It was a sunny morning, somewhere in Germany. Though, no one who mattered at that particular moment was enjoying the sun. No, everyone worth their salt in this somewhere was very very busy, hard at work. The closest anyone got to natural light was about two feet, but they were separated from said light by a wall of solid lead, sandwiched between sheets of reinforced steel. The steel was not actually necessary for protection from outside assault, but rather for the health of the scientists and officers in the compound, protecting them from the lead. Johaan Deichtrin walked around his office, dragging a hand along said reinforced steel, marveling at how safe it was to be in that compound, and how close to death everyone was at the same time. On slip, one wayward spark, one misinterpreted command, and boom. All of them would die. Those who were close to the center would go first, being burned to death in the midst of an explosion, and the rest would either die from the immediate over-pressure, or suffer horrendous burns and radiation poisoning. The guards outside would probably survive, but they would die of hunger and thirst long before anyone would come to their aid, and if they tried to get help they'd be shot by the SS eventually.
Funny how that works, he thought. We put ourselves on the line and they work us to death, but should we fail they'd eradicate us to be able to deny the existence of Die Glocke. How.....curious. He walked out of his office, wanting to escape the austere gray and silence, and headed over to the lounge. It was the most comfortable place in the compound, and the scientists usually slept on the couches, preferring them to their own beds. Johaan sat down on a nice chair to think. He recalled the guards outside, walking around with MP40's, the machine gun nests everywhere, every soldier armed to the teeth with weapons and explosives. The average guard here carries, what, 4, 5 grenades? And then you also have the ammunition. He decided he'd take a rest, as he had been up all night reviewing paperwork and signing documents. He had just closed his eyes for but a moment when he heard one of the most glorious sounds of all.
"Sir, we've found something."
"Look, when is this gonna happen? They were supposed to be here half an hour ago, sir!" said Sgt. Timothy Fruit. "I mean, I'm willing to wait, but I just hate the idea of procrastinating when it comes to correcting the Wehrmacht's whole 'alive' issue," he said, grinning.
"Be patient, you'll get your chance to see some fireworks, Tim, I promise." Colonel Nickolas Jonesig had a full bird, a sharp eye, and a keen sense of combat. He had been in many battles, and fought the Germans in World War I. He was a young one then, only twenty, and he had given up on a lot of men in favor of keeping his own hands clean. This was not the case in the second World War. As a Veteran who had seen his men and younger sibling killed by the Germans, he had no more sympathy for them, or anyone who decided to take his men's lives. "The intel's solid, the German's are just late."
"If you say so, sir." Tim got up and excused himself to the head.
"Hurry up, you don't wanna be in the crapper when it happens!" Jonesig shouted to his second-in-command.
"Yeah yeah, I know." Col. Jonesig looked back out into the fields and rolling hills of Germany, waiting for his prey. They knew a German garrison would be coming their way to aid their front line brothers take a nearby airfield. In response, the US covertly added heavy machine guns, AA guns, and a full garrison of troops to the hillside to catch the 200 man supplement off guard. Their plan was to let the .50cal take the majority of them out after detonating explosives under their trucks. The remaining would be taken out by sniper fire and grenades. Any stragglers would either become POW's if they surrendered, or die fighting. It was a great plan, thought up by the Colonel himself. He got what he wanted, as he had a friend higher up. Normally, a Colonel wouldn't get this kind of operation to himself, but knowing people in the Chain of Command helps a lot when one is trying to get things done. Jonesig put down his binoculars, rubbing his eyes out. Tim was back.
"I am assuming from the lack of music that we haven't seen any Germans yet, have we?" His superior just shook his head. "Eh, bitter sweet. I want this crap to be over with already!" Tim was an impatient man to begin with, but the lure of battle was sometimes too much for the soldier. The Colonel resumed his lookout. There.
"I see 'em," he said, handing the binoculars to Tim. He grabbed the binoculars greedily.
"Yep, there they go." He gave the binoculars back to the Colonel and turned to his radio operator. "Smith, give the word."
