In Hell Itselfby dominatusimperatorChaptersVortexWelcome to HellBuilding TiesUnwelcome ReinforcementAmbushThe Face of EvilKillingMeeting Old "Friends"Cost and DeathTo DieVortexRainbow Dash was practicing. She zipped through the air, Rainbows trailing her as water vapor that gathered around her reflected the light of the sun. She linked a series of loop-de-loops, before continuing. She was hoping that she would catch the Wonderbolt’s attention with her one-of-a-kind moves. It had been her life-long goal, and she would finally achieve it. Her new trick was to create several Rainbooms until she reached the ground. This idea was farfetched to many ponies, who argued that the speeds would pulp her organs. Furthermore, they argued, the impact would render her unrecognizable. Twilight had put this across much more kindly, but the idea was the same. Rainbow Dash never took no for an answer. It was not how she built her name. Besides, telling her something was not possible was tantamount to a dare. Rainbow Dash did not turn down dares. Pulling out of another series of spins and loops, Rainbow grinned. She lived for this. She lived for the speed, the exhilaration of flight. She flew several miles into the air. She stopped. Looking down, the buildings of Ponyville were like ants, impossible small. In the distance, the indomitable Everfree looked almost peaceful, and shared none of the menace it had from the ground. Green, verdant fields stretched for miles on end. It was beautiful. She hoped that she had gone high enough for her purposes. She stopped admiring the landscape and turned back towards the ground. She pushed, and her wings continually pumped faster. The air formed a glowing cocoon around her, bright and tingling. Goggles protected rainbow’s eyes, but she still squinted as a precaution. She broke the sound barrier, sending rings of prismatic light out parallel to the ground. She continued. There were still many miles to go. She continued straining. Sounds were blotted and distant. There was only the wind in her mane and against her wings. She continued to her sped up plummet. More air cocooned around her. This was faster than she had ever gone before. Everything seemed to blur. Another multi-colored explosion appeared. She was now close enough to the ground to see individual ponies pointing up at the spectacle. Her goggle straps were unable to take the force of the wind. They snapped with shocking finality, and Rainbow found that her eyes were almost unprotected from the wind. She shut her lids tightly to avoid having her eyes torn from their sockets. That would not be a pleasant way to die. He speed continued to breathe. Despite the fact that pegasi were designed to breathe at asphyxiating speeds, Rainbow Dash found herself incapable of taking in more life-giving air. She refused to panic, and continued, trying hard not to exhale. If she breathed out, she would have to call the whole thing off and she would have to start all over again. She did not want that to happen. Rainbow feared nothing but failure. She smiled widely as a third prismatic ring blossomed behind her. But, something was wrong. Her momentum was decreasing. Why? If anything, she should be gaining speed, right? She heard screams of alarm emanating from the ponies below her. They were pointing past her, towards the third ring. Puzzled, Rainbow looked back. What looked like a portal had opened behind her. She did not know how that science stuff worked, but she assumed that if she got sucked through, the results would not be pleasant. She strained herself, trying to escape the hole. Even if it failed to kill her, it would seriously mess up her performance for the Wonderbolts. All attempts to escape were for naught. The portals suction became harder. It seemed as though it was intent on taking Rainbow Dash above everything else, since the other ponies did not seem to be feeling its effects. How did that work? She knew that portals were not supposed to be intelligent or self-aware. She screamed in agony as one of her wings snapped under the pressure exerted. She spiraled out of control. No longer able to resist the suction, Rainbow went through the portal. It was like a long, winding tunnel of blackness. Rainbow felt like she was falling. She hated that sensation, it made her feel helpless. She hit the ground hard, grunting as she did so. She opened her eyes, blinking away spots. She tried to move her right wing, and nearly cried out in agony as pain shot through it. Yes, it was definitely broken. She looked around nervously, trying to get a bearing on her surroundings. She was in a street of some sort. She was surrounded on both sides by shattered buildings. Walls made of a strange, smooth material laid smashed and pulverized against the ground, and destroyed wood beams lay rotting and forgotten. The air was still and quiet. This was not peaceful silence, though. This was the nerve racking, dreaded silence of death. The air smelled of copper. Rainbow’s eyes spun in her head, trying to find any signs of life. There were none. “It’s okay, Rainbow,” she murmured to herself nervously, “So what if you are in an abandoned city? Your friends are going to come looking-!” A loud cracking explosion cut her off. It was followed by another, and another. There was a sudden cacophony of noise. Repeated bangs hammered themselves through her head, and her brain began to pulse. There was screaming in the distance, causing Rainbow to jump back in shock. She winced as the movement sent burning pain through her wing. More explosions and more screaming. The noise abruptly cut off as quickly as it started. There were hoofsteps nearby. They were coming around the corner of the destroyed building. Rainbow Dash rushed towards the sound, fear overridden by hope of impending rescue. “Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthakyou!” She strung the words together. She did not want to stay here much longer. She rounded the corner to see a shocking sight. There were bipedal creatures, wearing what she assumed to be uniforms. The uniforms were identical and grey. They held boxy objects in their hands. The boxy items had cylinders poking from them. Two, she noticed, were carrying what looked like sticks. The sticks had metal parts on top, and terminated in metal cylinders. It was not so much the creatures that shocked her, though. It was the bodies. Dozens of bodies were strewn about. Some were old, festering cadavers. They crawled with the larvae of insects. Their eyes had been the first to go, and their empty sockets seemed to stare accusingly at her, despite the fact that Rainbow Dash had just arrived. They were in rags, some of which had already rotted away. Some wore grey, others khaki. Many were still twisted in odd positions. The skin on one had completely decomposed, revealing a leering skeleton. Its neck was quite obviously snapped, and several ribs were broken. Rainbow Dash did not dwell on whether or not the broken bones were a result of violence. With the rotting corpses were the freshly dead. Their faces were twisted in expressions of agony or surprise. Several of them had been peppered with holes. Blood leaked from the wounds, the ground of the ruined street hungrily absorbing it. Again, some wore khaki, others grey. Sickly, distantly, Rainbow realized that one had been somehow disemboweled, looping intestines wrapped around its legs. To her shock, she realized that the khaki-wearing creature was still breathing. It reached up towards the grey uniformed soldiers. One regarded him, grimacing as it did so. It pointed the cylindrical portion of his boxy tool at the other’s head. Another of the grey soldiers batted the instrument away. “” she heard the alien say in a harsh tongue. “” its comrade responded. Rainbow Dash blinked, not understanding. At this point, her curiosity had overridden her fear. She saw the first soldier nod. The other leveled his implement again. It pulled hinged bar sticking out of it. There was a thunderous explosion, and the creature dressed in khaki jerked back, its head caving in. Blood spread in a pool beneath the creature's head, sinking slowly into the muddy earth. What was it? Was it magic? Rainbow did not want to know at this point. She stumbled back. She tripped over latent rubble. She screamed in agony as she landed on her wing. The grey creatures wheeled towards the source of the noise, bringing their instruments up to point at her. Rainbow Dash picked herself up against the agony and stumbled back. “” She heard one mutter. She stared back at the creature with apprehension. For all she knew they were going to flay alive and eat her. She continued back, but gasped in horror as she felt her back pressed up against a wall. She was cornered. The creature held out a hand. It was likely meant to placate, but Rainbow’s pain-addled mind interpreted it as an action of hostility. She shrank back some more. Normally, she would have fought, but with a broken wing, that was nigh impossible. She decided to go with the next best thing. “HELP!” she screamed “Sweet merciful Celestia, somepony, anypony, HELP ME!” The creature lowered its hand, slowly. Rainbow Dash relaxed. Perhaps they weren't going to kill her, after all. “" it muttered, "” It cleared its throat. “You can talk?” It asked in heavily accented Equish. Author's Note I know how she got there was short and over the top, but everything Rainbow Dash usually is. Please feel free to comment. Your opinion is appreciated. The wall of text syndrome that most of my stories have is now remedied. Welcome to Hell“You can talk?” Asked the creature, its voice heavily accented. Rainbow Dash blinked in surprise. This barbaric killer, this creature of war, could speak! Not only that, but it understood Equish. Rainbow Dash found that to be nerve-wracking. Twilight may have found this interesting, first contact with an alien race and all that, but Rainbow did not like the thought that something from another world could speak. Rainbow finally found her tongue, and responded, trying to ignore the fact that the creatures before her had killed roughly a dozen of their own kind. “Yeah, I can talk. How can you talk?” “I don’t know what you mean, but I think that you are asking me how I learned English. I learned it at the university of Berlin.” The accent was distracting. He pronounced his “Ws” as “Vs”, his “Vs” as “Fs”, and his “THs” as “Zs”. It was disconcerting. What was English anyway? He was quite plainly speaking Equish. Rainbow Dash had never heard of English, and she was certain she could tell what her own native tongue was. Against her better judgment, she tried to correct him. “You’re speaking Equish. I don’t know what English is.” “Ja?” Came the response, “I was certain that I signed up for English courses. I assume that you have a name?” He was cut off by a loud explosion, which caused him to look around nervously. Rainbow Dash squeaked at the noise. The creature turned away to look at his comrades. He made a motion with his hands. They nodded. There was another cracking explosion. “Scheiße,” he muttered to himself. He turned back towards Rainbow, “We have to go, or we will surely be picked off by snipers." Rainbow wouldn’t budge. She did not want to go with the creature. Sure, he hadn’t attacked her yet, but perhaps this was a ruse to lure her away. She was not about to go anywhere with him until she knew that he would not turn on her. However, a small half of her mind argued that if he meant her harm, he would have killed her long before. He had several others with him, they were well armed, and she was injured. By all rights, if he wanted to eat her, she would already be dead. She stood there, the argument raging in her head. The creature’s voice snapped her out of her thinking. “Um gottes willen!” he snapped, “Do you want to get me shot? Do you want to get shot?” In the distance a multitude of battle cries sounded. “URA!” the cry was punctuated by distant explosions. The creature snarled, “We have to go, NOW!” Rainbow Dash made a split second decision. She began to walk towards the soldier. He nodded. He turned and ran. Rainbow followed him. Several more explosions resounded, and there were tiny pinging noises as objects ricocheted off of pieces of rock. The pain in her wing was almost overwhelming. There was a loud staccato burst. Rainbow saw a group of khaki-dressed soldiers taking cover behind bags filled with sand. They had mounted one of the stick-looking weapons on the sand bags, and were pounding away at her and the others. She resisted the urge to gag as she saw one of the grey-uniformed soldiers pitch back, holes punched through his chest. He spasmed, blood pouring from his lips as he tried to breathe. His eyes glazed over, and his twitching stopped. “Scheiße!” she heard her companion scream in his harsh language, “” He threw himself down behind a strange, black metallic construct that looked like a turtle. He gestured for Rainbow to do the same. She threw herself down next to him. She still did not trust him, but at least he was not trying to kill her, as far as she was concerned. The rest of the soldiers threw themselves behind anything that looked solid. Several held their weapons over their heads, firing wildly in the enemy’s general direction. She saw another soldier pitch back, his face a ruin of bone and tissue. Crimson gore spread beneath him in a puddle, and to her disgust, she saw spatters of grey matter on the wall behind him. Her partner cursed and returned fire blindly. She heard several objects ricocheting of the cover they were behind. “” She heard him order. Rainbow saw one of the soldiers take a cylindrical object out. On closer inspection, it looked like a potato masher. What was a potato masher going to do to help them? Was he going to try and beat them to death with it? She blinked as she saw him wrench the end off of the cylinder. He jumped up and threw the object at the khaki soldiers. Then, he planted himself firmly to the ground, somehow without getting hit by the strange projectiles. “” the soldier screamed. “What does that even mean?” Rainbow murmured to herself. A thunderous explosion shook the ground, and Rainbow squeaked in fear that she used to believe herself incapable of feeling. She heard screaming and several more thunderous explosions. The grey-uniformed soldiers suddenly stood and began aiming at their targets. Each thunderous report of their weapons was rewarded with screaming. She could not see what was happening, because of her comparatively diminutive size. Perhaps that was a good thing. Her curiosity got the better of her, however and she peaked out from behind her position. What she saw horrified her. The ground where the “potato masher” had exploded was completely scorched. The three man crew of the rapid-fire weapon were twisted in various disturbing positions. One had a large hole in his throat where a large, jagged piece of something had torn through. Blood splattered the walls in a fashion that seemed demented to Rainbow. One of the khaki soldiers had been completely decapitated, the stump of his neck pumping blood violently. The stench of burning flesh wafted to Rainbow’s nose. She gagged at the smell, and stared around in apprehension. She felt something tapping her shoulder. She looked back to see her companion appraising her. “Let’s go,” he said, “We should not stay here long. The Soviets will be back in full force.” The soldier led his bedraggled companions towards a building that was more or less intact. Once they were safely inside, and the doors barred, he turned to Rainbow Dash. “Now,” he said, smiling, “I believe that introductions are in order.” Rainbow Dash stared at him, her brain still behind after witnessing the earlier violence. The creature frowned briefly. Rainbow Dash did not want to think what a frown could imply. He shrugged. She sighed in relief. “I take you haven’t seen action before?” Rainbow shook her head. The creature smiled in an attempt to reassure her. She interpreted it as a predatory, sadistic smile. Surely something capable of such violence would only think of death and destruction, right? “Oh,” he spoke softly, “I see.” Rainbow looked at him closely, observing him for the first time. He had brown eyes. She could not see his hair, which was hidden under a steel helmet. He stood at roughly six feet tall. To Rainbow, who was only four feet tall, saw this as menacing height. He removed his helmet, and placed it on a table by the door. As he ran his hand through his hair, Rainbow could see that his hair was brown. This was odd. These creatures all looked almost identical. They did not seem to have cutie-marks, and they most certainly did not act like ponies, who refrained from taking lives. The fact that she was no longer in Equestria sank in. The creature spoke again, “I am Unterfeldwebel Hans Richter of the Wehrmacht.” He intoned it almost bitterly. Rainbow was sure there was a back-story to it. However, from what she had seen of this world, she was sure she did not want to know. “I’m Rainbow Dash,” she replied, trying to pick up her courage through pain and shock. “An interesting name,” he said, “Tell me, what are you, and where are you from?” “I’m a pony,” Rainbow mumbled slowly, “I’m from Equestria.” “Equestria? I have never heard of an Equestria, and I studied geography. Is it in Asia, Europe, Africa, North America, or South America?” “I have never heard of those places,” Rainbow responded, wincing as she again tried to move her broken wing, “Where the hay am I anyway?” “You’re in Stalingrad. Or, as we call it, Hell. Welcome, and pray that you do not stay long,” Hans sighed. Author's Note Please feel free to comment. Your opinion is valued. Building TiesRainbow blinked a few times, incomprehensive. Where was Stalingrad? She had heard of a Stalliongrad, but never Stalingrad. Of course, it was very likely that she wasn’t in the same world anymore, so name discrepancies were the least of her concerns. She needed to find a way back. From what she had seen here, she wanted back fast! The distant cracking explosions continued in the distance. From here, they were merely an irritant to her. It was quite unlike the cacophonous thunderstorm