her seemed to tell me otherwise, but I couldn't really know for certain, could I?

After all, if she was faking it, it was because she cared? Right? And after giving in and allowing myself to take her to bed despite my reservations, I couldn't deny that I cared about Annabelle. I hoped she felt the same way about me and saw me as more than just some Joe.

Tilting her head to the side she turned a page of her tattered paperback book then stretched, extending one of her lean legs across the table and setting it on my thigh. Lowering the book she gave me a small smirk that essentially made my heart thump away in my chest like some animated character from a Disney short film. Reaching down, I let my fingers trace the top of her bare foot gently and she smiled, her eyes seemingly soft and full of a tenderness and intimidated and melted me.

"You know I could really get used to this." She said, closing her book then standing up and walking around the table. Taking a seat on my lap she threw her arms around my neck and leaned in to give me a peck on the lips like we were some married couple. Immediately, my arms shot out to embrace her and I rested my head against her shoulder, inhaling her warm body against my own.

"You know for a guy who beats people to death with a baseball bat you're a big softy." She grinned, running a hand through my hair and I playfully nibbled at her arm feeling completely at ease like I never really had before. I felt young, like I could fully be myself. I wanted to have fun with her and hold her as long as I possibly could, surrounded by her smell and feel.

"Yeah you too Miss I Make Men Worship Me." I responded, and she laughed, the chuckle rumbling through her body then leaned down to kiss me once more, this time longer. As I tasted her lips I couldn't help but sigh like a lovesick sap. It was impossible not to damn wall melt against her as her soft mouth pressed firmly against my own.

"Well, looks like I've found the lovebirds. Hate to intrude on this little moment but if you recall we didn't finish our conversation earlier." Came a voice, and Anabelle pulled away from me as we both watched Aldo walk into the room, chest puffed out in an evident show of peacocking. Tightening my grip around Annabelle's waist I silently told him that she was mine, trying not to smile as she placed an arm around my shoulder.

"Good morning to you too Aldo. There's some toast and jam here if you would like it." She offered and he put up a hand, leaning against the counter and watching us with a cautious glint in his eye, one of a man who knew at some point he had a chance and that he had now lost it.

"I've got a job for you. You as in Annabelle. Some of Archie's men got wind of a plan to hit the Allies down in the country. Just so happens the leader of this plan is going to be attending a shindig tonight at Joseph's Goebbels' chateau. And Mr. Goebbels has a knack for inviting people for the sake of inviting them. Sort of like a Gatsby fellow."

"Joseph Goebbels. Why does that name sound familiar?" Annabelle shifted, turning around to glance at Aldo this time. Much to my disappointment she climbed off my lap and walked over to the kitchen counter, leaning against it and crossing her arms, all thought of me seemingly forgotten.

"He's the Minister of Propaganda. And a good old friend of dear Hitler. An exciting prospect, I know, but as much as I say kill the fucker it's not time yet. You have another target. Soviet defect who's Hitler's footstool. He licks the guy's ass, and tonight I'm gonna need you to get him, have him order his men down, then kill him before any of them can know the difference. Brits can't afford this attack. They can't move an entire base in a few days."

"What's this guy's name?"

"Aleksander Yelchniva. You're going under with Archie for this one. Husband and wife team, since that's what you seem to do best."

"Now wait a second." I stood up, interrupting their debriefing. There was no way I was going to let Annabelle go into a house full of Nazi's. I had seen her methods, and wasn't exactly sure I wanted to leave her with Archie, whose first priority would always be his country.

"Is there a problem Donowitz?" Aldo asked, as though expecting me to object in a way that made it evident he had done this purposefully.

"Yeah! You're doing this just because Anna-"

"No he doesn't have any problems. So what about this guy? Where do we get him? How?"

"Well, you certainly have your ways. That's why I brought you in here. We'll be waiting outside in a car. You and Archie's job is to bag him and get him to us. We take him to a little place, then you can work your magic. I'll take care of the body."

"We can't exactly walk him out the front door."

