Disclaimer:
Oscar Schindler and his story are not affiliated with me.. No infringements of these
copyrights are intended, and no money is made of it.
Disclaimer
2: This story was written as a tribute to the wonderful universe created by
Beverly (Bjjones). Her Sylum Stories and the entire
world she’s created made me write this. Sylum and the universe is hers, I just
play with it.
The price of remembering
By
Valerie
„It’s a pleasure to do
business with you.”
He smiled at the young
American and handed over the promised amount before he pointed with his head
towards the waiting truck.
“I trust you already have
your share.”
The elegantly dressed man
smiled and nodded, watching the American walk away he sneered and shook his
head knowing only too well why the other hurried away. He liked to do business
with the Germans, but he didn’t want to see the results of it. Sneering once more,
he told his men to silently move around the truck with their weapons ready. He
smiled as he waited for the unveiling, loving the moment when the cargo
realized that they had been sold to the enemy.
Standing in the light, he
made sure that his uniform and his smile was the first thing they would see he
nodded at one of the soldiers. One tug, another one and the doors of the old
truck fell open.
Two dozen people stared at
him and he could see the moment when the runes on his uniform registered in
their minds.
“Welcome in Germany, now
if you would be so nice and disembark please. Men on this
side, women and children on the other.”
He loved the fear in their
eyes, but waited silently until they had followed his orders. Only then did he
nod at his men and point at the women and children.
“Kill them.”
It was a matter of
economics, men survived longer with less food. He watched coldly as the guns
felled one woman after the other.
---
Dalton Russell woke with a
scream that still echoed through the room as he tried to calm his racing heart.
Looking at the clock on the nightstand he saw that it was 2am and still
breathing hard he got up and tried to make his legs cooperate enough to carry
him to the bathroom.
The same nightmare, the same
horrors every night...
A bitter smile crossed his
face. No, it wasn’t the same nightmare, it had variations. Sometimes he saw
himself shooting a woman, just because she had spilled some milk, other nights
he walked past skeleton-like human beings randomly pointing at some and
shooting them.
One thing never changed in
those dreams though and that was his attire.
In his dreams he wore the
crisp black uniform of the SS.
It scared him to death that he
would see himself like this in his dreams. He had never been xenophobic or had
any issues with Jews and he couldn’t understand these thoughts and yet the
dreams remained. He returned to the bedroom with a heavy sight, when he saw the
red light on his answering machine. He pressed the button and immediately a
slightly accented voice sounded through the room.
“Dear Mr. Russell, I have some
information regarding the persons you have been looking for.”
A slow smile lit up his eyes.
After having been haunted by those dreams for a couple of weeks, he had met
with someone who specialized in finding people that had disappeared after the
fall of the 3rd Reich. He had given the man the description of the
American banker and the name he had called himself in his dreams.
Amon Goeth
---
*12 Months later*
The take over happened so fast
that no one had a chance to react. One moment, there were normal customers
withdrawing money or making transactions and in the next there was mayhem and
chaos. Smoke and cries sounded through the noble halls and the stench of fire
made people retch. When the smoke cleared the armed robbers had the people in
the bank under control. The leader was a man with no recognizable accent, at
least that’s what two-third of the hostages said. The other third swore that it
was a woman with large breasts and a slight polish accent.
The entire hostage situation
took 32 hours during which two hostages were executed in front of the police
while the media frenzy grew into an almost unmanageable chaos. Food and
microphones were brought in but when the microphones started to transmit, the
robbers spoke a foreign language. It took forever to determine what language it
was and then to find someone who spoke Armenian, but in the end all the woman
could tell them was that they were listening to a taped speech of an old and
dead dictator.
The detective in charge was a
specialist in hostage negotiations and while he managed to talk to the leader
twice, he didn’t seem to get any further.
And then politics got involved
and everything went straight to hell.
The robbers had chosen the
bank for a reason, but neither the media nor the police knew about that little
tidbit. There were only two people that did apart from the robbers. Arthur
Case, the owner and founder of the bank and Madeline White, the woman he had
authorized to make a deal with the robbers. It was a deal which was so
lucrative, that everyone was sure the robbers would agree. The cops called it
crazy and for once the media agreed with them. The robbers though refused, they
knew about the real value of this bank and saw the offered deal as an insult.
After 32 fruitless hours the
SWAT team stormed the building. Not one shot was fired, not one robber found.
What they found instead were 28 people, all dressed in white coveralls and dark
sunglasses.
The hostages were driven to
the police station for interrogation, the police knew that 24 of them were
innocent victims, but they also knew that 4 of them had just robbed a bank and
killed two people. Detective Keith Frazier was in the middle of an
interrogation when he got a call from the SWAT leader.
They had found the executed
hostages only that they were not human, but crash test dummies. Frazier
swallowed hard, but before he could even get a word out, the SWAT man continued
by telling him that the weapons used during the robbery were fake plastic guns.
Frazier thanked the officer and shook his head. He was still stunned as he
walked over and welcomed the CSI team.
He briefed Detective Mac
Taylor and the CSI only shook his head.
“We have two faked executions,
lots of fake blood and two dozen of faked weapons. What we don’t have yet, is
anything real about this robbery.”
