Act I: "Beginnings"

The first chapter of "Extinction: 1945".

A great philosopher once said that at one time, life was nasty, brutish, and short. In many ways however, life is still very much nasty, brutish, and short. Every living creature knows violence by second nature, which make violence impossible to prevent. At the root of violence is a prize...power, money, resources, greed, territory...just to name a few. But if you take your eye off of the game for even a millionth of a second...you pay the price...and the price is big. You either live or you die in this world, and many great civilizations and species have gone down the path of the latter, such as the Romans and Napoleonic France. Only the best survive, and that's the way it's been since the beginning.
But the best don't last long amongst each other.
When there's no more weaker species or civilizations left to wipe out, they turn on each other, and one by one they pick each other off until there is only two species or civilizations left.
Then the last two species or civilizations will fight right down to the last being standing.
They'll either wipe one or the other out...or they'll fight until there's nobody left alive to fight on both sides. The side that wins becomes the dominant group...and winning feels so good. But the side that loses...they don't get a second chance, because there is no members of that species or civilization left to fight. That's the business owned by Darwinism, and it's a successful business. It's the way evolution and nature goes; those who are stronger and smarter survive, right? Ever since the first lifeforms walked the Earth that rule has existed...and that rule has been around for a very, very long time, much longer than any of us have been around. If you don't kill or adapt, your kind will go from being the hunter to being the hunted...and it has always been good to be the hunter.

But life will always prevail...always.

Juni 15th, 1945

Unterträger Karl Dönitz

Irgendwo in der Südatlantik

Feldwebel Milo Zander

17. SS Panzergrenadier-Division

05:01 stunden

I sat in the carrier's empty lounge, my unloaded StG 44 rifle stiing on the table next to me while I smoked a cigarette and listened to the classical music quietly playing on the lounge's record player. Nobody would be awake at this time with the exception of the naval officers on the bridge, soldiers assigned to security tasks, and the chefs preparing breakfast for everybody. I stared at the large, luxurious grandfather clock facing me from across the room. It reminded me of my home...it was a town called Dresden. It was bombed by the allies in February...f*****g massacre. It was a time of war though...events like that are bound to happen in any war. All my loved ones died except for my wife, who was on board the ship as well. Then again, all our wives and children were on board...after all, our mission was to rebuild the Third Reich- Hitler's orders. I didn't wanna go; hell, hardly any of us wanted to...we were forced into it of course, just like I was forced into the SS because my mother had "Aryan" traits. However, the one thing everyone on board agreed on was that we had a job to get done- regardless of whether we wanted to do it or not.

A knock on the lounge's open door, and I turn around. There stood a young woman; shorter than myself, her blonde, and her eyes a beautiful mix of grey and blue. Her name was Aleana- Aleana Loutan. She was an aspiring artist, and the daughter of the vessel's captain. She was only 18, and her and I had grown close since we departed from mainland Europe in May. We discussed things such as biology, history, art, personal struggles...she was a well-educated young woman, and she shared many interests with me. I hesitated to tell her, but I had grown to have an affection for her, I had grown to love her. How she felt though, I did not know...perhaps I was better off not knowing. After all, how could she love someone like me, someone so worn down from the hardships of life so early on?

"Thought you wouldn't be up at this time," I said to her, looking towards her and smiling. "I thought the same as you," replied Aleana, leaning against the doorway.

I pulled up a chair, facing it towards me. I looked back towards her, "Come, forward."

She came into the room, sitting in the chair I placed in front on me. I got up and walked towards the bartender's counter. I walked behind the counter, grabbing a champagne bottle. I grabbed two glasses from the counter and faced her, "Champagne?"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt...but so early, and won't the bar staff notice?"

"No, they won't. It doesn't matter either, we've got years worth of alcohol aboard this ship."

"If you insist," replied Aleana, smiling.

