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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1500957-Untitled-MilitaryRebellion-Story-prt1
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #1500957
About two characters caught up in a war
Untitled

         The mud squishes underneath my boots, but I don't notice. My feet are soaked through and through, for weeks now. I'm tromping through the trenches, rifle in hand. It feels cold and un-yielding against my skin. Two grenades sit on my belt, pins jangling, reminding me what would happen if one got pulled by accident. For two weeks I've heard that jangling, reminding me how close to death I could be. If one got pulled by accident, it would just be a matter of seconds until I was nothing but a memory.
         But I wouldn't even be a memory. I was a foster child, and had spent the first eighteen years of my life bouncing from home to home, never really fitting in, just bouncing forever. I felt like a nomad, the amount of times I switched towns, friends, even languages a couple times. I've never felt close to anyone and fought alot with everyone. I'm pretty sure I spent more time in detention at school then in class. That made it even more surprising that I never got my work done. I never did finish school. After  I dropped out, I couldn't find a job that would take me. Who wanted a seventeen year-old drop-out to work for them?
         I hear my squad leader yell something. I look back and see him pointing over to my right. It's a scene I'll never forget, not till I'm on my deathbed and don't remember anything. The sun is just about to finish setting, and there are wisps of clouds painted in pastel hues. You can't help feel calm looking at a sky like that. Unless there is a battalion of Nazi soldiers, tanks, and luftwaffe bearing down on you. The scene is no less magical, but instead of a dream, it's some contorted nightmare that mocks some of your happiest moments. Usually I wouldn't be to worried about this, as I was usually part of a much, much bigger contingent, but I had recently been promoted. I was a scout now, the very front-line, way past the original front-line.
         We were scouting ahead to make sure the town we were heading for wasn't taken already. We radioed back when we reached the town that it wasn't taken, and that we were going to meet them when they arrived. In the middle of the night we heard the warning siren wailing like a banshee, tormenting my eardrums, but waking me up in time to escape with the others, just before the Nazi's employed their famous blitzkrieg. We bolted through the streets of Minston, the cobble-stone roads dropping some of us to the ground with twisted ankles, but we didn't stop and wait for them, I can only hope they died before they reached a Nazi POW camp. I remember looking back just as the last bomb had dropped, a small explosion rocked the north-east side of the town. I saw some families struggling to escape quickly, probably about three hundred yards away, fear streaked across their face, wondering why such evil existed in the world. I saw a single Nazi just exit the village and spot them. A flash of logic streaked his face, and you could see he realized the horror of what he was about to do, to gun down a father, mother and their three children, one who looked like it had just learned to walk. Then you could see the brain-washing effects of the Nazi regime set in, and a strobe-light like flash emnated from the end of the barrel. It happened in split seconds, I saw the first bullets leave, where they hit, and the reactions from each shot. The baby was hit first, in the leg, and just as his first tear formed from the pain, a second one broke his teeth. The Mother's sanity was shattered in that one moment, but it didn't last long. All five of them were gunned down. That's when I recognized my captain's voice screaming for me to get in the forest.
         After I had searched out every job option I could, I cried. I couldn't think of anything I could do, and it was the most helpless I had ever felt. I had no one to help me, no one to talk to, no one who even cared about me. I wandered around the streets of New York hoping for anything to show itself to me. Just like anyone's most miserable day of their life, it was raining, and I didn't have a coat. I was soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone. I honestly thought I was going to die in those alleyways. I finally ran out of energy and collapsed against the wall. I felt the brick's rough testure dig againts my back through my t-shirt. I realized at that point I had spent forty dolars on that t-shirt that I would rather have used on food or drink right about then. I sat there huddled and cried and shivered for what felt like a week. “Hey, are you okay?” i heard a gruff voice ask me. I looked up and saw very large man. I would have guessed around 200-300 pounds, and none of it fat. I was in kind of a suicidal mood, at least judging by what I said next to this very large man in a dark alley in New York. “Fuck off” i mumbled to him. He didn't budge. He was wearing a large trench-coat, and from one of it's many pockets brought out a small bottle of gin. “Here” he said as he handed it to me. I mumbled out a thanks and opened it. I took a big drink, and savored the feeling of it burning as it slid down my throat. I leaned back and took a better look at this man who seemed to genuinely care about a teenager who's crumpled up in an alley crying.
