The Regime

The sky suddenly began to change, it turned dark and slowly it began to rain, not only was he pissed off at everything but now he had to deal with being soaked in rain. The streets were strangely empty and quiet, it seemed the Amarosians didn’t much care for the rain and all took shelter, he didn’t quite understand why. He decided not to trouble his already troubled brain about it and continued down one of the main streets, he stepped off the curb and stumbled from the drop. The water was deep; it completely covered his feet and went up a portion of his shin, now it made sense. It didn’t rain often on Heilagur but when it did, it came hard and it came for a long time. He splashed down the street trying to recollect where the nearest place to sleep was, he didn’t know if the Amarosians had hotels but it couldn’t hurt to try and find one for he needed to rest. Greg trudged through the growing levels of the water in the street until something caught his eye and he stopped; something was standing in the middle of the street about a hundred yards ahead of him. He wiped the water from his face trying to get a better glimpse of what it was, the figure didn’t move so he called out to it. He yelled friendly greetings to it at first and then began to curse at it for not responding thinking it didn’t understand, so he took a few more steps towards it. The figure shifted; its arm went behind its back as if reaching for something, Greg waited to see what it was and felt a shiver go down his spine as the figure pulled out what looked to be a sword of some kind. It must have been a long dagger, it was too short for a sword but it was jagged, with large curved hooks all along the blade. All in an instant the figure’s head lit up bright almost as if it was activating or turning on, its helmet was a large red dome, covering most of its face and jaw with regular black armor covering the back. The colour was similar to the Nazi infantry he saw on Nuevo Mundo and Nassau so he looked at the figure’s left arm to see the same swastika badge the Chancellor had and his face immediately went white as he realized that he was in for a wild fight. Greg then remembered that he was a soldier, an Imperium soldier he couldn’t let this kraut bastard take him down and so he threw off his coat and began running through the rain down the street. The figure responded almost instantaneously as if expecting it and began running towards Greg. He was a lot faster; as he ploughed through the water the rain turning to dust as it pegged his armor. Greg used his adrenaline to run faster thinking of a way to outsmart the Nazi; he thought too slow however as the Nazi leapt into the air like a frog and extended both of his legs railing Greg in the chest. The drop kick was the hardest impact Greg had ever felt as his momentum from running so hard completely reversed sending him another ten feet backwards on his back, as he splashed into the deep frigid water the Nazi sprung to his feet and charged a second time this time with his blade ready. He went for a slash before Greg got to a crouch position, weaved under the swing and countered with a knee to his stomach, halting the Nazi’s charge although not doing any damage, but enough to force him to drop the dagger. The Nazi was getting angry; he stood up straight and grabbed Greg by the neck. Greg was getting worried at this point. The Nazi was nearly a foot taller than him which was inhumanly large. He could feel the metal fingers squeezing around his neck tighter and tighter; he began to flutter before using the last of his strength to swing his leg back and ram his metal combat boot straight into the Nazi’s crotch. The Nazi immediately groaned in pain as he dropped Greg who splashed into the flooded street once again, coughing as he stood up. He took a swing at the Nazi’s face, bashing the solid red visor with all his strength. His fist however bounced off like rubber and his hand cracked with from the recoil. Greg swore to himself as he threw a few more punches in a flurry of adrenaline and anger. The Nazi responded with a few blocks and quick strikes to Greg, who did his best to dodge and block some of his own. He wasn’t making any progress; he needed to end this and soon. Greg was getting tired; he was in pain and was cold from the frigid rain. He threw a few more punches before trying to go for another cheap shot of some kind. He ducked and swooped under the Nazi then launched himself into his stomach like a rocket, throwing the Nazi back and pinned him into the water. He began to punch the visor again, ignoring the pain completely as he continued to smash and throw in the occasional elbow. The Nazi’s visor cracked and began to splinter and finally he had enough of this. The Nazi raised his left arm as he made a jerking motion with his wrist, and out of the armor of his arm extended a blade. It swished out making a quick sharp noise as he backhanded Greg slashing him across the face. Greg fell off the Nazi screaming in pain, feeling the blood pour out of his face and trickling away with the dabbing of the rain. As he fell the Nazi stood up and tried to fix his visor, and, as he did, Greg placed his hand under the water and felt something sharp, it was the Nazi’s first dagger, and it had forgotten that it was dropped. Greg lay there motionless, his lips barely protruding out of the water to breathe. He relaxed his body and began to float calmly almost as if he was a corpse. Greg was a little puzzled; the Nazi wasn’t finishing him off. He wondered why; perhaps the Nazi thought he was dead. So the arrogance of the Nazi would be his downfall, thought Greg. He got to another crouching position right in front of the proudly standing German enemy, he cocked his leg back and used all the force he could muster and thrust it forward directly into the German’s right leg. The Nazi gasped in pain as Greg’s leg crashed into his knee, breaking it and pushing it into a reverse position, he could hear the bones in his leg snapping and cracking as his leg was shattered and the angle of his knee bent backwards. He fell down screaming under his visor, blood was flowing into the water in the street quickly expanding into multiple red streams and trails. His leg was so badly mangled and bloody that his armor had torn and his shin bone was protruding from his skin getting numb from the cold rain. As he screamed and squirmed Greg drew the blade from the water and plunged it into the Nazi’s throat, he covered his eyes from the spraying of blood as the arteries began to splice and break, the Nazi then fell silent aside from the drops of rain and the squirting of blood from his throat. He let go of his leg and sank into the water, he was dead. Greg had emerged victorious but not without paying a price of his own, for he was still bleeding profusely from his face wound. He stayed near the body to keep it safe, they needed to study the body, he had never seen this kind of Nazi enemy yet, and he needed to know everything he could about them