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Z: A Nazi Zombies Novel, Chap 2


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Z: Chapter 2; Rising Sun

Rising Sun Test Facility, Japan April 20th, 1945

The humidity of the swamp was palpable. A recent settling of cloud cover over the base restricted visibility to no more than fifteen feet, and the early spring morning was silent aside from a few of the twittering insects that so plagued the men working at the swamp.

The Japanese working at the Rising Sun Weapons Research Facility had taken a long time to grow accustomed to the damp, dark climate of the swamp, and the constant hassle of taking care not to lose oneself in the muck and the mire or fall victim to the area’s violent wildlife. Already the facility had lost seven men to the harsh environment; whether to sinkholes, animal attacks, malaria or any combination of the three. Whenever one was not on active duty, they were in the infirmary checking themselves for leaches, infectious insect bites, or other ailments. The men would have chosen a more comfortable environment in a heartbeat, had their object of study been anything than what it was.

The entire facility was made up of huts, which rested on bamboo support beams protruding from the murk below. The men milled about on their daily business heading to and fro across the wooden walkways between research huts, and off-duty soldiers lazed about in their quarters, enjoying each other’s company. Each soldier held their free time to be safe from the dangerous environment outside at a high price, and during these free hours the barracks were crammed with all the off-duty officers on the base.

All but one.

One lone Japanese infantryman man sat a mile outside the facility, on the damp swamp floor amidst heavy silence. He sat cross-legged, his eyes closed in a pose of concentration, his katana in the ground in front of him. This man was Captain Takeo Masaki.

Takeo came to this same spot daily, to meditate on whatever subject caught his interest. He thought better in silence, which was specifically why he chose this location: to be away from the distractions that the hustle and bustle of the facility may impose. Takeo had all too often been warned of the danger of lurking too far from the base, but he knew that, should any danger befall him, he would be more than capable of defending himself.

The others knew this too. Takeo was well respected among his men as a responsible leader and a competent warrior, and they knew full well that Takeo would never put himself into a situation he could not handle. Takeo knew this, and smiled in his meditation.

His thoughts drifted to the operations at the facility. Modern scientists were consumed with the idea of a new reliable energy source for their cities, factories and most of all, their weaponry. The entirety of the research at the facility was centered around an element that many believed to be this “infallible energy source”. Takeo was quite convinced however that this “Element 115”, this “Ununpentium” would prove to be just another dead end.

Element 115 was a more recent discovery. The source of the Element was in Siberia, where a meteorite containing the element had landed in 1908, in a happening that came to be known as the “Tunguska Event”. After contact with the 115, numerous locals reported strange happenings; the stories varied from accounts of radiation sickness, to mental deterioration, to even stories of dead being raised to life. After hearing of these tales, the world had scrambled to acquire a sample for testing. Only a lucky few nations prevailed.

But the Japanese were fortunate enough to have their own exclusive source. During the Tunguska Event a fragment had broken off of the meteor prior to landing, and had landed in Japan, where the Rising Sun Facility was later built around it. The Japanese government thought it best to keep their craft a secret, and the world was completely oblivious to their possession of 115.

Lately, however, rumor had it that news of the operations had been leaked to the public, and the Japanese people kept a vigil on the facility with suspicious interest. The public ran wild with various conspiracies of human testing, spaceflight, inter-dimensional travel, and the like. One fanatic had even gone as far as accusing the scientists of using The Element to raise the dead, in a type of undead army of sorts. This idea exploded in the public eye and every renowned conspiracist had an opinion or theory on the Rising Sun’s ‘undead’ experiments. The rumors had earned the facility a popular nickname in theorist culture: Shi No Numa or, “Swamp of The Dead”.

Takeo chuckled, his eyes still closed, The human imagination grows wild with gossip, if left unchecked, he thought. He wondered why the public saw raising the dead as an idea worthy of scorn. If the technology to raise the dead was actually in existence, he was sure that he himself would be one of the first to employ its use. He would be eager to learn from his ancestors whatever they had to teach him about life.