I opened the bottle, and poured it's contents into the two glasses. I then closed the bottle and put it back on the shelf. I walked over to her and handed her one of the full glasses, then sat down, "Well, at the very least did you sleep well?"
Aleana sipped from her glass, "I suppose it was okay...I toss and turn lots at night."
"I see."
"It would be appropriate for me to return the question to you, did you sleep well?"
I removed the cigarette from my mouth and drank from the glass, gulping down the champagne, then setting the glass down on the chair's arm and returning the cigarette to my mouth, "That's a good question, Aleana. Men like me, the ones who grew up hungry in poverty-plagued families and searched for jobs that didn't exist, then were promised peace and prosperity only to be greeted by war in the new era- we don't sleep. We were given promises...money, food, jobs...and we only received bloodshed and war."
"But Milo, that does not answer my question."
"I believe it does, you see. I've lived a hard life filled with tragedy, so I never sleep easy with this guilty conscience of mine."
Aleana looked down and was silent for a moment. She reached out and held my hand tightly, "I understand, Milo. I do...I know how you feel."
I looked down at her hand grasping my left hand tightly, "I know you do...but you weren't there, forced to fight and resort to animalistic ways to survive...but I'm glad that you weren't, unbelievably glad, actually."
I felt Aleana's hand trembling in mine, her pulse quickening, "I'm so happy you made it all these years...twenty-three in all."
I looked up at her; she was so beautiful...everything about her, just so perfect. It was the perfect moment...just her and I. I wanted it to last forever. How this moment came upon us so quick, I'll never know...but I wanted it to last forever. It was perfect, everything about it was perfect.
She looked up at me; her blonde bangs coming down over her right eye, her face so soft to the touch, and her eyes...just so...so much like the skies above.
I couldn't hold it in any more, on those early hours of the day. I just had to tell her how I felt about her. I wiped away her bangs, sliding my hand down the soft skin of her face, "I've grown to love you, Autumn...over these months; but I'm scared to know how you feel."
Aleana touched my hand that was running down her face, then removed it and ran her hand along the left side of my face, which was deeply scarred, "I've grown to feel the same about you...to love you...for who you are, for everything you are."

Her hand was soft, as was her touch. My heart pounded in my chest, "Even these scars, these sad eyes?"

"Even those, Milo...your eyes, they're beautiful."

I wanted to kiss her, but I hesitated for a moment; I had been deprived of love for so long. As I looked into her eyes, I could tell she felt the same, I could tell she wasn't telling lies, and I could tell she wanted to kiss me too but was scared.

Then it happened, the heat of the moment gave way and we both couldn't resist any more. As Aleana moved in to finally lock lips with me, I set aside my cigarette and I too moved in.

A knock on the door; the moment had been ruined. We both turned to face the door, and there stood a sailor.

Hans was his name, a crew member onboard the vessel that I happened to know. "Good morning, Milo...and, well, Aleana, too. We have surfaced."

I smothered my cigarette in an ashtray on the table next to me, "Acknowledged, why are you alerting me of such, though?"

"I was sent by the bridge down here. Orders are to wake all senior-ranking soldiers and ask them to report to the bridge immediately."

"But my dear Hans, you aren't telling me why."

He chuckled at my remark, "Well, we've arrived. We're about two kilometres off it's shoreline. You might want to see it for yourself."

I grabbed my unloaded rifle from the tabletop and slung it around my shoulder. I turned to Aleana, bending down on one knee and touching her face with my hand, "If things go well this time around, I promise we'll meet again tonight, hopefully on shore."

"Okay...I'll be waiting."

Good girl."

I walked out of the lounge, past Hans. Hans looked at Aleana and snickered, "So does your father know that you're his mistress?"

"Shut it, man-child." 

