Onset Fascism
Einleitung
Young Mrs. Warner was speeding down the road in her blue minivan with astonishing speed as she entered the school zone. Completely ignoring, but not avoiding, the hordes of small and fragile middle scholars as she plowed through them to the guest parking lot. Upon reaching the parking space she abruptly stopped the car and stepped out. She hastily walked through the school’s front doors and into the principal’s office where she saw her only child, Richard Warner, sitting terrified in a small plastic chair.
“Young man- what is the meaning of this!? You said ''what!?''” Richard’s mother shouted.
“Mrs. Warner, within the past hour your son has been causing a disturbance in his classroom. He has been saying some, um- rather inappropriate things not allowed on campus.” The principal told her.
“Yeah, I know! I discussed this already with the assistant principal on the phone! Richard- I- where did you hear such things? Why would you say them?”
“I can’t help it! I’m sorry! No matter how hard I try I can’t- ''Sieg heil, mein Führer!”''
Pert 1: A Healthy Dose of Exposition
It wasn't long for Richard’s parents to realize that their little dark curly-haired Jewish boy had absolutely no reason to shout Nazi salutes and stick his right arm out in front of him in seemingly random intervals. So they had him meet with a psychologist who was shocked and yet very amused by what he was seeing. The Warner family did not think it was funny and were upset at how the psychologist couldn’t stop giggling. The psychologist consulted his colleagues and their diagnosis was unanimous: Nazi Tourette’s. Mrs. Warner and the rest of the family couldn’t believe what they were hearing, the psychologist was now laughing out loud. Tourette’s is a horrible and life altering syndrome, Richard’s social life was over; he couldn’t go out in public anymore, for what people think of him? No one was quite sure how to treat his peculiar condition, so he was prescribed some antipsychotics and a racial sensitivity training booklet.
Richard was understandably upset at his new life augmentation; raging teenage angst was flowing through his veins as well as his arteries. He was laying his head against a window in his dimly lit room looking out at the rainy weather, it was really mopey. His hand was swollen and covered in bandages because the other day one of his episodes caused him to shove his right hand into a hive of angry bees. He turned his head towards his computer screen which was open to creepypasta.wikia.com. He had become a big fan of creepypastas mostly because reading was all he could do. Whenever he tried to play video games before the bees incident he would keep throwing his controller or mouse across the room because of his tics. He wanted to write one of his own; he had this really fucking stupid idea about a murderer whose name was the “Weatherman.” While he’s hunting somebody down, he narrates it as if he’s reporting the weather. That’s how he got his name.
Richard thought about his disorders and their implications; why did his tics salute Hitler? He thought about what sinister deep subconscious impulses could be causing such uncontrollable patriotism. Dark forces were gathering in his mind much like piranhas gather around an unfortunate swimmer. Richard was trying to think of an answer, but was not very smart so he couldn’t think of one.
“Sweetie?” said Richard’s mother as she knocked on his door and slowly walked in. “It’s time to go to your support group meeting, like we talked about.” “I don’t want to mom, they can’t help me. ''Vernichtung der jüdischen Rasse!” ''“Richie, we’ve talked about this. You’re going regardless and that’s final.”
It was about a 15 minute drive to the mental hospital that was sponsoring the Tourette’s support group. Mrs. Warner walked Richard to the room adjacent to the main lobby where the group meeting was located. “Okay, here it is! Call me if you need anything, okay? Have fun!” She kissed him on the forehead and left. He was wearing black dress pants with dress shoes and a black sleeveless button-up vest over his white-collar shirt. His parents really wanted him to look nice even at the sacrifice of him looking like a preppy bitch.
Richard walked into the room and shouted: ''“Sieg heil!”'' as if on cue. It got everybody’s attention. “Is that um- your tic?” a boy asked. “Yes,” replied Richard. “Oh, okay. Well come sit with us!” “What happened to your hand?” one of them asked. “I was Nichols Caged,” he replied, hoping one of them would get the joke. No one got the joke. Richard sat in one of the chairs in a small circle made up of five other people; they all introduced themselves to Richard. There was Allison Lou, Chase McMurphy, Toby Rodgers, Wolfgang Flür, and the token Black Tourette’s kid: Adam Brown.
