Author: Kyle Roxbury (Pseud.)

About: Ever since the war, Dr. Brunning had had a special interest in breeding his Dobermans with humans. Lacking the limitless supply of Jews the camps once offered, he had to make do as best he could locally. Fortunately, the lonely rich women were more than eager to well, well, for romps with his specially trained studs.

Excerpt:

The following morning, Adolph, weary of roaming the carefully shuttered cottage, tried to assuage his massive hunger by licking the dried blood from the cold white flesh. The residual odor of female caused him to fuck at the frayed and tattered apertures between the white if blood-and-shit-soiled moons but he howled with true pain when his ramming prick found no deep freedom in the rigored flesh. Again he roamed the house, drinking water from the sparsely supplied water closet bowl, leaping on furniture and the big broad bed, sniffing at the tightly closed windows and at the small cracks under front and rear doors. His bark came often, a deep, reverberating roar that sounded with frustration and finally, growing rage. By nightfall, he again approached the responseless shape on the rug and began to tear at it with huge teeth. The taste of static blood and flesh soon turned him into frenzied intent and he sated his hunger with shreds of buttock and breast.

He was sleeping lightly when the knock sounded on the door at dawn the following morning. He raised his head, a mighty growl came from his throat; he quieted and whimpered as a familiar voice called to him. He arose and went to the door, sniffing excitedly as the sounds of men and tools occurred. And when the door burst open, Adolph gave a quick bark of pleasure and leaped to the man standing there.

“There, Adolph, there!” the man said, and his hand sought the leash, still dragging as Myrna Foesniche had left it a few minutes before her passionately evil end had occurred. The man was tall, middle-aged, scholarly in appearance, his neatly pressed suit of dark wool in perfect Berlin style. He idly petted the big dog as his eyes surveyed the brutally mangled figure on the floor. Without entering, he spoke to the man at his elbow.

“Set fire to the house at every quarter, Hans. Make haste.”

“Ya, mein herr,” the man replied.

The homburged gentleman led Adolph down the walk to the van sitting in the morning mist. He handed the leash to the second man, who quickly loaded the excited dog into the closed segment of the truck. The two men then entered the forward compartment and the lesser of the two started the engine. Presently the other van attendant came running to the truck and climbed in, careful not to press too close to his employer.

“It is done, Hans?”

“Ya, mein herr. In a moment, it will be in flames.”

“Go, Manny. We must be well down the road before the smoke alarms some country people.”

The van motor roared and the vehicle lunged out and down the road. Just before the first bend, the elegantly dressed man leaned over the man at his right and peered back through the window. A fine feather of dark smoke rose over the low brush covering the land. He sighed and sat back, his deep brown eyes narrowed as he looked ahead at some distant vista.

Herr Josef Manfred Brunning, scientist, doctor, ex-Nazi and man of many facets, was satisfied. This was the ninth successful sale and recovery he had made of Adolph in one year. All occasions had not been this simple, but then, Myrna Foesniche had been a particularly avid buyer who had foolishly chosen to live alone in the country. It did not matter. What did matter were the thousands of marks fine Adolph earned for him, and unless the supply of money was adequate, his most important studies and experiments would hunger and fall short. This fate, he could not tolerate, and Joseph Brunning was no man to court frustrations. The end of the Third Reich had been a matter over which he had had no control. The failure of certain biological experiments was only part of scientific research. The long, long search for Trudi was simply a matter of patience, presently about to be rewarded. About himself, he was emphatically pleased and no other person in all the world mattered to Arzt Brunning.