He might have spoken in jest,
but Detective Taylor had no idea.
He had just spoken the truth.
---
Danny looked at his mate. He
could feel the tension through their bond and he knew that Mac tried to get
anything reasonable out of this weird bank robbery. It was eerily silent in the
entry hall and for a second Danny was tempted to whisper. He shook his head at
the crazy impulse and pointed towards the cameras.
“I’ll check them and the
wall.”
Mac nodded and looked at
Stella and Lindsey.
“The two of you take the safe
and the safe boxes.”
The two women looked at each
other and disappeared. Mac smiled at Sheldon.
“We take the stairs and the
first floor.”
Hearing them walk upstairs,
Danny soon forgot about his surroundings as he lost himself in his work.
Without realizing what he was doing, he scanned the area with his enhanced
senses, but there was nothing to pick up. Whoever had committed the robbery,
they had been very, very careful. Danny sighed and was about to turn around
when he saw it. It was right under the middle counter, glaring white in the
light of his torch and Danny knew immediately that this was not something the
robbers had forgotten. This sheet had been left behind on purpose. He took it
carefully and frowned at the words.
To act means to face the
consequences.
Danny frowned and wondered
what Mac would think of it. He bagged the letter and grabbed his kit, when
Stella and Lindsey walked up the stairs. They both looked confused and
surprised.
“What’s wrong?”
Stella looked at him and
shrugged.
“Nothing appears to be
missing; it looks as if they haven’t even broken through the gate. All the
money is there; all the deposit boxes are closed. There is nothing, no prints,
no traces... Nothing.”
Danny showed the paper he had
found and as he was just reading the words once again loud, Mac walked down the
stairs.
“Let’s get back to the lab and
check the weapons and the dummies. Danny I need you to compare this box with
the list the bank gave us.”
Danny groaned, but he took the
box with the old cards and started comparing the old deposit box opening cards
with the new computer print out. It was a sign of how old the bank was, he
thought, but then frowned as he realized that it wasn’t that long ago, that
people had had to get by without computers. He shook his head. He was glad he
had been born now. A surge of love through his bond with Mac made him look up
and his eyes locked with his mate’s. He smiled softly and broke the look as he
turned back to his accounts.
“491, 493, 493...”
His smile faltered as he
looked in vain for account 493 in the print out. Checking once again, he
frowned and shook his head. The list showed a deposit
“Stella, you took pictures of
the deposit boxes, didn’t you?”
Stella turned in her chair and
looked at him.
“I need 490 to 500, can you zoom in on them?”
She showed him the picture on
the large screen and Danny scowled. 493 existed, what was going on? He showed
the list to Stella and saw that she too didn’t understand what this was about.
Zooming in even closer, Danny gasped as he noticed the tiny little X in the
left corner.
“They were in there.”
Lindsey’s comment made Danny
nod, but at the same time he still didn’t get it.
“But if they were in the room,
why did they leave all the money behind?”
Neither Lindsey nor Stella had
an answer to this, but Mac’s entrance made them look at him confused. He looked
angry, but calm.
“Whatever you’re just been
doing, stop it. I’ve just been told to stop the investigation. The bank says
that nothing has been stolen, we have no suspects and therefore no case.”
Danny shook his head and
pointed to the enlarged picture on the screen.
“And what if the point was not
to get something out? What if they wanted to leave something behind?”
Stella looked at him and
paled.
“A bomb?”
Danny shrugged and remembering
the message he had found, he grabbed the sheet of paper.
“To act means to face the
consequences... maybe someone had a serious grudge.”
Mac nodded slowly and started
to dial on his phone. Danny watched frustrated as his mate used the next hour
to convince the DA that it was an urgent matter and that maybe the case wasn’t
closed as they had thought. Finally Mac got the DA’s permission and with a sigh
he called the bomb squad and briefed them. When he put the phone down, he
looked at Danny and shook his head.
“Someone really wants us to
leave this bank alone.”
---
It wasn’t exactly comfortable,
but he had food and water and a bottle to pee into. The watch next to him told
him that he had another 5 minutes to spend in his makeshift prison and then he
would walk out a rich and free man.
Dalton was in the main hall
when the bomb alarm ran and he followed the other customers outside quickly.
Two men stood next to the bomb squad and he looked at them before he finally
nodded satisfied. He had recognized Mac Taylor and he was sure that the CSI
would be able to follow the evidence. He had left plenty of bread crumbs for
him to find after all.
Dalton smiled, soon enough the
last act of the perfect robbery would start. It was an act reserved for the
minor roles, the police and the CSIs and he trusted them to perform as
perfectly as he had played his own part. Once again he smiled before he got
into the waiting car. Two arms immediately sneaked around his neck, but he
didn’t pay too much attention. Instead he looked at the Rabbi sitting opposite
him. For a moment their eyes met and he saw understanding and compassion in the
dark eyes.
“We’ve done it.”
Dalton nodded, but as he
looked at the diamond encrusted ring in his hand, he wondered why he didn’t
feel happier.
