A Beauty Among Beasts

by Melanie Gabrell

  He nodded in acknowledgment and stepped into the fire's light.

  Where Anna's dark blonde hair gleamed, his dulled. Everything about his appearance was a visual representation of the feelings he exuded when he walked into the room. She couldn't help but feel repulsed at first glance. He almost didn't look human. There was probably a good reason he didn't attend school. You know, more than just the money aspect—though, for most that usually sufficed for reasoning.

  It made sense why he stood in the darkness. It was kinder to him. Even his skin was gray and looked dead. The veins were visible in his pale skin. His eyes were bloodshot, red, like the fire. Was it a trick of the light? It was the only thing that seemed alive in him, but animalistic. They say the eyes are the gateway to the soul, but Anna saw emptiness there.

  "I know how I look. I am a sick. I promise I am not as terrible as I seem. You must know … my father is away at war. He wanted me to have some help. So, it will just be us, though I didn’t mention it since I wasn’t sure how you’re father would take it.” He gazed at the fire as he spoke and Anna was at a loss for words. She panicked for a moment, but also felt pity for the lonely young man standing in front of her. ”Let me show you to your room." He turned away and started up the central staircase, his hand trailing along the railing.

  She followed close behind as he told her about the castle, its origins, and family legacy since its founding in the 1400s. "You know, my family was one of the first to settle here. I have records going back to the time when this castle was built." He spoke low and without making eye contact. He continued to look forward, making it very hard to hear.

  The castle was huge, and Anna was mystified by every room they passed. Each was more ornate than the last—although a bit drab, she noted. She did not linger, however. She would have plenty of time to revisit the rooms throughout her stay.

  Finally, they stopped at the end of the hallway on the second floor, and he opened the door to a bedroom that matched the others in size, but not in dreariness. It was complete with a single large window overlooking the gardens and a lake beyond. The walls matched the color of the sky outside, and even the domed ceiling made the room feel like it was part of the sky—she would be sleeping in the clouds. Unlike the foyer, real vines draped the ceiling like treetops. It felt too good to be true, as if it was made for her. She had never thought of an ideal room, but if she had too, the room in front of her was undoubtedly hitting the mark.

  She was so busy looking around and marveling at all the details, that she hardly noticed her host quietly leaving. She turned to find him exiting the room.

  "Wait," she called to him, and he stopped in the doorway, "What's your name? You never said. Even my father has only ever referred to you, well, your father, as his client." Anna sat on the king-sized bed. It was softer than it looked.

  He turned to face her, looking her in the eyes with a somber expression.

  “Leon."

  Chapter 7

  Gwen

  It had been a week since Anna left and she already felt like a stranger to Gwen. Seeing each other across the hall while they were living separately really made Gwen feel the space between them—more like the universe between them. She knew they’d become distant, but when the distance was so much that they merely waved to each other in the hall…?

  She was bitter about her sister’s new opportunity; not the situation itself, of course, but the spell Anna seemed to place over everyone, even before she’s met them. Though Gwen was the responsible sister and worked harder than anyone, Anna always seemed to overshadow her without trying. Even the stranger wanted her, Gwen thought as she followed the familiar back of her sister into the classroom.

  The class, like all the others in the school, was half empty. The ghosts of missing classmates loomed, though not everyone could see them there.

  Gwen sat across the classroom from Anna, and despite what Anna may have thought, she was always aware of her presence, even as she whispered to Elizabeth. Gwen glanced her way and Anna smiled briefly before returning to her book.

  “You think I should tell Anna he asked me out on a date?” Gwen asked Elizabeth, turning back in her chair to her friend. They were talking about a boy, one a little bit older, Henry Tolkien. But it was privileged information and Anna wouldn’t know, they didn’t talk like that normally. Perhaps it was time to expand their horizons since they were expanding their distance.

  Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide and she shook her head so hard back and forth that it looked like it might fall off at any moment. “No way, she knows him.”

  “So?”

  “She might tell him you like him.”

  “But I would tell her I said no.”

  Elizabeth had no answer, she just shook her head as if Gwen didn’t understand, but in fact it was the other way around. Gwen knew that Anna wasn’t one to spread rumors and put Gwen in a weird corner.

  “Who would she tell anyway—her book?” Gwen scoffed. “Besides, you are way more likely to blurt out something than she is.” She glanced at the clock on the wall — thankfully it was almost the end of the school day. Only one more class left, Math with Mrs. Jager.

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort but stopped when they heard the creak of the classroom door.

  The teacher walked in and the class quieted immediately. While the teacher’s broad shoulders and lack of hair on anything but his arms made him command attention on his own, he was not alone when he entered. Behind him stood a familiar face with a trademark cheekbone scar and hair so dark it was almost comical that he considered himself blond—only to be more likable to his Führer, Gwen was sure. He was a face of authority to almost all of them for one reason or another due to his local reputation: Officer Walter Volk.