Takeo was born into an extremely wealthy family. The Masaki dynasty dated back several centuries, with many of his ancestors being notable samurai and bushi. Samurai blood ran deep within Takeo’s blood, and at the outset of the war, he joined the Imperial Army to fight for honor, his family name, and most of all for the glory of The Emperor. The Emperor had handpicked Takeo for an elite division whose sole purpose was to safeguard 115 test facilities, and, though Takeo himself saw no promise in the research, he took to his orders with pride and enthusiasm.

The facility intercom broke Takeo’s thoughts.

“All men of lieutenant rank and above, report to the research and development room immediately.”

Takeo’s eyes opened. Free hours were not over yet. And meetings in the R&D room had always dealt with only the most revolutionary of technological advances. What could research and development possibly have to tell them? Lieutenants and above? Surely this secrecy had good reason.

He rose and retrieved his katana from the ground before him and hurried off towards the facility.

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Takeo took his spot in the conference room watching the heavy-set bearded man on stage waving about a folder smiling as if it were the cure to cancer. The bearded man was wearing a suit, but he looked as if he belonged in a peasants rags. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked as if he had not slept in days, and his shaggy beard confirmed. Takeo smiled. He wondered how such a learned prestigious man could show himself in a meeting in such an unkempt state. Hmph! I would not trust this man to make my sushi! he thought.

He spoke, “Come right in and we will begin.”

The last men took their seats and the man on stage commenced.

“Gentlemen,” he began, “since the dawn of time, the battlefield has been controlled by those who have the latest technology. In the time of the Neanderthals, the family with the biggest club dictated all the others. With the invention of the bow and arrow, the Persian Empire dominated the ancient world. And with gunpowder, Napoleon spread the reaches of his nation across the globe. Today, my countrymen, I present to you the next stage in the evolution of human warfare: 115 technologies.” He raised the document over his head and paused briefly, then continued. “Never before has one man been able to destroy another at the molecular level.” another pause. “Until today. My job today is to inform you all of two major developments in the field of Ununpentium technology. As you well know, our supply of The Element is slowly dwindling, and our best scientists have struggled daily to create a synthetic copy of The Element so that we may fabricate as much of it as our researches may require. This is next to impossible considering the fact that our attempts so far have only produced samples of Ununpentium that last 1/10 of a second before deteriorating into nothing. Well, I am pleased to announce as of yesterday our scientists have recognized a chemical formula that successfully provides us with as much 115 as our hearts so desire!”

The scientists and a few militarymen stood and applauded briefly then took their seats again waiting for more. “Our branch of development has wasted no time in seeking an application for this new technology, and within this folder lies the fruits of their labor.”

He opened the folder as every man in the room leaned forward tense with interest.

“Good gentlemen of the Rising Sun Facility, I give you the Ray Gun!” He held up the contents of the folder: blueprints for what seemed to be a small, foreign-looking pistol, toy-like in design. The entire audience leapt to their feet, scrambling for a glimpse of the display in the speaker’s hand.

The speaker had to shout over the commotion in the room.

“The Ray Gun will harvest the sheer power in Element 115 in a powerful plasma blast of microwave technology. Upon contact the blast will deteriorate a targets molecular structure resulting in a sure and inevitable death. Our developers will begin construction on the device today and by the end of the month we will have the first weapon of the Element 115 generation!”

Immediately after the R&D meeting, Takeo made his way to the barracks to prepare for his nightly guard shift.

He traversed the bamboo walkway, looking around at the facility as he walked. This place will go down in history, he thought, as the place where warfare evolved! My ancestors would be proud. He was truly honored to be a part of the operations at the base, despite any doubts he had had before.