         He has a grin plastered on his stubbled face. His nose looks like a cherry on the front of his face, and the smell emnating from him suggests that he had more bottles than just the gin he had given me. He was very tall, about 6'4. He was wearing a grubby brown trench coat, and old dress pants, but I wouldn't have worn them to any social events. Comically he had very Oliver Twist-esque top hot perched on his head. He clearly had been in my place at some point in his life. “I bet you could use somewhere to sleep tonight?” He asked. I said I could use one and wiped my face with my arm. It didn't help as it was raining, but it at least told him I was done crying. He offered a heavily calloused hand, blackened a little, like a man who had worked very hard in the coal mines for a long time. He smiled a toothy grin at me, a couple snaggle-tooths protruding out like they were trying to escape, all slightly yellowed by smoke, food and lack of a toothbrush. I garbbed his hand and he hoisted me up. Well not really hoisted, more like he flung me onto my feet. I have no doubt he could have flung me very high into the air. He walked out the alleyway and motioned for me to follow him. I was already having trouble walking straight, as I havn't drank much and am considered a bit of a light-weight.
         I was thick into the forest and felt the brambles poking me through my pants. Thick military-issue pants, and the brambles were still dangerously close to drawing blood. I gritted my teeth, partly from pain, partly from trying to forget watching the babies teeth shatter like a porcelain glass breaking. I held up my gun in front of me to push down any bushes and protect my face. I see my squad up ahead of me, me having been pushed to the back when I wathed that horrid sight. I kept glancing behind me, in a constant state of paranoia, convinced it was only a matter of moments until a Nazi tank rolled through the underbrush and slaughtered us like cattle. I could picture the sight in my mind, the steel engine of death roaring up behind us, fire belching from the maw of it's barrel and leveling large parts of the forest to try and hit us. These paranoid delusions continued for three days without rest or food or water. On that third day we suddenly exited the forest and saw an abandoned bunker surrounded by trenches.
         I stumbled through the streets, the very large man who I later found out was named “Buck” sometimes guiding me away from the road. I finally decided to ask him where we were going. “We call it the rabbit hole. It's a small group we have set up to stop the war. The founder of the group is very wealthy and in exchange for support will pay for food and shelter for anyone willing to join.”. I thought this over, and it sounded great to me, but there was one naggin question. “If he pays for everyone who works there, how is he able to manage support from enough people to sway the government. I don't know how wealthy it is, but I don't think anyone could pay for food and shelter for half of the united-states.”. He gave me a smile and just uttered two words that changed my life. “Why not?”.
         We walked for good while longer until I saw our destination. It looked very plain, just a wall of brick, with a single plain door plastered on the front of it, no windows to see. I felt a tingle of fear begin to manifest, but the alcohol coursing through my body quickly quelled that. I had almost finished the bottle now, and was gently swaying from side to side. It was almost turning into a little game, seeing how long I could stay standing for. Buck went to the door and rang the bell. Nothing seemed to happen for a couple seconds, then I heard a floating melody drift through the air. It seemed to play with the normal boundaries of music while still being beautiful. I had never heard anything like it before in my life. Then the door opened. Well, it didn't really open. To be honest I don't know what it did, even thought I was looking right at it. The best description would be it just dissapeared, but that would be an understatment. Not only did it disapear, but it did it in such a way that I didn't notice it was gone even thought I was looking right at it, and for a couple days couldn't even remember what the door had looked like.
         I followed Buck through the door and saw a hallway leading to a very different door. It was a giant dot. That's it. I couldn't even tell you the color, because it kept shifting through a spectrum of different colours. Buck motioned for me to open the door, and I looked at him in disbelief. “What's wrong?” He asked me like he had no idea why I couldn't open it, but his eyes had a mischieviousness in their eyes that showed his true feeling. “It's a dot. I've never opened a dot before.” He gave a small chuckle and walked up to it. He put his right hand flat on the dot and gave a light push. It slid back probably a fraction of a millimeter, and then started to roll off to the side. We walked through into a pandemonium of colors and dancing lights. I saw a railway track witht he dot rolling along to a different door where someone else I could only assume had decided to close a door. There was a room packed with people all dancing and enjoying life. There was no other word for it, they weren't partying, not even mingling at a social event, they were enjoying life itself. Then from beside me I heard Buck's booming voice roll out through the crowd “Everyone!”. Everyone stopped and looked, not single face unhappy, everyone smiling. They were all age groups, all ethnicities. It was incredible to see them all having fun together, seemingly with no problems in the world. I could only imagine how I must look, having been dragged off the street, now fully drunk, soaked to the bone, and dirt caking my hands and ingrained in my hair. “This is Dwayne! He is our newest recruit!” Everyone cheered. A momentary tingle of shock went through me, wondering how he knew my name. I then decided I was to drunk to care. Buck then turned to me “I imagine you would like a bed and we could talk things over more in the morning.” It wasn't so much a suggestion as it was a command. I nodded and realized how incredibly tired I actually was. It felt like every bone in my body had turned to lead, and thought that it would be great fun to drag my body to the ground and never have me leave. Thankfully my bones did not actually decide to do that and I made it to my room and collapsed. I would describe the room, but I was      drinking way to much at that point, and can't even remember it. All I remeber is throwing up in a toilet that said “thank you” after, but I hope that it was just my sleep-deprived, alcohol addled brain inventing delusions.