  “Good morning, students,” Mr. Hall began. “We have with us today a phenomenal example of progress and ambition in the Schutzstaffel, Walter Volk. You may have seen him in the square in the mornings where he patrols before returning to the office. He has taken time out of his day to be here and wants to talk to you about your future!”

  Mr. Hall looked at them with expectations—expectations Gwen knew she could never fulfill. She liked to believe that she thought for herself, but she wasn’t sure how many of the other students could say the same. She even wondered about Henry. Who, as charming as he seemed, had chosen to work for the police force after he graduated.

  Walter Volk took a lap around the classroom before he began. “You, as you know, are very privileged to be a part of our society. Our Deutsche heritage and the struggles of our people to maintain our purity has been a constant battle. I’m sure your teacher has taught you about Darwin’s survival of the fittest?” He looked around the classroom at a few nodding students, but the lack of enthusiasm seemed to go over his head.

  Gwen, for one, rolled her eyes and hoped he didn’t notice. Her stomach churned. How could Henry associate himself with a man like that? It was no secret he often worked with Walter Volk.

  “Well, we are the survivors. We always come back on top, despite those who bring us down.” His eyes scanned the room and fell on Joe for just a moment. “Just a few years ago, the world tried to put us down, but Hitler reminded us of who we are! We are the volksgemeinschaft, and we have a duty to this community. Many of you, I’m sure, have joined with our Hitler Youth, to arm yourselves with the proper knowledge and skill to become a good German citizen. With this current war, it is even more important that we unite as a people to show the world that Germany is strong and powerful. You may have begun to think about what you want to do when you finish school and I want to talk to you about some of the choices you have…”

  Choices? Gwen laughed to herself, a lot of people hadn’t had much of a choice lately. It was a shame really that even as the man was talking, not a single person in the classroom said a word. Some, Gwen was sure, shared her sentiments, but they didn’t have the voice to say anything either.

  It was the same in every classroom, and every workplace. T
eachers had been removed from the classroom for saying anything against Hitler and it was her boneheaded classmates that had made it happen.

  Their textbooks had changed; Hitler was in all of them. Even the lessons included more and more about blood and race relations. Of course, there were physical traits passed down by blood, but that didn’t make one person better than another. The first time it was so blatantly placed in her face, was when Mr. Hall opened a lesson earlier in the year with a quote: “Not every being with a human face is human.” - Carl Schmitt.

  Her thoughts drifted back to Henry. Maybe she had been wrong about him. It wasn’t as if people openly opposed the common thought and teachings. That could have detrimental consequences. Even she wouldn’t dare say aloud that she was against it. She decided then that the next time she saw Henry, she would give him another chance. He was cute, after all.

  Chapter 8

  Walter

  Walter Volk returned to his office after visiting the school; he could only hope his efforts had recruited a few of those kids to join in under him. He loved that part of his new promotion. Kids were the faces of the future and the new school curriculums really had such progressive information to create something amazing. They were lucky to be growing up now; his school experience had been drastically different during the first World War.

  The problem was, they didn’t all see their potential. While many sat attentive and processing, he could see doubt on some of their faces. Even just one was too many.

  He paced his office floor, running his hands through his short hair. He had other things to worry about right now. They’ll all come around, he told himself, especially since most of the Jews had already been deported and the distraction removed. There were only a few left for him to deal with, but he hadn’t heard from his superior in the past week and was getting antsy to take action against them. The Führer had started to speed up the transportation of undesirables and to keep up, Walter needed orders.

  There was a knock at the door and his secretary, Margot, poked her head in. “Is this a bad time, Walt?” She slipped through the doorway and closed the door quietly behind her. Walter welcomed her as she came in closer than a secretary should. She cloaked her body beneath his and kissed him softly. She pulled away with a smirk, leaving him in the middle of the room out of breath. She strolled over to sit on top of the desk.

  Walter followed her stride and began fiddling with some papers—not that they had the answers he was looking for.

  He forced his mind back to the job at hand. The Führer must be stretched too thin. The war was throwing everything out of whack. Walter was in no position to contact the leader himself, though. He hadn’t ranked high enough for that—yet.

  Margot’s presence was distracting him, and she knew it. She sat there staring at him and playing with something in her slender hands.

  “This is for your daughter,” Margot said.

  “What is it?”

  “It's a book.” She raised her eyebrows and her red lips smiled coyly.

  “What kind of book?”

  “A fairy tale. One of the new ones recreated by the Reich. It's called Beauty and the Beast. She will love it, I promise.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek, making him blush as she placed the book on his desk behind him.

  “Don’t let me distract you,” she said, eyeing him, “You have a lot of work to do; you are an important man. You make things happen.” She moved away from the desk and sat on the sofa, crossing her legs. The office was small, and her legs long. From the couch, her legs could almost touch his desk, yet the office was bigger than Walter’s last.

  He told her his predicament, trying to keep in the forefront of his mind that he had a wife and children at home. If he did well, they were taken care of. The Reich had made them successful and influential in society; they had changed everything.

  It was for them that he got involved with Margot in the first place. She had helped him advance a lot in his career, but he’d gotten just a little more than he bargained for.