she had experience earlier. What the explosions signified, though, was nervewracking. Every time one of those explosions sounded, it was to kill something. It was a horrifying thought, especially with the volume of fire. There were louder, deeper explosions as well. She kept listening. Hans cleared his throat, causing her gaze to drift back towards him. “I think you know why we call it hell, ja?” Rainbow nodded slowly. There was a thunderous explosion nearby. By force of habit, Rainbow’s wings shot open. She instantly regretted it. The wing is the most vulnerable and sensitive area on the pegasi’s body. They use it to sense temperatures and wind currents, and it is the catalyst for their magic. There are several drawbacks to this. Having a broken wing can lead to severe agony for pegasi, as a result of hyper sensitive nerves. This noted, it is needless to say that Rainbow fairly screamed in agony from her involuntary movement. Hans thought that it was a scream of fear, “What? That one was two blocks away. The shrapnel can’t hit us from that distance.” Rainbow Dash simply whimpered in response. The pain was unbearable, and she was sure that moving the wing had severely aggravated the fracture. She looked back at her wing, which now flopped by her side, incapable of movement. Bent out of shape, the arm continued to send pulses of burning pain. She knew that if this continued, she could totally lose response from her wing. No more flying, and no more opportunities to enter the Wonderbolts. She did not want that to happen. Hans took note of the limp movement of her wing. Pausing to think, he decided to do something about it. He had never treated wings before, but he assumed that it wouldn’t be hard. He had fixed busted limbs multiple times during the heavy fighting that took place daily in Stalingrad. He was no medic, but he thought of himself as competent in bandaging. “Let me see your wing,” he said, gesturing to her injured limb as he put his gun down. He made sure that it was still in reach if he had need of it. She reluctantly stretched her wing out, flinching as the movement brought yet more pain. Hans felt where the wing was bent. Rainbow winced as pain once again shot through her wing arm. Hans nodded to himself. It was certainly a compound fracture. He reached into one of his bags, pulling out a field bandage. He forced the wing back into what he approximated to be the right position. He quickly bound the afflicted area. He pulled the bandage tight, once again setting Rainbow’s nerves on fire. He stood up slowly. He listened to the distant gunshots, noting whether or not they were getting closer. They were not. Sufficiently satisfied that they were in no immediate danger, he left his gun on the table, next to his helmet. He stared at the wing incredulously. They were so small, and appeared so delicate. Were they even capable of lifting her? Of course, she was a winged, multi-colored horse that could talk. If that was possible, he supposed anything was. “Sooo…” he heard her say, “Are you in charge around here?” “Do you mean of this squad?” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Nein. We had a lieutenant here not too long ago. What a foolish bastard he was! I told him not to stand. He did. A sniper blew his brains out. It was too bad, you know, he was very young. He couldn’t be older than nineteen. In the advent of his death, I had to take command.” Hans shrugged before continuing, “If you are talking about overall command, that would fall to General Friedrich Paulus.” “What are you anyways?” “My species…?” Hans was slightly thrown off by her question. Rainbow nodded. “Well, we are all humans, unless you are talking about Fritz here. I still haven’t decided what he is.” Fritz, the only other soldier in the squad with an understanding of English, gave him the finger. Hans chuckled to himself. Rainbow Dash didn’t seem to get that it was a joke. She turned to Fritz. “What are you, then?” Fritz stared daggers at Hans, “I am a human too. I apologize for our esteemed Unterfeldwebel’s ignorance. Perhaps he should go back to school.” “Fick dich!” Hans responded, grinning. “Fick dich auch, Hans,” Fritz responded with a grin of his own. He and Hans were childhood friends, so he took some liberty. The other soldiers chuckled at the crude banter. Rainbow Dash glanced between the both, ignorant to what was going on between them. She hoped that there wasn’t going to be a fight. She had seen enough for one day, and would do anything for sleep. Sleep would likely be impossible though, considering the thundering explosions that continually occurred. There was a whistling screech overhead. It pierced Rainbow’s ears, causing her to flinch. The soldiers threw themselves to the ground. Rainbow looked around, confused. Why were they so nervous? Her question was answered when a massive explosion blew in the wall. Unwelcome ReinforcementRainbow Dash painfully picked herself off the ground as the screaming whistles continued. In the distance thundering explosions continued, causing the ground to shake as in an earthquake. Rainbow checked herself for damage. Nothing new was broken, and she seemed to have gotten away with just a few bruises. She looked around to find the building utterly devastated. It was more or less whole when she came in with the soldiers, but it was now lacking a wall. Rubble was strewn randomly inside the building. She saw one soldier laying over a pile of rubble. She cantered to his side. Spinning him around with her hoof, she almost wretched at what she saw. His entire face was missing. It had been brutally stripped away by the explosion, and his eye had been obliterated. His chest was punctured with pieces of metal that had scythed overhead with the detonation. His remaining eye was glassy and still, rolled back in the embrace of death. Blood smeared the ground behind him, flowing through cracks and crevices created by the explosion. Rainbow had always boasted to being the bravest among her friends. This claim was reduced to nothing before the horror of the violence. She heard the noise of clattering stone. She spun to see Hans painfully extracting himself from a pile of rubble. He flinched as he put weight on his leg. It was not broken, but it was obviously sprained. There was a coughing noise behind one of the pieces of rubble. Hans threw his gaze to the origin of the noise. He hobbled over to find another soldier trying to move his leg from under a large piece of the building. With much straining they managed to remove the piece of rubble. Hans offered a hand to the soldier, who gratefully took it. Pulling his comrade up, Hans false groaned, “” Fritz grinned and patted him on the back, “” Rainbow Dash blinked, ignorant to their conversation. She coughed on the latent dust floating in the air, causing the two friends to turn and look at her. Hans’ eyes drifted to the area behind her, where the cadaver remained on the pile of rubble. He grimaced as he stumbled to the corpse. Going down on one knee, Hans felt alongside the body’s throat. Rainbow could only assume that he was looking for a pulse. Hans sighed, and reached to a chain around the soldier’s throat. With a quick pull of his wrist, he removed an oval piece of metal that was dangling from it. He pocketed the object. He closed the soldier’s eyes with his fingers, and stood up. “His name was Heinz,” Hans stated simply, “He was just eighteen.” Rainbow was seized with a sense of tragedy. He was only eighteen. One so young could die so violently here? It was a horrifying thought. Young age did not make one exempt from death. Rainbow was roughly eighteen, doubling the impact. What if she died? What would her friends do without her? What would death even be like? Rainbow Dash’s stunts had always been hailed as “death-defying”, but never before in her life had she been so confronted by the concept of death. She was surrounded by the dead and dying. How could she ever consider herself courageous when these humans were facing death daily? “Hans!” Fritz called, “Kommen sehen!” Rainbow followed Hans to Fritz’s side. When she saw what Fritz was staring at, she once again felt her gorge rise. Another soldier was draped behind a piece of rubble. What truly horrified Rainbow, though, was the fact that he was in half. His torso was completely separated from his legs. There was a single strand of ruby red intestine ran between both halves, showing that they had, in fact, been conjoined. His face was twisted in an expression of abject agony. His death had not been instantaneous. Trails of blood still leaked from his lips, where he had been coughing up his internal fluids. Since his heart had stopped beating, blood had ceased to flow from his bisected remains. Once again, Hans removed the tag, and closed the victim’s eyes. “Konrad…” he mumbled, eyes tired and filled with pain, “He had a wife, two children…” He stood stiffly, before turning to the other two survivors. “We have to find new shelter. The Soviets will be through here soon, and I don’t want to be caught in the open.” He spoke in Equish, or English as he called it, for Rainbow’s benefit. “Soviets?” Rainbow asked. “Bolshevik Russians,” Hans amended. Rainbow was still confused. It was obvious that the Soviets were hostile to Hans and the rest. Why this animosity between them? They were both the same species; surely, they could live together in harmony. Hans claimed one of the boxy implements from the ground. Fritz still had his firmly in hand. A whistling shriek sounded overhead. This time, Rainbow did throw herself to the ground. At least Rarity was not here, she would have hated to be in the dirt like this. The thought of her friend brought to Rainbow Dash a feeling of loneliness. Sure, she was not alone, but she had no friends here. This was a hostile world of war. How was she to survive. In the distance, the now familiar staccato burst of an automatic weapon resounded. It was answered by cracking explosions. She heard screaming in the distance. It caused her to flinch. It was a cry of agony. It sounded of unspeakable horror and pain. A massive explosion ended all screaming. There was a bright flashing in the distance. More distant cracking explosions. The cacophony was repeated endlessly as if on loop. It was a nightmare. On and on and on it continued. So many lives were ending suddenly. Rainbow and Fritz followed the limping form of Hans. His weapon was held loosely by his side. They were silent. Rainbow could not tell whether it was from mourning, or from nervousness of getting caught. Perhaps it was both. The tension was killing her, and she did not know how much more she could take. “So…” she began, “Why are you fighting the Soviets?” “We invaded them,” Hans grunted. “So, why are you killing them like that? They’re only trying to defend their homes!” Rainbow was shocked. Who in their right mind would willingly invade another nation like that? “Does it look like I have a choice?” Hans hissed in response, “I’m a soldier, I follow orders. I kill them because if I do not, they will kill me and my comrades. I hate being here.” “Then why did you join the army?” Rainbow hissed back. “I was drafted! I had no choice but to join. I have a family, you know. I would never have joined the Werhmacht of my own accord!” “Wait, they forced you to join the army?” “Ja, military service is mandatory for all those aged eighteen to twenty-five. You do not have mandatory military service where you come from?” “No! You can volunteer for the Royal Guard, but they can’t force you. Why would they? Equestria hasn’t had a war for centuries!” “You haven’t had a war for centuries? That is miraculous indeed. We have wars every decade or so.” “Every decade?” asked a horrified Rainbow Dash, “How can you have so many wars?” Hans' answer was lost in a massive explosion. Rainbow Dash heard roaring as a building collapsed violently from the detonation. Ruble spilled into the streets. She heard screaming, and realized in horror that there were people trapped underneath the rubble. Hans continued past, tensing as he heard the agonized voices crying out for help. “Aren’t we going to help them?” Rainbow Dash called out to him. Hans sighed, “There are only three of us, and we are all injured. How can we help?” Rainbow felt her gut twist as she realized that he was right. There was nothing they could do. The massive pieces of rubble required several people to lift. Rainbow couldn’t lift things effectively, since she only had hooves. Fritz and Hans were not going to be enough. There were voices ahead. Hans and Fritz instinctively threw themselves to the ground, in case the voices belonged to Russians. They listened closely. “” Hans muttered to Fritz. “” Fritz replied. Rainbow glanced between the two of them nervously, ignorant to what they were saying. Hans stood up slowly. There were black-uniformed soldiers close to their position.He waved to them with his free hand. “” Hans called towards the figures. “” Came the reply. “” Hans shouted back. “What are you doing?” whispered Rainbow Dash, glancing between the black uniformed soldiers and her "friends". “Trading identification,” Hans replied briefly before returning his attention to the other soldiers. “” The response came back. “” Hans cursed to himself. “What’s the matter?” Rainbow queried. “You are about to meet the Waffen Schutzstaffel, the most cold-hearted bastards you are ever going to see,” Hans sighed. Author's Note Please feel free to comment. Your opinion is always valued. AmbushHans trudged towards the SS squad, Fritz and Rainbow Dash in tow. It was the last thing he wanted to do. He had no love for the Waffen-SS, and their brutal, unorthodox methods. But they were German, and likely had shelter. For Hans, that was enough. He exchanged salutes with the one who identified himself as SS- Scharführer Friedhelm Richtofen. He used the combat salute, raising his hand to his brow, parallel to the ground. In turn, Richtofen gave him the Nazi salute, his arm straight out. Hans sighed, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. There was the fanaticism that the SS was famous for. Richtofen and his squad were staring at Rainbow Dash with a mixture of confusion and surprise, emotions that SS fighters didn’t often feel. Hans supposed they had never seen anything like her. At least, he didn’t think it was very likely. It wasn’t everyday that a cyan-furred, rainbow-maned pegasus suddenly appeared from another dimension. Rainbow, returned the gaze. There was some semblance of hostility in her eyes. It still surprised Hans to no small degree how expressive her face was, despite the fact that she was an Equine. Richtofen’s cold, blue eyes seemed to bore into him, “” he asked in German. Hans shrugged indifferently, “” he responded. “” Richtofen’s gaze remained unwavering. “” Hans sighed, “” More explosions and gunshots rang out in the distance, causing several of the men to look around warily. Rainbow Dash, Hans noted, flinched. He supposed that that was not a great surprise. He had flinched the first time he heard gunfire. It was something you had to “get used to”, if that was even possible. Richtofen’s eyebrow arched at Rainbow Dash’s human-like response. He thought he heard the Scharführer muttering something about vivisections under his breath. “” Hans stated. “” The gunfire was getting nearer. Richtofen smile slowly, like a wolf. Hans was always concerned when he saw SS soldiers smiling like that. It usually meant that something was going to die, get tortured, or both. Richtofen gestured to his squad machine gunner, and instructed him to take position behind a pile of rubble in the middle of the street. It would be an effective choke point. “” he instructed his men. “” Hans sighed as he took position. He motioned Rainbow Dash over, as he checked his magazine to make sure it was full. She trotted quickly to his side, aware that things were going to become very hot, very fast. The gunfire ceased, and booted feet could be heard coming down the street. Hans clutched his reinserted his magazine and cocked his MP-40. “We are going to ambush a group of Soviet soldiers,” Hans stated in English, “Keep your head down, and stay out of the way. This could be bad.” Rainbow opened her mouth to protest, only to be interrupted by the sounds of heavy boot steps trudging down the street. Hans estimated that there were roughly twenty of them. “Stay down, and don’t get shot,” he repeated. “” the machine gunner screamed in German. A cacophony of noise erupted as the MG-42 opened fire. Hans looked up over his cover, to see a screaming Russian decapitated by the stream of bullets. Blood spurted wildly from the stub of his throat as his head rolled away from his corpse. Hans blinked the image away, certain that he would be having nightmares of this for years after. He aimed his MP-40, and fired over his cover in short, three-round bursts. The SS squad fired with unrivaled efficiency. Each shot was a headshot. Blood spurted wildly from opened craniums, and Hans saw pink brain matter splatter against a wall, as one of the Soviets jerked back, his head blown open by a well placed Karabiner round. The Russians attempted to return fire, but were too heavily suppressed to do much in the way of fighting back. Several attempted to charge the machine gun position, only to be hosed down by high caliber bullets. One had his arm amputated, gore coating his uniform and the ground beneath him. He went down screaming in abject agony. The SS troops ignored him completely, leaving him to writhe in unrelenting pain. A grenade exploded, sending bodies both alive and dead through the air. The ground shook under the force of the detonation. He saw one Russian trying to crawl away, his legs mangled beyond recognition. Shrapnel studded his body, and blood leaked from his wounds. An SS soldier quickly dispatched the screaming soldier with a round to the head. The Russian’s face snapped forward as the bullet passed into his brain. He twitched for a couple of seconds, before falling still in a pool of his own blood. “” One of the SS soldiers called out in Russian, “” Hans believed that the SS soldier had told the Russians that they would not be