Berlin, Germany, 1960

Can’t take this anymore. Trapped. Feeling like tiger in a zoo cage. Pacing back, forth, roaring out of frustration. Cries falling on deaf ears. No one cares about your predicament. They all think it’s the right way to be. After all, imagine the chaos if you got out. It’s better for all, isn’t it?

Better for you. Need to tame, calm down, become what they designed for since before your birth. Better for you, or for them? Better for them, or better for their image?

Out. Out.

Maybe the caged animal spends too much time gazing outside of its bars to look around inside and find the obvious means of escape. Inspect surroundings, cool head, figure things out. Devise plan, carry through, carry through, then freedom. The way it should work. Scientific method. Never fails. Right?

...it wouldn’t hurt so much if I was a person, a being, to him... if I wasn’t just another plan.

And it does hurt.

“Is there something on your mind, Fräulein Hitler?” The voice broke Krista out of her staring trance and she, unmoving, shifted her brown eyes to give the just-arrived servant a quick glance.

“Nein,” was the reply. The girl straightened slightly from her leaning position on the railing, hands going to rest at her sides. Krista’s nearly-numb arms tingled, telling her that she’d been zoned out for quite some time. A last look out at the bustling afternoon city before she gave a turn on her heel, facing the lanky servant at long last. “What is it, Zimmermann?”

Zimmermann gave a hasty bow. “I was told to inform you that SA-Stabschef Weißerrabe has left, and he asked me to deliver this to you.” Digging in his pocket, the tall servant took out a small, off-white and sealed envelope, which Krista eagerly snatched away. She turned from him, holding the envelope in a protective manner.

“Danke,” she hastily said, with a wave of her hand, attempting to shoo Zimmermann from her side. He took the hint; with a strange, hard look he made his exit without another word.

After the man had gone, the teenager’s demeanor calmed nearly at once, narrowed eyes watched him through the glass panes of the balcony door as he disappeared down the hallways. Her grip on the letter loosened a little, and she raised it to her eye level, a smirk creeping onto her face.

It read, ‘For the eyes of Fräulein Hitler, exclusively and strictly.’

Wasting no time she tore apart the carefully-placed wax seal, marring the perfect SA insignia imprinted in it. In only seconds the letter was open in her hands, and with another paranoid glance around, she read its contents:

‘Meine zukünftige Führerin:

The preparations are completed. We are now only awaiting your word to advance plans. I have also spoken with Schleiermacher, he means to inform you that he has prepared a small task force, and it is awaiting orders if the need should arise. Albrecht of the SS has assured me, also, that he has significantly prepared and is at the ready. Einsatz Königshaus is now prepared for execution. The rest is up to you, Fräulein. Good luck and Godspeed, and it is in your best interest to destroy this letter.

SA-Stabchef AdelmarWeißerrabe’

Sighing, Krista folded up the letter and envelope. Her eyes closed, simply taking in the air of the city. Folding her hands in front of her, she began to whisper to herself.

“It has come to tonight, then.”

Krista re-opened her eyes, a more determined sort of glance reflected in her features now. Dark-painted lips curled into a smile, and turning from the balcony she made her way back inside.

---

The letter turned black and curled as the streak of flame flew across it. At length, a flame of bluish hue began to emit from the center of it, spreading and destroying the parts that had not already been blackened. A few ashes blew from the incense tray, the air current of the room having been disturbed by a swift move from Krista, who had walked swiftly past her dresser with a black pant-suit on a hanger.

Carefully, she approached the end of her enormous bed. On it were a few suitcases of varying sizes, most containing necessities such as clothing and the like-- she’d be heading out soon. The German laid the neatly pressed suit on the dark comforter and turned to the full-length mirror against the wall.

There was no denying that the teenager was beautiful. Currently only in her underwear, she gave a passing glance at her thin, yet curvy reflection in the silken white undergarments, her long hair hanging loose down half the length of her back. She’d already applied her makeup, dark shadowy powder accented her eyelids and a dark crimson was on her full, soft lips. A quick looking-over of her fingernails, they matched her lip color and were without flaw. Reaching back to the bed, she started to loosen the outfit from its hanger.

She had to look perfect, there was no getting around it. Krista loved to make herself look nice, and despised being caught with a single hair out of place, but this was special. The pants of the suit fell easily loose from the wire hanger’s clips and into her hands. A perfect fit, and not a wrinkle or stain on the pitch black cloth. Next, a button-down shirt of pure white. Then came a scarlet tie, which she fixed into place securely, and a black suit jacket to match the pants, on which she then placed a solid silver swastika emblem with careful accuracy, on the turned-out collar. Only slightly faded black stockings, and then a new pair of shining black dress shoes.

A pendant gleamed on the dresser in the corner of her eye, and was quickly snatched up-- a silver Odal Shield pendant on a chain that she had been given by Himmler before he passed away. Two matching Life Runes made into earrings were also picked from the selection atop the cherry-wood dresser, and an SS Honor Ring was slipped onto her thin ring finger. Adjusting her hair again, she gave another glance to the mirror while spraying her wrists and throat with a light, musky perfume. Atop her hair she placed a headband that matched the tie she wore, and deemed herself as nearly ready.