---
Mac followed the bomb squad
with his eyes as they entered the building. He was tense like he always was
when explosives were involved, the incident with Don was still too close and
the memory too fresh. It didn’t matter that Don couldn’t die; he still didn’t
want him to hurt. Danny looked at him and he knew that his mate had felt his
thoughts as soft warm feelings flowed through their bond.
“It’s going to be ok.”
Just then the voice of the
bomb squad leader came through the radio.
“Cleared, but there is
something you have to see.”
Looking at each other Mac and
Danny walked swiftly and followed the officer to the now open deposit
“Wow.”
Mac felt the same as he looked
at the diamond ring. He had seen rings like that before, but never like this,
never this intrinsically done. He pulled on his gloves and reached for the box.
There was a piece of gum paper underneath the box and as Mac lifted it up, he
saw the writing on it.
Follow the ring
He looked at the ring again
and narrowed his eyes as he saw the inscription on the box.
“Cartier,
Rue de Champs Elysée, Paris, 11 Avril, 1940.”
Danny had been silent until
now, but as he heard the date, he cursed lightly.
“Holy shit.”
Mac agreed. They had just
found the reason why someone had wanted to bury this entire incident and
looking at his mate, Mac remembered the words on the white sheet.
To act means to face the
consequences.
---
*Six months later,
Germany*
“American Banker involved in
Nazi scandal.”
Dalton smiled as he saw the
headline and walked over to buy the paper. Six months after he had come to
Germany his German was good enough to read a paper like this one where most of
the space was taken up by pictures and screaming headlines. He smiled with
satisfaction and nodded silently. His trust in New York’s finest had not been
misplaced, they hadn’t covered anything up, instead
they had followed the ring. He turned the page and swallowed hard as he saw the
picture of New York’s mayor who handed the ring to an old and frail looking
man.
One ring had found home.
Now it was his turn and as he sat
down for a coffee, his hand slipped into his pocket and fingered the fine
wooden box. The ring it held was even more exquisite, even finer crafted and
even more elaborately done than the one he had left behind for the cops. It was
a ring he had seen many times in his nightmares where he had seen himself take
it from a young woman’s hand and then nod at a guard to lead her towards the
gas chambers.
Dalton shivered. The dreams
disturbed him deeply, but somehow he had felt that this ring was his destiny when
he had seen it in that deposit box. It had made him change his plans. It made
him follow the ring.
He had had help. Perverse as
it sounded, but his first clue about the ring had been his dreams. He knew that
Amon Goeth had been a real
living man and so he had traveled to the country where the SS officer had
lived. He had hoped that someone would remember and help him. But he had found
nothing, nothing but closed doors and hard spoken ‘no’s. The village where Goeth’s death camp had been wasn’t German anymore and the
more questions he had asked the harder the faces of the people had become. He
hadn’t stopped, but one night a group of young men had waited for him.
They had punched him in the
face, in the stomach and told him in clear terms that no one appreciated his
questions and that he should leave the past where it belonged; in the past.
Normally something like that would have made him dig harder, but he had seen
the hatred in their eyes and had given in.
And now he was here,
frustrated because none of his leads had turned up anything, tired because his
sleep was interrupted by nightmares and generally cranky because he hadn’t had
a coffee yet. He clearly wasn’t in his best mood as the red haired woman sat
down opposite him and looked at him with a friendly smile. She pointed towards
the paper and smiled.
“They can run, but one day
their destiny will find them.”
---
Lola looked at the dark haired
man and as he lifted his head and their eyes met, a shiver ran through her. It
had been a hunch to come here and meet the man whose questions had unsettled so
many in that little town near the German border. But as she looked into his
blue eyes, she could see another man looking back at her and just like that she
felt transported back in time.
1942, Germany
Amon, I would like to introduce you to Lola von Damnitz,
she’s a good friend of mine.”
She looked at the SS
officer and a shiver ran through her as their eyes met. His look was
calculating as his eyes slid over her body. She repressed all emotions and smiled
at him before she put a hand on his arm.
“Enchantee,
Ms. Von Damnitz, I am honored to have you as a guest
at this little party.”
Lola could smell the
stench of death that surrounded the other man despite his immaculately ironed
suit and perfectly coiffed hair. It was only the reminder of how important it
was of Oscar to make a good impression on Amon Goeth, that
made her smile and laugh at the right places. It sickened her to see how
everyone in the room was eating and drinking while only meters away people
starved, but once again she kept silent.
“No action without
consequences.”
The deep voice tore her from
her memories and she looked at Dalton Russel. He
smiled but it was a hard and cold smile as he looked down at the image of the
banker being led away by the police. The waitress brought his coffee and Lola
watched fascinated as his face lit up with a real smile while he thanked the
girl. Taking a large gulp, he closed his eyes in joy and suddenly her will
faltered.
She had come here with the intention
of making Dalton leave, had wanted to make sure that the darkness in his soul
would never again hurt her council advisor, but she wasn’t sure about her plan
anymore. Dalton Russell was nothing like she had expected him to be.
“Who are you?”
Clear, intelligent eyes were
fixed on her and she took a deep breath. It was now or never and as he waited
for an answer, she made the decision. She would pray to the trees later, pray
that she had made the right decision, but for now she smiled and started to explain.