harmed if they surrendered, or at least, something along those lines. It was a lie. The SS only took prisoners to extract information. They extracted it painfully and slowly. Once they had what they wanted, they would grant their victims mercy with a bullet to the back of the head. Never once had he seen it otherwise. Two Russians stood, their hands raised. They stared at the Germans with resentment and unbridled hatred. Hans understood why. He would hate anyone who invaded and raped his nation as well. As the SS soldiers led the Russians away, Richtofen approached Hans. “” Hans simply nodded, trudging after the Waffen-SS squad, Fritz and Rainbow Dash once again in tow. Author's Note Please feel free to comment. The Face of EvilIt did not take long for what Hans had identified as “Waffen-SS” to find shelter. The building, like many that occupied Stalingrad, was constructed from a strange, grey material. The back of the building had been partially demolished by what Rainbow assumed to be one of the “shells”. The rubble was stacked in incongruous layers, and Rainbow was horrified to see a hand sticking out from the pile. Hans and Fritz ignored the corpse, hardened by war. The Waffen-SS simply dragged the body from the pile and hurled it out to rot alone. This act was completed with indifference. The Russian prisoners had been dragged in like animals. Hans had strenuously declared that they were human, and were to be treated with dignity. Richtofen had coldly laughed it off. Grinning sadistically, he had stated that the Russians would be taken care of as according to their race. Since the SS soldiers apparently saw Russians as sub-human, the prisoners’ prospects seemed dim. Rainbow shuddered as the thought entered her mind. What kind of creature saw a member of its own race as an animal? Apparently, the concept of racial superiority was not new to the humans, despite the shock that it inspired in Rainbow. Equestria prided itself in being unbiased, and the concept of oppression by race was a concept that Rainbow was not at all comfortable with. The SS troops had, for the most part, ignored her. They went about various jobs, setting up defensive positions and standing guard. Rainbow couldn’t help but admire their disciplined zeal, oppressively racist though they were. They were organized to such a degree, that they would put Twilight herself to shame. That was terrifying. Twilight, by Rainbow’s reckoning, was literally the god of organization. Then, there was the impassive demeanor. Rainbow had never seen individuals so seemingly emotionless in her life. They surpassed even the Royal Guard. At least the Royal Guard were capable of displaying emotion. The SS soldiers seemed incapable of basic emotions. In all her time around them, she had seen nary a show of life. Perhaps they relaxed in their private time. All creatures had friends, right? Richtofen, the squad leader, unnerved her far more than the other soldiers. Although he did not speak often, he understood Equish, “English” in this world. However, what he had said betrayed limitless sadism and an unnatural willingness to kill. He was a psychopath beyond any ever known to Equestria. Saying that he enjoyed torture would not be entirely accurate. He loved torturing and inflicting pain upon others. This shocked Rainbow a fair deal. In Equestria, there had not been a serial killer or confirmed psychopath for roughly five-hundred years, according to Twilight. It was far different here. SS members, according to Hans, were recruited for being amoral killers. They enjoyed violence, and made no move to hide it, and Richtofen was the prime example. Hans had warned her to stay away from him, claiming that Richtofen was dead set on cutting her up. Rainbow had tried to act brave, claiming that she could “totally take him on”. This was untrue, and Rainbow knew it. The creatures here were far more experienced in violence. She resolved to stick with Hans whenever Richtofen was around. Verily, she did not wish to be disemboweled for another’s pleasure. Screams resonated from deeper within the building. They had been continuing for several hours, and betrayed pure and unbridled agony. Rainbow had assumed her broken wing was the most painful thing one could experience. Evidently, it was not. The voices betrayed inexpressible horror at their plight. Rainbow shuddered at the noises. How could a being inflict such pain upon another? The answer was obvious: insanity. The screams abated for some time, and she could hear yelling in “German,” as Hans had called it. The response was a pained moaning in what she assumed was “Russian.” The voices stopped and the screaming continued. Next to her, Hans flinched with each outburst of pain. “How could they do something like this?” she asked, more out of disbelief than ignorance. “They are the SS. They enjoy doing this,” Hans had sighed in response. The answer did little to comfort Rainbow. She noticed the still form of Fritz sleeping peacefully through the screams. “How can he sleep through this?” Rainbow asked incredulously. “Believe me, Rainbow Dash, he has slept through much worse,” Hans replied with mild amusement, flinching at a particularly loud scream. "You're taking this well," Rainbow responded with some disgust, "How can you stand it?" "Saying that I can stand it would be a lie. I can't. But, intervening with the Waffen-SS's affairs is never a good idea. You eventually get somewhat used to it." "Used to it? How do you get used to...to this?" "By having it around you for two years. It slowly takes the humanity out of you," Hans sighed. "What do you mean, takes the humanity out of you?" Hans's inevitable elaboration was cut off by a loud explosion, a gunshot. Hans bolted upright, his gun aimed warily. He realized that the shot had resonated from within the de facto interrogation at around the same time Rainbow did. There was a loud thump, and the sound of flowing liquid. The upstairs door opened, and a limp object was thrown down the stairs. Rainbow realized with horror that it was a body, although it was almost unrecognizable as such. His mouth was gritted in a horrified rictus, and pieces of bone protruded from his head. His eye was utterly annihilated by a heavy blow, further destroyed by the bullet which had passed through his cranium, sending bone shrapnel into his brain. What horrified Rainbow the most, though, was the marked lack of skin. Massive strips had been cruelly cut away, and the injuries had been cauterized. It was no wonder that he had been screaming. Rainbow suddenly felt the urge to wretch, and comforted herself with a singular thought: at least Fluttershy isn’t here. Author's Note Evil Nazis are evil. Please feel free to comment. Your opinion shall always be valued. KillingSilence reigned supreme at the scene of the flayed corpse. Blood flowed on the hard floor, slowly inching its way towards the entrance. It glistened a crimson in the half light. The blood looked almost beautiful, in a perverse, twisted sense. What was not beautiful was where it came from. The sound of rapidly spoken Russian broke silences reign. The voice was pleading, begging. This was an obvious sign that the SS personnel were still carrying on with their “interrogation.” Hans dragged a bleary eyed Fritz out the door. Rainbow Dash rushed after them, confused. Why were they leaving? If she were Hans, she would confront those jerks and tell them exactly what she thought of them. Why wasn’t Hans doing anything? Maybe she would tell whoever was in charge of them, get them punished. Surely they weren’t all like that! Hans only smiled bitterly at Rainbow Dash’s proclamation. “Tell their commanding officer? He would reward them for a job well done. Do you even know who he is? Right. Of course not. Their commander is SS-Oberfuhrer Dieter Heinrich, the Butcher of Stalingrad. Believe me, he ordered them to do this,” Hans sighed. “Dieter Heinrich? But why would he order them to do something like this?” “I met Oberfuhrer Heinrich once. I am convinced that he isn’t human. At least with the other SS you can see some sort of joy or life while they carry out their work, and can actually be decent during down time. But Heinrich is different. He has no emotion. His eyes look dead…and his smiles, well, let me say that he smiles like a wolf.” “Wouldn’t his commander be against that?” “Against Heinrich? Gott, no! In their eyes, he is an exemplary Aryan and officer, an example for Germans everywhere. They like his efficiency, his willingness. He isn’t held back by morals. He totally embodies the values of the Third Reich, to the point where they think that he was born a perfect Nazi.” Rainbow Dash shuddered at that. Hans had explained the Nazi ideology to her, from “Beyond Good and Evil,” to “survival of the fittest,” and the concept of being better than others. The Nazis believed that they were the fittest, and that everyone else was worthy only of death or slavery. Their belief was centered completely around militarism and conquest. It was painfully apparent to Rainbow that this world was nothing like Equestria. In Equestria, the worst anypony had ever gotten was Discord, and stuff like that only happened every few millennia according to Twilight. Here, war and death was the status quo. Peace was simply a front for preparing for war. This world, according to Hans, was in a constant state of unrest and conflict. That the humans had survived for so long was a testament to their spirit. It was hard to believe the sheer ability of the Humans. They could level entire cities and kill thousands with ease. They had become so efficient in killing that they could blow off someone’s head from several meters away. It was terrifying. It was barbaric, to use Rarity’s terminology, the only thing that fit. Rainbow Dash had though that Discord was bad, but he didn’t hold a candle up to humans. All he had done was basically pranked the ponies. Fritz had pulled out a map, and was speaking to Hans in German. He was gesturing to various points marked on it. They were some distance from the shelter that the SS had commandeered, and the sky was already dark. Fritz was using a lighter to illuminate the paper. Hans was gesturing to other locations, presumably German posts. “” Fritz opened his mouth to respond to Hans, but was cut off by a loud bang. He stood there for a moment, eyes wide in shock. Blood sprayed wildly. There was a large hole in the side of his head, and another in his throat on the other side. He sank to his knees gasping as Hans spun around in confusion. Rainbow Dash threw herself to the ground. Another loud bang, and Hans was spun backwards, a hole opening in his arm. Hans grunted, gritting his teeth against the obvious pain. His grey uniform was stained with blood, both Fritz’s and his own. A door was thrown open and khaki uniformed soldier strode out. Rainbow Dash couldn’t see clearly, but she though she saw a red star on his lapel. This had to be a Russian. Hans whipped out his pistol to defend himself. The Russian crushed his hand under a heavy boot, forcing another pained grunt out of Hans. The Russian then withdrew his own pistol, and with eyes full of malice and hatred, took aim at Hans head. A million thoughts went through Rainbow’s mind. What could she do? What should she do? Hans was her friend, at least, she thought so. However, she couldn’t just attack the Russian could she? The Russian was going to kill the only person she knew around here. She couldn’t allow that to happen. She wouldn't allow that to happen. She made a rash, split second decision like all the others she had operated upon in her life. She threw herself at the Russian. Rainbow Dash could go at massive velocities on short notice, and the sheer force and momentum of the blow sent the Russian headfirst into a wall. There was a loud crack, and the Russian’s head lolled limply. Hans had regained his footing, grimacing as he clutched the wound in his arm. It was a flesh wound, he believed. At this point, what he needed to be worried about was the possibility of Gangrene from infection. He quickly bound the wound with a field dressing. He finally turned towards Rainbow Dash, who was trembling with shock. She was staring at the Russian, whose neck was snapped. Hans had seen the look before, and had likely worn it himself at some point. The look never lasted long. “I…I…I…killed someone! How could I do that? How? Oh Sweet Celestia, I killed someone.” Hans had said something similar the first time he had killed. He could only say what he had been told by his superior. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned to Fritz's body. He closed Fritz's eyes almost reverently, mourning the loss of yet another friend. He had lost to many to count. With his eyes closed, Fritz looked like he was sleeping, almost peaceful. The bullet wound was the only thing that detracted from the illusion. "" Hans choked, his voice betraying the weight his soul felt. Tears refused to come. Hans had already cried too many tears over dead comrades. Meeting Meeting War left some pretty nasty imprints, Rainbow Dash realized. Not once had she seen Hans sleep in the entirety of the time she had known him. He did everything that was possible to stay awake, injuring himself just to make sure that he could stay awake. At first, Rainbow could not understand this behavior. Surely, sleep would help him, right? Rainbow quickly learned his reasons for staying awake. She went to sleep in one of their rare moments of “safety,” if that was what they could be called. She was tortured by her dreams. Dreams of blood, of death, of the man she killed. He bayed for her blood, he cried for vengeance for the injustice so plainly wrought against him. Bones smashed, organs streaming from opened bellies, all of it replayed in her mind. There was such nightmarish clarity to the dreams, that Rainbow Dash could barely differentiate reality from the dreams. She was constantly waking up screaming. She joined Hans in refusal to sleep. Truthfully, when Rainbow Dash was awake, she could suppress it. She could hang on to a veneer of calm, she could ignore the killing, the death. She could detach herself. Rest only caused her to lower the barriers that kept the howling spirits out of her mind. Thus, they haunted her, tortured her, just as they tortured Hans. How much worse was it for him? After all, it was his own species. Several shells screamed overhead, and the never-ending gunfire intensified briefly. Hans looked up from tending to his injuries as a particularly large explosion shook the earth. The detonation was followed up with the distinctive staccato burst of a heavy machine gun. Rapid rifle fire told him that someone was attempting to reclaim a building. Hans stared down the street, attempting to gain a line of sight on the battle occurring. Rainbow Dash did likewise. Explosions roiled out of the windows of a tenement block down the street. Khaki uniformed soldiers were flooding through the doors. Several were hit by German gunfire, blood spurting as they toppled over. A soldier rushed to the door carrying a nozzle attached to a canister mounted on his back. Rainbow Dash wondered what it was. The question was quickly answered when a gout of flame sprayed out of the nozzle. Loud screams emanated from inside the building. A grey figure toppled through the door, smoke rising from his burning clothes. He rolled madly on the ground, screeching in obvious agony. The screams stopped as a bullet punctured his head in a spurt of crimson. The Soviet soldiers poured into the building. After a few more shots, no more was heard from inside. “We have to go,” Hans sighed, “It is no longer safe here. They will be a round shortly.” “Where?” Asked Rainbow Dash, too tired to add in her usual energetic flair. “There is a forward command post a few kilometers from here. I am unsure if it is still standing, but it is our best bet at this point.” Rainbow Dash was forced to agree. The last thing she wanted was to face that fire spewing monstrosity of a weapon. That would only cause problems. Rainbow Dash was used to facing near death experiences at home, but next to her current situation, they seemed trivial. Getting her wing pinned at Ghastly was incomparable to being unable to fly due to fear of death. Rainbow Dash hated that. Flying was the most important thing in the world to her, and it was denied to her. How was she ever supposed to get home? At this point, she was feeling homesick. She missed her friends, she missed her job, she missed Ponyville, and she missed the innocent times that she had previously resented. What she wanted was the monotony of sky clearing. It was ironic. She spent most of her life hoping for some action, and as soon as she saw it in all of its violence, she wished for the boredom of her normal life. Hans and Rainbow Dash began to trek in the direction of the German forward position. At this point, they could clear only a small distance during the day, as snipers peaked out of every building. At nighttime, they could move with greater ease, even though caution still ruled at the top of their minds. Hans estimated that it would take the rest of the day and the entirety of the night to reach the forward position. Hans’ estimates proved prophetic. As the sky began to lighten, the duo caught sight of crimson banners fluttering in the breeze, attached to the front of a rather large tenement. The Balkenkreuz seemed to expand and shrink with the flag’s movement. For Hans, there was no sight more welcome. For Rainbow Dash, the sight only brought uncertainty. How would the position’s garrison receive her? Black uniformed soldiers moved about in front of the building, and silhouettes appeared in windows. Upon coming closer, Rainbow recognized the feared dual lightning bolt sigil. The Waffen SS had apparently made this building their home. Hans stopped short, staring at one SS soldier in particular. The soldier stared back, his blue eyes soulless and without emotion. “Dieter? Dieter Heinrich?” Hans asked incredulously. “Hans Richter. What a surprise to see you here,” came the eerily cold response. Author's Note Happy New Year, everyone! Thank you for your support. Old "Friends"Hans