This is my very first fanfic, I hope you like it! :)


Shoshanna is watching Frederick Zoller.

On the large screen, where the black-and-white motion picture plays, she watches as he gasps and loads his gun, pointing it at the fleeing French, and firing a few shots, upon which they all fall to the ground immediately.

Shoshanna shakes her head; she has never understood why they dilute these movies so. Does it really give them a sense of pride to see how many people a person could kill?

There is a soft knock on the door. She spins around, wide-eyes, and stares at the door. Marcel? Is there a problem?

Another knock.

She tentatively walks over to the door, unlocks it, and opens it to a crack.

Her eyes widen in shock when she sees the faint smile on the lips of Colonel Hans Landa, who stares right back at her.

Shoshanna gulps.

"What do you want?"

He smiles even broader and pushes the door open forcefully. She takes a step back quickly, as he clasps his hands on his back and looks about him.

"Come, Mademoiselle Mimieux. I would have thought you to have better manners."

"I'm sorry." Why is she apologizing?

"Would you like to know why I came here, Mademoiselle Mimieux?"

She gulps and folds her arms.

"I suppose an explanation would do no harm," she says.

He smiles as he turns towards her. Shoshanna looks away from him as she takes another step back.

Cold shivers run down her spine.

That treacherous face… her poor parents…

He takes a step forward, still smiling, and reaches out to touch her face. She flinches at his touch and pushes his arm away. She steps away from him, her eyes wide, and feels her heart beat faster and faster.

She has to get out of here, she has to…

But he carelessly kicks the door shut. She hears with dread how it locks itself. He turns back to face her, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Shoshanna feels tears of fear burn behind her eyes and wraps her arms around herself, as though to protect herself.

"What do you want from me?" Her voice trembles, and she hates herself for it, but this man makes her skin crawl, who knows what he'll do…

"What I have wanted to do since I first set my eyes on you." His voice is soft, like the hiss of a snake, and she feels her heart skip a beat at his words.

He knows, of course he knows, how could he not? He is going to kill her after all, finish the job…

"I must admit, Emmanuelle," he comes closer still, "I was rather taken with you that day at the restaurant. You have a certain… innocence over you. I like that in a woman."

He reaches out again, but she ducks and makes a mad dash for the door. She tries to pry open the lock with trembling fingers, but his fingers snake around her wrists and he spins her around, pinning her to the door with a vice-like grip.

Shoshanna's breath comes in short gasps, her chest heaving. She has never been this scared… unless you count their very first encounter.

She blinks and feels tears well up in her eyes, but she bites her lip to stop them from falling. She won't not cry in front of him, won't won't won't.

She isn't weak.

Her brother… she would never forget the look he gave her just before they got torn apart forever.

Hate burns through her veins, and she looks up at Landa.

He isn't smiling anymore.

He transfers one of her wrists, which are still pinned above her head, to his other hand, holding both of them in his large grasp. He runs his free hand down her cheek and his fingers come to rest on her chin, tipping her head up to face him.

Shoshanna give a dry sob and closes her eyes, feeling sick with fear. He is going to kill her, surely he is, she's a Jew and he-

He grips at her chin roughly, forcing him to look at her, his jaw set firmly, his eyes burning with…


"Monsieur…" She whispers it desperately, the words trailing off, but he gently puts his finger on her lips, shushing her.

What the hell does he want?

"You know what I want," he whispers, before he leans in and firmly presses his lips on hers.

Shock and horror wash over her, and her eyes widen as his close, and she squirms and wriggles but his grip tightens even more. She's sure he's going to break her bones, and tries to kick him but her long, tight skirt doesn't allow her to.

His lips now graze hers lightly, and she rashly contemplates biting his tongue off, anything, just to get him away from her…

As he pulls back, she forcefully bashes her head into his. He stumbles backwards, his hand pressed to his forehead, and looked at her in complete and utter rage.

"You might want to apologize for that little trick, Mademoiselle Mimieux."

She looks at him, mortified, sees his face set in cold rage, making him look like a monster. Almost not human anymore.

Of course, how can she see him as anything but a monster? He has pleasant manners, proved himself to be an interesting table partner, but underneath it all, oh, does she ever know what's underneath it all. He's like all the Nazis, cold, hard, incapable of feeling sympathy for anyone or anything.

Shooting them all down like they were dogs.

No, lower than dogs.


But if he was incapable of feeling anything then why did he…?

Oh, God. It makes her sick to even think about it.

Shoshanna looks around helplessly. The sounds of the guns in the movie in the background break the silence, but not the tension.

What does she have to lose?

They're all going to die, anyway. In a few minutes her movie will appear on the screen and Marcel will burn the theatre down.

And they will all die.

The good, the bad. Marcel and herself and Landa, too, but most of all the Führer.

The devil himself will burn in his own hellfire.

And she will laugh. By God, she will laugh, before the flames engulf her, because it will all have been worth it.

Ever since she ran away from the farm in France, crying, stumbling, with Landa's voice ringing in her ears, she knew she would have her revenge.

She thinks of her parents, of her brother. It will be their revenge too.

She looks up at Landa.

The anger seems to have drained from his face. He's watching her with the strangest look in his eyes.

She draws a shaky breath.

He smiles.

Before she can register what's happening, he's slammed her into a the door again, closing his hand around his throat and pressing something cold and hard into her ribcage.

A gun.

Strangled, shot, burned.

He catches her lips into a kiss again, and she fights it, disgusted, trying to push him off but he's much stronger.

When he pulls back, she spits in his face. He laughs and wipes it off, then leans in.

"Au revoir, Emmanuelle," he whispers in her ear, before he steps back, aims his gun and pulls the trigger.

Shoshanna falls back as the bullet enters her chest, and a burst of all compassing pain engulfs her, makes her numb. She falls to the floor, blood splatters everywhere, and sees him standing over her.

He smiles.

He doesn't know who I am.

And she sighs her last breath as darkness engulfs her, and feels nothing.