They all began to describe their tics. Allison’s tic was to clap her hands, Chase’s tic was to shout random inspiration movie speech quotes, Toby’s tic was to twitch his neck and various other parts of his body, Adam’s tic was to slap himself in the face, and Wolfgang’s tic reportedly was to blink whenever his eyes felt dry. While obsessive blinking was a possible tic, Wolfgang probably doesn’t have Tourette’s but nobody has the heart to tell him.
Richard remained quiet throughout the majority of the meeting; he simply sat with his arms and legs crossed while listening to the other’s anecdotal stories about their week. Allison went on about how her new boyfriend got a sweet gig for his garage band to play in his neighbor’s backyard. Being 17, she was the oldest of the group. She was a bit taller than average high school girls and had long, black, wavy hair. She seemed confident and happy with her life, not being very affected by her Tourette’s. Richard wished he could say the same.
Chase was the shortest of the group. He wore formal glasses and had a very clean-cut businessman like haircut even though he was only 14. In the middle of talking about his love for the game Dota 2, he shouted: ''“You make sure they remember, forever, the night they played the Titans!”'' He continued on as if it never happened. Richard then asked him what movie that was from and Chase replied that he had no idea.
Toby was the most soft spoken of the bunch. He was glad that his father was beating him less often. His hair was messy and brown and healed scars were visible on his arms. His shoulders would pop up and his head twitch to the side every now and then, his tics occurred far more frequently than the others. He seemed to be the most pitiful to Richard, for his problems extended far beyond just Tourette’s.
Adam appeared to be the most light hearted. His short ink-colored yet bushy hair resembled a finely trimmed hedge. He was laughing about how while playing basketball with his friends he slapped the ball out of his own hands and accidentally passed it to an opponent who then scored a goal. He then slapped himself in the face.
Wolfgang was by far the most bizarre of these unlikely friends. While he obviously had a whole laundry list of problems it was kind of hard to say exactly what he had. He was extremely pedantic, had difficulty concentrating, talked too fast, would not stop complaining, and was completely convinced that Spiderman killed his parents. His eyes looked sunken in and his red hair like a dirty mop.
Richard was surprised at how everyone was talking to one another; he noticed they all seemed to completely ignore each other’s tics and talk like they weren’t even happening. No funny looks, no awkward silences. He respected that. He began to feel more comfortable and accepted knowing that in a way, he wasn’t alone anymore. The dark forces inside of him saying that he should kill everyone he loves because he’s an angsty teen in a creepypasta were dying down.
It was now Richard’s turn to talk, so he introduced himself. “So yeah, I’m Richard. And I have, um- Nazi Tourette’s.” Everyone just stared. “I yell out Nazi salutes, or, uh, parts of Hitler’s speeches and stick my right arm out like a Nazi.” He waited for a response from someone. “That’s freaky,” Allison replied. “Yeah, I know right? I mean, I’m Jewish too. ''Nationalsozialisten!''” “How do other people react?” Wolfgang asked. Richard began to have horrible flashbacks. “Awful, just- awful,” he said while he was shaking his head. “The kids at my middle school have been calling me ‘Hitler Youth’ recently.” Chase burst out laughing. “Oh my God! I was totally thinking of that!” “Chase! That’s not cool!” Allison remarked. Chase calmed down a bit. “Aw man, that’s too good. I’m sorry dude, but you have to admit that that’s pretty funny.” Richard was upset at first, but then began to chuckle too. “Yeah, I guess it is actually kinda funny.”
Richard brought up his love for creepypastas and was surprised to discover that everyone else also had an affinity for creepypastas. They all discussed their favorite pastas, the one they all unanimously agreed upon as their group favorite was “Jeff the Killer.” Toby really liked the “Ticci-Toby” creepypasta because he could relate to it. A kid with Tourette’s named Toby whose sister died in a car wreck and who doesn’t like his drunken father, very similar to his own life story. Even the kids at Toby’s school call him: “Ticci-Toby” just like in the creepypasta. Richard had read that story and he too noticed just how similar the similarities were, he thought it was a bit odd. Perhaps Toby was the real writer of the story, or was something 2spoopy going on?