almost sighed. It was just his luck. Of all the command posts that he had to arrive in, it was the one the Dieter Heinrich was at. This, and many other things gave Hans the distinct impression that God hated him. It could almost be considered ironic, he supposed. He was just telling Rainbow Dash about the butcher, and here he was. Hans was briefly reminded of the English saying, “Speak of the Devil, and the Devil will come.” It seemed more accurate than ever before. Dieter didn’t look much different. He had the same glacial eyes, same blond hair, same marked lack of emotion. Hans knew Dieter better than he was willing to admit. Dieter at this point was probably more interested in the pony than anything else, both from surprise, and a marked need to understand how the pony ticked. Hans resisted gritting his teeth at the thought of what Dieter would do. “” Hans grated through his teeth. Dieter shrugged, uncaring, “” This time Hans did sigh, “” Dieter smiled, though his eyes remained piercing and dead, “” Hans rolled his eyes, used to Dieter’s theatrics and subtle mockery. Rainbow Dash looked quizzically between the two of them, her fears temporarily abating at the German conversation between them. She did not know why, but she sensed an air of familiarity to them. It was not familiarity between friends. It was more between rivals, or old enemies. Hans obviously had no love of Dieter Heinrich, and Dieter Heinrich…it was hard to understand what he was thinking. Rainbow still had a hard time reading human expressions, but it looked rather like Heinrich had no emotion whatsoever in his face. Rainbow certainly couldn’t see any in his eyes. Hans changed the subject, “” There was finally a brief flicker of emotion in Dieter’s eyes. Something approaching sadness. It was gone in a heartbeat, and Hans almost couldn't believe that it had been there in the first place. “” Dieter responded slowly. Hans could have almost sworn he heard Dieter sigh. If that were the case, this would be only the second time he had ever seen the SS officer display emotion. These things were rare and far between. This almost impossible display of emotion convinced Hans more than all else of the truth behind Dieter’s words. “” Hans whispered, “” He exclaimed, more out of shock than any genuine disbelief. “” the cold reply. Hans unleashed a flurry of profanities in German, followed by a series in French, and one in English. Rainbow Dash was shocked at the sudden display of anger that Hans was showing. She looked around uncomfortably as she noticed more of the Waffen-SS staring at her, with obvious surprise. Some wore expressions of horror and shock, muttering among themselves in their harsh language. She couldn’t blame them. She didn’t belong here. “” “” Dieter explained in a tone that could be used to discuss the weather. Hans bristled at the callous response, "” Hans suddenly found Dieter’s hand seizing his collar. When he looked up, he saw something that he had never expected to see. Pure emotion. Dieter’s face was a mask of rage, sorrow and pain, in equal amounts. It seemed that he was visibly restraining himself. “” Dieter hissed, his voice betraying more emotion than Hans thought possible, ”” The last part had so much venom pushed into it, that Hans could barely believe that Dieter had been the one who spoke. This belied the normally emotionless manner of Erich's brother. Dieter drew a knife, holding it up to Hans’s face, “” Hans could only stammer, immediately recognizing the combat knife, which still had Erich's initials crudely carved into it. Dieter released Hans’s collar, his face already melting back into an expression of total apathy. By now, an inquisitive group of Waffen-SS personnel were surrounding the terrified Rainbow Dash, some throwing quick glances at the two officers. Hans watched as they prodded her and observed her reactions. When she had talked and in no uncertain terms told them to stop, this was received with a great deal of shock and a lot more excitement, as well as a strange lack of death threats. This was the Waffen-SS at its most human, Hans supposed. “” Dieter ordered his men coldly, “” “What is their problem?” Rainbow dash inquired. “Not now,” Hans almost snapped. Rainbow was taken aback by the sudden mood shift, but remained silent, watching. Erich had been Hans’s best, closest friend. They, along with Fritz, had known each other since they were toddlers, and were inseparable as children. Hans’s family had been equally close with theirs. Even then, Dieter had been a cold bastard, content to be left alone to his own devices. He rarely talked, and he always watched. When Dieter’s father returned from the war, the Great Depression was only just beginning. Dieter had to work with his father to help support the Heinrich family, and Erich sought out his own job. Then it happened. The tragedy that changed everything. During a standup, the elder Heinrich was stabbed to death, Dieter badly injured. Hans remembered that day from Erich’s reaction. His face had been a mask of tears. He couldn’t believe that his beloved vatti was dead. He had been so afraid for his brother’s safety. Even then, Erich had been the more human of the two. Dieter did display some emotion, but whatever he was thinking was permanently buried behind that mask of his. Then, the two murderers died. Erich had commented the night before that his knife (which had been a gift from his father after the Great War) was missing. Hans had spent most of the night staring out the window. During the night, he saw Dieter sneak out of the house. Two hours later, he returned drenched in blood. Erich found his knife by his bed the next morning. The newspapers declared the murders. Hans never told anyone. Erich had expressed relief that he and his recently healed brother wouldn’t have to go to court. Dieter had simply remained silent behind a cold, emotionless veneer. Then, the Fuhrer took power. Dieter was one of the first to enlist for the Waffen-SS, and one of the first to enter. Erich had told Hans, with great pride, that his brother had been called an “inspirational, perfect Aryan.” Dieter still didn’t show any emotion. Erich never made it into the SS. Instead, he joined the Heer infantry. Hans went his own way, entering college and attaining degrees in history, English, and French. The war broke out four years later. Soon, Germany was standing over the remains of Europe, reigning supreme. Hans had noted that Dieter was several medals heavier, as was Erich. Hans had been drafted around the time of Operation Barbarossa. Much to his surprise, he was in the same theatre with Erich and Dieter, and the same squad as Fritz. A rare occurrence to say the least. There had been some good times getting wasted in the Ukraine with his old friends. That was the last time Hans had seen Erich. Now, he was dead. It really hurt. Hans hadn’t even the time to say a proper goodbye. It wasn't fair! Of the original three, Hans was the last one standing. He never wanted any of this! His two closest friends were gone, and the world didn't even have the decency of taking him with them! God damn the Russians for pulling the triggers that ended the lives of his brothers, and God damn the fuhrer for starting the war! Hans was veritably trembling with a mixture of rage and survivors guilt in equal measure. When he noticed Rainbow Dash staring at him, he forced himself to calm down, clenching his teeth until an audible gnashing noise came out. He looked back at Dieter, the very representation of Nietzsche’s philosophy of “Beyond Good and Evil”. Dieter did not even register his gaze. He was coldly dragging a captured Soviet artillery man towards a shack helpfully marked “Vernehmungszimmer”. He was still clenching his brother’s knife. Rainbow Dash, looking in the same direction Hans was, shuddered. Author's Note Well, a new update. I hope it is to everyone's satisfaction. Also, because I (and google translate) suck a German, from now on, things spoken in German will be written in English like this: "<>" Cost and DeathAuthor's Note I listened to this while writing this chapter: It seemed fitting. Cost and Death War redefines cost. War ensures that there is a price for everything. Every inch of land is bought with blood. Every life saved is exchanged for another. War is merely expenditure and purchase, the buying and selling of souls. Expend a thousand men, and you may buy yourself a country, or you may buy a city. Sometimes you may only purchase an inch of land. The price is never the same, but remains horrifying. War renders the meaning of life to nothingness. What is life worth when everything is bought with such? Blood itself is rendered a mere currency. The death of one is tragic. The death of a million is a statistic, meaningful in its meaninglessness. Rainbow Dash was only beginning to understand the cost of a war. She had always dreamed of being a hero, of there being conflict. She never considered the consequence. She had always thought that war would be like in the books: there would be fighting, a couple of ponies would be hurt, but the hero would triumph. Evil would be defeated. Everything would be all right in the end. Only now did she realize the naivety of her beliefs. Only now did she begin to understand just what the cost of conflict was. Yet it was not merely costly in terms of blood, was it? No, sanity was another currency continually used to purchase things that have meaning only to those with power. Hans didn’t move. He didn’t blink. He barely breathed. He merely sat, back against the wall of the bombed out building, staring. It was like the stare of one recently departed: empty, vacant, hopeless, dead. There was nothing beyond it, but there was nothing behind it. Rainbow waved her hoof in front of Hans’s face, trying to make him blink. Nothing. He continued to stare vacantly. Rainbow shuddered. He was beginning to creep her out. Ever since that SS officer, Dieter Heinrich had spoken to him, Hans had quickly grown slack faced and impassive. It had been a few hours already. In the distance, there was an intensifying of the sounds of battle. Explosions shook the ground as the staccato burst of machine gunfire echoed through the streets. One shell landed particularly near, sending a massive plume of smoke into the air a block away. Hans didn’t stir. Tears beaded the sides of his eyes. “URA!” Came a scream in the distance, the easily recognizable Soviet battle cry. A brief hint of madness entered Hans’s eyes, which hardened with both viciousness and a certain predatorial beastliness. His eyes spun in his sockets to regard Rainbow Dash for the first time in six hours. His eyes remained vacant, and yet were not. Rainbow took a step back, swallowing slightly at the madness that roiled within Hans’s eyes. He laughed, and Rainbow suddenly became aware of how sharp his canines were. “” he chuckled in his harsh language, “ Rainbow took another step back. Hans’s voice slowly rose, “” “Hans?” Rainbow pleaded with her only ally in all of this madness. “” Hans was almost shouting at this point. “Hans, please, stop,” Rainbow’s voice was fearful. Hans suddenly sprang up, fist driving into a wall. His knuckles bled. “” Now Hans was shouting, tears streaming from his still maddened eyes. Rainbow struck him, her hoof connecting with his stomach. Hans doubled over slightly. Rainbow resisted the urge to run as he straightened up, wheezing slightly. He regarded her for a moment, and she tensed slightly, awaiting a harsh rebuke for her physical contact with him. He reached out and she closed her eyes, afraid. The dreaded response never came. Rather, she felt the human’s hands slowly running through her mane. She looked up, finding that the madness had abandoned his eyes. She almost sighed with relief. He drew his hand back and sat back down, grimacing slightly in pain. He closed his eyes, slowly. “Hans, what’s wrong?” Rainbow asked. Hans eyes opened again, and his face twisted into a bitter smile that was only a hint off from the expression of total insanity that had wracked his features earlier. “All of my friends are dead,” He said simply, quietly. Rainbow’s heart clenched. “But I’m your friend,” she responded. Hans’s head jerked up like he had been slapped. Then relaxed and smiled sadly, looking down at his hand, which oozed precious, crimson life. “I suppose you are, Rainbow Dash. I suppose you are.” *** The next shell was closer to the SS emplacement. The sentries stared down the road they were aiming their weapons at, even as trails of smoke engulfed them, threatened to smother them. Their eyes widened in horror at the scene before them. A veritable wave of men poured towards the German position. Fire was upon their eyes, death was upon their lips. The Germans opened fire. A hundred Soviets fell, and yet the wave continued. Wicked blades affixed to their guns glinted in the half light. “URA! Za Rodinu!” screamed the attacking Soviets, even as they died. Some took rounds through the throat. Others were torn in half by a hail of seven-point-nine-two millimeter rounds. Yet more screamed in agony, slowly dying out as their flesh was torn and mutilated by the merciless and fearful death dealing capabilities of mankind. Some died terrified. Others died defiant. More still died without knowledge that they had. Regardless, they all died, ending their lives in noise, fire and desolation. Fathers, brothers, children, it made no difference. It was the end for them. They ceased to be. Death, mounted upon his black steed reaped another consignment of souls to pay the debt mankind owed to war. To DieThe soldier was charging, following his comrades. Rifle in hand, he advanced on the enemy, even as they took cover behind a demolished vehicle. As the skirmish began, time seemed to slow. One shot. An enemy soldier slumped back, head caved in from the bullet his comrade had fired. A second shot. His comrade fell to another of the enemy. A grenade exploded, disemboweling one of his group and killing several others with shrapnel. More shots, more deaths. Blood spurted into the air in pseudo-artistic form, while gore stained the ground and crimson vitae flowed from wounds. The soldier raised his rifle to his shoulder, yelling as he fired. His shot ricocheted. Another shot sounded. There was a sensation like a punch in his abdomen. He was hit, he realized as he went down. He fell onto his side, the shock taking away from the pain for some time. He merely grunted from the impact. But the pain soon bled back. He briefly noticed that all his comrades were dead, bleeding from gaping wounds. Now, the soldier was dying. Crimson blood stained his uniform as blood poured from the wound in his stomach. He grimaced in pain, with the knowledge that his life would soon end playing upon his mind. His vision was blurred, his hearing muffled. He was aware of fellow humans standing over him. But who, friend or foe. He was going to die. Did it matter? He struggled to sit up from his position on his side. To no avail. The bullet had torn through the soldier’s stomach, rupturing it. Even now, hydrochloric acid was spewing through his insides, burning, eating away at the vulnerable flesh that made up the remarkable biological structure that was the human body. The agony was almost unbearable, like being seared with the hottest fire. The hot piece of lead still lodged in his body did not help. Blood oozed from his mouth. The soldier wanted to cry, to weep at the thought of his own demise. He was only eighteen, barely a man, and now his life was ending. It was unjust, nightmarish, to know that he would not see his family again. Tears wouldn’t come. He had shed too many already, endured too much in the months of war he had witnessed. He had already lost a great many friends in the hell that was Stalingrad, and he supposed that after he passed on, many more of his friends would die. He coughed. Was there life beyond the veil? Was there hope for him? Would he perhaps see his friends, and eventually, his family in whatever place lay behind death? Or would there be simple oblivion, nothingness, ceasing to exist? Once afraid, the soldier couldn’t find the energy to be terrified of his own death. As his heart slowed from blood loss, the soldier began to feel cold, drained. A mother’s love never to be felt again, a father’s steadfastness never to derive strength from, a sister’s smile, never to be delighted in again, a hope for the future cruelly extinguished in the harsh storm that was war. Death took everything from the soldier. Everything about him would soon be extinguished. Breathing was becoming progressively more difficult, as stomach acids began to chew through his lungs. The pain was becoming nearly unbearable. While the thought of his own demise did not force tears to his eyes, the pain did. Grey figures stood before him. He looked up, grimacing in agony. He reached up with his hand, grasping at the figures. Whether or not it was in anger, defiance towards the injustice of those who had pulled the trigger that ended him, or if it was pleading with them to save his life, to treat his wounds, not even the soldier could tell. His mind was blurred. Everything was fuzzy as the blood left him and his body gradually became starved of oxygen. One enemy, eyes filled with emptiness of one fulfilling a job not desired, leveled his submachine gun at the soldier’s head. His enemy’s comrade batted the weapon away. The soldier stared on, barely comprehending. The second addressed the first in his harsh language, the language of the fascists. “” The second exclaimed. The soldier winced. “” The first replied harshly. The second hesitated, then nodded, brown eyes radiating sadness and regret. The soldier seemed distant in his own mind, watching from a afar, even as the gun barrel once again turned towards him. A single tear trickled down his face. He stared into the eyes of the one who would be his final end. His enemy sighed imperceptibly and twitched his finger. There was a single flash, and the soldier was no more. Author's Note This idea struck me recently, and I didn't want to make it into a oneshot. Consequently, it is a chapter in this story. I apologize for the lack of length.