The final touch. It had been made especially for her, she had ordered it... the opening of a drawer, the pulling out of a decorated black box. The insides of it were lined in blue velvet, and resting atop that velvet was a gun. This was no ordinary gun. It bore a light silver, brushed-metal surface to it, and etched along the barrel of it and filled in with a paint were designs of lengthy vines of pitch black roses, and her family name in runes below it on each side.

It was a feeling she enjoyed, the knowledge that she had something that no one else possibly did. A superior feeling, that someone would see it and be envious of her, desire what she had... just a feeling she couldn’t help, and yet loved...

Shoving the gun into a holster, Krista carefully strung the leather thing onto a belt, fitting the belt carefully through the leather loops of the faux snakeskin gun-holder and finally fitting the object around her waist, fitting it with painstaking accuracy in the front. A last vain glance to her reflection in the mirror.

Her heart was racing as she pushed open the door to her chambers and began traversing down the hallway, looking around her in a paranoid manner but with ever-perfect posture, trying too hard to look natural. She was far too excited. Krista felt the anxiety coming over her like a fever, a near-sickly tingling all over her body.

Her father had asked to see her, so no one would possibly question what she would be doing lingering around the Chancellor’s office at these strange hours. It was merely another coincidence, another freak incident like the others that kept happening, and she couldn’t object-- after all, things were going far better than could be expected. Her operations hadn’t hit a single glitch the entire night.

A noisy, carved cherry clock in the hall told her it was about half an hour before midnight, half an hour before the turning point. Her wandering thoughts stopped upon the date that was to come in the next few minutes-- wasn’t the thirtieth of April some day she was supposed to know? Perhaps not, perhaps she was only caught up in the infamy that day would soon bear, whether she were to fail or succeed.

She was trembling when she reached the office doors. They were towering, almost intimidating. The secretary next to the door was gone, as expected. She started to pull open the door by its heavy iron knob after a deep inhale of breath. Her nerves were less than calm.

The man behind the desk glanced up, remaining in his hunched over position above the desktop but only shifting his dark, aged eyes to the door to catch a single glimpse of the visitor. The stress in his face seemed to immediately wash away as his daughter strode into the room, unaware of the strange apprehension surrounding her, and a weary smile crept onto Adolf Hitler’s face.

“Krista,” he stated with tired joy.

She gave him a slightly bowing nod. “Vater.” She confirmed. Her expression remained a stoic one.

“I was almost worried you had decided not to see me tonight.”

“If I did not, Vater, it is for fear of what you might have to say to me,” Her eyes wandered to a painting on the wall.

Adolf brought his elbows onto the desk, folding his hands and resting his chin upon them as he watched his only child, tense, almost unable to hold still, attempt to remain placid in front of him.

“Meine Tochter... what is weighing on your mind? You know your time for being ridiculed for your little... stunt...” he almost spied a glare from Krista, “...back in Januar is over.”

“I know, Vater.” The teenager let her shoulders relax in an attempt to look less tense.

A long pause. “Are you not curious as to why I asked to see you?”

“I am.”

Hitler was almost becoming frustrated by Krista’s demeanor. There were a few more seconds of silence while a wooden grandfather clock against the wall ticked away.

She went on. “But I was simply going to wait for you to tell me. I was not aware I would be participating in any guessing games tonight.”

He gave a grunt-- her attitude was growing tiresome. “Then play no games, Krista. I was going to inform you that I have arranged a date to publicly announce your engagement to Herr Schwarzwald.”

The black-haired girl turned to face him at last, a strange smirk playing on her lips. “And you could not have simply sent me a memo?”

Leaning back in his chair, her father crossed his arms, eyeing her with an air of scrutiny. Looking stricter than before. “Nein, Krista. And it is because I know you have been troubled about this arrangement since the very beginning. I want to calm any fears you might have--”

Krista almost laughed to this. “You think I am afraid?”

Suppressed anger. “Don’t interrupt me, Krista. And, ja. I think you are afraid.”

The bemused smile did not fade from the girl’s face, superiority twinkling in her brown eyes as she straightened her posture a bit, folding her hands behind her. “I assure you, wholeheartedly, Vater, that I am not... afraid.”

Hitler’s expression remained annoyed. “What is the problem then?”

She tilted her head. “Have you ever read any of the history of China?”

“What,” he sighed, “does this have to do with what we were discussing?”

“Hear me out, will you, Vater?” A twisted smirk. She began to pace a little, side to side but nearing the desk slightly more with each turn of her heel. Her voice remained eerily soft. “China, until about a hundred years ago, was a great Empire, ruled by great Emperors that wielded absolute power. They were worshipped as if they were gods, or symbols of the gods. As if they were sent down from the heavens, and those who challenged their authority were crushed like insects.” At this point her eyes were searching out the window, carefully, watching and waiting for something.

