Belinda Hainsworth smiled. She always smiled when Alexsis looked at her. She wanted him to look. She yearned for him to look. Why shouldn’t he? She was very beautiful. At 25, Belinda was considered the very model for Aryan society. Long blonde hair framed her perfect face. Her dark blue eyes were the color of indigo satin, and her full, heart-shaped lips made it difficult for any man to resist planting a passionate kiss on them. Belinda had a way of making even the most chaste man give into her. But she wanted none of them.
Belinda wanted Alexsis Dering. Unfortunately he was far from besotted with her. She always admired him from afar, never truly knowing him. Rumors of his many affairs ran unchecked through Auschwitz. His father was very influential in Germany. Alexsis held power that she wanted. She wanted him. She would make him desire her. Pretty soon, Alexsis would be clay in her hands, molded however way she desired. Of course, being quite drunk, she had destroyed her chance of accomplishing that this morning. Why had she been drunk? She didn’t remember. Obviously this was having a bad effect on whatever feelings Alexsis may have had for her before. Then again, he had seemed a little annoyed already first starting the inspection of her barrack. Why on earth had he been so concerned for the little Jewish brat?
The girl had been a thorn in Belinda’s side since she arrived. Nothing she did could come out right. She was lazy and much too frail and delicate. Being 17, she had escaped the gas that had claimed so many other useless Jews. Oh, but she was beautiful. Even thin and starving, this girl had beauty that rivaled even Belinda’s. For that reason more than any other, Belinda hated her. She had relished the task of beating her this morning. It was intoxicating to see that beautiful, pale white skin ripped open, her deep blue eyes laced with pain and her full, sensuous lips split, when, in her drunken state, Belinda missed and hit her mouth instead. Belinda rarely felt such pleasure. Of course that pleasure quickly diminished when she’d learned that Alexsis wanted the girl. If she’d known that she wouldn’t have landed the girl in the hospital. She would have kept her in perfect condition. Then maybe Alexsis’ attitude toward her wouldn’t have been so sour. But every time Belinda brought down that whip it had been more and more impossible for her to stop. Her frustration had evaporated and she hadn’t felt so alive since first coming to Auschwitz. Of course she had felt pleasure, ridding Germany of its worst enemies, but it wasn’t until today that she felt true joy. Alexsis had looked at her. Even though it hadn’t been the look of an infatuated fool, Belinda would find a way to change it. Soon all of the affairs Alexsis had ever had with other women would be history. He would be hers. She would make him so obsessed with her, he would forget all others. Then she, Belinda Hainsworth, would be the only woman with the power to control him.
-Three Days Later-
Hadassah woke to a splitting headache. Dry blood matted her dark hair where the bandage failed to soak up the blood, and her back stung painfully. Despite her agonizing disposition, Hadassah felt relief. It was good to sleep in a real bed again with only one person sleeping beside her.
She tried to sit up only to feel a pain so sharp it momentarily paralyzed her. It was a second before her lips had the strength to part in order to let the scream escape. A nurse, with perhaps a little more heart than all the rest, took notice of her. Gently taking hold of Hadassah’s hand and holding the back of her neck, she helped ease Hadassah back into the bed.
“Rest now,” She said rather gruffly. “I’ll go get your medicine.”
Hadassah lay back down, too tired to respond. A lone tear streamed down her face, taking a shortcut down the side of her cheek. She quickly brushed it away. The nurse returned with a doctor. They spoke amongst themselves for a while and then the doctor returned to his duties.
“Her back looks bad, but it will take at least a month to heal. We can’t keep her here that long. Give her another three or four days. If the wounds still bleed, just have her wear the bandages to work.”
“Yes sir.” She turned to Hadassah, gently moving her so her wounds wouldn’t be irritated again. She took off all her bandages and rubbed a poultice on her wounds, all the while saying nothing. Exhausted, Hadassah fell into a dreamless sleep.
Alexis was having a hard time sleeping. He wanted to visit Hadassah, but that would only raise suspicion. He could of course say that he was there for inspection purposes. Yes, perhaps he would try that. No one could possibly have any reason to distrust him then.
He was worried about Hadassah. Alexsis hadn’t seen her since their last night together. What if she didn’t survive? She had never been physically strong. What if she contracted some horrible disease from her bunkmates? Questions assailed Alexsis’ mind. He tossed and turned, then finally gave up altogether and tried to work on some paperwork assigned to him. The task, however, proved an unfit diversion for his troubled mind.