"Yes, sir!" he said, grinning. He grabbed the radio and turned it on, tuning it to the frequency with which he would reach the 5 platoons stationed around the road that the trucks were now on. "Platoons Alpha, Charlie, and Echo, this is Base, do you copy?" Three "copy"'s came over the radio in perfect sequential order. "You are given permission to fire your charges at will." Another three "copy"'s. Private Smith got up from his seat and walked over to the wide window with his superiors to watch the fireworks. All at once three packs of three satchel charges - 90 lbs of TNT - erupted at once around and underneath most of the convoy. The survivors attempted to leave their now-burning vehicles, but were unable to escape the merciless combing of the .50 caliber machine gun fire now raining upon them. After peppering all of the vehicles, the machine gun stopped firing, signaling the strike teams to check for survivors. All five platoons emerged out of their cover and slowly approached the wreckage, ready to shoot any who were hostile. Well I'll be damned, thought Jonesig, Not a single one of'em lived! How about that.
"Holy SHIT! THAT WAS AWESOME!" Tim was beside himself with glee at the destruction. Jonesig couldn't help but chuckle, despite himself. He felt the same way as Tim, but his Military professionalism told him to keep it level-headed, mostly for the sake of his troops. Truth be told, they both had the same gun-lust and appreciation of explosives, the only difference was that Tim wasn't afraid to show it. "AW MAN THEY GOT IT GOOD!" There was cheering from whatever personnel were in the bunker with them; they could hear the shouts and laughter from the .50cal crew and others who had come to their respective windows and doors to watch the firefight. Although, really, there was no fighting per se. Midst all the cheering, the Colonel looked back out to the road and counted the destroyed vehicles. One, two, three, four, five. Wait, how could they fit two hundred men on five trucks? He pondered this, leading to him becoming silent, while everyone else was still talking and laughing. Because of this, he was able to pick up on something odd. It sounds like....buzzing. BUZZING!? He ran to the window, and eyed the skies intently. He turned, not wanting to risk anything.
"SMITH, GET ON THE RADIO AND ORDER THOSE MEN BACK HERE. EVERYONE TO YOUR WEAPONS, I WANT SOMEONE ON THE ANTI-AIR NOW!" They all scrambled around, trying to meet their superiors orders. Tim approached his commander with a confused look.
"What happened, what's the cause of all thi-" BOOM! The air exploded in a huge cloud of debris and smoke.
Pinkie Pie was sound asleep when it happened. She was dreaming of having a Gummy bear. That is to say, a gummy bear that was shaped like her pet alligator, Gummy, when she immediately started shaking, almost convulsing, so hard that she fell off of her bed and onto the floor. She landed with a gasp of air escaping her mouth. She stood up, shaking off the impact, and looked at her clock. It told her that she had to be up in five minutes. With that, she hopped back into bed, determined to eat her Gummy. She had just settled into her bed when her eyes shot open and she sat bolt upright.
"My Pinkie Sense!"
LATER
"Not now, Pinkie, I need to get this dress done before noon! Come back after then and we can talk." Pinkie's face fell and her hair deflated slightly as her friend blew her off.
"OK," she said, turning and walking out of the boutique. She thought for a moment, then immediately perked up. "TWILIGHT WILL LISTEN!" Using her Pinkie Physics, she levitated into the air and zipped over to the library. She arrived after a few seconds and began pounding on the door furiously. Spike answered it, and Pinkie promptly darted inside without being invited.
"TWILIGHT! I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING IMPORTANT!" Twilight looked up from her book, closing it and marking the page. She stood up, but not before being bombarded by Pinkie.
"Sure, what can I- AGH!" Pinkie was right in her face.
"OK, so I was just sleeping and I was dreaming about eating a gigantanormous Gummy bear, but it wasn't a gummy bear, it was a GUMMY bear, shaped like Gummy, my alligator, and he was red, cherry flavored, actually, it may have been strawberry, I didn't get a chance to taste it before my Pin-"
"Pinkie Pie STOP!" Pinkie got cut off mid-sentence. "Look, I appreciate that you like talking to me, but I'm busy right now. Go talk to Fluttershy, I think she's off today. But come back later when I'm not so busy, OK?" Pinkie was crestfallen, her hair now noticeably deflated.
"B-but, I-"
"No buts, I have work to do. Please show yourself out." Pinkie hung her head and showed herself out. Twilight shut the door behind her and she walked into Ponyville, head fallen, eyes full of worry. Why won't anypony LISTEN to me!? I have important news, something REALLY bad is going to happen, but nopony will listen! What do I do!? She then directed herself to Sugarcube Corner to drown her worry in cupcakes and sugar.
A/N
Hey guys I started this awhile back but it got deleted and now I finally got the balls to just start retyping the thousands of words I had typed previously, only this time it's slightly different. I realize that there's not a lot of pony yet, deal with it. That part is coming.