Could it have been, though? The right island at last found after weeks of guessing? We were lost so many times...having to retrace our steps...going in circles...sure, we had years worth of petroleum, but what a waste it was to use all that fuel only to end up being lost or chasing your own tail. What were the odds of such an occurrence happening again to all of us? Very high...very high indeed. It would either be that we find our selected island or not at all...or even worse, an allied surface vessel or aircraft could spot us before we even find our destination...and that- that would be the end of us. With nowhere to run or hide. I was fed up and becoming impatient with this whole operation; we all were like that.

"This better be the right island," I said to myself in my mind as a fellow soldier knocked on the bridge's door.

"Come forward," said the captain, Herb Loutan. We opened the door and stepped into the bridge; a fellow soldier spoke up, "We were requested, captain?"

"Correct. Can anyone tell me why?"

I spoke up, "I have knowledge of why we were requested."

"Would you be so kind as to tell to tell your fellow gentlemen, feldwebel?"

"We have spotted the island which was chosen for us to rebuild upon, or so I was told."

Herb nodded, "Thank you, feldwebel, that is correct."

Herb turned to face the windows, which looked out of the bridge and towards the deck and the horizon; and in between the deck and the horizon laid the island...a large, lost, menacing landmass. He stared at the island with narrowed eyes, "You men in the SS and the infantry are to go out on landing craft to the island and secure a beachhead. I also want men pushing further inland to scout out the island and find suitable areas on which to build upon. Armoured troops and pilots, you men will be alongside the landing force and supporting them if needed."

"Captain, what use would an armoured vehicle such as a Tiger or Panther tank be when there is no opponents on this island we are to land upon?" asked an armoured soldier, specifically a tank commander. "Well, lieutenant, the sheer force of such vehicles can create clearings through dense foliage, correct?" Herb asked the tank commander. "I believe so, yes...but what about the tank's cannon, what use would it's main armament be?" questioned the tank commander, still wondering about the purpose of his tank in the operation that was soon to be carried out. "Blow away trees, boulders; whatever cannot be moved even by the tanks." answered Herb, still staring towards the island. The tank commander looked over to one of his fellow crew members, a radio operator. The radio operator nodded and the tank commander nodded back. He looked towards captain Herb again, "Right, that shall be carried out when requested."

"Excellent, lieutenant." Herb looked skyward, observing the clear, cloudless skies ahead, "Airmen, you are to do the same when requested. Create clearings and clear pathways with bombs and rockets."

A fighter squadron leader in the room acknowledged his order, "We shall carry out necessary actions when requested, captain."

Herb nodded, then smiled, but still remained focused on what was ahead of our ship, "Excellent. Wake your fellow fighting men...you will embark to the island in approximately one hour. Move it."

We all left the bridge at a hurried pace, dispersing amongst the many dimly-lit floors, hallways, and corridors of the ship. My squad was at the rear of the large craft...a very long way from the bridge. Only a few units were stationed in the stern, and mine was one of the lucky ones, the others being a platoon of paratroopers and a group of Wermacht infantrymen assigned to security detail.

"Milo, slow down, comrade!"

I turned around, startled. My platoon's leader, lieutenant Rudolph Busch, was behind me, "Jesus, Bushy, you scared me."

"My apologies. Where were you at the meeting in the bridge?"

"The real question is where you were."

"Ah, Milo- always a comedian! You see, my boy, I was in the bridge. But where were you?"

"Why, you see, I was in the same bridge that you speak of, friend."

"You must have been hiding."

I chuckled, "I must have been, Rudolph."

The two of us reached our platoon's quarters.

"Shall we wake the ladies from their beauty sleep?" asked Rudolph humorously. "Oh please, those grunts in there are far from sleeping beauties," I replied, raising my arm to hit the door hard.

I banged against the door with my fist as hard as I could several times, then Rudolph flung the door open and the loud bang of the door hitting the wall followed suite. We turned on the lights, kicked the walls, shook the soldiers under our command, knocked them right out of their beds...whatever we could do to get them moving.