         We crept towards the abandoned bunker cautiously, hoping to god no Nazi soldiers were near. We were not in a fighting mood, not after seeing an entire village slaughtered by thier brainwashed soldiers. You would think this would give us more reason to fight, but instead it just ate up our hope like a starved mongrel. But we were soldiers, and we'd be damnded to let anyone see this blackness that had settled on our hearts.
         As we neared we noticed it wasn't really a bunker, but the Nazi's had modified it to be one. It was a house that had been built into the hillside, and the trenches seemed to have been dug many, many years after it was built. It was a plain brick wall where the door was set, with a plain door on it. There were no windows on the wall, and it made me wonder why this was, because it must be really dark in there. The commanding officer turned to us very seriously, the tense situation could not have been better described than the look he had on his face. “Alright men. We all saw what happened to that village. We all lost at least one friend there. We saw the brainwashing Nazi regime. This would make it easy for us to hate the Nazi's with a passion that no one has seen in this lifetime. But remember that they're just doing their jobs, as much as we are doing ours, and that they don't realize the atrocities they're commiting. So we are going to storm this bunker, and we are going to kill every Nazi in here quickly, and as painlessly as possible, and after the task is done, we will pray for thier souls.” It was a speech that would have quickly sold a feature film if it was put in a commercial, but this was real life, and we all had solemn faces frozen on our faces.
         The Commanding officer turned to the door, and shot the hinges off. It fell forward with a mighty crash. There was one Nazi on guard in the hallway. Time froze for a split second and we saw the fear in his eyes. I couldn't see our faces, but I guess we were giving him something to worry about. The rest happened slow motion, saw his throat muscles tense to bellow out an alarm, but a single bullet from our commander's gun hit him in the throat, and he could no more scream than a penguin could fly.  We ran down the hallway to the door at the end. It was a big red dot, but if you turned a bit, you could see the paint used to paint it made it's sheen a blue colour when the light hit it. There were no handles, so we got our demo team to set an explosive in the center. It exploded and sent shards of the door flying into the massive ball room.
         What we saw amazed us more than anything in our lives. The room itself was a gargantuan intricately decorated victorian era ballroom. It looked like something a king or queen might dance in. But that was not the focus of my attention at that time. In the center of the room was a a massive ring of  Nazi soldiers, all staring into the center of the circle. When we entered the room they had heard us, and they slowly all rotated out to see the center of the circle. In the center was a creature unlike I have ever seen. It looked like a man, but was writhing and convulsing on the floor as if in a total epileptic seizure.  I realized quickly that it wasn't a seizure, but he was writhing in pain, and on a second glance I noticed an emptied syringe lying beside him, a black lquid still clinging to the bottom.
         The most disturbing part however, was that tatooed on the creature's chest was the star of david. It was a jewish prisoner they had subjected to this sadistic new chemical. They were testing these “improvements” on prisoners of war. Even though we were told before not to be angry at the Nazi's, I don't doubt that a single one of us didn''t feel the rightoues fury welling up in his gut. We opened fire on the Nazi's and quickly slew all of them, some of them didn't even draw their guns.
         We then slowly approached the creature. It had stopped writhing and twitching, and was now curled up in the fetal position. I was the closest, so I prodded the creature's back. It's neck quickly whipped around, and it flung it's whole body at me. I got my gun up just in time to block the creature's attack. Two of the other men helped me pin it to the wall with our guns. We all turned questioning eyes to our captain, wondering what to do, even though we all knew what to do, we just didn't want to do it. The Captain's eyes had a sadness clouding them, and I was pretty sure he was tearing up a little. He slowly drew his sword, and looked at it for a couple seconds studying his reflection. He walked up to the creature, and raised the sword to the creature's neck, and in one stroke it was done, the creatures throat slit side to side, and all life drained from the body. We prayed that night, for the Nazi's, and most importantly, for their prisoners.