"I suppose you can't. You're a crafty little lady, I'll trust you to come up with those details. In the meantime, I need to get some things sorted. We leave in four hours. Be ready to go by then. No guns. We can't afford to make any noise or else you guys won't be getting out of there. I'll give you a little more information on your aliases in the car, I trust you can keep up."

Annabelle nodded, and Aldo gave me one last glance before departing the room in a hurry, making no mention of what part I was supposed to play in this strategic plot. Turning to face Annabelle I watched as she nonchalantly ran her fingers through her hair then returned to the table, gathering her plates.

"Annabelle you can't do this." I spoke foolishly, knowing I was letting my emotions get the best of me. Either way, so was Aldo, and it seemed the two of us were now going to war. Despite the fact he had never claimed Annabelle as his own, but like a dog, once he saw something it appeared he had to have it.

"Donny, I'm only going to say this once. Don't let what's going on between us get in the way of what we're here to do."

"Suicide isn't what you're here to do. You can't just go into a house full of Nazi's with a British soldier! You know Aldo is doing this to get back at me just because he can't have you! You can't do this Annabelle!" I exclaimed, feeling my face redden as I watched her purse her lips in evident irritation.

"I don't know about Aldo. I don't care. But you know that doing something like this means taking risks. What's to say the Luftwaffe doesn't swoop down and bomb this house and any point and time? Until we stop them nothing's safe Donny. So don't worry about me. Worry about taking these bastards out so that you can go back home to your family." She said in a voice that was way beyond her years making me question once more just how old she really was.

"Well I'm not going to stay here." I pouted, and Annabelle stepped forward, placing her hands hand my chest.

"I don't think I ever saw that as a reality. Now why don't you come upstairs and help me so that we can get this Soviet bastard, and tonight, you and I can have some serious fun."


"Well then darling, don't you look absolutely stunning?"

I glanced up as I entered the kitchen to find Archie standing quite dashing in front of the door, glad in a gorgeous tuxedo that would most certainly make him blend in with the crowd of German aristocrats.

Straightening his bow-tie, and gave me a warming smile and I returned it, only aware of Donny behind me as he made an extremely audible grunt which forced me to turn around and glance at him, stony-faced. Towering over me, he had sunk into a mood over the course of our preparation and had now become a silent and glowering statue, resorting to one-word answers and piercing eyes.

"Don't worry Donny. I'll take good care of her." Archie joked lightly, although the playfulness evaporated off of Donny like water against a brick wall and he only continued to glare so that I was uncomfortable, suddenly aware of his boyish mannerisms and attitude.

"Don't mind him, he's just upset he can't come riding in with the cavalry because Aldo has him on transport duty. Did Aldo tell you we had a child?" I asked, fiddling with my clutch and stepping towards Archie, ignoring Donny's eyes. Grasping onto his arm I felt the hilt of the knife holstered between my thighs, the pommel already sending nervous butterflies into my stomach.

"Yes. And what should we call him? I was thinking Augustine. A good healthy Catholic name, don't you think?" he said, leading me through the front door and to the porch. Smiling, I noted he was using his kindness to set me at ease about the task ahead, though it did nothing to soothe my quaking nerves.

"That sounds good I suppose. Any idea how we're going to get him down here? I mean there's no guarantee he's going to fall for whatever tricks Aldo seems to think I have." I whispered honestly as Archie led me to the car. Climbing into the backseat I gave Aldo a nod who sat at the driver's seat, clad in a chauffeur's uniform he had somehow procured.

Omar was on the other side, staring out the window and I watched momentarily as Donny got in the car behind us with Utivich, in charge of driving our future captive to the location Aldo still had not exactly told me. I was certain it wasn't the house, leading me to wonder just how big their operation really was. Big enough to have connections across all of Europe it seemed.

"Well from what I understand there's no man who can resist your charms. Though, I suppose I could always give it a try. Do you have any specific tips for me?" he raised his eyebrows, and I couldn't help but laugh despite the snowball in my gut. Perhaps the laugh was out of nerves, but it did serve its purpose in distracting me if just for a moment.