“My name is Lola; I work for a
human right’s agency. I got a call from a friend saying that you have been
hassled for asking some questions. I thought that maybe I could help you.”
His eyes narrowed at her words
and he looked down at the table as if he were trying to make up his mind. When
he lifted his head again, all friendliness was gone from his eyes and his voice
was hard.
“Nice try, Lady. But we both
know that’s a lie. Why don’t you tell me what you want? Who sent you?”
A smiled crossed her face for
a moment as she contemplated his last question. No one had sent her, it was pretty much the opposite. If Klaus or Dorian
knew what she had planned, she wouldn’t be here now.
“No one sent me.”
Throwing some money on the
table, Dalton got up and looked at her coldly.
“Tell Case, that he can go to
hell. We didn’t take anything that belonged to him and we’re going to make sure
that he won’t breathe free air again. He acted and now he has to face the
consequences.”
He turned around, but as he
was at the door, Lola called his name.
“Dalton, do you know that
nightmares are the price of remembering?”
She saw how he froze and
paled. He looked at her once more, before he left the coffee shop and she
shivered at the pain she had seen in his eyes. For a long time, Lola sat at the
table and stared at the paper without seeing it. Dorian had told her once that
she was caught in a past that she couldn’t let go. Had he been right? Was she
really caught in the past this much, that she had overlooked Dalton Russell and
only seen his past life?
---
He woke when the bells rang through the camp
seven times. It was his usual time to get up and start his morning routine. A
mile run first, a shower cold of course and once he was dressed and
appropriately attired he stepped out to for breakfast. His maid looked up and
he saw the fear in her eyes. It made him smile and he looked at her
calculatingly. She was getting thin, had lost much of the curves that had
attracted him when he’d seen her at her first day.
Maybe it was time to replace her.
There were trains coming in every day and
maybe it was just time for a change.
He spoke the words calmly and saw how she
paled as she understood the meaning. Her hands trembled as she went on about
her work and he enjoyed the power he had over her. It was obvious that she
wanted to speak, that she wanted to say something, but knowing the rules in his
house, she didn’t dare to.
Some part of him hoped that she would just
make a mistake, something that would give him a reason to replace her
immediately. He continued to just stare at her and promptly her hands trembled
even more and one of the knives she was placing on the table fell down.
He could see her freeze and smiled genially
as he saw tears fill her eyes and with a hand shake he asked her to stand out
on the balcony. Shaking her head in denial she pleaded with him and for a
moment he just enjoyed watching her squirm.
Then he ordered her firmly to stand outside
on the balcony and carelessly passed by her, when he remembered that she hadn’t
finished laying the table.
With an annoyed shout he called her back in
and had her finish her task, it wouldn’t do to leave something unfinished he
told her and smiled while he watched her putting everything out for his
breakfast.
Finally she was done and he followed her out
onto the balcony, she stood against the railing as he’d ordered her. He saw how
several of the prisoners stopped and looked up and immediately gestured to the
guards to stop the disruption.
She looked at him and he stared into her
eyes as he drew his weapon and shot.
Her eyes broke.
He glanced at his weapon and put it onto the
table on the balcony. Looking around he wrinkled his nose.
He hated blood stains on his balcony, and
with a bark he ordered a guard to send him a prisoner to clean up the mess.
He didn’t look back as he walked inside;
there were some letters and memorandums to be answered.
Dalton woke with a scream,
shivering and sweating. It felt as if the dreams were getting worse each day
and he knew that he was reaching his breaking point. The words of the woman
suddenly seemed to hang in the air and he tensed.
“The price of
remembering?”
How could he remember
something that he had never experienced? How could he feel like this monster
and understand his motives when he slept, when the same motives and actions
made him throw up as soon as he woke? Warily he got up and reached for a book
when his phone rang.
“Dalton, I hope I didn’t wake
you.”
He looked at the clock and
smiled as he saw that it showed 3am. Only Rabbi Josh would call him at that
time and expect him to be awake. The older man had been the one who had found
the connections between Goeth and Case and he was
still helping him with his research.
“I found someone who can
possibly help you. His name is Oscar Linder, he’s a
professor of economics at the university of Berlin. He’s also a trustee of the
Oscar Schindler foundation, you know the guy who helped some thousand Jews to
get away from Goeth...”
Dalton felt his heart rate
speed up at the information and quickly noted the name down. This might be the
break he had been looking for.
“Thanks Josh, you’re my hero.”
The older man chuckled and
they continued to chat for a while before Dalton said good bye. He yawned, his
body was exhausted and his eyes burned. He needed sleep, but he was afraid of
the nightmares, and still he fell asleep as soon as he had fallen into bed.
---
Waking up was slow this time
and he felt as if he didn’t want to leave the dream. It had been a nightmare,
but there had been something else, something deeper. Shaking his head to clear
it, Dalton started his computer and without thinking twice he sat down and
started to write the dream down. An hour later he was done and leaned back. He
had a folder full of tales of atrocities and hatred, but this dream didn’t fit.
“I’m going crazy.”
Maybe it really was the only explanation, why else would he have felt such a deep
connection to a man he had never seen? A man who at least in his dream had
killed him? Something occurred to him and he opened another file. He scanned
for the information and tensed as he looked for the date and cause of death of Amon Goeth.
