I awoke in the middle of the night, to a loud clamoring downstairs, so I arose out of my bed, and went to investigate. Hiding from my vantage point
at the top of the stairs, I was able to see two German soldiers with SS armbands, and my breath quickened. My father was arguing with the soldiers,
my mother crying close by, kneeling on the floor, hysterical. My heart at this point was pounding in my chest.
One soldier struck my father in the head with the butt of his pistol, and my father collapsed to the floor. During my observations, tears began to
run down my cheeks, as I huddled closer to the banister, and with the last cold action, my heart missed a beat. I watched my father writhing in agony
on the floor, and I was helpless, my eyes unable to move from the horrible scene before me, yet taking it all in. I could not stop the tears, nor
could I speak.
My father was bound, and my mother dragged to her feet by the cruel soldiers. After a barrage of words that I couldn't hear from my vantage point, my
mother pointed towards me, at my refuge atop the stairs, and the soldiers approached. I was frozen in fear. They caught me easily.
There was a truck outside, and we were loaded into it. It lurched into gear, and traveled for miles. The road was bumpy, and as a 15 year old girl,
I had no clue to the depth of demise. My father told me to be brave, and my mother just wept silently. I had no idea where we were going, but at the
time, I think they did. Sometimes, I cherish those memories, the fear, the uncertainty, the chaos. I learned a lot from that, and it molded me for
There's a limit you have to place, which balances the burden against the need. There is a superior race on this planet, those not mingled with the
taint of color, and therefore my premise for my actions. There needs only one race, one method of government, and that is Socialism. The pains we
must endure to achieve that goal will be great, but worth the cost. As I sit here in this rotting prison cell, and pen these thoughts, I remind
myself every goal has a cost, a sacrifice, and I recall my mistakes from my failed takeover during the Beer Hall Putsch. I reserve such faults for
the weak, however those are that have incarcerated me here. My only sentence is that I failed once, but now look forward to a future of a motherland
that is devoid of such ignorance, under my rule, and I as their leader. My experiences as a lad of barely fifteen years have not been forgotten, and
the members of the Thule hardly induct those not worthy. My service during the World War speaks for itself, these gaudy medals barely the indication
of the fuhrer I will become. I march forward, bravely, with new ideas, the final goal being the deliverance of my true sovereignty.
I worked in the camps for the next two years, separated from my mother and father, and learned the skills required in prison camps. My body
developed, and the soldiers noticed, so I grew myself into favor with them, trading my body at night for privileges during the day. Such I began to
realize the cruel and primitive ways of man, and how easily they become controlled. I began to use my wiles to play them against each other, and they
were soon trying to out do one another in feeble attempts at garnering my favor. Among their ranks I became a Mistress, and little do I say about
what depraved men will ask for at the hand of a woman sadist. Cold to passion, the men cared little for their own hearts, and such men deserved
punished. So punish them I did, inflicting pain at their behest, their twisted desires gladly filled, debauchery and perverseness the staples of
their souls. It was all utterly repulsive to me, but I knew a weak heart wouldn't survive long, so I removed my heart and lived as soulless as I
My reputation grew, and the guards started bringing Deutchmarks instead of just favors. I could buy things with money, and no longer confined to
camp, but able to roam freely, I did.
I learned about Bund Deutscher Mädel (German Girl's League), and soon enlisted. They taught me the skills of refinement, record keeping, and how to
use a typewriter. It was during my duties one day, delivering an envelope of memos, was when I first saw him, and I knew my life had changed forever.
For I had saw a real man, and he was speaking real words, with the passion that had been far removed from my soul. I listened, and the words he spoke
caused my heart to flutter, and I was sure that what he said was the truth, spoken with conviction.
I started planning our first meeting.
I am rising in favor. The people are listening to my truths. There are those still ignorant, who can't understand my vision, but they are dealt with
in a timely fashion. A weak leader has no place leading. There must be strength and resolution in every leader, and with such merits I speak to my
people. There must be an expansion of our race, and my deputies understand this as well. Himmler and Goebbels I trust implicitly.
Today, after my speech, I believe I spied an angel in the crowd. Beautiful and seductive, she caught my eye, and the only weakness within me was
catapulted to the front of my mind. Shaking my head, I quickly regained my senses, and left the crowd to plan in my study.
I caught his eye. I know it. I watched the barely perceptible twitch, as I have grown to read men, and know the second part of my plan will be soon
to follow. With a man such as this I can become something I rarely dream, and something within is breathing it's breath in me. My stomach is tight,
my breath quick, and my passion re-kindled. The heat is burning within, a small glowing ember. Need I feed it more, I ask myself, unable to
My invasion is going according to plan. My troops are gathering the dissenters, from the Gypsy, Romanian, and Jewish populations. Only a weak ruler
would show compassion, so I've set up camps for those who refuse to listen. My lieutenants are performing exceptionally well, relentlessly carrying
out my orders. After jotting down another memo to relay to the Reich, I call for a secretary.
There she is in front of me, the angel from the crowd, so I look at her curiously.
“What is your name?”
“It's Eva Braun, mein fuhrer.” She bows slightly, and I am impressed with her grace.
“Please deliver this promptly,” I said, handing her a manila folder, “and return after it's delivery to notify me personally.” She bowed
once more, and promptly left, her body flowing like the wind. Only a soulless man would not yield to such visions, and being captivated as such, I
resolved to learn more about her.
edit on 4/15/12 by Druid42 because: Trying to fit it nicely into the alloted space.