VortexRainbow Dash was practicing. She zipped through the air, Rainbows trailing her as water vapor that gathered around her reflected the light of the sun. She linked a series of loop-de-loops, before continuing. She was hoping that she would catch the Wonderbolt’s attention with her one-of-a-kind moves. It had been her life-long goal, and she would finally achieve it. Her new trick was to create several Rainbooms until she reached the ground. This idea was farfetched to many ponies, who argued that the speeds would pulp her organs. Furthermore, they argued, the impact would render her unrecognizable. Twilight had put this across much more kindly, but the idea was the same. Rainbow Dash never took no for an answer. It was not how she built her name. Besides, telling her something was not possible was tantamount to a dare. Rainbow Dash did not turn down dares. Pulling out of another series of spins and loops, Rainbow grinned. She lived for this. She lived for the speed, the exhilaration of flight. She flew several miles into the air. She stopped. Looking down, the buildings of Ponyville were like ants, impossible small. In the distance, the indomitable Everfree looked almost peaceful, and shared none of the menace it had from the ground. Green, verdant fields stretched for miles on end. It was beautiful. She hoped that she had gone high enough for her purposes. She stopped admiring the landscape and turned back towards the ground. She pushed, and her wings continually pumped faster. The air formed a glowing cocoon around her, bright and tingling. Goggles protected rainbow’s eyes, but she still squinted as a precaution. She broke the sound barrier, sending rings of prismatic light out parallel to the ground. She continued. There were still many miles to go. She continued straining. Sounds were blotted and distant. There was only the wind in her mane and against her wings. She continued to her sped up plummet. More air cocooned around her. This was faster than she had ever gone before. Everything seemed to blur. Another multi-colored explosion appeared. She was now close enough to the ground to see individual ponies pointing up at the spectacle. Her goggle straps were unable to take the force of the wind. They snapped with shocking finality, and Rainbow found that her eyes were almost unprotected from the wind. She shut her lids tightly to avoid having her eyes torn from their sockets. That would not be a pleasant way to die. He speed continued to breathe. Despite the fact that pegasi were designed to breathe at asphyxiating speeds, Rainbow Dash found herself incapable of taking in more life-giving air. She refused to panic, and continued, trying hard not to exhale. If she breathed out, she would have to call the whole thing off and she would have to start all over again. She did not want that to happen. Rainbow feared nothing but failure. She smiled widely as a third prismatic ring blossomed behind her. But, something was wrong. Her momentum was decreasing. Why? If anything, she should be gaining speed, right? She heard screams of alarm emanating from the ponies below her. They were pointing past her, towards the third ring. Puzzled, Rainbow looked back. What looked like a portal had opened behind her. She did not know how that science stuff worked, but she assumed that if she got sucked through, the results would not be pleasant. She strained herself, trying to escape the hole. Even if it failed to kill her, it would seriously mess up her performance for the Wonderbolts. All attempts to escape were for naught. The portals suction became harder. It seemed as though it was intent on taking Rainbow Dash above everything else, since the other ponies did not seem to be feeling its effects. How did that work? She knew that portals were not supposed to be intelligent or self-aware. She screamed in agony as one of her wings snapped under the pressure exerted. She spiraled out of control. No longer able to resist the suction, Rainbow went through the portal. It was like a long, winding tunnel of blackness. Rainbow felt like she was falling. She hated that sensation, it made her feel helpless. She hit the ground hard, grunting as she did so. She opened her eyes, blinking away spots. She tried to move her right wing, and nearly cried out in agony as pain shot through it. Yes, it was definitely broken. She looked around nervously, trying to get a bearing on her surroundings. She was in a street of some sort. She was surrounded on both sides by shattered buildings. Walls made of a strange, smooth material laid smashed and pulverized against the ground, and destroyed wood beams lay rotting and forgotten. The air was still and quiet. This was not peaceful silence, though. This was the nerve racking, dreaded silence of death. The air smelled of copper. Rainbow’s eyes spun in her head, trying to find any signs of life. There were none. “It’s okay, Rainbow,” she murmured to herself nervously, “So what if you are in an abandoned city? Your friends are going to come looking-!” A loud cracking explosion cut her off. It was followed by another, and another. There was a sudden cacophony of noise. Repeated bangs hammered themselves through her head, and her brain began to pulse. There was screaming in the distance, causing Rainbow to jump back in shock. She winced as the movement sent burning pain through her wing. More explosions and more screaming. The noise abruptly cut off as quickly as it started. There were hoofsteps nearby. They were coming around the corner of the destroyed building. Rainbow Dash rushed towards the sound, fear overridden by hope of impending rescue. “Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthakyou!” She strung the words together. She did not want to stay here much longer. She rounded the corner to see a shocking sight. There were bipedal creatures, wearing what she assumed to be uniforms. The uniforms were identical and grey. They held boxy objects in their hands. The boxy items had cylinders poking from them. Two, she noticed, were carrying what looked like sticks. The sticks had metal parts on top, and terminated in metal cylinders. It was not so much the creatures that shocked her, though. It was the bodies. Dozens of bodies were strewn about. Some were old, festering cadavers. They crawled with the larvae of insects. Their eyes had been the first to go, and their empty sockets seemed to stare accusingly at her, despite the fact that Rainbow Dash had just arrived. They were in rags, some of which had already rotted away. Some wore grey, others khaki. Many were still twisted in odd positions. The skin on one had completely decomposed, revealing a leering skeleton. Its neck was quite obviously snapped, and several ribs were broken. Rainbow Dash did not dwell on whether or not the broken bones were a result of violence. With the rotting corpses were the freshly dead. Their faces were twisted in expressions of agony or surprise. Several of them had been peppered with holes. Blood leaked from the wounds, the ground of the ruined street hungrily absorbing it. Again, some wore khaki, others grey. Sickly, distantly, Rainbow realized that one had been somehow disemboweled, looping intestines wrapped around its legs. To her shock, she realized that the khaki-wearing creature was still breathing. It reached up towards the grey uniformed soldiers. One regarded him, grimacing as it did so. It pointed the cylindrical portion of his boxy tool at the other’s head. Another of the grey soldiers batted the instrument away. “” she heard the alien say in a harsh tongue. “” its comrade responded. Rainbow Dash blinked, not understanding. At this point, her curiosity had overridden her fear. She saw the first soldier nod. The other leveled his implement again. It pulled hinged bar sticking out of it. There was a thunderous explosion, and the creature dressed in khaki jerked back, its head caving in. Blood spread in a pool beneath the creature's head, sinking slowly into the muddy earth. What was it? Was it magic? Rainbow did not want to know at this point. She stumbled back. She tripped over latent rubble. She screamed in agony as she landed on her wing. The grey creatures wheeled towards the source of the noise, bringing their instruments up to point at her. Rainbow Dash picked herself up against the agony and stumbled back. “” She heard one mutter. She stared back at the creature with apprehension. For all she knew they were going to flay alive and eat her. She continued back, but gasped in horror as she felt her back pressed up against a wall. She was cornered. The creature held out a hand. It was likely meant to placate, but Rainbow’s pain-addled mind interpreted it as an action of hostility. She shrank back some more. Normally, she would have fought, but with a broken wing, that was nigh impossible. She decided to go with the next best thing. “HELP!” she screamed “Sweet merciful Celestia, somepony, anypony, HELP ME!” The creature lowered its hand, slowly. Rainbow Dash relaxed. Perhaps they weren't going to kill her, after all. “" it muttered, "” It cleared its throat. “You can talk?” It asked in heavily accented Equish. Author's Note I know how she got there was short and over the top, but everything Rainbow Dash usually is. Please feel free to comment. Your opinion is appreciated. The wall of text syndrome that most of my stories have is now remedied.
Welcome to Hell“You can talk?” Asked the creature, its voice heavily accented. Rainbow Dash blinked in surprise. This barbaric killer, this creature of war, could speak! Not only that, but it understood Equish. Rainbow Dash found that to be nerve-wracking. Twilight may have found this interesting, first contact with an alien race and all that, but Rainbow did not like the thought that something from another world could speak. Rainbow finally found her tongue, and responded, trying to ignore the fact that the creatures before her had killed roughly a dozen of their own kind. “Yeah, I can talk. How can you talk?” “I don’t know what you mean, but I think that you are asking me how I learned English. I learned it at the university of Berlin.” The accent was distracting. He pronounced his “Ws” as “Vs”, his “Vs” as “Fs”, and his “THs” as “Zs”. It was disconcerting. What was English anyway? He was quite plainly speaking Equish. Rainbow Dash had never heard of English, and she was certain she could tell what her own native tongue was. Against her better judgment, she tried to correct him. “You’re speaking Equish. I don’t know what English is.” “Ja?” Came the response, “I was certain that I signed up for English courses. I assume that you have a name?” He was cut off by a loud explosion, which caused him to look around nervously. Rainbow Dash squeaked at the noise. The creature turned away to look at his comrades. He made a motion with his hands. They nodded. There was another cracking explosion. “Scheiße,” he muttered to himself. He turned back towards Rainbow, “We have to go, or we will surely be picked off by snipers." Rainbow wouldn’t budge. She did not want to go with the creature. Sure, he hadn’t attacked her yet, but perhaps this was a ruse to lure her away. She was not about to go anywhere with him until she knew that he would not turn on her. However, a small half of her mind argued that if he meant her harm, he would have killed her long before. He had several others with him, they were well armed, and she was injured. By all rights, if he wanted to eat her, she would already be dead. She stood there, the argument raging in her head. The creature’s voice snapped her out of her thinking. “Um gottes willen!” he snapped, “Do you want to get me shot? Do you want to get shot?” In the distance a multitude of battle cries sounded. “URA!” the cry was punctuated by distant explosions. The creature snarled, “We have to go, NOW!” Rainbow Dash made a split second decision. She began to walk towards the soldier. He nodded. He turned and ran. Rainbow followed him. Several more explosions resounded, and there were tiny pinging noises as objects ricocheted off of pieces of rock. The pain in her wing was almost overwhelming. There was a loud staccato burst. Rainbow saw a group of khaki-dressed soldiers taking cover behind bags filled with sand. They had mounted one of the stick-looking weapons on the sand bags, and were pounding away at her and the others. She resisted the urge to gag as she saw one of the grey-uniformed soldiers pitch back, holes punched through his chest. He spasmed, blood pouring from his lips as he tried to breathe. His eyes glazed over, and his twitching stopped. “Scheiße!” she heard her companion scream in his harsh language, “” He threw himself down behind a strange, black metallic construct that looked like a turtle. He gestured for Rainbow to do the same. She threw herself down next to him. She still did not trust him, but at least he was not trying to kill her, as far as she was concerned. The rest of the soldiers threw themselves behind anything that looked solid. Several held their weapons over their heads, firing wildly in the enemy’s general direction. She saw another soldier pitch back, his face a ruin of bone and tissue. Crimson gore spread beneath him in a puddle, and to her disgust, she saw spatters of grey matter on the wall behind him. Her partner cursed and returned fire blindly. She heard several objects ricocheting of the cover they were behind. “” She heard him order. Rainbow saw one of the soldiers take a cylindrical object out. On closer inspection, it looked like a potato masher. What was a potato masher going to do to help them? Was he going to try and beat them to death with it? She blinked as she saw him wrench the end off of the cylinder. He jumped up and threw the object at the khaki soldiers. Then, he planted himself firmly to the ground, somehow without getting hit by the strange projectiles. “” the soldier screamed. “What does that even mean?” Rainbow murmured to herself. A thunderous explosion shook the ground, and Rainbow squeaked in fear that she used to believe herself incapable of feeling. She heard screaming and several more thunderous explosions. The grey-uniformed soldiers suddenly stood and began aiming at their targets. Each thunderous report of their weapons was rewarded with screaming. She could not see what was happening, because of her comparatively diminutive size. Perhaps that was a good thing. Her curiosity got the better of her, however and she peaked out from behind her position. What she saw horrified her. The ground where the “potato masher” had exploded was completely scorched. The three man crew of the rapid-fire weapon were twisted in various disturbing positions. One had a large hole in his throat where a large, jagged piece of something had torn through. Blood splattered the walls in a fashion that seemed demented to Rainbow. One of the khaki soldiers had been completely decapitated, the stump of his neck pumping blood violently. The stench of burning flesh wafted to Rainbow’s nose. She gagged at the smell, and stared around in apprehension. She felt something tapping her shoulder. She looked back to see her companion appraising her. “Let’s go,” he said, “We should not stay here long. The Soviets will be back in full force.” The soldier led his bedraggled companions towards a building that was more or less intact. Once they were safely inside, and the doors barred, he turned to Rainbow Dash. “Now,” he said, smiling, “I believe that introductions are in order.” Rainbow Dash stared at him, her brain still behind after witnessing the earlier violence. The creature frowned briefly. Rainbow Dash did not want to think what a frown could imply. He shrugged. She sighed in relief. “I take you haven’t seen action before?” Rainbow shook her head. The creature smiled in an attempt to reassure her. She interpreted it as a predatory, sadistic smile. Surely something capable of such violence would only think of death and destruction, right? “Oh,” he spoke softly, “I see.” Rainbow looked at him closely, observing him for the first time. He had brown eyes. She could not see his hair, which was hidden under a steel helmet. He stood at roughly six feet tall. To Rainbow, who was only four feet tall, saw this as menacing height. He removed his helmet, and placed it on a table by the door. As he ran his hand through his hair, Rainbow could see that his hair was brown. This was odd. These creatures all looked almost identical. They did not seem to have cutie-marks, and they most certainly did not act like ponies, who refrained from taking lives. The fact that she was no longer in Equestria sank in. The creature spoke again, “I am Unterfeldwebel Hans Richter of the Wehrmacht.” He intoned it almost bitterly. Rainbow was sure there was a back-story to it. However, from what she had seen of this world, she was sure she did not want to know. “I’m Rainbow Dash,” she replied, trying to pick up her courage through pain and shock. “An interesting name,” he said, “Tell me, what are you, and where are you from?” “I’m a pony,” Rainbow mumbled slowly, “I’m from Equestria.” “Equestria? I have never heard of an Equestria, and I studied geography. Is it in Asia, Europe, Africa, North America, or South America?” “I have never heard of those places,” Rainbow responded, wincing as she again tried to move her broken wing, “Where the hay am I anyway?” “You’re in Stalingrad. Or, as we call it, Hell. Welcome, and pray that you do not stay long,” Hans sighed. Author's Note Please feel free to comment. Your opinion is valued.