Disappeared during the
liberation of the camp and is assumed to have fallen during the escape...
Sighing deeply Dalton walked
to the bathroom, he was connected to this man. He didn’t like it, but he
couldn’t deny it any longer.
“Now what?”
The shower woke him and as he
returned his eyes fell on the note from Josh. He dressed and called a cab. It
was time to visit Mr. Linder.
---
*Warsaw, Poland*
The couple had walked along
the street. They had exchanged few words, hadn’t touched each other and even
the looks that had passed between them had been short. They had known that
openness wasn’t well liked in their country. They were on their way home when
the seven men ambushed them. They had fought back, but hands and fists were
weak weapons against baseball bats and steel chains. By the time the paramedics
arrived one man was already dead and the other died on the way to the hospital.
The police took statements, but no one had seen anything and the cops didn’t
ask any further.
Two days after the attack the
case was put to the cold cases, it never made the papers.
The man who had sent the mob
onto the couple smiled as he watched the video from the attack. He had been
waiting for over sixty years, but the time seemed finally right.
“The time for morals and hard
working people, the time for us to stand up and fight against those who sin,
the time to reclaim what had been stolen from us...”
He read the paragraph again
and nodded. He liked it, it never outright called for violence and yet everyone
would understand what it meant.
“Mr. Benner?”
His secretary’s voice
interrupted him and he growled lightly.
“Not now.”
But the door opened despite
his refusal and he looked up annoyed. Soon though his expression changed and he
smiled at the intruder.
“Major Koenig.”
The vampire nodded in greeting
while Benner watched him closely.
“What brings you here?”
Koenig smiled and took and envelope
from his suitcase.
“Something that
will interest you.”
The vampire who called himself
Benner opened the enveloped and looked at the picture of a handsome young man.
“Who is he?”
Koenig smiled again and took
his time to study Benner and make him wait before he started to explain.
“He was asking many questions
about Amon, too many if you ask me.”
Benner tensed as he stared at
Koenig and then looked down at the picture again.
“Is it?”
Koenig shrugged, but his face
was serious as he nodded.
“Some of the things he asked
were too much. He can’t know them and then there is this too...”
Benner had of course heard
about Case taking the fall, but only now he saw the connection. He took a deep
breath and looked at the other vampire.
“What’s his name?”
Koenig told him, but the
American name made Benner frown. His hand traced the face on the picture, but
as he looked up, his eyes were cold.
“Bring him to me.”
Koenig nodded and saluted
before he left. Benner looked at the picture and smiled.
“Welcome back Amon.”
---
*University of Berlin,
Berlin, Germany*
Why was he so nervous? Dalton
didn’t understand why a simple visit to a professor made him jittery, but at
the same time he couldn’t deny that he was.
“Screw it!”
The murmur was almost silent
and just as silently he opened the door to the lecture room. He had decided to
go and see Professor Linder after a lesson. It would leave him an escape route
although he had no idea why he would even need one. Some students turned their
heads as he walked in and sat down in an empty chair in the last row, but he
was quickly dismissed and they focused back on the man in front of the
projector screen.
“All the models we have seen
so far are based on a theorem called the random walk of share prices. In the
next three hours we will define what that is and on what principles the theorem
is based on...”
Everything in Dalton froze as
he looked at the man standing in front of the class. He had never seen him
before and yet he looked as familiar as his own image in the mirror. The
professor’s eyes swept over the students and locked on him. Dalton heard the
light tremble in the cultivated voice and their eyes locked. Something deep
inside his soul suddenly came alive and longing for this man flooded him.
Dalton wanted to run, but he was frozen with realization.
He had never met Oscar Linder,
but he knew him.
He was the man from his dream.
---
Oscar had no idea how he
managed to finish the lecture without giving away how shocked and afraid he
suddenly was. Time and time again, his eyes returned to the silent man in the
last row. Each time their eyes met and each time something inside him cried
out.
He wasn’t ready to face the
man who had the soul of his mate, the soul of the man who had killed thousands
of innocent people, the soul of the man he had killed.
He had waited so long and
still he wasn’t ready.
“Professor Linder?”
Oscar wanted to turn and walk
away, but he knew he could not run from himself. He couldn’t leave until he had
at least spoken to the other man and bracing himself silently, he looked up and
met blue eyes.
“How can I help you?”
The other man smiled and
extended his hand with an open and friendly gesture.
“I’m Dalton Russell,
a friend of mine referred me to you on a more delicate matter. It concerns your
role as a trustee of the Schindler foundation.”
Dalton Russell, Oscar smiled
at the irony that his mate who had despised anything English or American had
been reborn as an English native. He took a deep breath, although he didn’t
need it, gathered his books and his laptop and started to walk out of the room.
“Let’s go to my office then.”
Russell fell in step with him
easily. He was silent and Oscar could hear that despite the calm surface, the
younger man’s heart was racing. He locked the door behind himself and pointed
towards a chair.
“Have a seat, would you like a
coffee?”
At Dalton’s nod, Oscar put the
coffee maker on and sat down opposite Dalton.