         I woke up the next morning with my head pounding. Apparently the human body isn't supposed to consume that much alcohol. I opened my eyes and blinked a couple times to get my bearings. On the ceiling were giant letters saying “breakfast now”. I got up and saw my door was slightly ajar, and I could see some of the other party-goers eating at a ridicuolously long dining table. I saw Buck sitting and eating, and his eyes locked with mine. I got up, and was amazed to find I was already dressed in different clothes than the ones I had passed out in. I went out and sat at the table with the others. They were all smiling about something or other, but I couldn't quite guess what. There were a couple loose ends in my head from the night before rattling around, so I asked Buck about it. The main one being, I wasn't aware of any current war in the world. “There is always a war of course. But I am talking about a different war, the war on demons, on destroyers of mankind.” I asked if this was some sort of religous group, and he laughed. “There are far wors ethings than hell boy, but I will show you after breakfast.”
         I finished up breakfast and felt the hangover quickly fading, which I was surprised at. I was amazed at how everything in the building was a brilliant vivid colour. It was incredible to see. Buck then stood up, and once again motioned for me to follow. I felt very good today, like the world had no issues I should have to worry about, and kind of drifted along after Buck. We came to a solid steel door, very unlike the other two we had seen, as it was most clearly meant to keep something locked inside. From his trenchcoat, Buck drew out a pair of massive pistols. He handed one to me. “What are these? They are much more over-sized than any guns I've seen.” He looked at me grimly and said “These aren't weapons, they are defenders of mankind. Man's Protecter's, version 30. MP30 for short.” I looked a it for a minute and tried to wrap my head around that it wasn't a gun, because it sure looked like one. “Why do we need these?”. He didn't respond but turned towards the door and began unlocking the five massive deadbolts. The entire world seemed to take on a dark, morbid hue, and the smell of death hung in the air. The door swung open and I saw inside.
         There was this small, withered creature. It had human clothes hanging of it's body in rags, and was shaking. It turned towards us and it's eyes were hollow pit's, no soul in them at all. It started to move forward but Buck drew a line in the floor between it and us with his MP. A wall of light hung between us and the creature, one it couldn't cross. The sound the MP made when used was a bit like a wooshing sound, like if your falling and hit a trampoline. I looked at the creature, and was worried, because it looked alot like a man. “What is this? It's a human being!”. Buck looked at me and laughed, a deep booming laugh. The creature seemed to shrink away from the laugh. Buck went to a small cabinet in the side of the room with a large lock on it, spun in a combination, and opened it. There was what looked like a yellow tube with a cross sticking out the top. He pulled out the cross and threw the tube into the corner with the creature. Smoke starting billowing out and envelopping the creature, and it started to convulse and scream. Panic hit me like a brick wall, when I realized we had closed the door behind us and the gas was filling the room. Buck seemed fine, but I was worried. I breathed in a lungful of gas.
         Nothing. Nothing happened. I didn't start writhing in pain, I didn't start convulsing. Neither did Buck. “What is this? What is that gas?” i asked. I kept my eyes locked on the withered wretch that before my eyes was changing, it's skin had turned a slightly blueish hue, like a corpse, it's eyes were jet black orbs, and it held itself more like a feral animal than a man. “That gas was a de-cloaking agent. It allows us to see the demons as they really are.” He pointed to my MP30 “This isn't how we usually do this, but you had to see. Paint him with MP, and banish the demon.” I lifted the machine in my arms, and pointed at the creature. It looked scared, had almost a pleading look on it's face. “It doesn't look evil” I began to say, but as my head turned to say it, the creature saw an opportunity and leapt at me and ripped the device out of my hands. Buck was fast though, and immediatly painted the creature's legs witht he light and it collapsed, unable to walk. Buck walked up to it and pulled a long rope out of his trenchcoat. He wrapped it around the creature's head, and swung the rope through a small ring in the ceiling. He hoisted the creature up by the neck, and it held limply. He grabbed the creature's arm and twisted it around to show me. I heard a cracking when he did this and I assumed it was the creature's arm. “Look. The six-pointed star. The sign of these demons. Every one has the mark on it's right arm. Everyone will kill you if it gets the chance.”
         Buck explained more, explained how they had managed to subvert our society and were slowly taking over. Taking over banks, jobs, everything. They feed upon spirit, and the spirit of the world. He explained how everything would be different if there were no demons. He said there was still one way to see the world as it should be, as it was meant to be. He called it “bottled spirit”. It was the essence of the world he said, what the creatures fed on to survive. I began to understand. I began to realize why they were here. Eventually we would make our presence know. Eventually we would cleanse the world, purge it of all impurities. We had a name for this, this miracle we were going to create, but we were not ready to unveil it quite yet.