Immediately, I wanted to reach out and grab Donny's only to remind myself he wasn't there. Already after one night I was becoming more emotionally attached to him than I cared for. I had to admit, however, it was nice having someone to care about. Who I believed cared about me as well. I'd never had a serious boyfriend before (despite the fact we hadn't even gotten to that discussion yet), and I was finding it hard to wrangle in my emotions.

I had manipulated so many men and now here I was, falling victim to the feelings of an adolescent girl. But now there was no time to harp on such things. Now there was only the mission ahead, and what it involved.

"I need to get him alone. And I need you to work crowd control. One we check out the house make sure no one gets in the way."

Archie nodded, his face now becoming somber and we stared into the darkness, tension growing. Glancing down I felt the fabric of my dress. A sweetheart-neckline number made of black silk and tulle than flared out at the waist providing me ample cover for the hunting knife buried between my thighs. Dressed like a princess to deliver death and judgment.

Pulling out a compact mirror I touched up my lipstick and checked my hair as we rode through the countryside, dark trees passing by as large black figures towering into the night sky.

The mansion could be seen atop a hill long before we arrived, as a tiny speck of light standing in the darkness, and as we grew closer the magnitude of the home became clear. Lit like the Fourth of July, the massive mansion which roared with the sounds of revelry.

It was an impressive affair, a perfect homage to the debauchery-laden scene from F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. Immediately upon pulling into the long drive the car's headlights caught a glimpse of two women in bikinis darting out of the shrubs as a shirtless man in tuxedo pants and a bowtie chased them, a bottle of champagne in hand.

This was how they lived. Celebrating as the entire world stopped in the face of a world war. Rationing had taken over the countryside, while gluttony and greed spilled down the down the countryside in a sickening show that made my blood begin to boil.

"Donny and Utivich will be around the side entrance. Mostly servants go in and out of there, maybe a few drunks. You get him out here and Donny and Utivich and take care of the rest. Don't draw any attention." Aldo grunted then stood up, walking around the car. Opening Archie's door he let him out then walked around the let me out as well.

"Relax, I can feel your tension." Archie murmured out of the corner of his mouth. Placing an arm around my waist I glanced around for the second car to find it nowhere in sight. Leaning down, Archie's mouth brushed the shell of my ear giving us the appearance of a young affectionate couple as we approached the grand front door of the mansion.

"Don't look around. We could be watched by anyone right now. I know you're German isn't as strong as mine, let me do most of the talking. Remember you have a Swedish accent." He breathed as we finally reached the front steps.

Walking carefully, Archie barely reached out for the doorknocker before the front double doors swung open and we were faced with the ever-present snooty butler, an arrogant man whose large nose pointed upward in an animated fashion that was all too stereotypical and cliché.

"And who may I say is calling?" he asked.

"Edmund and Agnes Lilienthal. We were invited by Mr. Goebbels." Archie said in smooth German that was certainly impressive. The butler gave us the superficial once-over then stepped to the side, gesturing for Archie and I to come in. Immediately we were overwhelmed by sounds and sights as a topless girl ran past screaming and yelling, chased by a man with a cow skull over his head. The two drunkenly traipsed up the stairs and I glanced around at the raucousness that touched everything.

"You will find Mr. Goebbel's on the backyard patio, I trust you can find it yourself." He commented as the doorbell rang once more leaving the two of us to glance at each other meaningfully.

"The Soviet is a man of few words and fewer actions. You'll likely find him alone, enjoying a drink somewhere. Let's go out to the patio first. You make conversation with these people who are hard pressed to remember your face the next morning." Archie whispered into my ear and I nodded, weaving in and out of partygoers in various states of inebriation as we navigated the monstrous house. The true epitome of lavishness and absurdity, a tribute to the Weimar Republic if anything.

Clutching Archie's jacket tightly as I stepped on several discarded scraps of confetti we made our way to the back patio, noise growing with every step. The revelry seeped from the walls and ceiling, chandeliers swinging as music thumped and partygoers stomped as if it were the 1920s. It simply amazed me, the magnitude of the celebration that stood against everything Nazi Germany was for.

A group of three statuesque African women walked past, all sporting large silver eyelashes and black dresses as they linked arms. Not far behind, a portly man with a thick moustache without pants cackled as he chased after them, stumbling drunkenly.

