She was holding her own hands in a pristine, ladylike manner as she held a bouquet of white flowers on one. All clothed black and formal as she stood in front of the casket prompted next to the window. The whole room was colored in bright oranges as the sun was finally starting to set and only the light from the window allowed all the small group of relatives to see. The chatter was not muttered, everyone talked happily about finally having the old lady go to hell.

    Yet there was only one figure grieving on as looking the body of her grandmother. Elizabeth just stood there, looking at her covered in white flowers. Feeling the oppressive cheapness of the gathering. No one but her cared about the woman that just left them.

    It was a party for everyone but her.

    "...Ugh."

    Her mother noticed she was stiff and approached her, prepping her hand on the girl's shoulder.

    "Dear." She started, softly. "You have to let her go."

    "Like all of you did?"

    The touch became a harsh grasp.

    "Please, don't start again. You were always such a nice girl..."

    Elizabeth's lips curled as she looked back at her mother.

    SLAP.

    "You watch your mouth, whore!"

    All relatives looked at the scene, shocked, yet not surprised that would happen. Her uncle came up fast to check on the woman. The chatter had stopped, and it was just silence in awe.

    "What, you need your own brother to come rescue you? Sure." Elizabeth looked at her mother. "Just like you need him to compensate what my father has never given to you, huh."

    "Since when did you..." The man awkwardly moved away. "Did you tell her?"

    "I did not!" Her mother looked at her. "Eli! Stop!"

    "Shut up. You incestuous whore. You tried to let your own mother to die instead of helping her. It was only complaint after complaint - but you never brought her to mental care if you were so much worried over her wellbeing."

    "Elizabeth." The woman stood still. "She was putting those ideas in your head since you were a kid."

    "What ideas." Elizabeth leaned towards the corpse of her grandmother and left the bouquet on her chest. "That being Nazi is cool? Well, maybe she was right. Because I'd rather be a Nazi than the daughter of a whore."

    "Elizabeth!!"

    "Fuck you. You and everyone else."

    "You are going to regret this path."

    "I will have plenty of time to grieve."

    Her hands reached the ones of the embalmed body of the woman a touched them. Of course, there was no warmth to be found. But the old lady shared what her own mother didn't. Yet, that is what Elizabeth was groomed to believe. That is why she didn't think twice when grabbing the submachine that was hidden besides the dead body and started to fire.

    The twilight perched on the inside of the room, setting on a painting of orange and red that covered all the room of corpses while Elizabeth looked all of it smiling.

    "Hey, gran..." She laid and sat on the edge of the table of the coffin. "You were absolutely right. Losing your virginity is not really that bad."

    She chuckled.

***

    "The one on the right."

    "Sure, sure."

    Elizabeth grabbed the book and gave it to Emil.

    "Why don't you fucking grow up, you goddamn smurf?" Elizabeth sat on the table to resume her own reading as Emil sat on the opposite side, properly on the chair. "I didn't come here to babysit midgets."

    She focused on the book and both were silent for a long while.

    The clock ticked.

    "Why did you join the divisions?" Emil spurted. "You are barely a few years younger than me, aren't you?"

    "Huh." She yawned and looked back at him. "It is that relevant?"

    "Well... you are way too nice."

    Elizabeth stomped the book against the table. Emil looked startled, and watched how she got up. He felt the knife that was her glare - and kept his mouth shut. She herself must have felt that being too much, and just smiled. Rejoicing that it had some effect on him. And then, tenderly answered.

    "You don't know shit about me."

    "No... I certainly don't." He shrugged his shoulders. "But you simply don't fit the bill of someone that is a Nazi nor comes here to commit war crimes for free."

    "Oh, I am not supremacist enough to you? Do I have to start insulting you so you get how disgusting your presence is to me?"

    "You already do." He put the book he got from her, La Celestina, away.

    "Fucking cheeky moor."

    "You are always bouncing on my moor cock, though."

    It was only after she threw a couple of books at him, shouted slurs in rage and left with a door slam that almost broke the frame of the door, leaving Emil alone, that he allowed himself to have a small laugh.

    "Such a nice girl, she is..."