Takeo had mixed feelings for the recent developments. On one hand he was quite pleased with the work the scientists had done; he was eager to see what uses this unusual Element could have. It would undoubtedly prove itself useful in warfare, but this was not what Takeo’s excitement was aimed at. The raw power contained in even the slightest sample of this Element should have some sort of significant application for peacetimes: in the medical field, in industry and the like. In Takeo’s opinion, their accomplishments would better define them in times of peace than in times of war. On the other hand, Takeo had a type of unshakable fear about the project. Should this Element fall into the wrong hands, the world would fall victim to a violence never before seen by mankind. All the work at the facility would have done nothing more than arm the worlds evildoers with their latest tool of destruction. Takeo tried to suppress these fears preferring to dwell on happier thoughts, but he could not keep them away for long before they resurfaced to haunt him.

These feelings mixed together in a sort of nervous anxiety and made Takeo sick to his stomach. He needed mental rest to take in all this thought, and the thought of a warm, inviting bunk made him walk all the faster. He mounted the electric bamboo lift that would take him to the barracks and nodded to the operator. The operator pulled a rusted lever that screeched as it moved and the lift began its ascent.

Takeo took a good look at the facility from the elevated view of the lift. He imagined his view of the base as a picture in a history book. The facility did not boast much eminence, and he was only glad the reader could not smell through the pages lest he be scared away by the rancid stench of the swamp.

Takeo smiled at the thought as he reached the barracks. He stepped carefully off the rickety lift and made his way toward the circular hut his platoon called home.

Takeo entered and was happy to find the room empty so he could rest his eyes for a few minutes. Takeo stripped down to his undergarments and spread himself out on the bed. Takeo’s eyes drifted shut…..and instantly there was a knock on the door.

Takeo’s peaceful smile shattered. There would be no rest now.

Frustrated, Takeo sat up rubbed his sleepy eyes and put all the politeness he could muster into one word, “Enter”.

In walked a fellow Captain, Yoshida was his name. Yoshida was a respected soldier and a great warrior in Takeo’s eyes. He would have been a welcome guest under any other circumstances than what they were.

“Good evening Captain Masaki!” he said with a grin that Takeo found annoying at this time, “I presume you were at the meeting?”

Takeo lazily nodded and Yoshida continued, “I have come to ask your opinion on the subject.”

This was not a rare happening. Takeo was basically the unofficial counselor of the ranks, and troops never hesitated to ask for his advice or opinions on various matters, political, military, or personal. In truth, this was where the majority of Takeo’s speech took place.

“Please, go on” Takeo said masking the reluctance in his voice.

“Well Captain, a few of the men have been talking, and we have begun a debate amongst ourselves as to whether or not The Emperor would sell this technology to our allies, in order to alleviate the economy.”

Takeo had not considered this outcome, but he was firm in his support of The Emperor and adamant in his belief that he would not let this weapon fall into evil hands. Indeed, the Germans and the Americans were already close behind the Japanese, having attained 115 samples of their own. Their experiments were at a halt however, and the scientists of both nations were still hard at work trying to synthesize a man-made version of the Element. The Emperor would not let them catch up.

“No,” he responded, “The Emperor is no fool. He would never give this power to an unworthy people. He will only use this power to protect the glory of Japan and for nothing more.”

Yoshida did not look pleased, and Takeo guessed he was on the other side of the debate.

“But Captain, do you realize how much this technology would sell for? The funds from a sale could easily pull Japan out of its recession and make us the richest nation in the world! It would only bring honor to The Emperor!”

Takeo shook his head and chuckled as he pulled his service boots closer, “But think young Yoshida, at what cost? The Emperor will have given our greatest advantage away to those who will make a mockery of its use.” Takeo slipped on his boots and began to tie them, “And as the world fights for the Element, global conflict will engulf us all, and no amount of riches can protect us from this.” Takeo frightened himself with his own words.

Yoshida looked solemnly at the floor, almost ashamed to have disagreed with Takeo.

When no response came, Takeo spoke, “This is why this project must maintain absolute secrecy. If news of this development spread, all of the world would come armed to our doorstep demanding our power.”

Yoshida was reluctant to answer, but rather than look foolish he replied, “Yes……. Thank you Captain.”

Takeo finished dressing and stood “Of course Captain Yoshida. Now if you will excuse me my nightly shift is beginning.”