Diechtrin walked through the corridors of Der Riese, the top-secret Nazi scientific Facility, with a brisque pace, intent on investigating this discovery. He was gleeful at the prospect of making progress when he had been in command for less than a month. His predecessor, a Lt. Colonel, had gone mad. The exact cause had yet to be determined, but he was not the only one. Many scientists and soldiers had gone insane; these were usually the ones who had had most contact or spent too much time around Die Glocke when it was active. These mistakes were soon rectified however to minimize potential risk. The more men they lost, the more money they required to train and place them in the facility.
Diechtrin arrived at the facility's laboratory entrance. He pressed the comm button to get himself inside.
"Colonel Johaan Diechtrin, universal serial number 9-1-9-1-9-9-4." The door promptly slid open, and the Colonel walked inside. He approached the control panel where his lead scientist, Dr. Heinrich der Shück, was seated, excitedly tapped at the controls. He looked up when his superior entered the room, and gave him a gleeful smile. He stood up and approached his Colonel, throwing formality the wind.
"Johaan, great news! We've isolated a mathematical algorithm which has led us to a special frequency that we believe will allow extended power usage while at the same time letting us-"
"In German, please." Heinrich was annoyed at his friend and superior, but complied anyway.
"We may have found the frequency that will allow us to open the gate for extended periods of time, while at the same time using greater power to make the portal more potent, should it indeed work." Diechtrin showed a rare smile.
"Good. Power it up and let us see what it will do."
"Yes, sir!" Heinrich walked over to the control panel and began tapping at the controls. He donned his goggles, Diechtrin doing the same, and prepared to activate Die Glocke. Diechtrin approached the ultra-dense superglass window and marveled at the Nazi's greatest creation: Die Glocke. It was at least 7 feet tall, it had bell-shaped shell with gauges all over it, electrical wires an inch thick going in and out near the bottom and into the floor. The chamber it was in was about ten feet high, and fifteen feet across in diameter. It was lined with rubber mats all over the floor and ceiling, except for the lead door to the left of the window, the only entrance. The lights on Die Glocke lit up, and there was a slight vibration echoing throughout the compound. Were someone whistling, talking, or even shuffling papers they would not hear it. Just before Heinrich had turned it on, the door had opened, and a destitute-looking man was thrust in. He was a Jew from the nearest concentration camp, some hundred miles away. About half of them were shipped here for the purpose of testing and cleaning the room in which Die Glocke was held. The poor man banged and scratched on the door, begging to be let out. His cries, however, went unheeded. Within thirty seconds, Die Glocke had finished warming up, and began whirring even louder. Every person who was inside Der Riese and near the laboratory would be able to clearly hear the active machine. A small glow began to emerge from the top of it, bathing the room in ultraviolet, and visible, light. The man in the room was quickly blinded, and consequently stumbled in the chamber, finding his way to Die Glocke, and mistakenly using it for support. He screamed in agony, and pull his hands away. He could not see them, but Diechtrin could. They were putrefied, as though someone had performed a hand transplantation, and the donor had died many years earlier. Slowly the mans entire body began to putrefy, his skin turning purplish-gray and sliding off his skin like a viscous soup. He fell to the ground after a minute of this torture, dead, decomposing.
Heinrich slowly pushed the handle controlling the voltage upward, even after the man died. After a minute of careful pushing and observation, he reached 90%. Die Glocke would require a surge of energy before the reaction would be attained, and so Heinrich paused at 90%, observing the effects, then quickly amped it up to 100% voltage. The glow became a shine, almost too bright to look at. The top began to emit electrical energy which arced to the exposed door, making several sustained connections which caused the door to grow white hot in a matter of moments. With a sudden intensity, the light brightened then faded as a tear breached the lead door. Diechtrin looked on in awe, staring at the lead door, which now had what looked like a rough tear in it. However, on the other side of the tear, he saw not concrete, nor metal, nor screaming guard. What he saw was a forest. Heinrich saw it too, and began shouting in joy. The Colonel began laughing, his scientist friend laughing with him. Their laughter was interrupted by a siren and flashing red lights. Heinrich looked at his controls, and quickly manipulated them. Instantly, the arcs and the portal disappeared, and Die Glocke began to slow it's whirring. Diechtrin was rather surprised.
"Heinrich, why did you stop, what happened?"