“Why did you come to me?”
The question sounded off, but
Dalton didn’t seem to notice as he reached into his pockets and pulled out a
small wooden box. Oscar took it and opened it. He gasped and closed the box
with trembling fingers.
“Can you help me find its
owner?”
The question was calm, but
once more the racing heart made a liar out of Dalton’s composure. Oscar felt
for him, he knew that his heart would have been racing too were it still
beating.
“I can try, how did you get
this?”
A smile crossed over Dalton’s
face and Oscar’s heart clenched. He could see part’s
of Amon in the young man, but nothing of the twisted
evil mind and slowly hope began to grow in him, hope that he might have been
given a second chance.
“It’s a long story, but you
could say that I opened a door and it was there.”
Sighing, he gave the ring back
and shook his head.
“I can’t take stolen goods,
Mr. Russell, I am very sorry.”
Blue eyes flashed angrily and
Dalton growled lightly.
“Stolen goods? How do you
think the guy came into possession of the ring? He sold them, lured them in
with promises of freedom, he robbed them and sold them to Goeth.
Stolen goods? Call the NYPD if you want, Case never reported any of it stolen.
That deposit box never existed....”
The fire in Dalton’s eyes
caught him unprepared and for a moment Oscar had to force himself not to react
to it. The attraction was strong, stronger even than it had been with Amon, because unlike then it was not tainted by the
knowledge of who his mate was.
“So you stile from a thieve, what does that make you Mr. Russell?”
The eyes flashed once more,
before Dalton looked down and shook his head. His entire body seemed to slump
down and Oscar suddenly noted the exhaustion in the handsome face, saw the deep
lines around his eyes. A shiver ran through him, but he forced it down as he
continued to looked at Dalton with cold eyes.
“I don’t know what it makes
me, but...”
His voice trailed off and he
shook his head once more, then he looked up and Oscar saw cold and hard
determination in the blue eyes.
“Look, you don’t want to help,
I get it. Give me the ring back and I’ll leave. Sorry to have bothered you.”
Oscar wanted to reach out and
hold Dalton back, but he only handed over the ring and watched as Dalton walked
towards the door. He wanted to scream, but before he could do anything, Dalton
stilled, turned and looked at him.
“I don’t get it. I don’t know
you, have never seen you in my life and yet I dream of you. I see you in my
dreams and you...”
He paled and trailed off,
turning and almost running to the door, but Oscar had broken free from the
trance and the vampire reached the door before Dalton. Standing close to each
other, Oscar could feel Dalton’s body heat, see the vein that kept pulsing
heavily and all his instincts cried out to take and claim this man. Instead he
closed his eyes and as he opened them again, he finished Dalton’s sentence.
“I kill you.”
---
The words, as quietly as they
were spoken still seemed to resonate through the room and Dalton took a step
back from the other man. Who was he?
“Who are you?”
His voice trembled but as
Linder shook his head and put a hand on his shoulder he didn’t flinch back.
Instead of scaring him, the touch healed something deep inside his soul and he
followed Linder to sit down again. Linder was silent, thinking about something
when his phone rang. Dalton watched as he got up to answer and felt a shiver of
longing as he watched the slender yet strong body of the other man. The
realization that he wanted this man was like a flash through his body, but even
as the desire registered, he knew that it was more. He could deal with the
lust, but this was much more, more than wanting and he flinched.
“I have a meeting, but we have
to talk.”
Linder rubbed one hand through
his hair and Dalton smiled as the gesture left the immaculate hair mussed and a
bit messy. Was this how Linder looked in the morning? The thought came as
unbidden as the tender feeling it woke and he took a deep breath trying to
concentrate on Linder’s next words.
“I would like to invite you
for dinner, is that ok?”
More than ok and for a moment
Dalton just smiled. It was a spontaneous decision, something that just felt
right and he didn’t question it instead he leaned over and brushed his lips
against Oscar’s.
“More than ok.”
Oscar had trembled when Dalton
had touched him and even now as his hand unconsciously went to his lips the
slender fingers shivered. Dalton once more felt swamped with tenderness when
the other man shook his hand as if to clear it.
“Where are you staying?”
He gave him the name of his
hotel and they decided to meet at seven. Dalton went straight home and
collapsed on the bed. He was asleep before he could turn once and for the first
time in months no nightmares plagued his sleep.
---
“Who are you?”
It was already late when
Dalton repeated his question from the previous visit. Oscar had been surprised
that he had not pressed him for an answer immediately. Maybe it would have been
better, he mused. Dinner had been a comfortable, calming and yet intoxicating
affair. They had talked about all and nothing and as Dalton had surprised him
with his broad and deep knowledge of topics as diverse as football and
politics, Oscar had found himself falling more and more for the handsome man.
They matched, he had thought during a heated argument about the virtues of the
new government’s tax decisions.
Amon and
he hadn’t matched. Their views might have been similar on many things, but their
values had collided too much. Dalton on the other hand had different views in
certain things, but the values for which he stood up were the same that Oscar
had fought for.
They were seated in his living
room, the light was low and the entire setting was so romantic, that Oscar
wanted to forget about the question and simply pull Dalton towards him. He
wanted to make his mate forget all about his dreams and past lives. He couldn’t
though, he had made that mistake once and it had cost him dearly.