"Come on, ladies! Move your asses out of bed! This isn't a drill, let's go!" I yelled, dragging a private out of his bed. "Get out of bed and into your boots, go, go, go!" shouted Rudolph, ripping the blanket away from a soldier who was still trying to sleep. Another private in the barracks looked at his wristwatch, which was illuminated by the room's dim lighting. He turned to face the soldier in the bunk next to him, "This is bullshit...it's five thirty in the morning."

I overheard the private, and went to face him. I went right up close to him, my robust build looming over his thin form, "You think this is bullshit, private?"

The young soldier gulped, a million thoughts going through his head at once, "No, sergeant Zander."

I remained calm, "Then why complain?"

"I did not complain, sergeant."

I snapped, and then grabbed him by his neck and shoved him against the wall. I made it clear to him that I was the alpha male, and disobedience would not be tolerated in any form, "Don't f**k with me, private! You don't think I recognize a lie when I hear one?"

The private replied in a rasp voice, struggling to gasp for air, "No, sir...you can identify lies."

I tightened my grip around his neck, "Disobedience will not stand, do you understand?"

"Yes...sir!"

I let go of him, and he fell to his knees holding his neck. I walked away, then turned around to face him, "Get dressed, grab your weapon, and move it...and never lie again. Your loyalty is to me, so act like it," I then quickly turned to the soldier next to him, a corporal, "Oh, by the way, you'll be next if you don't get your a*s in gear as well."

Dishonesty to me, as well as to Rudolph, was the worst form of disloyalty and disobedience. Liars would not be tolerated by me, the dominant figure in the group...because even the smallest lie can have deadly consequences. Why was I the apex predator, and not Rudolph? I had actually spent time in combat; I knew my enemy...I learned from him, respected him...and was worn down by him. The enemy taught me to be strong, taught me how to fight. I had tasted the wine of battle and savored the bread of war; something that Rudolph never had a chance to do. He wasn't baptized through bloodshed, but I was...and that made me the strongest, unmatched as the alpha male. He was only a tactician and representative of my unit, but I was the one who truly lead the pack into battle. 

My unit, Rudolph, and I approached the ammunition/equipment storage room in our sector of the ship. I opened the heavy, armored door to the room. I waved everyone in, "Come on, load up and gear up, move it!"

Everyone moved into the room, opening their assigned equipment lockers and opening the lids of ammunition crates filled with linked machine gun ammunition and already loaded rifle and submachinegun magazines and clips Next I came in, leaving the door unattended; it wouldn't have locked on us if it closed. I went to my assigned equipment locker and opened it. I took my stahlhelm off it's hangar, placing it on my head. I snapped the helmet's chin straps tightly around my chin, just to make sure that it wouldn't fall off. Next, I reached for my suspenders, which had a belt attached that held a water canteen and ammunition pouches. I slipped the suspenders on, then strapped it's belt buckle together. Next, I opened the ammunition pouches attached to the suspenders and walked over to an ammunition crate.

First, I equipped my side-arm, a holstered Luger P08, with an eight round magazine. Next I grabbed three other pistol magazines and placed them in their ammunition pouches. Then, I equipped my rifle, an StG-44, with a thirty round magazine. I grabbed a dozen or so other StG magazines, and placed each one in their respective pouch. I didn't bother to equip any grenades, since I knew that odds are that I wouldn't be needing them.

I turned around to face everyone; other than a few soldiers still putting helmets on or loading their weapons, we were ready to go.

"Are we ready to move?" asked Rudolph as the last sounds of soldiers strapping equipment on and bumping magazines into weapons sounded out. "Yeah, we're clear." replied a private, a young boy named Ollie Heckler. "Sergeant, verify this?" Rudolph asked me, holding his MP40 submachinegun by it's magazine well. "Verified, weapons are live and men are fully equipped." I replied, holding my StG over my right shoulder by it's barrel. "Affirmative. Let's move along to the launching bay, let's go!" Ordered Rudolph, waving everyone out of the room. I was reluctant to follow his orders.

