Dirty reality made by gloved hands

XIV

The soil collapsed under heavy tanks. The air froze and contaminated by the toxic gases the flight squadron emitted as they passed the border. German soldiers were spreading and invading the sacred land of the soviets like plague carrying the scent of death to each corner of every house, their shallow breath sends cold shivers down your spine as if the reaper would silently scream to your ear 'death is awaiting you'. Eyes filled with a maniac glow, thirsty for blood, they want blood. The blood of the subhuman race. The blood of those who had humiliated them. The blood of those who had mutilated their pride, who had destroyed their former glory.

No one is safe.

Immobilised, all the Soviet council could do was to watch as their land was set on fire and brought to hell, as their citizens were either killed or captured by the German soldiers. Reich left Soviet lying on the floor and hurried back to Berlin. The country representative was completely paralysed* by the drugs for several hours, incapable of moving. All he could do was force air into his lungs, feel the expansion of his veins as blood were pushed through them and the agitatingly slow regeneration of the burnt flesh.

He did not lose his consciousness, not for a single minute, adrenalin from shock was keeping him awake if he liked it or not.

Blood kept oozing out of his right eye. The smell of burnt flesh and coppery blood stung his nose. There was no hope of saving the organ. The optical nerves were completely fried out, all he could see was pitless, merciless gaping darkness that absorbs your soul like it is the only thing it has been ever made for, smiling like thousands of devils in the pits of hell whose screams melt your brain to let it flow out of your ears thus feed their children with all the evils that the earth has ever had to bear to withstand.

His whole body was in pain. He felt everything. He felt his citizens dying, he felt how their houses had been bombed, destroyed, set aflame. He felt the hundreds of thousands of heavy military boots marching deeper and deeper into his land.

For the longest time he could not come to his emotions, he was numb. It's like when the mind isn't capable of fully understanding what has happened. It doesn't want to believe it. It rejects every possibility. After about 3 hours of the attack there was no news of the embodiment's whereabouts, so people were sent on search for him.

The soldiers who found Soviet lying on the floor a puddle of blood around him were completely aghast. They quickly helped the council up to his feet and moved him out to take him to a doctor.

And Soviet still felt numb.

***

Reich was walking down the corridor of the Reichstag, a couple of papers in his hands a an expression on his face that mirrored complete indifference. Calm and cold. From the outside he looked like the most confident and strongly confirmed person ever seen since the fall of the German Empire.

With long strides he approached his office. He grabbed the door handle, opened the heavy wood door and stepped into the spacious office. As the door closed behind him with a bang the nerves in his mind also seemed to click.

Like an electric shock the German awakened from his previous trance. He blinked and looked around much confused. When..? How did he get here? He shook his head trying to forget about it instead and with a heavy sigh he headed to his desk. He plopped down the chair and thew the papers onto the desk.

It was not the first time that the Reich found himself in places where he did not remember going to. There has been times when he went to sleep and woke up in the middle of a meeting dumbfounded on what was happening. Lately he also begin to feel more tired than ordinary. Embodiments usually don't need as much sleep as humans do, maybe just 2-3 times a week but the German often felt like he could fall over from exhaustion at any moment.

He stretched his back and lightly slapped his face in order to drive the tiredness away. His desk was a disaster, papers scattered away, fountain pens leaving ink spots at some of the documents, the telephone's receiver was hanging down beside the table and a bottle of pills laid around spilled. All in all it seemed like a hurricane came over the desk and its surroundings.

Reich just looked over it, he couldn't be bothered as he didn't have the energy nor the mood to clean up his mess which he didn't actually remember doing. But why did he think the he did this? Normally if a person founds his office completely dishevelled he would automatically think that someone by force broke into the room searching for valuable items, or maybe a spy looking for important documents to over throw the Reich. However, the German just as any other embodiments had absolute control over the place. The office is a part of him that is the most sensitive, so even the slightest change could cause disturbance in the cognitive consciousness.

For all the matter Reich should be concerned by the fact that he is dealing with memory loss lately. Destroyed office, officers acting strangely, fulfilling orders he did not remember saying and unfamiliar operation plans signed by himself. He no longer remembered when was the last time he ate, when he slept, when he had a shower.

His mind was slowly slipping away and he couldn't care less. It's not like it didn't concern him, but the sedatives were making everything much easier. He noticed that he started taking more and more pills daily. But the Reich couldn't help himself everything seemed irritate him and he found no other way to sooth his nerves, otherwise he might start lashing out on his officers, he was already yelling too much. He was just tired and sick of everything.

He reluctantly looked at the papers he drew on the table thinking it's just some data report of resources, but when he saw what was on it he stopped breathing. His eyes widened and his lips started trembling. What? No.. This can't be real. It can't be real.

'Reports on operation Barbarossa: three directional attack against USSR's most influential cities Leningrad, Moscow and Stalingrad...Communicational paralysation...pre-attacks aided by the Luftwaffe...'

The paper shook in his hands as his eyes darted along the lines.

How could this happen? Who allowed this?

*The Soviet authorities were verbatim paralysed for hours at the time of the attack, because the germans enabled every communicational devices and there was no way to alert the defence lines for an upcoming attack on the union and call for reinforcement.