The two exited the barracks and went their separate ways, Takeo still thinking about what changes this “Ray Gun” will bring, and from that day, Takeo anxiously awaited its completion at the end of the month.

Weeks passed and there was no news of the weapon’s development. Apparently assembling the weapon posed more of a challenge than the scientists expected. Perhaps the weapon was never meant to be used by human hands; the world may not have been ready for 115 warfare.

Takeo dwelled on this thought as he stood at his nightly post, a guard in the inner sanctum of the meteorite storage facility. He was alone in the storage chamber, stationed here as a last resort whom everyone trusted to defend the Element to his dying breath. The meteorite rested less than twenty yards from where Takeo stood guard, with nothing but a radioactivity shield between them.

Takeo was the right man for his job, not only for his skills in combat, but also for his reclusive nature: he worked better alone. Takeo had no real friends at the base; he usually remained in isolation from the others, preferring the company of his thoughts over human companionship. Takeo was indeed well respected by every man at the base; nearly every man under him was ready to die for him. But these relationships were purely military, and never extended into anything like friendship. Takeo spent his free time (when others were socializing) in solitude, perfecting his combat skills, reading the writings Confucius, or pondering ways to better himself: mentally, physically, and spiritually. This lone-wolf nature merited his position here as the meteorite’s personal guard, where he stood watch night after night.

The meteorite storage building was made up of an outer ring of supply and testing rooms surrounding the large, “Inner Sanctum” as it was called, where the meteorite was housed. The Sanctum was about seventy yards high and one hundred yards wide in order to accommodate the meteorite which took up the majority of the room.

Takeo was at home in the complete silence of the warehouse. He stood at attention to the right of the rooms only entrance, a set of sliding iron double-doors. He was slightly hunched over, his Type 100 submachine gun at his side.

Inside, Takeo was waging a war against sleep as was his usual nightly routine. He never sat for fear of drifting to sleep, nor did he let his eyes close for more than a few seconds.

The long night took its toll and Takeo’s senses were dulled. Over the course of hours Takeo tried to shake sleep’s tightening grip by taking a stroll around the Sanctum. He looked over the various monitors around the room; readings were normal as they had always been. He climbed the stairs to the walkway over the meteorite and paced back and forth keeping a frozen stare on the rock the entire time. He glanced over to the desk in the corner where his glass of water sat peacefully. He retrieved it and sat down on the walkway, his feet hanging over the edge, dangling over the meteorite.

Takeo cracked his knuckles and reached for his glass then stopped abruptly. What was that? The water was rippling. Takeo stared, puzzled. A small tremor? Then what was that sound? There was a faint sound; a buzzing. It grew louder. Louder still! Takeo stood to his feet. The sound was now deafening. Takeo’s eyes bolted upwards and through a window in the Sanctum’s roof he saw the most menacing sight his eyes had ever beheld.

Dozens of aircraft, mostly bombers were zooming over the facility like bats out of hell. The sound matched their demonic tone, their engines roaring with a devilish screech. Takeo began to scream to alert the rest of the base, but realized the AA gunners were a step ahead of him, already firing upon the aircraft overhead.

Takeo bolted for his Type 100 at the stairs while bombs shook the facility, the ground being ripped out from Takeo’s feet at every step. He stumbled once, then was on his feet again running across the walkway. Then a particularly close shell landed. The shaking sent Takeo flying through the air and over the walkways guard rail. He grabbed at the walkway as he fell, missing it by inches.

Takeo landed hard on the meteorite, or at least the protective shield surrounding it, then slid off its side plummeting down to the unforgiving concrete floor.

He hit the floor and was unconscious immediately.

Takeo awoke. It was dark. He immediately felt the need to cough and winced in fear as ash and soot sprang from his mouth. He looked around. He saw nothing but ash and rubble. He sat up and instantly felt a sharp pain on the side of his head. He reached to feel for his ear and his hand returned covered in blood. Takeo rose. The pain in his head returned bringing with it a dizziness that almost put him down on the floor again. He regained his composure and only then did he assess the situation. He was still in the meteorite storage facility: it was in ruins and…… the meteorite!

