Diary From The Carrot Union

[NON-CANON] Extra: God and War

(This is an alternate and considerably darker path this story was originally planned which is no longer canon. I won't delete it, since this chapter defines the author's original, albeit cynical, hopeless, and grimdark tone this story was supposed to go)

(Reminder: None of this chapter is canon)

[Trigger Warning: Explicit show of violence and politically-incorrect rhetorics]

"Big Mew prays, Big Mew chosen..."

The dawn was silent as a tomb, as I stretched my paws and felt the warmth of Big Mew's pelt, and damn doesn't it feel like the best fur mattress that lord Yeezus has created.

The wolves don't care about what we worship or masturbate to, so I have taken the liberty of spreading the word of Yeezus among the young kits, for lord Yeezus always said to love everyone equally, or get sent into hot gulag.

And Big Mew has shown lots of progress today, for even him has given up his can of sardines for the great mouse, Peter Erectus, the true messia- I mean, the humble and honest and true and genuine and disciple of Yeezus, whose erection is the largest, and whose cheese is the most timeless.

But still I miss Mr Leon for some reason, for I always think he had the most potential to become a true believer with a simple push of a button inside his head.

And nothing cheered us more than a breakfast of fresh salad with a thousand year's sauce and the egg of the chimkin! Macedonia has recently bathed on the river, coming with his fur fluffy dry. Big Mew was of course dumping the entire tuna dressing on his mouth, and Cinnabun was eating the salad without any dressing cause she wants to die with a t.
"Had a good night's sleep, Joseph?" Macedonia asked.

My floppy ears pinned up like a wet noodle, "Oh yes, of course Macedonia! Everything's A-Ok for now!"

"Good." He soothed, biting a piece of his orange-stick, "I can't sleep though, the wolves have been restless since dawn. I have a feeling that there's something amiss."

"Have they run out of processed cow-juice, Macedonia?" I asked curious, cause I'd reckon the wolves would stay up all night howling for the lack of cow-juice, but it was not long until we found the answers.

For Joanne, Mr Guava's second-in-command has returned from the hills with a bloody body bag, and boy did everybody panic upon discovering who that was.

Guava's throat is ripped wide open like a pizdec, and everybody could see the bone sticking out from the piece of his snout that went missing - and by missing I meant horribly brutalized by some bloodthirst beast.

"We're gonna die!" squeaked a smol little rabbit amidst the crowd, "The revolution is ruined!"

The terror quickly spreads amongst the entire crowd of animals, for we are always told that Guava was our savior, but here he was, mauled by some kind of wild animal.

"Settle down, everyone!" Joanne, the small grey wolf commanded, and yet she simply had neither Guava's dominant charisma nor the competency to understand wolf to rabeet Public relations, so she simply did what a tin-pot dictator would do and shot several rounds to the sky, silencing the entire crowd in an instance.

"YEEZUS SAVE US!"

"What are you doing!"
"Okay people!" Joanna said, haplessly attempting to control the situation, "I know what you're all thinking but..."

But that isn't the worst of today, for from the distant horizon we heard a loud droning noise, and soon we heard the distant roar of a Tupolev, as well as the rumbling on the bushes.

And that is when we heard that loud whistling sound from the horizon, which gots closer, and closer, before it exploded in a single thump and crashed. The scene exploded into a fireball as I saw burning fur left and right, followed by the screams of the fellow rabbits and the writhed cries of burning wolves

From the northside I saw giant T-90 tanks and legions of Carrot Army soldiers firing upon our entrenched position - boolets floating about and rocket propelled grenades zipped through and burst in flame

And my instincts immediately pushed me to flee with my tail tucked between my legs.

I have no whereabouts to what, where, and why this tragedy is happening to me, nor where the others where. From what I know everyone is just straight up dead or worse, captured and sent straight to gulag, so I laid low beneath the green bushes and dug up myself a small rabbit hole as the foot soldiers passed.

But then I saw it...I saw them...

****

I'm from the village south of the capital, and I've known them since I was a little kit.

I was three months old when they unfurled the carrot and hoof on the capital.

I was five months old when the soldiers looted everything we had.

My parents died from the Carrot Union's first five year plan, where the cats told us to make steel in our backyards and only feed us when we reach the monthly quota.

My brother got killed by the CGB for writing a book the state doesn't like.

My sister got sent to a labour camp for having black fur.

My little brother was five months old when I saw him starve to death, because we have nothing else to eat but dried grass.

We band together because we want a better life, that's all. I know it may be crooked and that we're fighting for blind idealism, but that was the only thing keeping me from ending it all.

So that is why we're doing this, because I've seen too many people lost - I...I just don't know what else to do, because us young folk never learn. I mean what's romantic about an ideology that killed millions? What is romantic about seeing your own baby brother die of hunger? What is romantic about killing millions?

But then I met Lord Yeezus, and I was told that everything was according to his divine plan, for he loved us as his own children, and that he shall never let us astray.

And then I saw my own comrades whom I grew up with crawling on the dirt around, drenched and set ablaze by molotov cocktails and shot down by the soldiers that swore to protect them. It was a hapless resistance as mortar rained down the skies and viscera littered the ground, as I saw one of them captured, begging for mercy and shot down - again and again until the ringing on my ear made my head numb.

Their skulls cracked open as the tank threads crushed them.

And I also saw Macedonia, who was always that lovable uncle...Shot on the base of his neck.

But then I saw Cinnabon, the village sweetheart I knew since I was a little kit, down on the ground as the soldiers pinned her down before putting a bullet into her skull.

And I heard her screams....

And I heard their laughter...

For they took pleasure upon her suffering...For they took pleasure as the harbingers of death, for the revolution has sanctioned this spillage of blood.

For everything is according to God's plan, and there is no exception.

My heart is crushed...

And I don't know what else to do.

They set her body on fire and cheered

And it was not long until they found me and took me away.

Goodbye...

END