Building TiesRainbow blinked a few times, incomprehensive. Where was Stalingrad? She had heard of a Stalliongrad, but never Stalingrad. Of course, it was very likely that she wasn’t in the same world anymore, so name discrepancies were the least of her concerns. She needed to find a way back. From what she had seen here, she wanted back fast! The distant cracking explosions continued in the distance. From here, they were merely an irritant to her. It was quite unlike the cacophonous thunderstorm she had experience earlier. What the explosions signified, though, was nervewracking. Every time one of those explosions sounded, it was to kill something. It was a horrifying thought, especially with the volume of fire. There were louder, deeper explosions as well. She kept listening. Hans cleared his throat, causing her gaze to drift back towards him. “I think you know why we call it hell, ja?” Rainbow nodded slowly. There was a thunderous explosion nearby. By force of habit, Rainbow’s wings shot open. She instantly regretted it. The wing is the most vulnerable and sensitive area on the pegasi’s body. They use it to sense temperatures and wind currents, and it is the catalyst for their magic. There are several drawbacks to this. Having a broken wing can lead to severe agony for pegasi, as a result of hyper sensitive nerves. This noted, it is needless to say that Rainbow fairly screamed in agony from her involuntary movement. Hans thought that it was a scream of fear, “What? That one was two blocks away. The shrapnel can’t hit us from that distance.” Rainbow Dash simply whimpered in response. The pain was unbearable, and she was sure that moving the wing had severely aggravated the fracture. She looked back at her wing, which now flopped by her side, incapable of movement. Bent out of shape, the arm continued to send pulses of burning pain. She knew that if this continued, she could totally lose response from her wing. No more flying, and no more opportunities to enter the Wonderbolts. She did not want that to happen. Hans took note of the limp movement of her wing. Pausing to think, he decided to do something about it. He had never treated wings before, but he assumed that it wouldn’t be hard. He had fixed busted limbs multiple times during the heavy fighting that took place daily in Stalingrad. He was no medic, but he thought of himself as competent in bandaging. “Let me see your wing,” he said, gesturing to her injured limb as he put his gun down. He made sure that it was still in reach if he had need of it. She reluctantly stretched her wing out, flinching as the movement brought yet more pain. Hans felt where the wing was bent. Rainbow winced as pain once again shot through her wing arm. Hans nodded to himself. It was certainly a compound fracture. He reached into one of his bags, pulling out a field bandage. He forced the wing back into what he approximated to be the right position. He quickly bound the afflicted area. He pulled the bandage tight, once again setting Rainbow’s nerves on fire. He stood up slowly. He listened to the distant gunshots, noting whether or not they were getting closer. They were not. Sufficiently satisfied that they were in no immediate danger, he left his gun on the table, next to his helmet. He stared at the wing incredulously. They were so small, and appeared so delicate. Were they even capable of lifting her? Of course, she was a winged, multi-colored horse that could talk. If that was possible, he supposed anything was. “Sooo…” he heard her say, “Are you in charge around here?” “Do you mean of this squad?” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Nein. We had a lieutenant here not too long ago. What a foolish bastard he was! I told him not to stand. He did. A sniper blew his brains out. It was too bad, you know, he was very young. He couldn’t be older than nineteen. In the advent of his death, I had to take command.” Hans shrugged before continuing, “If you are talking about overall command, that would fall to General Friedrich Paulus.” “What are you anyways?” “My species…?” Hans was slightly thrown off by her question. Rainbow nodded. “Well, we are all humans, unless you are talking about Fritz here. I still haven’t decided what he is.” Fritz, the only other soldier in the squad with an understanding of English, gave him the finger. Hans chuckled to himself. Rainbow Dash didn’t seem to get that it was a joke. She turned to Fritz. “What are you, then?” Fritz stared daggers at Hans, “I am a human too. I apologize for our esteemed Unterfeldwebel’s ignorance. Perhaps he should go back to school.” “Fick dich!” Hans responded, grinning. “Fick dich auch, Hans,” Fritz responded with a grin of his own. He and Hans were childhood friends, so he took some liberty. The other soldiers chuckled at the crude banter. Rainbow Dash glanced between the both, ignorant to what was going on between them. She hoped that there wasn’t going to be a fight. She had seen enough for one day, and would do anything for sleep. Sleep would likely be impossible though, considering the thundering explosions that continually occurred. There was a whistling screech overhead. It pierced Rainbow’s ears, causing her to flinch. The soldiers threw themselves to the ground. Rainbow looked around, confused. Why were they so nervous? Her question was answered when a massive explosion blew in the wall.
Unwelcome ReinforcementRainbow Dash painfully picked herself off the ground as the screaming whistles continued. In the distance thundering explosions continued, causing the ground to shake as in an earthquake. Rainbow checked herself for damage. Nothing new was broken, and she seemed to have gotten away with just a few bruises. She looked around to find the building utterly devastated. It was more or less whole when she came in with the soldiers, but it was now lacking a wall. Rubble was strewn randomly inside the building. She saw one soldier laying over a pile of rubble. She cantered to his side. Spinning him around with her hoof, she almost wretched at what she saw. His entire face was missing. It had been brutally stripped away by the explosion, and his eye had been obliterated. His chest was punctured with pieces of metal that had scythed overhead with the detonation. His remaining eye was glassy and still, rolled back in the embrace of death. Blood smeared the ground behind him, flowing through cracks and crevices created by the explosion. Rainbow had always boasted to being the bravest among her friends. This claim was reduced to nothing before the horror of the violence. She heard the noise of clattering stone. She spun to see Hans painfully extracting himself from a pile of rubble. He flinched as he put weight on his leg. It was not broken, but it was obviously sprained. There was a coughing noise behind one of the pieces of rubble. Hans threw his gaze to the origin of the noise. He hobbled over to find another soldier trying to move his leg from under a large piece of the building. With much straining they managed to remove the piece of rubble. Hans offered a hand to the soldier, who gratefully took it. Pulling his comrade up, Hans false groaned, “” Fritz grinned and patted him on the back, “” Rainbow Dash blinked, ignorant to their conversation. She coughed on the latent dust floating in the air, causing the two friends to turn and look at her. Hans’ eyes drifted to the area behind her, where the cadaver remained on the pile of rubble. He grimaced as he stumbled to the corpse. Going down on one knee, Hans felt alongside the body’s throat. Rainbow could only assume that he was looking for a pulse. Hans sighed, and reached to a chain around the soldier’s throat. With a quick pull of his wrist, he removed an oval piece of metal that was dangling from it. He pocketed the object. He closed the soldier’s eyes with his fingers, and stood up. “His name was Heinz,” Hans stated simply, “He was just eighteen.” Rainbow was seized with a sense of tragedy. He was only eighteen. One so young could die so violently here? It was a horrifying thought. Young age did not make one exempt from death. Rainbow was roughly eighteen, doubling the impact. What if she died? What would her friends do without her? What would death even be like? Rainbow Dash’s stunts had always been hailed as “death-defying”, but never before in her life had she been so confronted by the concept of death. She was surrounded by the dead and dying. How could she ever consider herself courageous when these humans were facing death daily? “Hans!” Fritz called, “Kommen sehen!” Rainbow followed Hans to Fritz’s side. When she saw what Fritz was staring at, she once again felt her gorge rise. Another soldier was draped behind a piece of rubble. What truly horrified Rainbow, though, was the fact that he was in half. His torso was completely separated from his legs. There was a single strand of ruby red intestine ran between both halves, showing that they had, in fact, been conjoined. His face was twisted in an expression of abject agony. His death had not been instantaneous. Trails of blood still leaked from his lips, where he had been coughing up his internal fluids. Since his heart had stopped beating, blood had ceased to flow from his bisected remains. Once again, Hans removed the tag, and closed the victim’s eyes. “Konrad…” he mumbled, eyes tired and filled with pain, “He had a wife, two children…” He stood stiffly, before turning to the other two survivors. “We have to find new shelter. The Soviets will be through here soon, and I don’t want to be caught in the open.” He spoke in Equish, or English as he called it, for Rainbow’s benefit. “Soviets?” Rainbow asked. “Bolshevik Russians,” Hans amended. Rainbow was still confused. It was obvious that the Soviets were hostile to Hans and the rest. Why this animosity between them? They were both the same species; surely, they could live together in harmony. Hans claimed one of the boxy implements from the ground. Fritz still had his firmly in hand. A whistling shriek sounded overhead. This time, Rainbow did throw herself to the ground. At least Rarity was not here, she would have hated to be in the dirt like this. The thought of her friend brought to Rainbow Dash a feeling of loneliness. Sure, she was not alone, but she had no friends here. This was a hostile world of war. How was she to survive. In the distance, the now familiar staccato burst of an automatic weapon resounded. It was answered by cracking explosions. She heard screaming in the distance. It caused her to flinch. It was a cry of agony. It sounded of unspeakable horror and pain. A massive explosion ended all screaming. There was a bright flashing in the distance. More distant cracking explosions. The cacophony was repeated endlessly as if on loop. It was a nightmare. On and on and on it continued. So many lives were ending suddenly. Rainbow and Fritz followed the limping form of Hans. His weapon was held loosely by his side. They were silent. Rainbow could not tell whether it was from mourning, or from nervousness of getting caught. Perhaps it was both. The tension was killing her, and she did not know how much more she could take. “So…” she began, “Why are you fighting the Soviets?” “We invaded them,” Hans grunted. “So, why are you killing them like that? They’re only trying to defend their homes!” Rainbow was shocked. Who in their right mind would willingly invade another nation like that? “Does it look like I have a choice?” Hans hissed in response, “I’m a soldier, I follow orders. I kill them because if I do not, they will kill me and my comrades. I hate being here.” “Then why did you join the army?” Rainbow hissed back. “I was drafted! I had no choice but to join. I have a family, you know. I would never have joined the Werhmacht of my own accord!” “Wait, they forced you to join the army?” “Ja, military service is mandatory for all those aged eighteen to twenty-five. You do not have mandatory military service where you come from?” “No! You can volunteer for the Royal Guard, but they can’t force you. Why would they? Equestria hasn’t had a war for centuries!” “You haven’t had a war for centuries? That is miraculous indeed. We have wars every decade or so.” “Every decade?” asked a horrified Rainbow Dash, “How can you have so many wars?” Hans' answer was lost in a massive explosion. Rainbow Dash heard roaring as a building collapsed violently from the detonation. Ruble spilled into the streets. She heard screaming, and realized in horror that there were people trapped underneath the rubble. Hans continued past, tensing as he heard the agonized voices crying out for help. “Aren’t we going to help them?” Rainbow Dash called out to him. Hans sighed, “There are only three of us, and we are all injured. How can we help?” Rainbow felt her gut twist as she realized that he was right. There was nothing they could do. The massive pieces of rubble required several people to lift. Rainbow couldn’t lift things effectively, since she only had hooves. Fritz and Hans were not going to be enough. There were voices ahead. Hans and Fritz instinctively threw themselves to the ground, in case the voices belonged to Russians. They listened closely. “” Hans muttered to Fritz. “” Fritz replied. Rainbow glanced between the two of them nervously, ignorant to what they were saying. Hans stood up slowly. There were black-uniformed soldiers close to their position.He waved to them with his free hand. “” Hans called towards the figures. “” Came the reply. “” Hans shouted back. “What are you doing?” whispered Rainbow Dash, glancing between the black uniformed soldiers and her "friends". “Trading identification,” Hans replied briefly before returning his attention to the other soldiers. “” The response came back. “” Hans cursed to himself. “What’s the matter?” Rainbow queried. “You are about to meet the Waffen Schutzstaffel, the most cold-hearted bastards you are ever going to see,” Hans sighed. Author's Note Please feel free to comment. Your opinion is always valued.
AmbushHans trudged towards the SS squad, Fritz and Rainbow Dash in tow. It was the last thing he wanted to do. He had no love for the Waffen-SS, and their brutal, unorthodox methods. But they were German, and likely had shelter. For Hans, that was enough. He exchanged salutes with the one who identified himself as SS- Scharführer Friedhelm Richtofen. He used the combat salute, raising his hand to his brow, parallel to the ground. In turn, Richtofen gave him the Nazi salute, his arm straight out. Hans sighed, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. There was the fanaticism that the SS was famous for. Richtofen and his squad were staring at Rainbow Dash with a mixture of confusion and surprise, emotions that SS fighters didn’t often feel. Hans supposed they had never seen anything like her. At least, he didn’t think it was very likely. It wasn’t everyday that a cyan-furred, rainbow-maned pegasus suddenly appeared from another dimension. Rainbow, returned the gaze. There was some semblance of hostility in her eyes. It still surprised Hans to no small degree how expressive her face was, despite the fact that she was an Equine. Richtofen’s cold, blue eyes seemed to bore into him, “” he asked in German. Hans shrugged indifferently, “” he responded. “” Richtofen’s gaze remained unwavering. “” Hans sighed, “” More explosions and gunshots rang out in the distance, causing several of the men to look around warily. Rainbow Dash, Hans noted, flinched. He supposed that that was not a great surprise. He had flinched the first time he heard gunfire. It was something you had to “get used to”, if that was even possible. Richtofen’s eyebrow arched at Rainbow Dash’s human-like response. He thought he heard the Scharführer muttering something about vivisections under his breath. “” Hans stated. “” The gunfire was getting nearer. Richtofen smile slowly, like a wolf. Hans was always concerned when he saw SS soldiers smiling like that. It usually meant that something was going to die, get tortured, or both. Richtofen gestured to his squad machine gunner, and instructed him to take position behind a pile of rubble in the middle of the street. It would be an effective choke point. “” he instructed his men. “” Hans sighed as he took position. He motioned Rainbow Dash over, as he checked his magazine to make sure it was full. She trotted quickly to his side, aware that things were going to become very hot, very fast. The gunfire ceased, and booted feet could be heard coming down the street. Hans clutched his reinserted his magazine and cocked his MP-40. “We are going to ambush a group of Soviet soldiers,” Hans stated in English, “Keep your head down, and stay out of the way. This could be bad.” Rainbow opened her mouth to protest, only to be interrupted by the sounds of heavy boot steps trudging down the street. Hans estimated that there were roughly twenty of them. “Stay down, and don’t get shot,” he repeated. “” the machine gunner screamed in German. A cacophony of noise erupted as the MG-42 opened fire. Hans looked up over his cover, to see a screaming Russian decapitated by the stream of bullets. Blood spurted wildly from the stub of his throat as his head rolled away from his corpse. Hans blinked the image away, certain that he would be having nightmares of this for years after. He aimed his MP-40, and fired over his cover in short, three-round bursts. The SS squad fired with unrivaled efficiency. Each shot was a headshot. Blood spurted wildly from opened craniums, and Hans saw pink brain matter splatter against a wall, as one of the Soviets jerked back, his head blown open by a well placed Karabiner round. The Russians attempted to return fire, but were too heavily suppressed to do much in the way of fighting back. Several attempted to charge the machine gun position, only to be hosed down by high caliber bullets. One had his arm amputated, gore coating his uniform and the ground beneath him. He went down screaming in abject agony. The SS troops ignored him completely, leaving him to writhe in unrelenting pain. A grenade exploded, sending bodies both alive and dead through the air. The ground shook under the force of the detonation. He saw one Russian trying to crawl away, his legs mangled beyond recognition. Shrapnel studded his body, and blood leaked from his wounds. An SS soldier quickly dispatched the screaming soldier with a round to the head. The Russian’s face snapped forward as the bullet passed into his brain. He twitched for a couple of seconds, before falling still in a pool of his own blood. “” One of the SS soldiers called out in Russian, “” Hans believed that the SS soldier had told the Russians that they would not be harmed if they surrendered, or at least, something along those lines. It was a lie. The SS only took prisoners to extract information. They extracted it painfully and slowly. Once they had what they wanted, they would grant their victims mercy with a bullet to the back of the head. Never once had he seen it otherwise. Two Russians stood, their hands raised. They stared at the Germans with resentment and unbridled hatred. Hans understood why. He would hate anyone who invaded and raped his nation as well. As the SS soldiers led the Russians away, Richtofen approached Hans. “” Hans simply nodded, trudging after the Waffen-SS squad, Fritz and Rainbow Dash once again in tow. Author's Note Please feel free to comment.