  “Should I make another move on my own?” he asked, knowing she knew what was bothering him. She always knew.

  “If you feel it's the best idea, go for it.” She leaned over the couch and laid her head on her arms lazily. She pushed her brown curls behind her ear. “You know what you are doing, and so far, you have never been told no. The raid you did a few weeks ago went well. But you need to relax... I think a full belly will help. I’ll tell that new cook of yours to make you something good to help mull things over.”

  She hopped off the couch and disappeared for a few minutes before rejoining a pacing Walter and settling back on the couch.

  “I mean, these people have ruined everything, right? They are the reason for all the disease and economic depression we have experienced! They put my own family in debt. Surely, the sooner we get them all out of our territory, the better off we will be,” Walter said as he retreated behind his desk and back to his paperwork. He had a huge stack of papers with names of Jewish residents in his small town, many of which had already been transported to a work camp, but there were still a few who flew under the radar. They were the sneaky ones, the least trustworthy, the ones he didn’t mind sending off to the new camps.

  The door creaked, and they quieted at the intrusion. Margot gave Walter a look as if to say “are you gonna get that?” because she certainly wasn’t. He obliged and opened the door to find a young Jewish man ready with his lunch.

  “You can put that on my desk, Jew.”

  “It’s Adam,” the boy said but Walter ignored him.

  “...It does smell good,” he said, surprised before looking at Margot and rolling his eyes impatiently. “Schmitt gave way too many Jews to my person. I can’t possibly look over all of them. Too many deals. Have you heard about all that?”

  Margot shook her head. “No, it all happened before I got here, remember?”

  Walter shrugged. “He seems to think the kids aren’t as bad as their parents. He made deals, before they caught him, of course. If the parents were willing to relocate, for a pretty penny the kids could stay and work in the area. And I’m the one who got stuck transporting the parents and dealing with the kids. Most of them stay running their family businesses. Except pigs like this one whose families were shit poor. His parents gave their whole savings to keep him alive. How they got the money, I’ll never know.”

  Walter took a swig of his drink, eyeing the boy with disgust. “Probably stole it. I’ll even bet he’s stolen a thing or two from this office.” He scanned the room, just to be sure everything was in its place.

  “Didn’t you get a cut of the money?” Margot raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean I want—”

  “Enjoy the luxuries they provide you. Alternatively, get rid of them. Schmitt is gone. I don’t care. But they have skills, no?” Margot paused, turning to Adam and looking him up and down. “What is it you do?” She switched her crossed legs opposite of how they were, giving her a better angle to speak with him.

  “I worked in a butcher shop, Ma’am,” Adam said, finishing up with the food and turning to face her. The smell of the pot roast and fresh bread was starting to fill the room.

  “Stop talking. You’re giving me a headache,” Walter complained.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Oh, Walt, it’s not his fault. I—” Margot rubbed Walter’s arm to calm him.

  Walter turned towards the young man. “Place your hand on the desk.”

  Adam looked up at him, confused, but he obeyed.

  “Spread your fingers wide.”

  The young man obeyed again.

  Walter pulled a knife from his desk drawer and began to stick the knife in the desk between each of Adam’s fingers, watching him flinch each time. He stopped for a moment to make eye contact before continuing again, never blinking. “When you are here, you do not speak.” The only sound between his words was the knife embedding into the wood, harder each time. “Next
time, you lose a finger. And I will still expect you to work.”

  Adam nodded, but to Walter, the Jew was like a fly, still buzzing and bothering. “You may go now,” he stated impatiently.

  Adam nodded once more, stumbling over his pants, which were just a bit too long, and made his way out of the room.

  Walter turned back to his papers with a sigh. It had all the information he needed—who was moved, who had evaded it, who was hiding, and who was suspected. That was part of the beauty in a small town, it was so easy to identify. To Walter, it was glorious, his ticket to a higher rank. Some of the names he knew for sure, like the Kanes and the Brodbecks, but those were too easy. He could go get them any time. It was the others who were more fun to hunt. There was a name on there he didn’t expect, a suspected Jew, a little girl he thought he recognized.

  “Hm.” Walter let out a puff of air.

  “What’s that, dear?”

  “Klein. Effie Klein. I know that name.”

  “Well then, I suppose you have a place to start.” Margot smiled.

  “Yes, but I have another on my list first. I think I will get rid of some of Schmitt’s burdens.”

  Chapter 9

  Joe

  Joe ran up the stairs and closed the door a little harder than he intended. His stomach gurgled angrily; the smells of the food he prepared all day made him hungry. It was hard for him to make such lavish desserts in the bakery while he and his sisters practically starved. Naturally, he couldn’t help but steal a bite from time to time, but between the bakery, school, and his sisters, Joe hardly had any time, or food, for himself.

  Despite his exhausted physical and mental state, Joe was always on his toes. Just a few moments prior he stole from a Nazi — for good reason, of course. And it wasn’t really stealing, he simply found the knife on the floor at an opportune time.