Rudolph and I, we had a strange friendship...we often challenged each other, but we were also friendly towards one another at times. I don't know why we had that kind of friendship- perhaps we had that kind of friendship because the lower ranking soldiers turned to me more often than him, or maybe it was otherwise. I have to admit though, he knew what to do at times, although he'd use the soldiers under his command ineffectively, and often he'd resort to ruthlessly leaving his soldiers to die rather than attempting to save them; well, if it was possible to save them, that is. He was always in a frame of mind where he believed that he had unlimited men and resources at his disposal. He was right about the resources, we had an ammunition and weapon shop on board, but when it came to soldiers, at the time... he was so wrong. He had yet to learn that though, and hopefully it wouldn't have been too late by the time he learned.

We entered the launching bay, which was packed with landing craft for us soldiers, along with the armoured and mechanized units, whose vehicles were already loaded. We drilled launching in a landing craft so often when we were on the ship that it almost seemed natural to get into a landing craft the moment you saw one. It seemed as if it was hard-wired into our minds, like a robot programmed to obey a certain command- the only difference being that we were flesh and blood, and had conscience thoughts.

Ollie, a radio operator in my squad, held on tight to his Kar98 rifle and walked beside me, looking at the many vehicles packed into the landing crafts, "They did all of this in around an hour?"

I nodded, "Well, my boy, they have been practising and executing this process like the rest of us have been."

"I guess you are right. Think we'll find anything good on this island?"

I turned to him, "What do you mean?"

"Like, a primitive civilization or something."

"I don't know, Ollie...I don't know. To be honest I think we shouldn't be doing this."

"Why not?"

"Because we don't know what's out there...that island is big for something uncharted, far bigger than any other island we've come across so far. I just have that feeling deep down that whatever is on this island is better off left alone."

"Why, wouldn't it be better to discover something like an ancient people or an ape like King-Kong?"

"Because if there is really anything on this island, we may not like what we find."

"I see your point," said Ollie as we approached our landing craft. "I bet it's nothing, chances are this island is most likely devoid of any non-plant or non-avian life," I replied, just shaking the bad feeling I had, which I had learned to feel when going into dozens of combat zones during the war. "You're probably right, Milo," said Ollie, getting into our landing craft.

I followed him on board the landing craft; we would be the last troops to be prepared for launch that morning.  I and three or four squads from my Platoon were packed into the small craft like sardines in a can, with little shoulder space to move around. With my robust build it was particularly hard to move around, as I was much more built for physical labour than most of my platoon, which was composed mostly of young men no older than eighteen or nineteen, some even younger (I had worked on farmland and in forestry during my teenage years, hence why I was so suited to physical work).

The massive gates to the launching bay opened, flooding the launching bay with water to make our crafts buoyant, and morning sunlight poured into the the moderately-lit room giving it light. 

The red lights on the walls turned green; time to move. The sailors who loaded and readied the landing craft for us stood at attention along the walkways beside the landing crafts, their right arms thrown up into the air to salute us as we departed; secretly, I was disgusted by the action.

After a couple minutes of traffic consisting of landing craft exiting the ship, we finally made it out and head towards our target beaches. Overhead was the sound of Lutwaffe and Kreigsmarine aircraft flying over us troops and towards the island to circle overhead and support our landings. The water underneath us was calm and clear as day that morning...so clear that one could see all sorts of exotic marine life if he chose to have a look.

But looking, that wasn't an option for us; we kept our heads down, despite the absence of any enemy artillery and machine gun fire.

I turned to my squad, my rifle at hand. "Alright, our beach is sector "black", and our rally point is the nearest foliage to our point of drop off. We are to take to the right side of sector "black", and Rudolph and his men will be taking to the left of the sector. According to intel, there is a clearing some ways inland so us and the squad taking left are to move inland after our rally points and eventually link up at this clearing at, where we are to light flares to signal that we have captured our objective and that it is ready to be advanced upon and an forward operating base set up. Stay close, don't get separated, just so we don't lose a man. Understood?"