Alexsis pulled an old cigar box out of his upper closet drawer. Under a pile of letters from his mother, lay a picture of Hadassah before the war. He had begged her to give it to him on one of their few nights together. She was gorgeous now but compared to the picture Hadassah was only a skeleton of the beauty she had been. No sign of stress or fatigue showed on her perfect face. Her then smooth lips were curved into a smile suggesting that she thought many things remarkably funny. Her hair hung smooth and glossy down her back and her big, doe eyes sparkled warmly. A tear streamed down his face. Hadassah never laughed here. Many times, Alexsis could barely get her to smile. He wanted her near him, now more than ever. He yearned to keep her safe, to fold her in his arms and cover her with his kisses.
Depressed, Alexsis put the picture back in the box and pulled out something else. It was Hadassah’s Christmas present. He carefully opened the velvet box and pulled out the embroidered silk pouch. Inside, hanging on a length of black velvet was an oval 24-karat white gold locket. On the outside was a delicate arrangement of graceful flowers, and on the inside he had had inscribed:
“My love, May I never go a night without kissing your rosy lips or caressing your lovely face. Even though I have said it many times before, I love you, and will keep on loving you, even after I die.”
Alexsis smiled. Hadassah would love it. He only wished he could keep her here with him forever. Alexsis suddenly sat up, so surprised was he by this sudden, genius idea. Perhaps he should keep Hadassah with him as his assumed mistress for a while. He had the idea before but now thought about it with new light. She would be safe and they could be together whenever they pleased. Alexsis only needed to say the word for it to be done. Everyone else would only think that she was with him because he needed pleasure in this gloomy place.
Tomorrow, he would visit the infirmary and tell the nurse that Hadassah was to stay with him upon her recovery. In the next few weeks they would finally be able to spend time with each other without fear of discovery. Hadassah would be able to rest to her hearts content. If Alexsis was lucky, he might even see her smile.
Hadassah woke to a hazy blur. She couldn’t move and every part of her body felt hot and achy. She closed her trembling eyelids then quickly opened them, rather alarmed. Where was she? How had she ended up here? Hadassah licked her chapped lips and began to pant heavily. She wanted to scream but no sound would leave her lips. She heard voices, one of them strangely familiar. A sigh escaped her lips as a cold towel wiped her forehead and then her arms, neck and legs. Her head was held up and cool water touched her lips and soothed her sore throat. Hadassah swallowed eagerly and was slowly backed down into her pillow. She closed her eyes, willing herself to fall back into that painless world were she could feel nothing but relief from this agony she was in.
Alexsis walked into the infirmary, nearly overpowered by the stench of sweat and blood. Finding a nurse, he explained his wishes.
“I want that one, over there.” He said indifferently. “As soon as she’s recovered, she’s to be brought to my rooms.”
“But sir, she is far from well. Our doctor has already given orders for her to be gassed. Why not pick yourself a healthy one. Now I can recommend…”
She talked on and on, shredding Alexsis’ already bristled nerves. He closed his eyes for a moment, yearning to shut her out. What did she mean Hadassah was to be gassed? What bastard had given those orders? For a few moments Alexsis had to struggle to compose himself. Finally, he opened his eyes and stared coldly at the woman, speaking slowly in a low voice as he struggled to contain his anger.
“I don’t want any other girl. I’ll take her.” he said pointing fiercely over to Hadassah’s bunk.
“And fatten her up!” he continued, “I won’t have any girl who looks as thin as the barbed wire outside.”
“Yes Herr Dering.” She said quickly, visibly quaking in her leather boots.
Alexsis walked away, taking one last look at Hadassah as he left the room.
Belinda watched as Alexsis exited the infirmary, too irritated and in a hurry to notice her. Why was he there. As she remembered it wasn’t his turn to examine the infirmary. Ignoring the temptation to follow him, Belinda walked into the infirmary herself. The little Jewess had been there for some time now. It was time for her to either get up or get out, and the only way out was through the chimneys of the crematoria. Belinda smirked. Although it would have given her unexplainable pleasure to hear the brat’s muffled screams from the gas chamber, she didn’t want to let her off the hook so easily. Before the whore died, Belinda would make sure she experienced terror beyond her wildest dreams.