The Face of EvilIt did not take long for what Hans had identified as “Waffen-SS” to find shelter. The building, like many that occupied Stalingrad, was constructed from a strange, grey material. The back of the building had been partially demolished by what Rainbow assumed to be one of the “shells”. The rubble was stacked in incongruous layers, and Rainbow was horrified to see a hand sticking out from the pile. Hans and Fritz ignored the corpse, hardened by war. The Waffen-SS simply dragged the body from the pile and hurled it out to rot alone. This act was completed with indifference. The Russian prisoners had been dragged in like animals. Hans had strenuously declared that they were human, and were to be treated with dignity. Richtofen had coldly laughed it off. Grinning sadistically, he had stated that the Russians would be taken care of as according to their race. Since the SS soldiers apparently saw Russians as sub-human, the prisoners’ prospects seemed dim. Rainbow shuddered as the thought entered her mind. What kind of creature saw a member of its own race as an animal? Apparently, the concept of racial superiority was not new to the humans, despite the shock that it inspired in Rainbow. Equestria prided itself in being unbiased, and the concept of oppression by race was a concept that Rainbow was not at all comfortable with. The SS troops had, for the most part, ignored her. They went about various jobs, setting up defensive positions and standing guard. Rainbow couldn’t help but admire their disciplined zeal, oppressively racist though they were. They were organized to such a degree, that they would put Twilight herself to shame. That was terrifying. Twilight, by Rainbow’s reckoning, was literally the god of organization. Then, there was the impassive demeanor. Rainbow had never seen individuals so seemingly emotionless in her life. They surpassed even the Royal Guard. At least the Royal Guard were capable of displaying emotion. The SS soldiers seemed incapable of basic emotions. In all her time around them, she had seen nary a show of life. Perhaps they relaxed in their private time. All creatures had friends, right? Richtofen, the squad leader, unnerved her far more than the other soldiers. Although he did not speak often, he understood Equish, “English” in this world. However, what he had said betrayed limitless sadism and an unnatural willingness to kill. He was a psychopath beyond any ever known to Equestria. Saying that he enjoyed torture would not be entirely accurate. He loved torturing and inflicting pain upon others. This shocked Rainbow a fair deal. In Equestria, there had not been a serial killer or confirmed psychopath for roughly five-hundred years, according to Twilight. It was far different here. SS members, according to Hans, were recruited for being amoral killers. They enjoyed violence, and made no move to hide it, and Richtofen was the prime example. Hans had warned her to stay away from him, claiming that Richtofen was dead set on cutting her up. Rainbow had tried to act brave, claiming that she could “totally take him on”. This was untrue, and Rainbow knew it. The creatures here were far more experienced in violence. She resolved to stick with Hans whenever Richtofen was around. Verily, she did not wish to be disemboweled for another’s pleasure. Screams resonated from deeper within the building. They had been continuing for several hours, and betrayed pure and unbridled agony. Rainbow had assumed her broken wing was the most painful thing one could experience. Evidently, it was not. The voices betrayed inexpressible horror at their plight. Rainbow shuddered at the noises. How could a being inflict such pain upon another? The answer was obvious: insanity. The screams abated for some time, and she could hear yelling in “German,” as Hans had called it. The response was a pained moaning in what she assumed was “Russian.” The voices stopped and the screaming continued. Next to her, Hans flinched with each outburst of pain. “How could they do something like this?” she asked, more out of disbelief than ignorance. “They are the SS. They enjoy doing this,” Hans had sighed in response. The answer did little to comfort Rainbow. She noticed the still form of Fritz sleeping peacefully through the screams. “How can he sleep through this?” Rainbow asked incredulously. “Believe me, Rainbow Dash, he has slept through much worse,” Hans replied with mild amusement, flinching at a particularly loud scream. "You're taking this well," Rainbow responded with some disgust, "How can you stand it?" "Saying that I can stand it would be a lie. I can't. But, intervening with the Waffen-SS's affairs is never a good idea. You eventually get somewhat used to it." "Used to it? How do you get used to...to this?" "By having it around you for two years. It slowly takes the humanity out of you," Hans sighed. "What do you mean, takes the humanity out of you?" Hans's inevitable elaboration was cut off by a loud explosion, a gunshot. Hans bolted upright, his gun aimed warily. He realized that the shot had resonated from within the de facto interrogation at around the same time Rainbow did. There was a loud thump, and the sound of flowing liquid. The upstairs door opened, and a limp object was thrown down the stairs. Rainbow realized with horror that it was a body, although it was almost unrecognizable as such. His mouth was gritted in a horrified rictus, and pieces of bone protruded from his head. His eye was utterly annihilated by a heavy blow, further destroyed by the bullet which had passed through his cranium, sending bone shrapnel into his brain. What horrified Rainbow the most, though, was the marked lack of skin. Massive strips had been cruelly cut away, and the injuries had been cauterized. It was no wonder that he had been screaming. Rainbow suddenly felt the urge to wretch, and comforted herself with a singular thought: at least Fluttershy isn’t here. Author's Note Evil Nazis are evil. Please feel free to comment. Your opinion shall always be valued.
KillingSilence reigned supreme at the scene of the flayed corpse. Blood flowed on the hard floor, slowly inching its way towards the entrance. It glistened a crimson in the half light. The blood looked almost beautiful, in a perverse, twisted sense. What was not beautiful was where it came from. The sound of rapidly spoken Russian broke silences reign. The voice was pleading, begging. This was an obvious sign that the SS personnel were still carrying on with their “interrogation.” Hans dragged a bleary eyed Fritz out the door. Rainbow Dash rushed after them, confused. Why were they leaving? If she were Hans, she would confront those jerks and tell them exactly what she thought of them. Why wasn’t Hans doing anything? Maybe she would tell whoever was in charge of them, get them punished. Surely they weren’t all like that! Hans only smiled bitterly at Rainbow Dash’s proclamation. “Tell their commanding officer? He would reward them for a job well done. Do you even know who he is? Right. Of course not. Their commander is SS-Oberfuhrer Dieter Heinrich, the Butcher of Stalingrad. Believe me, he ordered them to do this,” Hans sighed. “Dieter Heinrich? But why would he order them to do something like this?” “I met Oberfuhrer Heinrich once. I am convinced that he isn’t human. At least with the other SS you can see some sort of joy or life while they carry out their work, and can actually be decent during down time. But Heinrich is different. He has no emotion. His eyes look dead…and his smiles, well, let me say that he smiles like a wolf.” “Wouldn’t his commander be against that?” “Against Heinrich? Gott, no! In their eyes, he is an exemplary Aryan and officer, an example for Germans everywhere. They like his efficiency, his willingness. He isn’t held back by morals. He totally embodies the values of the Third Reich, to the point where they think that he was born a perfect Nazi.” Rainbow Dash shuddered at that. Hans had explained the Nazi ideology to her, from “Beyond Good and Evil,” to “survival of the fittest,” and the concept of being better than others. The Nazis believed that they were the fittest, and that everyone else was worthy only of death or slavery. Their belief was centered completely around militarism and conquest. It was painfully apparent to Rainbow that this world was nothing like Equestria. In Equestria, the worst anypony had ever gotten was Discord, and stuff like that only happened every few millennia according to Twilight. Here, war and death was the status quo. Peace was simply a front for preparing for war. This world, according to Hans, was in a constant state of unrest and conflict. That the humans had survived for so long was a testament to their spirit. It was hard to believe the sheer ability of the Humans. They could level entire cities and kill thousands with ease. They had become so efficient in killing that they could blow off someone’s head from several meters away. It was terrifying. It was barbaric, to use Rarity’s terminology, the only thing that fit. Rainbow Dash had though that Discord was bad, but he didn’t hold a candle up to humans. All he had done was basically pranked the ponies. Fritz had pulled out a map, and was speaking to Hans in German. He was gesturing to various points marked on it. They were some distance from the shelter that the SS had commandeered, and the sky was already dark. Fritz was using a lighter to illuminate the paper. Hans was gesturing to other locations, presumably German posts. “” Fritz opened his mouth to respond to Hans, but was cut off by a loud bang. He stood there for a moment, eyes wide in shock. Blood sprayed wildly. There was a large hole in the side of his head, and another in his throat on the other side. He sank to his knees gasping as Hans spun around in confusion. Rainbow Dash threw herself to the ground. Another loud bang, and Hans was spun backwards, a hole opening in his arm. Hans grunted, gritting his teeth against the obvious pain. His grey uniform was stained with blood, both Fritz’s and his own. A door was thrown open and khaki uniformed soldier strode out. Rainbow Dash couldn’t see clearly, but she though she saw a red star on his lapel. This had to be a Russian. Hans whipped out his pistol to defend himself. The Russian crushed his hand under a heavy boot, forcing another pained grunt out of Hans. The Russian then withdrew his own pistol, and with eyes full of malice and hatred, took aim at Hans head. A million thoughts went through Rainbow’s mind. What could she do? What should she do? Hans was her friend, at least, she thought so. However, she couldn’t just attack the Russian could she? The Russian was going to kill the only person she knew around here. She couldn’t allow that to happen. She wouldn't allow that to happen. She made a rash, split second decision like all the others she had operated upon in her life. She threw herself at the Russian. Rainbow Dash could go at massive velocities on short notice, and the sheer force and momentum of the blow sent the Russian headfirst into a wall. There was a loud crack, and the Russian’s head lolled limply. Hans had regained his footing, grimacing as he clutched the wound in his arm. It was a flesh wound, he believed. At this point, what he needed to be worried about was the possibility of Gangrene from infection. He quickly bound the wound with a field dressing. He finally turned towards Rainbow Dash, who was trembling with shock. She was staring at the Russian, whose neck was snapped. Hans had seen the look before, and had likely worn it himself at some point. The look never lasted long. “I…I…I…killed someone! How could I do that? How? Oh Sweet Celestia, I killed someone.” Hans had said something similar the first time he had killed. He could only say what he had been told by his superior. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned to Fritz's body. He closed Fritz's eyes almost reverently, mourning the loss of yet another friend. He had lost to many to count. With his eyes closed, Fritz looked like he was sleeping, almost peaceful. The bullet wound was the only thing that detracted from the illusion. "" Hans choked, his voice betraying the weight his soul felt. Tears refused to come. Hans had already cried too many tears over dead comrades.
Meeting Meeting War left some pretty nasty imprints, Rainbow Dash realized. Not once had she seen Hans sleep in the entirety of the time she had known him. He did everything that was possible to stay awake, injuring himself just to make sure that he could stay awake. At first, Rainbow could not understand this behavior. Surely, sleep would help him, right? Rainbow quickly learned his reasons for staying awake. She went to sleep in one of their rare moments of “safety,” if that was what they could be called. She was tortured by her dreams. Dreams of blood, of death, of the man she killed. He bayed for her blood, he cried for vengeance for the injustice so plainly wrought against him. Bones smashed, organs streaming from opened bellies, all of it replayed in her mind. There was such nightmarish clarity to the dreams, that Rainbow Dash could barely differentiate reality from the dreams. She was constantly waking up screaming. She joined Hans in refusal to sleep. Truthfully, when Rainbow Dash was awake, she could suppress it. She could hang on to a veneer of calm, she could ignore the killing, the death. She could detach herself. Rest only caused her to lower the barriers that kept the howling spirits out of her mind. Thus, they haunted her, tortured her, just as they tortured Hans. How much worse was it for him? After all, it was his own species. Several shells screamed overhead, and the never-ending gunfire intensified briefly. Hans looked up from tending to his injuries as a particularly large explosion shook the earth. The detonation was followed up with the distinctive staccato burst of a heavy machine gun. Rapid rifle fire told him that someone was attempting to reclaim a building. Hans stared down the street, attempting to gain a line of sight on the battle occurring. Rainbow Dash did likewise. Explosions roiled out of the windows of a tenement block down the street. Khaki uniformed soldiers were flooding through the doors. Several were hit by German gunfire, blood spurting as they toppled over. A soldier rushed to the door carrying a nozzle attached to a canister mounted on his back. Rainbow Dash wondered what it was. The question was quickly answered when a gout of flame sprayed out of the nozzle. Loud screams emanated from inside the building. A grey figure toppled through the door, smoke rising from his burning clothes. He rolled madly on the ground, screeching in obvious agony. The screams stopped as a bullet punctured his head in a spurt of crimson. The Soviet soldiers poured into the building. After a few more shots, no more was heard from inside. “We have to go,” Hans sighed, “It is no longer safe here. They will be a round shortly.” “Where?” Asked Rainbow Dash, too tired to add in her usual energetic flair. “There is a forward command post a few kilometers from here. I am unsure if it is still standing, but it is our best bet at this point.” Rainbow Dash was forced to agree. The last thing she wanted was to face that fire spewing monstrosity of a weapon. That would only cause problems. Rainbow Dash was used to facing near death experiences at home, but next to her current situation, they seemed trivial. Getting her wing pinned at Ghastly was incomparable to being unable to fly due to fear of death. Rainbow Dash hated that. Flying was the most important thing in the world to her, and it was denied to her. How was she ever supposed to get home? At this point, she was feeling homesick. She missed her friends, she missed her job, she missed Ponyville, and she missed the innocent times that she had previously resented. What she wanted was the monotony of sky clearing. It was ironic. She spent most of her life hoping for some action, and as soon as she saw it in all of its violence, she wished for the boredom of her normal life. Hans and Rainbow Dash began to trek in the direction of the German forward position. At this point, they could clear only a small distance during the day, as snipers peaked out of every building. At nighttime, they could move with greater ease, even though caution still ruled at the top of their minds. Hans estimated that it would take the rest of the day and the entirety of the night to reach the forward position. Hans’ estimates proved prophetic. As the sky began to lighten, the duo caught sight of crimson banners fluttering in the breeze, attached to the front of a rather large tenement. The Balkenkreuz seemed to expand and shrink with the flag’s movement. For Hans, there was no sight more welcome. For Rainbow Dash, the sight only brought uncertainty. How would the position’s garrison receive her? Black uniformed soldiers moved about in front of the building, and silhouettes appeared in windows. Upon coming closer, Rainbow recognized the feared dual lightning bolt sigil. The Waffen SS had apparently made this building their home. Hans stopped short, staring at one SS soldier in particular. The soldier stared back, his blue eyes soulless and without emotion. “Dieter? Dieter Heinrich?” Hans asked incredulously. “Hans Richter. What a surprise to see you here,” came the eerily cold response. Author's Note Happy New Year, everyone! Thank you for your support.