Takeo spun around almost faster than his disoriented state would allow him to. He was relieved to see the meteorite was untouched, and looked as lost and as lonely as Takeo was.

Why had the assailants left the meteorite? If it had really been the purpose of the attack, the invaders would have stayed longer. If they had not come to take it what had they come for?

Suddenly a chilling thought gripped Takeo. Perhaps the assailants are still here!

Takeo moved off through the rubble as fast as his weak legs could carry him, and within three minutes he had emerged from the rubble.

The facility was in utter ruin. The majority of the huts were completely collapsed into the swamp in a smoldering heap, those still standing were burning. The smell of smoke filled the air, and the sky was a terrible color of reddish black smoke.

Takeo stood expressionless. The situation was dream-like. Takeo looked away for a few moments, wanting to deny the morbid reality. He turned back to the grotesque scene and the full emotional brunt of the attack settled in Takeo’s heart as he collapsed to his knees.

Takeo panted on his hands and knees for a good minute, then stopped. The abundance of his sorrow and despair seemed to have transformed in an instant into fury and vengeance. He raised his head and wiped the tears from an ash covered face.

He gazed with a wild fury at his enemies.

The Germans.

Dozens of German flags flew over the facility, and Nazi swastikas adorned the bombers that were now stationed on the swamp.

This massacre will not go unavenged. The traitorous Nazi’s stabbed the Russians in the back and now they look to do the same to Japan? On my honor, the man responsible for this atrocity will die.

Every fiber in Takeo’s being longed to rush headfirst into the compound and lay waste to every Nazi he came upon. It took every ounce of his self-control to calm himself to a more reasonable state, and he decided he had better try and salvage what research he could from the base rather than try for a mindless slaughter.

He slipped off into the brush surrounding the base and made his way through mud and sludge around the perimeter of the base. He reached a high ridge where he was able to maintain a decent overwatch on the facility.

It was completely overrun by Nazi’s. They had spread throughout the majority of the base, and the barracks and the R&D complexes seemed to be the only buildings left untouched. The Nazi’s had already set up tents, and were milling about as if they had owned the place for years. Takeo wondered how long he had been out. He was jubilant that fate had kept the Germans from searching the meteorite storage facility where he had lay unconscious for God knows how long.

Takeo lay in wait for about half an hour waiting for an opportune moment to slip in and do what he could, when he noticed much activity outside the R&D building. The Germans were rallying, and a small troop of armored troops lined up outside the building.

Of course! The Germans come for the Ray Gun!

Takeo remembered the Germans’ struggles with Element 115, how they were unable to synthesize it for themselves. Well, to the Germans this must have seemed an obvious alternative.

Takeo knew that the day he let the Germans get to the Ray Gun was the day he forfeited his honor.

He crept through the swamp to the facility’s backside as the Nazi’s moved to breach. Takeo sliced a whole in the buildings bamboo wall and stepped cautiously into the darkness of the room. He had estimated that entering through that specific area of the wall would put him in the hallway that led to the Ray Gun research room, and as far as he could tell, he was right. He heard the Germans moving around like rats in the next room. The door to the hallway cracked, and Takeo retreated into another room as a lantern was tossed down the hall followed by two Germans. Takeo watched through a crack in the door, holding his breath as they approached his room.

He silently unsheathed his katana and held it in front of his face, preparing to strike. The men stepped closer………… and closer……….and after one final step, Takeo struck.

He burst into the hall with a shout. He leapt and twirled in the air, one hand forcing the first Germans head down into a crouched position, and the other thrusting his katana down through the man’s shoulder, into his foot, and through the floor. The second German froze, and Takeo smashed a kick into his chest sending him flying into the nearest wall. Takeo turned back to the impaled German. He snatched an MP40 from the still screaming man’s hand and used it to gun down the second who was still dazed from the kick.

Takeo paused for a few moments, panting and reloading the MP40 with a fresh magazine, when he realized that the impaled Nazi was still alive and screaming something in German. He pulled the katana out and ended the man’s suffering execution-style. The screaming must have attracted attention, and another squad was stacked up outside the hallway. Takeo heard them. No time to hide, he thought.