“Tell me about your dreams.”
He saw the shiver that ran
through Dalton’s slender body and watched sadly as he got up and walked to the
window. Oscar’s house was surrounded by dark trees and the vampire could see
his mate’s reflection in the glass as he began to talk.
“They stared about two years
ago, first I just thought I’d watched a movie too much, you know? But then they
became so damn real...”
The low voice wavered but
never broke as Dalton recounted some of his dreams and Oscar shivered at the
almost perfect accuracy of some of the events. Finally Dalton stopped talking
and Oscar realized that he wasn’t going to tell him about the dream in which
they fought and he died.
“Dalton.”
Oscar put a hand on the young
man’s shoulder, and his heart ached as he felt the tension in the muscles
there. Once more he just wanted to draw him into his arms, hold him close and
let him draw from his strength.
“I don’t understand it. I
never was like that, god, how can I dream of this?”
The questions were desperate
and this time Oscar couldn’t resist. He pulled softly at Dalton’s shoulders and
was surprised when the younger man followed willingly, leaning against him with a
trust that floored him.
“Who are you, Oscar?”
There was no venom in his
voice, just exhaustion and as Oscar looked down his eyes met Dalton’s blue
ones.
“Who am I?”
Eyes still locked Oscar fought
the impulse to lean down and kiss those soft looking lips. He couldn’t, but
even as he fought with his desire, Dalton reached up and drew him against his
lips. Oscar stopped him with a sigh.
“We can’t.”
Dalton smiled gently and shook
his head.
“I don’t think we can decide
this anymore.”
Oscar was stunned by the words,
too stunned to fight the pull and as their lips met, he forgot every reason why
he had refused this. Dalton’s lips were soft and yet strong. He was yielding,
but still taking and as the kiss went on, Oscar could feel himself starting to
lose control over the vampire inside him, who demanded to be bonded with the
man in his arms. A shiver went through Dalton’s body and Oscar withdrew his
lips.
“Wow.”
He couldn’t help smiling at
the comment, but as their eyes met, he shivered.
“Let’s talk.”
Guiding Dalton over to the
couch he grabbed a picture book from the table and opened it. He could feel
Dalton’s eyes on him as he handed the open book over and waited for the
reaction.
“Do you recognize anyone?”
Dalton looked at the pictures
and paled. His hand trailed over the pictures and as he looked up, his eyes
were haunted.
“They are all in my dreams…
But why are you?”
His words trailed off and
Oscar saw the moment, when Dalton recognized the last man.
“That is you.”
The words were spoken almost
quietly and slowly hope grew in Oscar’s heart. Hope that had been born when
their eyes had met during the lecture, hope that had flared up during their
kiss, hope that he had tried to kill, but that had just refused to die.
“Yes.”
Dalton looked at him and shook
his head.
“How? How
can you have lived then and still look the same now?”
Taking a deep breath, Oscar
prepared himself mentally for the reaction to his next words.
“I am not human. I’m a
vampire.”
---
Dalton stared at the man
opposite him who had just told him that he was a vampire. His first instinct
was to laugh and demand a real answer, but even as he was about to speak, his
eyes fell on the picture again.
Black and white, faded by
time, it shoed another world, but the man opposite him looked exactly the same.
Shaking his head, Dalton suddenly knew that there was no rational explanation
and if there wasn’t...
“Can you tell me?”
He didn’t even know what he
wanted to know, but as Oscar visibly relaxed he too felt tension out of him.
The other man sat down and slowly began to speak, to explain and soon Dalton’s
head spun with things and events of a world beyond his imagination. When Oscar
stopped to take a sip of water, Dalton saw how the elegant fingers trembled
slightly and he spoke without thinking.
“Show me.”
Confused, Oscar looked at him
and Dalton smiled.
“You told me that you have to
fang up, that this is not your vampire face. Please, show me.”
He felt stupid about asking,
but Oscar smiled and closed his eyes. As he opened them again, Dalton gasped.
The blue eyes had turned almost silver and he could see the fangs, but what
took his breath away was the power, the presence that suddenly surrounded the
other man.
“Oh god.”
Very eloquently, he thought
sarcastically, but as Oscar changed back to his normal face, he could see that
the other man had understood what he had not said.
“And how do I fit into this?”
A shadow ran over Oscar’s face
at the question, pain emerged from his eyes and just as quickly disappeared
again, but it was enough to make Dalton get up and move to sit next to Oscar on
the couch. His hand trembled as he cupped Oscar’s face and made him look up.
“You don’t have to tell me,
not if it hurts you.”
It was crazy, he thought, he
had only met this man a few hours ago, and still he felt more deeply for him
than he had ever felt for another person. Oscar smiled and covered Dalton’s
hand with his own.
“No, you have to know.”
He took a deep breath that he
didn’t need and began to speak.
“Every vampire has a mate,
someone whose soul mirrors his own. Some of us have found that person and
turned them, live with them bonded forever and not even death can separate
them. Others have lost their mates before they could turn them and they pray
for the day when another human will be born with the soul of their mate.”