"Sir, the temperature was melting the lead, and the radiation was just starting to pour through. Nothing dangerous, very tiny amounts. If we want to do this, we'll need a stronger material. Apparently it latches to anything that will conduct. Lead however has too low of a melting point to sustain the portal."
"I see, and would it be possible to enter this chamber without, well..." He gestured to the pile of now-black goop puddling in the room.
"I think so, but it would be dangerous. We must test it first."
"Of course. Have the rats come in and clean the chamber, take a break, and we shall continue the experiments later. You have done well, Heinrich, the Führer will be pleased."
"I live only to please him. HEIL HITLER!" He flashed a crisp salute to the officer.
"Heil Hitler!" he responded. The concluded their salutes, and Diechtrin left for his quarters to file the report. Heinrich gave the order, and the guard outside the room for Die Glocke opened the door. Five Jews came in, one with a ladder, and they began to tear down the mats to take them to the incinerator. After removing the mats, they then scrubbed everything down with a lime solution before placing new mats over everything. Despite their pleas, the guard made them all clean the black mess that was once one of them.
It was surreal. There was only ringing, everything was blurred. He could feel a weight on his leg. He kicked off the debris, and got up, coughing at the sudden intake of dust. He looked around at his command room, destroyed and in pieces. Smith was dead, underneath half a ton or more of rock. Tim was lying on the ground next to a wall, a bit of blood coming from his head. Jonesig ran over and knelt next to his friend, checking his vitals. Two more rounds struck the areas in front of the hillside bunker, taking out most of their infantry. Tim was alive, just unconscious. The colonel left the bunker, getting up on top. He looked at the horizon, and he could see the German fighters closing in on their position. He looked over to where the AA gun was. Keyword: was.
"DAMMIT!" He ran back into the command room. The radio was knocked over, but didn't seem to have sustained any significant damage. He picked it up and began barking into it. "HELLO!? Foxtrot Uniform Bravo, this is base Alpha Romeo, we have been hit, do you copy?" He listened intently for several seconds. To his relief, a cool voice responded to him.
"Alpha Romeo, this is Foxtrot Uniform Bravo, we copy. What do you need?" The Colonel looked outside, and saw the fighters picking off his men dutifully, maybe ten of them. Some were flying overhead, undoubtedly getting ready to attack anyone who tried to leave the base. "We got enemy birds taking our our men and no Alpha Alpha to defend ourselves with! We need air support and medical transport NOW! Copy?"
"Copy, we are mobilizing now. ETA two minutes." Two minutes. I hope we last that long... Seeing as there was nothing else he could do, the Colonel picked up the tags from Smith's exposed upper torso, pocketed them, and then moved Tim to a safer area. During that time, he looked out again. His men were now locked into a firefight with an outrageous number of German troops. Sucking up the inevitable death he was about to face, he exited the command room and went up the steps, took the immediate right, and manned the still-functional M2 machine gun, He chambered a round, and took his aim at the thickest bunch he could find. He said a short prayer, then opened fire.
Pinkie opened the door and trudged into her favorite bakery ever. She was still really stressed, not knowing what was going to happen, and then nopony would listen to her. She went up to the counter, took a seat on the stool, sighing in her confusion.
"Barkeep, I need an ultra-fudge float, stat. Double the whipped cream," she said, putting five bits on the counter. Mr. Cake approached her with her order.
"Pinkie, you work here, and you know me."
"Yeah, you're right Larry, but formalities just don't cut it right now."
"My first name's Carrot."
"Does it really matter? Nothing really matter's when your friends never listen." She immediately gulped down the entire mug in one swig, slammed it down, wiped her mouth off and ordered another.
"What's got you down, Pinkie?" She sighed.
"Well, I really need somepony to listen to me right now, but no one will. I have a bad feeling that something BIG is coming, but every time I try to tell somepony, they're busy, and I-" she looked up and realized that Mr. Cake had gone off to the register to help a customer. She sighed deeply, hair deflating, and gulped down the rest of her drink before walking out the door into Ponyville.
A/N
I'd like to take a moment to let you all know that I am basing this off of actual events and places and experiments. There WAS a Die Glocke which WAS in a compound known as Der Riese, it DID cause putrefaction, not to the degree which I described, but it did leave animals and plants as goop. They also DID use Jews as the maids for Die Glocke. With that said, you can decide for yourselves what parts actually happened, or if you're curious, just Google it.