“Krista, I don’t see--”

“I am not finished,” she continued. “The Emperors were born into power, raised by families with the pure royal blood. It was that bloodline that made them fit to rule the Empire, and one family would continue for even a thousand years, in a grand and beautiful dynasty where a single name ruled all.”

Adolf’s eyes narrowed. It had become clear what his daughter was hinting at. “Krista. We have discussed this, multiple times...”

He continued to speak but Krista’s attention had left him. From the top of a building across the street, she had finally spied what she had been waiting for... a flashing red light. It blinked several times, then ceased, then blinked a few more times before the light vanished. Krista smirked, giving a quick glance to the security camera in the corner. Sure enough, the tiny red power light was out.

By the time her gaze met her father’s again, her complete confidence had returned to her. A hateful glance to the only light in the room, a golden-shining lamp on the edge of the desk. Krista was now close enough that she allowed her fingers to graze the lampshade temporarily before Hitler roared out:

“Krista! Are you paying attention to me!”

Calm in her voice, though her father’s yelling sent a trembling through her. “Of course not, Vater. You know I never do when you go on and on like that.”

Adolf’s rage seemed to grow, but he visibly tried to calm, lowering his voice to her at the sight of her shiver.

“But,” Krista went on, “You don’t seem to understand.”

The frustration was still visibly and audibly in the Leader’s voice as he glared at his daughter in reprimand. “What do I not understand, Krista?”

The black-haired girl was beginning to circle around one side of his desk, but he remained glaring forward, arms crossed in a stern mannerism. “That a Dynasty... will begin here.”

Hitler cleared his throat. “Nein, Krista. It will not. I have made up my mind.”

His daughter was smoothly pulling her silvery gun from its holster, being sure to make no sound. “You may have, but it makes little difference now.”

The Führer froze in place. Cold metal was in contact with the side of his head, pushing him forward ever-so-slightly. Fear began tingling through wouldn’t... she couldn’t...

“Because you see, Vater, our name will become a great and glorious Dynasty, whether you would grant me permission to make this happen or not.” Krista’s dominating smile grew as the clock against the wall chimed away the midnight hour.

He could only tremble; closing his eyes harshly as his arms slowly came onto his desk, leaning forward and giving in to the nudges of the gun barrel. Hitler cringed slightly as he heard the safety being clicked off.

“Funny,” she said. “Everyone thinks you still have this pretty gun of mine, you’ve still confiscated it. I suppose even you didn’t know I stole it back...”

No answer, just a hateful glare as much as he could back to her.

“Hold still, now, Vater.” And in the silence, she pulled the trigger.

The old man’s body gave a strange jerk, falling forward with an unpleasant sound onto his desk. Dark blood immediately began to pool atop it. Krista had no time to waste. Carefully, she positioned her father’s hand and placed the gun in it, taking the velvet cloth the pistol was usually wrapped in from her pocket and dropping it on the floor. Giving a feminine scream into the air, she ran and nearly collided with the far wall of the office, cringing against it and pulling her knees up against her chest. The little red light on the security camera came back on. Forcing herself to shiver and doing the best she could, she let false tears well up in her eyes.

It was only seconds before the on-duty guards from the outside hallway came running in. They nearly knocked the door down, pulling out their own pistols and aiming them around the room frantically. Krista internally smiled... it’s performance time.

“Nein!” She screamed. “Vati-i-i! Nein!”

Trembling, she was taken into the arms of a strong guard, while the other two that had entered inspected the scene. The blonde man that held her started to half-carry her out, outside of his view she dragged her hands over her face to further smear her dark makeup. Krista’s crocodile tears were coming more steadily now, fake-sobbing heavily into the shoulder of the guard that held her. Behind them, she could hear the soft voices of the other two guards, who had just concluded that the Leader had shot himself.

Among them came more people, attracted by all the noise and commotion. Several more guards, who were immediately told to keep the crowd back. The man that had taken Krista out still held her, trying desperately to calm her ‘hysterics’ while the guards told the curious people to leave her be.

More important, familiar faces started to appear. Who else but Joseph Goebbels, who was a notorious insomniac and workaholic, should be nearby enough to come running to the scene. The office doors had been shut but the diminutive Propagandist was allowed to push his way through, casting an odd look to Krista as he went into the office.

In nearly the same instant that Goebbels disappeared into the office, another pushed his way past the guards... none other than Stephan Schwarzwald. His look faded into one of concern, as a guard informed him of the situation, but then he looked down to Krista as she was gazing up to him.

It was fatal. Their eyes met, and only a few seconds of looking into the black-haired girl’s eyes seemed to anger Stephan.

Krista saw it-- he knew.

Instead of remaining at the scene, he stormed away with a final, unseen to most, glare to his fiancée. She leaned up into the ear of the man who held her, whispering, as she suspiciously watched Joseph Goebbels exit the office hastily.

“Notify Schleiermacher. Inform him that his task force must visit my fiancée at once.”

The guard nodded, starting to release her as he whispered back. “Ja, meine zukünftige Führerin.”