"Yes it's quite surprising the things high society takes to. You thought your brothel showed the underbelly of Germany's hypocrisy. Not even close." Archie chortled in my ear, sliding open a glass door that lead to the hazy patio clouded with thick blue smoke from dozens of cigarettes and cigars.

The tinkle of champagne classes accompanied scrambled chatter as men and women lounged and spoke, completely unaware and uncaring of what went on mere cities away from them. It seemed they cared not for German troops marching upon French soil and taking it as their own. They had no concern for the deaths, as Jewish men and women fought for breath in the gas chambers.

It was horrific. The lush and carefree omission of guilt. I could see it on their carefree and drunken faces, that it was not even a thought and it angered me so ferociously that I felt myself quake before Archie tightened an arm around my waist, letting me know he could feel my emotion and warning me to gain control of myself.

"Sorry there mate!" a man with a thick Australian accent said as he bumped into us, spilling the bottle of champagne in his hand right onto me. The sticky bubbly fluid splashed onto my gloves, immediately seeping through onto my skin uncomfortably so that I had no choice but to rip the gloves off.

"Not a problem at all. You okay darling?" he asked, turning around and I simply gave Archie a glare so that the man only laughed.

"Too sober you are. Best you two start drinking while the night's still young." He raised his eyebrows, then threw his arms around a small blonde woman who appeared to be a noted German film star, though I couldn't be sure. Burying his face into her neck he tilted the bottle of champagne pouring it onto her chest carelessly as she shrieked and giggled.

"We couldn't just blow this place to pieces?" I hissed, grabbing a discarded tuxedo jacket and wiping myself off with it.

"He's right. Remember everyone here is drunken out of their minds. Best keep the appearance of good partygoers. Let's go get something to drink, where there's a bar, we're one step closer to finding The Soviet and getting out of here." Archie commented, watching as I tried to clean myself up and offering no help whatsoever.

Rolling my eyes, I threw the jacket on the ground where I knew it would go unnoticed amidst all the other discarded clothing around the house and followed Archie back inside. Simply using the sound of voices and partygoers as a guide, we cut through the sitting room where a full bar satisfied guests in the next room. Passing the living room I watched as a naked girl lounged on the couch, another between her legs. As one hand dangled off the couch she dropped what seemed to be a hand-rolled cigarette emitting quite a foul odor.

"What'll you have to drink?" Archie asked me in German and I glanced around the packed room. Stepping up to the bar he pushed me forward and I glanced back at him sharply then to a bartender who wiped a glass with a cigar in his mouth, ruddy-faced and obviously quite drunk himself.

"Rye, on the rocks." I demanded and Archie held up his hand to signal two. The bartender nodded the set down two glasses rather harshly, filling them with ice and sloppily pouring our drinks. Pulling out a wad of money Archie began to set it on the counter but he nodded.

"No no. You're money's no good here. Now drink up!" he exclaimed, and Archie raised his glass before downing it eagerly. Shaking my head, I did the same and he chuckled loudly, clasping his hands together.

"WE'VE GOT A REAL WOMAN HERE LADIES AND GENTS! ANOTHER!" he exclaimed, pouring two more drinks then sliding it over to me.

"Oh no I-"

"Lighten up darling. She really can cut loose." Archie grinned, taking his drink again and I did what I could not to reach over and hit him. I needed to have my wits about me. We both did, and quickly chugging drinks was not the way to do that. I understand we needed to blend in, but Archie was simply being reckless, and while at his size he may not have gotten drunk so easily, I knew the second drink would likely make me dizzy.

"Up you go." Archie demanded, grabbing the glass then lifting it to my mouth. I tried to push it away only to have him hold my hand and tip it into my mouth so that I sputtered and chocked as the fiery liquid spilled down my throat unexpectedly.

"That's my girl!" Archie roared, lifting a hand and slapping me on the bottom lewdly and I yelped, feeling my face flush with anger. It seemed he was more intent on having a good time than doing what we came to do, and that simply wasn't something I planned on dealing with.

"Another! For the fine gentleman and his beauty of a wife! To Germany!" the bartender shouted, and was rewarded with cheers from all over the room.

