This is a Tag Blog, which hops from blog to blog depending on who is willing to carry the tale. You can catch PART ONE HERE, you can catch PART TWO HERE you can catch PART THREE HERE you can catch PART FOUR HERE, you can catch PART FIVE HERE, you can catch PART SIX HERE. If you want to read PART SEVEN then just continue reading. The instructions for taking PART SEVEN follow the story below. Thank you for reading!
The great machine sits idle in the warehouse just east of Dueschcow, where the slaves of the old republic are being forced to load the d-cobalt-anthium (d-c3a) from the Trans-Arctic mines into it. The man in the mask watches over them, and the effects of the d-c3a scare the slaves far worse than the anger of the man behind that mask. Nobody has ever seen him without the mask, or without his cane that doubles as punishment. Rumors of the sight of a hand outside of one of his gloves, leads all of the slaves to believe that there is nothing more than a skeleton underneath everything. The dark figure plays into those old superstitions, and lets the slaves talk.
The problems of the dark figure behind the mask are far beyond anything that these simple slaves rounded up from the old capital of a country once called Russia, before the New Order took control and made sure the flag of Deutschland rules the continent, as it always should have. The timeline is fractured, and until the great machine is back up, they can’t be put right. They are questioning that hunter over on the isles but he seems unaware or unwilling to share who he has been hunting. Fortunately most people assume he is crazy and stay loyal to the mark. Still it can’t be ignored that he was involved with whatever had disturbed the gravesite of where the dark figure behind the mask had hidden the truth of his ending centuries before, and that is troubling.
The timeline changed somewhere in the ending years of the twentieth century. Coincidentally it was right after the man in the mask had gone to deal with a loose end, as he had told der Führer when he was questioned by him. Centuries of illiterate and incompetent Führers have been the norm, and made it easier for the Fatherland to keep control of the lands. No one man can keep a world empire together, and so the story goes from the fall of the third Reich and the advent of the fourth. The great war had taken everyone by surprise actually considering that it had started in the middle east and before anyone knew what had happened the industrialized western world was called Deutschland.
“Kommandant von Schumann,” came a rough sounding voice somewhere in the shadows.
The dark figure slowly turned around. His very measure was that of a man that had contempt for everyone, even someone who obviously carries more importance than him, if only symbolic, “What brings you here Präsident Gahgara,” his voice almost mocking as he said it.
“I demand some sort of explanation of what all of the d cobah ant..” but he was cut off before he could butcher the name of the substance that was being shipped in any further.
“I don’t feel you need to know, your job is to bring me men to work, and not to ask question,” he said lazily, as usual a bit put off by having to even talk to a non German, much less one who represents people who are only kept alive for labor.
He grumbled a bit and then replied, “The people are talking. We bury hundreds of men by the week loading that stuff,” and again, he was silenced by a gloved hand being raised. What little power this man has, he doesn’t appear to be foolish either.
“I am quite sure that you are happy that you aren’t one of them, are you Präsident?” he said in a very soft voice which had all the threat in it that anything else he has said does.
A scream lets out from the floor below as one of the men shoveling the coal like substance into the great machine falls to his knees. One of the men dressed in a black uniform walks over dragging another tattered man to where the fallen man has slumped over and exchanged the two. Half dragging the other man around the corner one could only imagine what is to become of him. “I remember the first of the world wars, a long long time ago. The only thing your people were worth was being piled into the battlefield to absorb bullets. I was one of the people that placed Vladimir Lenin on a train and sent him in, to get rid of that leader your people called a Tsar, because in the end your people were a waste of good bullets,” his laughter was cackling and sickening to anyone who should hear it. The slaves below dared not look up, “It was too easy, because given a choice your people always vote themselves into slavery. We just decided to simplify the process.”
The man, who had the ceremonial title of Präsident, obviously knew it was time for him to remove himself from the situation, before it got worse. If there was one thing von Schumann had gotten across to him, it was that he has been doing this for a lot longer than is explainable, and he would rather stay on this side of the factory.
Part FIVE is now LIVE as it was taken from here by the talented Jeremy Crow over at THIS BLOG! Please follow this link to continue on with this tale!