White Blood | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter Sixteen

   The first thing Eleanor did was prepare dinner. She made the grandest feast she could think of, then served three plates to take to the children upstairs. As she saw them eat, she couldn't help but feel horrible for them. No being deserved such things happen to them, and Eleanor couldn't help but feel horrible for them. Her heart broke, every single moment that the children moved to eat. They asked for more food when they were finished, and she happily served them more. She learned the names of the two other children, Patryk and Piotr. Their families has been killed a year past by the very men that would be coming over to the house. 

   As gently as she could, Eleanor told them that those men were coming over. At first, they were terrified to the point where Piotr began to cry. At the sound of his sobs, Eleanor pulled him to her and began to calm him with gentle words of comfort. She told them that they weren't coming for them, that they were coming because Thomas was their friend. Ania immediately asked why was the good man friends with the bad man. Eleanor answered by telling her that it was the only way to save people, to become friends with the bad man was the only way to save them. She then told them that they should be quiet while they were in the house, to sleep comfortably. 

   Ania, Patryk, and Piotr fell asleep not even an hour later, the three of them cuddled in one bed because they were too afraid to sleep separately. Eleanor stood by the doorway of the bedroom, her fingers to her lips as the nerves raked through her. 

   "They'll be fine," Gianni said, taking a stand besides her. "Come on, El. They have arrived."

   Slowly, Eleanor closed the door and followed Gianni down the stairs. Thomas stood by the front door, a wide grin on his lips as he greeted the officials and their wives. Only three of them brought their wives, the other three came alone and with each other's company. When Thomas glanced over at her, a wide grin immediately appeared on her lips. She excused herself, saying that she needed to put the children to bed, then introduced herself as Eleanor Cummings.

   She had met those officers that arrived with their wives, having had met them when they had moved. Those that came alone, walked up to her with a set of straight lips and hard eyes. They greeted her with the name of the Führer, then they introduced themselves: Richard Hantzsch, Eduard Gustloff, and Johannes Dillinger. Thomas had told her about Johannes Dillinger, the man who held no compassion and was as cold as the Arctic. He was the one in command of the labour camp, the man who had killed thousands of people because of what they were. Johannes Dillinger was the man Eleanor most wanted to kill, but she couldn't. No matter how much death she wanted to give him, or the Führer, nothing would stop the Nazi Party.

   Just like any good German wife must do, Eleanor led them to the table with wide grins and laughter at the tip of her tongue. The men around her, except Gianni and Thomas, advocated the patriarchal society in which the German woman would recognise that her world is her husband, her family, her children, and her home. Just like every woman in that room, or any wife of a Nazi officer, Eleanor joined the National Socialist Women's League, the woman's wing of the Nazi Party. They promoted motherhood and household activities, putting out bi-weekly magazines that oppressed everything Eleanor believed. But, the thing she couldn't believe the most was the propaganda campaign that women received awards for the creation of a large family, known as the Ehrenkreuz der Deutschen Mutter, or Cross of Honour of the German Mother—a bronze award for giving birth to four children, silver for six, and gold for eight or more. 

   "How do you stay so young?" Alina, the wife of Gerold Guttmacher, asked with a grin. She pressed her hand to her cheek, almost as if she were trying to smooth away the wrinkles on her face. "What's your secret?"

   "Yes," Grete, the wife of Rudi Kapp, joined. She looked older than Alina, with dark hair and wrinkly blue eyes that seemed tired. She wore a scarf around her neck, which she would shift every now and then.