"To Germany!" Archie raised his glass.

"To Germany." I repeated, tight lipped and steadily infuriated.


"No, get this! Since Utivich likes to stay up Aldo's ass all the time Andy and Omar decided it was time to teach him a little lesson. Serves that little fuck right for that rank shit he tries to pull whenever Aldo isn't around. Hey Donowitz you look like you got a problem up there."

I ignored Wicki in the backseat of the car as cigar smoke floated around the air, clouding the automobile. Rolling down the window slightly I stared up at the huge house then glanced down at my watch. It had been an hour and a half now and Annabelle and Archie were nowhere to be seen. An hour and a half too late in my mind.

"He just doesn't like Archie spending time with his girlfriend. Wonder what they're up to in there?" Andy cackled, and I clenched my fist, trying not to glance back. Of course it was the truth. I didn't like the thought of Archie in there with Annabelle, especially since I had seen how far she went for her work. I didn't like the thought of him touching her, kissing her, or whatever the hell else he got in his mind to do.

I should've had her in my bed, making every single fantasy I had since I first saw her come true. But here we were, and I had to worry about her getting herself killed on top of everything.

Opening the car door I stepped out, slamming it behind me so I didn't have to listen to the immature chatter in the car. From our hidden location behind several tall shrubs I glanced over as a figure paced back and forth carefully, glancing up at the house with his hands in his pockets then returning his nervous walk.

"Why the hell did you have to send her in there? You knew we could've just had some guys go in and get him." I approached Aldo, unable to stop myself from calling out to him angrily. Stopping in his footsteps he looked up at me, his face long beneath the moonlight.

"We have her here for a reason Donowitz. If I'm not going to use her there's no point in just having another mouth to feed." He responded, his voice empty and emotionless in a way that only made me seethe.

"You and I both know what this is about. Annabelle and I are together and you don't like it. That's one way to act like a man." I spat.

"Last I recall you and Annabelle ain't nothing but two people enjoying time in the sack together, and I don't like you implying this is some schoolboy scheme to get Annabelle. This is bigger than you, me, or her. Don't make me regret coming to you." He growled, voice lowering into a threatening whisper that made me stand back for a moment, unable to say anything.

Indeed, Aldo had come to me. I had helped create and found The Basterds. And I was responsible for leading the men under his command. That didn't mean I believed any less that Aldo was only human, and scheming was a part of his personality. But I had to wonder if I was in fact letting my emotions get the best of me? Was it possible he would put her in harm's way just to make a point? If anything, shouldn't it have been me out there?

"Sorry, I just…" I shrugged, unsure of what to say. My face burned and I felt like a child being admonished in front of the class.

"Didn't think before you opened your mouth. I told you from the beginning, I couldn't let you have her interfering with your work. It's your life to live Donowitz. But we got a war to stop. We got people back home. People whose names are on your bat and I know you ain't letting them down."

"I know. I know. It won't. Just…make sure she makes it out of there alive Aldo. She's just a kid."

"And this is a war. I have no doubts she's going to come marching out of there with him dragging at her feet. That's what I put her in there. But any one of us could get caught up while we're hear and give our life. It's war. We die or survive. And all of us know that. Boys younger than her have died on the fronts. And not to talk about the ca-" he stopped, choking on the last word as his face brightened. I knew where he was going. The camps. Something that Aldo, the strongest of men that I knew had a hard time talking about.

Glancing back up at the house I stared in silence beside Aldo, hands in my pockets with nothing left to say.


As I leaned against the wall, trying to cool my flaming face Archie grabbed my arm, surprising me then pulled me into a room, slamming the door behind us. Wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead I swayed slightly, intoxication having taken its roots within me as I slowly sank more and more into the party, finally camouflaging myself as Archie had stated before I began to doubt him.

"Where have you been?" I slurred, grabbing onto him and he walked me over to the bed, sitting down then glancing back at the door. Grabbing onto my face he stared into my eyes, cupping my cheeks intently as a parent would when trying to impress something important upon their child.

"Listen to me Annabelle. Are you listening?" he swallowed.