         We all couldn't sleep that night, we all kept thinking of the poor jewish prisoner we had just been forced to execute. I saw the captain staring at his sword for many hours, saw him draw his gun and put it to his own head a couple times, and then collapse crying. He Nazi's had been doing this for years now, and it all lead back to their beginning. To when this nightmare started. It was a small group then, and they just recruited people down on thier luck of the street. Then they would administer these mind-control drugs to control them. They kept it underground until they had enought to lead on attack on Germany. They covered it up by making it look like an election took place, a democratic process. In reality they had stormed the city one night, drugged the entire city, and voted in Adolf Hitler, the financier of this savior to the homeless. They all thought it would be a better life, but I don't think the drugs that are affecting their judgment even allow them to comprehend what they're doing.
         The gas they used has been seen before to. They used it at first to convince new recruits of the demons in the world, of the purging that must commence. The mind-control drugs they gave recruits took close to a year to take full effect, so they needed to find a way to keep recruits until then. But the one immediate effect the drug had was to make the subject immune to sulphur diatonite. They had recently turned it into a needle to administer, for easier use I guess. They convinced them that only demons were affected by the gas, and that is why they were not. Then the recruits would feel noble driving jews from their home, feel like heros throwing them into the furnace. Returning demons to satan through hellfire, I believe that's what I heard. Now though, they don't need any more recruits, they have enough, and I believe this is a losing battle that we are fighting against them.
         My army and I are from great britain, and were exempt from the Nazi conquest solely to the fact we were on an island. They controlled the entire mainland of europe in a week, and were making serious headway into Asia, but I don't think they considered we could mount any sort of resistance. But  we are trying, they have to give us that.
         Watching the Nazi army itself as a moving unit is fearsome. The soldiers move and fight liek both robot's and man. They are tireless, remorseless, and incredibly accurate, like a robot, but maintain human instinct, startegic planning, and most importantly, will to survive. They are perfect killing machines, and have to be taken down quickly in order to survive any fight with them.
         After a year of me joining this anti-demon group, we had decided we had enough members to stage an attack on the city, purging it of any demons and making it a pinnacle of light and rightousness for the world. None grabbed our man's protectors, Buck said it was because demon's could hear the light coming near, and would quickly rally to anywhere we created it. Instead we all grabbed 12” knives, and each of us carried twenty to thirty minitarue needles with a black liquid inside. He said we were to rip off the shirts of everyone in the city, and if they bore the six-pointed start, to slit their throat and leave a red and white stripe on their door. If they didn't bear the six-pointed start we would inject them with the liquid, and they would see the demons just as much as we could.
         I ran through the streets, black cloak swung around me, and headed for the street I was assigned. At the ring of midnight everyone of us would start down our street at the same time, hopefully finishing before the demons could mount a resistance. I heard the clock begin to chime and opened the window of the first house. I scurried upstairs, and saw a door on my left. I poked it open with my blade and saw a crib inside. I stalked towards it and peeked over. A baby, no more than six months was nestled inside. I checked it's right arm, and saw no star, so i grabbed one of my needles. I slid it into it's plushy pink arm, and injected the needle. It's eyes opened in shock, and i quickly put my hand over it's throat so it couldn't scream. As I saw the potion take effect, the babies eyes dilated, and I knew he was just seeing the world as it should be. I left the room with the baby still awake and staring.
         I went into the room just across and saw a large, king-sized bed with two people in it. One was a  man and one was a woman. Mom and Dad i guess. I checked his arm first, and repeated the same routine as the baby. His eyes fully dilated and he lay there looking very content. I turned to his wife and checked her arm.
         The star. It was there. I wished I had had some of the gas with me so I could show this fool his wife, but I knew I wouldn't have had time anyways. I drove my knife into her heart like I was told. The man made no move to stop me, but merely sat up and watched. I turned to him and saw the mixed looks of panic, fear, sadness, and fury burned into his face. “I had to. I'm sorry.” I said meekly, knowing this wouldn't help. He nodded his head and asked “Are you an angel?”. I was confused. I assumed these negative emotions were aimed at me, but apparently not. “I don't think so. Why?”. He looked at me with the most honest, heartfelt look I'd ever seen. “I just don't understand how god would let me marry and concieve a child with a demon.” I felt sorry for him, because it wasn't his fault. Another thought flashed across his face. “What about Billy? My Child, does he have to die to?”. I told him it war for someone other than me to decide. He nodded, understanding the situation. “I may be able to take Billy. I could protect him for you.” He looked up at me with a flash of relief. He thanked me and offered me money, his house, car, anyhting I wanted. I declined and said “If I can save him I will.”
         He looked over at his wife, and his face contorted in a mask of disgust. He ran to the bathroom and I could hear him puking. I left the house, leaving him to comprehend this new world, the real world, he had been thrust into.
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