Oscar’s eyes were locked with
his and Dalton felt shivers of understanding and longing run through him.
“I am your mate.”
Oscar swallowed and nodded,
but shook his head as Dalton wanted to say something and once more a shadown ran over his face. Something like dread began to
grow in Dalton as he waited for the vampire to continue his tale.
“I met my mate during WWII but
I failed to tell him about my nature and my love for him. When I met him again,
he had been turned by another.”
The words woke images in
Dalton and he gasped as the reality suddenly seemed to disappear.
“You are a vampire?”
Amon made it sound like a polite question and didn’t show the disbelief he
felt. Showing weakness was never a good sign around a man like Major Friedrich.
He stood his ground even as the pale blond man stalked towards him and put his
hands around his neck.
“I am and so will you be
soon.”
It sounded like a threat,
but even as he wanted to argue, his mind showed him the power he would gain
from such a transformation.
“You and I will see the
third Reich rise even further and we will head a new world order of purity.”
Friedrich’s words matched
his thoughts and looking into blue eyes he nodded.
“Do it.”
Dalton gasped as he returned
to reality and with a shiver he turned away from Oscar. Sobs were so close to
the forefront of his soul that he shook violently as he tried to calm himself.
“Dalton.”
Oscar’s hand was like a
soothing balm and slowly the shivers ebbed down. Lifting his head, Dalton’s
eyes met Oscar’s and he shivered at the depth of emotions he saw in them.
“Who was I?”
And even as he asked, he knew
and his dreams were making sense now, but instead of feeling relieved he wanted
to turn and run away. He wanted to leave and forget about everything he had
found out. He didn’t, instead he watched Oscar as he shook his head and
silently spoke the name.
“Amon
Goeth”
---
Dalton closed his eyes as he
spoke the name and Oscar wanted to scream at the injustice of it. He could see
how his mate hurt, could see how the revelation shook him to the core and his
hands trembled as he reached out to calm Dalton. This time though, the younger
man flinched away.
“Don’t, don’t touch me.”
The words were like daggers
aimed right at his heart and Oscar forced himself to meet the green eyes as his
mate looked up.
“You love me.”
The calm words made him
flinch, but he held Dalton’s eyes as he nodded.
“Yes.”
He had expected disgust or a
sneer, but the sudden pain in the green eyes took him by surprise. Once more he
reached out and once more Dalton jerked away. His eyes though still held
Oscar’s and the vampire saw raw pain flare up and dimming again.
“How can you? How can you love
me after all this? I am a monster, look what I did to these people...”
The despair was obvious in
Dalton’s voice and Oscar shivered as he realized that he had been wrong. He had
feared that Dalton would reject him, but instead Dalton hated himself. The
knowledge hurt worse than any rejection could have, once again he reached out,
but this time, he didn’t accept the flinch but pulled Dalton towards him. He
felt the shivers that wracked the slender body and gently forced the young man
to look at him.
“That is not you Dalton. Amon Goeth’s crimes are not
yours, you have his soul, but you are not him.”
The doubt in the green eyes
made his heart ache and caressing the suddenly so young looking face, he tried
again.
“In your dreams you saw
yourself committing these crimes, but tell me did you enjoy them?”
Dalton shivered again, but
shook his head.
“No, it was like watching a
movie, like I saw myself acting like this and I wanted to shake that me...”
Oscar could feel the younger
man relax slowly and still running a soothing hand over his back, he smiled
lightly.
“You are what? Thirty-two...
and in all those years you never felt like a racist, didn’t you?”
Once again Dalton shook his
head and finally he relaxed completely and looked up.
“So you’re telling me, that I
am stronger than my soul.”
Oscar smiled.
“No, I’m telling you that it
wasn’t the soul that made Amon become who did, but
his mind and his pride, his ambitions and his fears. A soul never defines a
person.”
For a long time, Dalton was
silent, then his eyes met Oscar’s and this time they were clear of doubts and
fear. Oscar’s heart would have stopped had it sill beaten as Dalton reached out
and traced his lips.
“I only met you today. I don’t
understand the strength of what I feel...”
The words were murmured almost
as if Dalton were speaking them without realizing it.
“You don’t have to understand
right now... There was so much information, so many new things, I promise to
give you all the time you need. I just ask for one thing; don’t disappear from
my life.”
Dalton smiled and once more
caressed Oscar’s face.
“I don’t think, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
Oscar smiled back, and his
heart felt lighter than it had for over fifty years, but as the thought entered
his mind, he dismissed it. It wasn’t true because not even when Amon had been alive the reality of who his mate was had
overshadowed his emotions.
“Stay please.”
The simple request made Dalton
swallow hard, but he nodded. Oscar smiled and put a finger on the soft, warm
lips.
“Nothing has to happen; I just
want to hold you for a night.”
A hand on his stopped him and
Dalton shook his head.
“I trust you.”
---
And he really did, Dalton
thought, as he lay in Oscar’s arms. He trusted to other man to keep him safe
and unharmed, to keep his own desires in check. He felt home in the strong arms
and the words from the redhead flittered through his mind.
The price of remembering
is nightmares.
But in Oscar’s arms they
stayed away.
THE END