My squad replied, "Yes, sergeant."

I nodded and turned back around.

"Fifteen second until landing!" yelled the landing craft operator as we drew closer to our sector. "Fifteen seconds, weapons hot!" I yelled to my squad, charging my StG and clicking off the safety. As soon as I had readied my rifle, my squad readied their weapons, filling the boat with the distinctive "clack-clack" of a gun being loaded...reminding me of the drug of combat, the syringe of war once more.

The fifteen seconds expired; the landing craft ground to a halt against the beach and the ramp lowered. "Zero seconds, clear the raft!" yelled the landing craft operator, waving us out. I darted out of the landing craft towards the nearest foliage, and my platoon followed, each man scattering to his rally point. As I ran, I looked at my surroundings on the beach, and realized just how grand Operation "Atlantikblitz" really was; so many troops and vehicles landing, and so many aircraft above that they were like a swarm of buzzards looking for food.

I reached the nearest foliage and crouched down, scouring the sector for any men from my small squad that may have gotten lost, despite such an occurrence being unlikely. Shortly after I had reached the rally point, one after another my men arrived and crouched down with me. About five minutes in, all eight men including myself were at the rally point. My squad was small; really, Rudolph had the rest of the men in the platoon, and why he did is still beyond me. My squad consisted of Ollie, Landor, Artur, Elias, Georg, Hugo, Isaak, Alexander, and myself. Landor was the only machine gunner, and Artur was the only dedicated grenadier; likewise, Alexander was a good shot, so his Kar98k rifle had a scope attached atop and he was labeled as our marksman. We also only had one radio, which Ollie possessed. We travelled light...very light.

"Everybody here and set?" I asked, looking around at my squad, which was gathered around me. Landor looked around, his MG42 machine gun slung around his shoulder, "Yeah, looks like we're all set."

"Alright, does anybody wanna rest before we move?"

My squad was silent for a moment, I nodded, "Good, let's advance inland towards our objective. Ollie, I want you radioing in our position to the Karl Dönitz, and I want you to keep in contact with Rudolph and his men as well, check in about every five or ten minutes with them, understood?"

Ollie nodded, and reached for his radio, "Yeah, I can do that."

"Excellent," I stood up, waving my men up, "Now let's move."

And so we advanced into the unknown territory...it was almost like a scene out of a Tarzan, or even King Kong...the foliage making us feel so small in this world, and so many exotic birds and lizards watching us new creatures silently creep through this strange new world. However, not everything here was small...nor was everything friendly. And little did we know...that whatever it was...it already knew that we were here, and it was watching.

Author's Note

German-English translations

Juni= June.

Unterträger Karl Dönitz= Undersea Carrier Karl Dönitz (this is a fictional Nazi super submarine/aircraft carrier hybrid, developed during the end of the Second World War in secrecy).

Irgendwo in der Südatlankic= Somewhere in the South Atlantic Ocean.

Feldwebel= Sergeant.

Panzergrenadier= Armoured infantry.

Stunden= Hours.

Stahlhelm= Steel helmet. This was the designation of the iconic German helmets of the end of the First World War and as well as the Second World War. The design of the helmet received little changes throughout its service, and is the basis of many modern day military helmets.

Atlantikblitz- "Atlantic war", which is the name of the fictional top-secret operation in "Extinction: 1945".

Reviews

[Real Inspiration]

This is so good. I am honestly speechless right now. I have..wow, I have no words. I am amazed at this. Wonderful work you have here. Please, please, please! Never stop writing!

[Mason Zadorozniak]

Thank you so much, I really appreciate your kind comments! More is coming soon!

[Real Inspiration]

You are so very welcome.