"I'm not that drunk." I replied with spectacular denial. Giving me a slight shake Archie exhaled and I felt adrenaline begin to rush into my body, seemingly overpowering the alcohol in a way I didn't think possible. Though I still felt thick-tongued and light headed, a slight clarity shrouded the haziness that had enveloped me for the past hour and I knew what he needed to say to me was important.

"I found him. Yelchniva. He's upstairs in the library, alone. Totally alone. I convinced him to go up there for some solitude. If you hurry quickly you should be able to find him before he leaves or anyone else gets there. I'll make sure the surrounding area is clear, and I'll come check on you. From there we'll find a way to get him to the car. Do you understand me?"

I nodded, and Archie narrowed his eyes, gazing into mine so intensely that I looked away. Grabbing my face he jerked me back so that I was forced to stare at him.

"Please Annabelle understand what I'm saying." He hissed.

"Yes I heard you." I snapped, slapping his hands away and repeating his words in my muddied head. I knew I was drunk, but his pretense that I was seemingly unable to function was more than a bit insulting.

"Fine. And one more thing. Under no circumstance should you underestimate him. Yelchniva is sick, he's a sadist."

"Yeah, I've worked with sadists before." I snorted, standing up but Archie grabbed my arm.

"You don't understand. Be careful. Do not make a move until I am there. He's not a normal masochist. He enjoys torture and mutilation in the most horrific ways imaginable. He has a particular habit of cutting women up then burning them until they die. Be careful."

Archie's words hit just as hard or even harder than he intended as I froze in my footsteps, feeling my stomach contract into knots. I'd partaken in my fair share of the BDSM culture. In fact, I thoroughly enjoyed living the life of a sex slave, even pain play as far as I could. Bleeding, burning, crying throughout my orgasms I had enjoyed it all. But I could understand that this man did not want to cause me pleasure through my pain. He simply wanted to bask in my suffering. He was a sleeping dragon, and I was about to poke him repeatedly right in the eye.

"I-I understand." I whispered, and Archie gave me a solemn nod, slowly letting go of my arm.

"Take the spiral staircase and make a right. There will be two mahogany wooden doors, that's where you'll find him." Archie breathed, then made his way to the door. Turning to look back at me and gave me a last week.

"Aldo made me promise I'd bring you back unharmed. And I'm a man of my word." He nodded, then opened the door and crept out, leaving me alone as my heart pounded in my chest. Reaching up and touching a hand to one of my cheeks I looked around the room, grabbing a melting ice bucket from the nightstand of a bedroom I had just realized I was in.

Swirling my hand around in the freezing water I splashed some on my face in an attempt to sober up then took a deep breath as I tried to steady my shaking limbs. The cold was already creeping into my along with a subtle panic that whispered in my ear.

You can't do this. You're going to die tonight. You should've stayed at the whorehouse where you belonged, not running around with soldiers. The impish voice hissed cruelly and I tried to push it away as I made my way to the door, stomach rising for a moment.

I burped, then spun around and took the ice bucket, sticking a finger down my throat and allowing myself to retch the liquid contents of my stomach. Purging the contents of my belly I squeezed my eyes shut as my nose burned with the scent of vomit, watery streaks making their way down my face.

When nothing but a dribble came up I sat still, feeling myself shake then headed for the door in search of a bathroom before I could resume my task. Placing my hands on doors, I found a cracked one and pushed it open, flipping on the light switch to find a young couple completely passed out in the tub.

Turning on the sink, I rinsed my mouth then splashed water on my face one more, staring at myself in the mirror with a sigh. The tears that had spilled from my eyes involuntarily stained my skin with black mascara. Wiping away the tracks I gazed at the warped Dali version of myself then took off, steeling myself for a task I felt hopelessly lost in.

Following Archie's directions I surprised myself by how lucid I had become. And just as he had told me, upon hitting the stair landing I glanced down the hall to two double doors, a beam of light spilling from beneath that held a waiting tiger inside.

Standing just outside the door I closed my eyes, hand lingering on the handle imminently. Pressing my thighs together I felt the knife holstered against my thigh once more and prayed I wouldn't be forced to use it. I prayed that things would go smoothly for once, God granting guidance in my efforts to help stop the deaths and war.

