I was still drifting through the dark as I slowly heard a muffled sound. Then all of a sudden, light — and I could see again. The muffled sound turned out to be Heinrich, who now seemed to look normal again. He was standing before me, tugging at my shoulder, and said, "Sir, hello sir, are you alright?"
I was still confused about where I was and what had just happened, but I stuttered a "Yes, yes, I'm here… what happened?" Relief washed over Heinrich's face, and he took a step back and explained, "Well, I was reading the tome and was confused that you didn't say anything, so I looked up and saw you slumped over with milky eyes. I thought you had a stroke, so I tried to wake you, and it seemingly worked."
"Listen to me, this is not good," I replied and stood up. "Someone is entering my mind, and he is powerful. I also made a mistake." I thought back to the dark tome from which I wrote this dark message. I stepped in front of the door to my floor; Heinrich's gaze followed me. "But it doesn't matter at the moment. We have to sleep. Tomorrow we are visiting Votan GmbH. You can sleep beside my bed — I have a spare mattress. Those cultists now know who you are. Better don't be alone. It could be dangerous. I don't know which Schutzgeist they are serving, but it is a powerful one. They seem to have the ability to use illusions at their will, so be careful and don't trust anything you see."
Heinrich stood up and walked before me. He had a smirk on his face and his eyes glimmered with confidence. He said, "You can count on me, sir. I will act smartly, but—" He then continued, his face shifting to a more ashamed look, "Before we drive to Votan GmbH, can we make a stop at my home? My spare pair of glasses is there, and I need new clothes since these are wrecked from the attack."
I smiled, and we both went to bed.
The next day we woke up early. I tried fixing what I could in my home and (with a bit of novice magic) my house looked superb again. Then we got in the car and drove to the industrial district of Cologne. On our way, I noticed people everywhere in Cologne standing at the edges of the street holding up signs saying "Searching for jobs, doing anything." This made me sad. It was not long ago that the stock market crashed. The unemployed and homeless population in the whole world was massive, and a month ago our government stepped back. We are controlled by just one person now. Great — what could go wrong if one person has too much power, I thought to myself ironically.
Anyway, ten minutes later we arrived at the Votan GmbH headquarters, and I was immediately pissed off because I saw a bit down the street a man standing there wearing a brown uniform, and around his right arm a red bandage with a swastika on it. Heinrich just wanted to leave the car, but I grabbed his shoulder and said, "Hold it. We are probably going to meet Votan if he has a good day. Whatever you do, don't talk about the Gryla manuscript. Votan and Gryla have a… let's just say complicated relationship. And now we have to be quick before this NSDAP scum sees us. For some fucking reason they are magically attracted to police officers."
We then got out of the car. Right in front of us was a big industrial complex. Everywhere were giant tubes leaking some sort of black substance, workers scuttling everywhere. It was like an ant colony where at first glance it looks like it has no order, but in reality everything is planned through, even the smallest details. Machines were scattered everywhere — some I recognized, motors and giant furnaces — but some I didn't, with strange mechanisms making weird sounds and leaking a see‑through substance with a rainbow‑esque glow. And in the middle of this industrial mess was a giant factory. It looked a bit like a castle with its weird tubes and chimneys which expelled lots of smoke.
Heinrich beside me was astonished by this view. With wide eyes and an open mouth he gazed at his surroundings. But sadly, I then felt a hand on my shoulder and an annoying voice said, "Hello, mister police officer, do you wanna join our cause and fight against the evil Jew parasites?"
I turned around and beside me stood the man in the brown uniform. He smiled at me. He had blond hair combed to the side and blue eyes. He was young, about 29, and he had a scar from his right cheek to his mouth. He continued his ramble: "Well sir, let me introduce myself. I am Rudolph Recht, and I want to tell you about our great cause. Since the creation of our great Vaterland, firstly through Napoleon and then through our great German politics in 1870, there was always a problem in our ranks as fine citizens — a pestilence which is stealing our money and jobs in these dire times of need. Those parasites, the Jews, they—"
I pushed away the hand from my shoulder and interrupted his rambling. "Oh come on, quit the bullshit and shut the fuck up. Who do you think you are, judging others because of their religion, always trying to make people believe in your racist mindset?"
He didn't expect this response, and uncertainty washed over his face for a short moment. Then he changed to a prideful expression with a little smirk and said mockingly, "You are one of those socialists, right? You think communism is the right way to go, but you don't even know the facts. Socialism won't work. Only the dictatorship of the NSDAP and the great Führer Adolf Hitler will bring peace and righteous fairness for Germany. Finally the unfair conditions of the Treaty of Versailles will be fought against, and you lot will be purged from this world. HEIL H—"
He was interrupted by a loud and mushy sound followed by a crack as my fist collided with his nose and broke it. He immediately stumbled back and fell on his ass. He held his nose, which was bleeding a lot.
"You— Judenabschaum… fucking Arschloch…" he stuttered. He was terrified and nearly cried.
I slowly walked toward him, amused at how small he now was. Then I kicked him again in the face — another crack as three teeth flew out of his mouth. This time he didn't say anything. He just lay on the ground; he had no power to stand up. So I kindly tugged at his hair so we could talk face to face.
I said, "Well, first of all, it's not polite to tell people they should be purged, especially when you yourself are nothing more than human scum. And secondly, the Treaty of Versailles might have been a problem in the past, but through the Dawes and Young Plan this problem doesn't really exist to this date. So check your facts, you Nazi scum. And now piss off before I shove you into one of these machines and transform you into canned soup."
I then let go of his hair. He crawled slowly and pathetically away while crying and muttering curses.
I thought to myself if it was really necessary to beat him this badly, but then I remembered what scum he was, so I called it a day.
"Well Heinrich, this is how you deal with vermin," I said amusingly.
Heinrich rubbed the back of his head with his hand, smiled, and said, "Well sir, I wouldn't have been this brutal, but in retrospect it was the right thing to do."
And we both laughed.