He charged straight at the breaching team and lay into them with his katana. Two slices across the chest for the first. A slice to the thigh and kick to the neck for the second. A slash to the throat for the third, and a stab through the heart for the last.

Takeo moved into the main entrance room where he saw three men in breaching gear talking amongst themselves. He charged with blinding speed. He jumped towards one man springing himself backwards off his chest and landing a kick to his face in midair. Takeo stabbed his katana down into another man’s head as he landed, and turned to the last. The final German had his rifle raised and was preparing to fire. Takeo swatted the rifle aside with a lightning fast kick and fired with his own MP40 into the German’s throat. The Nazi made gargling sounds and held his neck as he crumpled and then moved no more.

Takeo stopped, and listened, his katana in front of him in ready position. He heard nothing. He looked around at the massacre before him. He had no pity on them. They were Nazis: a title that overnight had become synonymous with dog in Takeo’s eyes. He looked at his bloodied sword and busied himself with cleaning it with his uniform. He suddenly stopped, dumbfounded.

There was no noise outside but the usual buzzing of insects. The room was eerily quiet, quieter than Takeo could bear. He approached the iron double doors cautiously and listened. Still there was nothing. Takeo cracked the door and peeked outside.

Instantly a floodlight shone with blinding brightness on Takeo from a German truck. Panicking, Takeo rubbed his eyes and barely made out a German man shouldering a rocket, before he fled in horror. Takeo heard the sound of the rocket, and a split second later the air behind him exploded with shrapnel. The iron door was sent flying and knocked Takeo on his back. He lay and held his ringing ears, his eyes shut in agony. The ringing subsided and Takeo opened his eyes.

He was greeted with the sight of six Germans standing, less than ten feet from him, guns raised. One stood in front of the others, he had a crazed look in his eye and his face expressed supreme interest.

No! There is no honor for prisoners of war.

He found his katana still in hand. He looked at it then back to the Germans. He closed his eyes.

Now I will see my ancestors.

He raised the katana to his heart and was ready to take his own life when a shot rang out and the blade flew from his hands.

“NEIN!!!!”

The delirious looking German spoke, “No no noooooo little monkey! How can I enjoy your pain if you are already dead?!?!?!”

A man behind him spoke, “Will you be keeping this one doctor?”

“Yes yessss! It seems we’ve found the smelly Russian a playmate!”

Chapter 1: Nikolai

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  • 2 weeks later...

Wow! The eloquence in this is just... wow. You are so fluid with your words. This is truly a remarkable work. It's unfortunate that chapter one got deleted or moved or something ; I would have loved to read the whole work!

You really captured the essence of Takeo with this piece. It was so beautifully written, the words and sentences so eloquent. You have the mark of a truly gifted writer: the ability to make words create a scene in your head with such vividness that you feel as though you are actually there. And I think anyone that read this can appreciate that.

You also had excellent sentence variation, meaning no two consecutive sentences were ever the same structure (complex, simple, etc.). This is something I have worked a lot on, but I can tell that you've got a natural knack for it!

However, while the eloquence achieved in this story is matched by few, I feel that your characterization could be improved. I know that Takeo is often a dull character, and I am by no means calling your story dull, but some of the descriptions and imagery were dragged out a bit too much. You could stand to add a little more flare to the work. The addition of Richtofen helped with that, but a good majority of the piece was just 'purple prose'. Purple prose is a good thing when used wisely, but use it too often and it can really suck a lot of life out of a story. Just my opinion, though! Take all of this with a grain of salt.

Awesome job, man! :D

-perfect

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  • 1 month later...

Your character back stories are some of the best things I have ever read in my life. The way you describe every little detail bit by bit is just amazing and better than most books I've ever read. You could make this into a book and I bet a whole lot of zombie fans like myself would pay top dollar for this. Keep it up and don't change a thing because you're doing great.

p.s. if you are, when will you post a story about tank and possibly Richthofen?

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  • 1 month later...

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