Old "Friends"Hans almost sighed. It was just his luck. Of all the command posts that he had to arrive in, it was the one the Dieter Heinrich was at. This, and many other things gave Hans the distinct impression that God hated him. It could almost be considered ironic, he supposed. He was just telling Rainbow Dash about the butcher, and here he was. Hans was briefly reminded of the English saying, “Speak of the Devil, and the Devil will come.” It seemed more accurate than ever before. Dieter didn’t look much different. He had the same glacial eyes, same blond hair, same marked lack of emotion. Hans knew Dieter better than he was willing to admit. Dieter at this point was probably more interested in the pony than anything else, both from surprise, and a marked need to understand how the pony ticked. Hans resisted gritting his teeth at the thought of what Dieter would do. “” Hans grated through his teeth. Dieter shrugged, uncaring, “” This time Hans did sigh, “” Dieter smiled, though his eyes remained piercing and dead, “” Hans rolled his eyes, used to Dieter’s theatrics and subtle mockery. Rainbow Dash looked quizzically between the two of them, her fears temporarily abating at the German conversation between them. She did not know why, but she sensed an air of familiarity to them. It was not familiarity between friends. It was more between rivals, or old enemies. Hans obviously had no love of Dieter Heinrich, and Dieter Heinrich…it was hard to understand what he was thinking. Rainbow still had a hard time reading human expressions, but it looked rather like Heinrich had no emotion whatsoever in his face. Rainbow certainly couldn’t see any in his eyes. Hans changed the subject, “” There was finally a brief flicker of emotion in Dieter’s eyes. Something approaching sadness. It was gone in a heartbeat, and Hans almost couldn't believe that it had been there in the first place. “” Dieter responded slowly. Hans could have almost sworn he heard Dieter sigh. If that were the case, this would be only the second time he had ever seen the SS officer display emotion. These things were rare and far between. This almost impossible display of emotion convinced Hans more than all else of the truth behind Dieter’s words. “” Hans whispered, “” He exclaimed, more out of shock than any genuine disbelief. “” the cold reply. Hans unleashed a flurry of profanities in German, followed by a series in French, and one in English. Rainbow Dash was shocked at the sudden display of anger that Hans was showing. She looked around uncomfortably as she noticed more of the Waffen-SS staring at her, with obvious surprise. Some wore expressions of horror and shock, muttering among themselves in their harsh language. She couldn’t blame them. She didn’t belong here. “” “” Dieter explained in a tone that could be used to discuss the weather. Hans bristled at the callous response, "” Hans suddenly found Dieter’s hand seizing his collar. When he looked up, he saw something that he had never expected to see. Pure emotion. Dieter’s face was a mask of rage, sorrow and pain, in equal amounts. It seemed that he was visibly restraining himself. “” Dieter hissed, his voice betraying more emotion than Hans thought possible, ”” The last part had so much venom pushed into it, that Hans could barely believe that Dieter had been the one who spoke. This belied the normally emotionless manner of Erich's brother. Dieter drew a knife, holding it up to Hans’s face, “” Hans could only stammer, immediately recognizing the combat knife, which still had Erich's initials crudely carved into it. Dieter released Hans’s collar, his face already melting back into an expression of total apathy. By now, an inquisitive group of Waffen-SS personnel were surrounding the terrified Rainbow Dash, some throwing quick glances at the two officers. Hans watched as they prodded her and observed her reactions. When she had talked and in no uncertain terms told them to stop, this was received with a great deal of shock and a lot more excitement, as well as a strange lack of death threats. This was the Waffen-SS at its most human, Hans supposed. “” Dieter ordered his men coldly, “” “What is their problem?” Rainbow dash inquired. “Not now,” Hans almost snapped. Rainbow was taken aback by the sudden mood shift, but remained silent, watching. Erich had been Hans’s best, closest friend. They, along with Fritz, had known each other since they were toddlers, and were inseparable as children. Hans’s family had been equally close with theirs. Even then, Dieter had been a cold bastard, content to be left alone to his own devices. He rarely talked, and he always watched. When Dieter’s father returned from the war, the Great Depression was only just beginning. Dieter had to work with his father to help support the Heinrich family, and Erich sought out his own job. Then it happened. The tragedy that changed everything. During a standup, the elder Heinrich was stabbed to death, Dieter badly injured. Hans remembered that day from Erich’s reaction. His face had been a mask of tears. He couldn’t believe that his beloved vatti was dead. He had been so afraid for his brother’s safety. Even then, Erich had been the more human of the two. Dieter did display some emotion, but whatever he was thinking was permanently buried behind that mask of his. Then, the two murderers died. Erich had commented the night before that his knife (which had been a gift from his father after the Great War) was missing. Hans had spent most of the night staring out the window. During the night, he saw Dieter sneak out of the house. Two hours later, he returned drenched in blood. Erich found his knife by his bed the next morning. The newspapers declared the murders. Hans never told anyone. Erich had expressed relief that he and his recently healed brother wouldn’t have to go to court. Dieter had simply remained silent behind a cold, emotionless veneer. Then, the Fuhrer took power. Dieter was one of the first to enlist for the Waffen-SS, and one of the first to enter. Erich had told Hans, with great pride, that his brother had been called an “inspirational, perfect Aryan.” Dieter still didn’t show any emotion. Erich never made it into the SS. Instead, he joined the Heer infantry. Hans went his own way, entering college and attaining degrees in history, English, and French. The war broke out four years later. Soon, Germany was standing over the remains of Europe, reigning supreme. Hans had noted that Dieter was several medals heavier, as was Erich. Hans had been drafted around the time of Operation Barbarossa. Much to his surprise, he was in the same theatre with Erich and Dieter, and the same squad as Fritz. A rare occurrence to say the least. There had been some good times getting wasted in the Ukraine with his old friends. That was the last time Hans had seen Erich. Now, he was dead. It really hurt. Hans hadn’t even the time to say a proper goodbye. It wasn't fair! Of the original three, Hans was the last one standing. He never wanted any of this! His two closest friends were gone, and the world didn't even have the decency of taking him with them! God damn the Russians for pulling the triggers that ended the lives of his brothers, and God damn the fuhrer for starting the war! Hans was veritably trembling with a mixture of rage and survivors guilt in equal measure. When he noticed Rainbow Dash staring at him, he forced himself to calm down, clenching his teeth until an audible gnashing noise came out. He looked back at Dieter, the very representation of Nietzsche’s philosophy of “Beyond Good and Evil”. Dieter did not even register his gaze. He was coldly dragging a captured Soviet artillery man towards a shack helpfully marked “Vernehmungszimmer”. He was still clenching his brother’s knife. Rainbow Dash, looking in the same direction Hans was, shuddered. Author's Note Well, a new update. I hope it is to everyone's satisfaction. Also, because I (and google translate) suck a German, from now on, things spoken in German will be written in English like this: "<>"
Cost and DeathAuthor's Note I listened to this while writing this chapter: It seemed fitting. Cost and Death War redefines cost. War ensures that there is a price for everything. Every inch of land is bought with blood. Every life saved is exchanged for another. War is merely expenditure and purchase, the buying and selling of souls. Expend a thousand men, and you may buy yourself a country, or you may buy a city. Sometimes you may only purchase an inch of land. The price is never the same, but remains horrifying. War renders the meaning of life to nothingness. What is life worth when everything is bought with such? Blood itself is rendered a mere currency. The death of one is tragic. The death of a million is a statistic, meaningful in its meaninglessness. Rainbow Dash was only beginning to understand the cost of a war. She had always dreamed of being a hero, of there being conflict. She never considered the consequence. She had always thought that war would be like in the books: there would be fighting, a couple of ponies would be hurt, but the hero would triumph. Evil would be defeated. Everything would be all right in the end. Only now did she realize the naivety of her beliefs. Only now did she begin to understand just what the cost of conflict was. Yet it was not merely costly in terms of blood, was it? No, sanity was another currency continually used to purchase things that have meaning only to those with power. Hans didn’t move. He didn’t blink. He barely breathed. He merely sat, back against the wall of the bombed out building, staring. It was like the stare of one recently departed: empty, vacant, hopeless, dead. There was nothing beyond it, but there was nothing behind it. Rainbow waved her hoof in front of Hans’s face, trying to make him blink. Nothing. He continued to stare vacantly. Rainbow shuddered. He was beginning to creep her out. Ever since that SS officer, Dieter Heinrich had spoken to him, Hans had quickly grown slack faced and impassive. It had been a few hours already. In the distance, there was an intensifying of the sounds of battle. Explosions shook the ground as the staccato burst of machine gunfire echoed through the streets. One shell landed particularly near, sending a massive plume of smoke into the air a block away. Hans didn’t stir. Tears beaded the sides of his eyes. “URA!” Came a scream in the distance, the easily recognizable Soviet battle cry. A brief hint of madness entered Hans’s eyes, which hardened with both viciousness and a certain predatorial beastliness. His eyes spun in his sockets to regard Rainbow Dash for the first time in six hours. His eyes remained vacant, and yet were not. Rainbow took a step back, swallowing slightly at the madness that roiled within Hans’s eyes. He laughed, and Rainbow suddenly became aware of how sharp his canines were. “” he chuckled in his harsh language, “ Rainbow took another step back. Hans’s voice slowly rose, “” “Hans?” Rainbow pleaded with her only ally in all of this madness. “” Hans was almost shouting at this point. “Hans, please, stop,” Rainbow’s voice was fearful. Hans suddenly sprang up, fist driving into a wall. His knuckles bled. “” Now Hans was shouting, tears streaming from his still maddened eyes. Rainbow struck him, her hoof connecting with his stomach. Hans doubled over slightly. Rainbow resisted the urge to run as he straightened up, wheezing slightly. He regarded her for a moment, and she tensed slightly, awaiting a harsh rebuke for her physical contact with him. He reached out and she closed her eyes, afraid. The dreaded response never came. Rather, she felt the human’s hands slowly running through her mane. She looked up, finding that the madness had abandoned his eyes. She almost sighed with relief. He drew his hand back and sat back down, grimacing slightly in pain. He closed his eyes, slowly. “Hans, what’s wrong?” Rainbow asked. Hans eyes opened again, and his face twisted into a bitter smile that was only a hint off from the expression of total insanity that had wracked his features earlier. “All of my friends are dead,” He said simply, quietly. Rainbow’s heart clenched. “But I’m your friend,” she responded. Hans’s head jerked up like he had been slapped. Then relaxed and smiled sadly, looking down at his hand, which oozed precious, crimson life. “I suppose you are, Rainbow Dash. I suppose you are.” *** The next shell was closer to the SS emplacement. The sentries stared down the road they were aiming their weapons at, even as trails of smoke engulfed them, threatened to smother them. Their eyes widened in horror at the scene before them. A veritable wave of men poured towards the German position. Fire was upon their eyes, death was upon their lips. The Germans opened fire. A hundred Soviets fell, and yet the wave continued. Wicked blades affixed to their guns glinted in the half light. “URA! Za Rodinu!” screamed the attacking Soviets, even as they died. Some took rounds through the throat. Others were torn in half by a hail of seven-point-nine-two millimeter rounds. Yet more screamed in agony, slowly dying out as their flesh was torn and mutilated by the merciless and fearful death dealing capabilities of mankind. Some died terrified. Others died defiant. More still died without knowledge that they had. Regardless, they all died, ending their lives in noise, fire and desolation. Fathers, brothers, children, it made no difference. It was the end for them. They ceased to be. Death, mounted upon his black steed reaped another consignment of souls to pay the debt mankind owed to war.
To DieThe soldier was charging, following his comrades. Rifle in hand, he advanced on the enemy, even as they took cover behind a demolished vehicle. As the skirmish began, time seemed to slow. One shot. An enemy soldier slumped back, head caved in from the bullet his comrade had fired. A second shot. His comrade fell to another of the enemy. A grenade exploded, disemboweling one of his group and killing several others with shrapnel. More shots, more deaths. Blood spurted into the air in pseudo-artistic form, while gore stained the ground and crimson vitae flowed from wounds. The soldier raised his rifle to his shoulder, yelling as he fired. His shot ricocheted. Another shot sounded. There was a sensation like a punch in his abdomen. He was hit, he realized as he went down. He fell onto his side, the shock taking away from the pain for some time. He merely grunted from the impact. But the pain soon bled back. He briefly noticed that all his comrades were dead, bleeding from gaping wounds. Now, the soldier was dying. Crimson blood stained his uniform as blood poured from the wound in his stomach. He grimaced in pain, with the knowledge that his life would soon end playing upon his mind. His vision was blurred, his hearing muffled. He was aware of fellow humans standing over him. But who, friend or foe. He was going to die. Did it matter? He struggled to sit up from his position on his side. To no avail. The bullet had torn through the soldier’s stomach, rupturing it. Even now, hydrochloric acid was spewing through his insides, burning, eating away at the vulnerable flesh that made up the remarkable biological structure that was the human body. The agony was almost unbearable, like being seared with the hottest fire. The hot piece of lead still lodged in his body did not help. Blood oozed from his mouth. The soldier wanted to cry, to weep at the thought of his own demise. He was only eighteen, barely a man, and now his life was ending. It was unjust, nightmarish, to know that he would not see his family again. Tears wouldn’t come. He had shed too many already, endured too much in the months of war he had witnessed. He had already lost a great many friends in the hell that was Stalingrad, and he supposed that after he passed on, many more of his friends would die. He coughed. Was there life beyond the veil? Was there hope for him? Would he perhaps see his friends, and eventually, his family in whatever place lay behind death? Or would there be simple oblivion, nothingness, ceasing to exist? Once afraid, the soldier couldn’t find the energy to be terrified of his own death. As his heart slowed from blood loss, the soldier began to feel cold, drained. A mother’s love never to be felt again, a father’s steadfastness never to derive strength from, a sister’s smile, never to be delighted in again, a hope for the future cruelly extinguished in the harsh storm that was war. Death took everything from the soldier. Everything about him would soon be extinguished. Breathing was becoming progressively more difficult, as stomach acids began to chew through his lungs. The pain was becoming nearly unbearable. While the thought of his own demise did not force tears to his eyes, the pain did. Grey figures stood before him. He looked up, grimacing in agony. He reached up with his hand, grasping at the figures. Whether or not it was in anger, defiance towards the injustice of those who had pulled the trigger that ended him, or if it was pleading with them to save his life, to treat his wounds, not even the soldier could tell. His mind was blurred. Everything was fuzzy as the blood left him and his body gradually became starved of oxygen. One enemy, eyes filled with emptiness of one fulfilling a job not desired, leveled his submachine gun at the soldier’s head. His enemy’s comrade batted the weapon away. The soldier stared on, barely comprehending. The second addressed the first in his harsh language, the language of the fascists. “” The second exclaimed. The soldier winced. “” The first replied harshly. The second hesitated, then nodded, brown eyes radiating sadness and regret. The soldier seemed distant in his own mind, watching from a afar, even as the gun barrel once again turned towards him. A single tear trickled down his face. He stared into the eyes of the one who would be his final end. His enemy sighed imperceptibly and twitched his finger. There was a single flash, and the soldier was no more. Author's Note This idea struck me recently, and I didn't want to make it into a oneshot. Consequently, it is a chapter in this story. I apologize for the lack of length.