And as I turned the handle I could do nothing but open the door, peering into the warm amber light that spilled forth. Gazing around me I took in the magnificent study, cases upon cases of books wrapped in beautiful leather bindings with gorgeous trim. Books with worn titles I couldn't read, books about art, books about life, sex, beauty, freedom, truth, God, Satan, life, death, and what seemed everything imaginable.

The study remained the pretentious vision of a cultured critic with both a fine taste and a trained eye. For as I stared at the impressive collection, eyes shifting to the works of art hanging from the walls the sheer beauty of it threatened to overwhelm me.

"Quite lovely, is it not?" a deep voice called out, and I spun around as my heart stopped in my chest to find a dark figure staring at me from across the room, a figure that I had both anticipated and did not quite expect. Stepping forward with a drink in his hand, The Soviet revealed himself to me as he took a sip then gestured to a bookshelf in the back corner.

"Maps. Charts. Illustrations. He has the whole world in here." He spoke in perfect German, each word articulate.

Pursing his lips, he took another sip from his drink and I attempted to move, finding myself frozen where I stood as I watched him carefully. I knew very little about him, but as I gazed upon his incredible form, tall and slender, I quietly wondered if he was Satan himself.

He was much younger than I had anticipated, appearing to be around the age of 23 or so. With dark hair slicked back he pouted full pink lips that were more beautiful than I could have imagined, his dark eyes intently studying the room. Several rings adorned his fingers, and a cross hung around his neck as he stood a little over six feet tall.

His beauty was terrifying, the beauty of a fallen angel a man who once was everything. Perhaps it would have been easier if he was as I pictured him: a hulking brute with some mangled scar across his face, speaking in a thick accent. But instead she was met with pale skin and large eyes that were both dark and tender.

"You appear as though you were in need of an escape as well." He mused, slipping a hand into his pocket and I tried to find myself to respond instead of staring open mouthed. He was so young. Could he really be the monster he was portrayed as?

"Yes my husband is…"

"Drunk? Yes. Yes there seems to be a lot of that. Uncivilized beasts roaming around on their knees fucking a drinking. Pardon my manners. Allow me to introduce myself: Aleksander Yelchniva. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" he asked, stepping closer and giving me a dazzling smile that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

"Agnes Lilienthal. Pleased to meet you. Yelchniva is not a German name is it?" I asked coolly, extending my hand and he took it like a gentleman, placing the smallest of kisses then pointing to a book, striding over to one of the cases against the wall.

"No. I'm a Soviet. And I expect Lilienthal is a French name. We appear to be like-minded, so tell me Frau Lilienthal, do you enjoy the works of Gustav Mahler?"

"Agnes, please. And y-yes. I do." I replied as he yanked a book off the shelf. Setting his drink down he opened the wide chronicle, balancing it between his hands then lifted it, flipping it around so that I could see two printed pages, both showing dark paintings I could not quite make out from across the room.

"A compilation of paintings meant to accompany the works of Mahler. All quite brilliant. Goebbels' has quite the collection. Would you like a drink?"

"No, I've had too much already." I put a hand up and he glanced at me for a moment then gave a small smile, holding up a hand as though telling me to wait for something. Striding across the room I spun and watched carefully as he opened the door and looked out then waved at someone beckoning in.

And then, I heard a soft groan come out of my mouth as several soldier's entered, dragging a man with a bag over his head who I knew to be Archie by his clothing. Closing the door behind them they threw him on the floor and Yelchniva bent down, yanking the black bag from his head and grabbing his face, smiling at me.

"Say hello why don't you. Solider, say hello to your nice woman."

"Annabelle…run…." Archie choked then began to couch, several specks of blood spilling from his mouth and I took a step back, staring at him.

"Oh no, she's not going anywhere." Yelchniva said, then pulled out a pistol, pulling back the hammer and aiming it at me before I had the chance to move. It happened at such immense speed that as the hot lead buried itself into my stomach all I could do was scream, feeling the icy hot pain that began to blossom as I fell to the floor, feeling hot liquid seep between my fingers as they went to the wound.