Pert 2: The Fun Begins. Or Does it? Probably.
Richard had unfortunately just finished his “Weatherman” creepypasta and it was filled as much hyper-realistic blood and bad writing as Sonic.exe on hyper-realistic steroids. He had just published his story on the wiki and also had a physical copy of it which he was going to take with him to his support group’s sleepover party over at Allison’s house which he had been invited to. Her parents were not going to be there and she was going to be babysitting the middle scholars during the sleepover. This worried Richard’s parents, he assured them by saying: “She already has a boyfriend.” “She could be a slut,” his mother replied. His father was objecting less and thought it could be a positive experience for Richard.
So his father drove him over to Allison’s house while her parents were about to drive away. Mr. Warner met with Allison’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Lou, as Richard walked by them to the front door. Mr. Lou didn’t speak any English so he just stood there and nodded to whatever Mr. Warner and Mrs. Lou were saying. They all drove away as Richard was let into the house by Allison. “Nice place you got here. ''Erkennt euren gemeinsamen Feind!” ''“Thanks,” Allison replied, “Whatcha got there?” She pointed to the sheets of paper he was carrying. “I wrote my own creepypasta! I wanted to share it with you guys.” Allison put a big smile on her face. “That’s awesome! You should totally read it. Let’s wait until it gets darker though, to make it scarier!” “Yeah, okay!” replied Richard.
He followed Allison into the living room and found the rest of the gang trying out various bootleg copies of games they bought off eBay for around a dollar each to test and see if any of them were haunted. In a pile were a bunch of Sonic.exe’s, various Pokémon games, something labeled “MaRIo,”a NES Godzilla game, a Majora’s Mask game, and a Kirby game named “Deadland.” “The description on each product gave a 100% guarantee that they were haunted! But half of them won’t even work!” Wolfgang exclaimed. “Yeah, none of them seemed haunted, just really buggy. It’s super lame,” Chase said. “I think we checked all of them. I told you guys this was all a scam,” Adam said. “Shut up Adam, no you didn’t! ''We’ve come too far!” ''Chase replied. “I’m sure one of them is haunted,” Toby asserted.
As they were sorting through the pile Richard noticed a new game at the bottom: Castle Wolfenstein. A crackle of thunder was heard in the distance, it started to get dark outside rapidly. That game is about Nazis, Richard thought. He began to feel uncomfortable, as if a stranger was touching him in inappropriate places. “Um- have you guys tried that game?” Richard asked while pointing to it. Everyone looked down at the old Atari game. “I don’t remember ordering a Wolfenstein game,” Chase said. “Neither do I,” Wolfgang said. “We probably just forgot about it, let’s try it out,” suggested Adam. Chase, Toby, and Wolfgang agreed and began to take out E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial from the Atari and put in Wolfenstein. Allison clapped her hands which brought Richard’s attention back to her. “Is that okay we play that game? It’s about Nazis,” she said. “Yeah, yeah. It’s all good,” he replied, trying not to be a party pooper pants.
“Why don’t you read us your creepypasta to us while Chase tests out the game,” she suggested, sensing that Richard was indeed feeling uncomfortable. “Sure!” he said as he sat down next to Wolfgang on the floor.
“The Weatherman, by Richard Warner. Sally was watching the wheather channel to now the weather forecast. The Weatherman is on screen whearing a yellow raincoat and held a vary pointy umbrella. ‘If you live within this area than their is a 100% chance that you will DIE!’ the Weatherman said,” Richard paused, “Wow, I really should have proof read this.”
The thunder outside sounded closer. It was now completely black outside.
Castle Wolfenstein finally started up, Chase started to play it.
“Then, on the screan, it begun to rain hyper realistic blood! The Weatherman’s eyes turns black and he had an demonic grin. Sally screamed! She turned off the T.V and-”
The radio in the living room suddenly turned on. It was tuned in to the station 666 and started to play the song “Weatherman” by Dead Sara.
''“Addicted to the love of ourselves
''
I'm the weatherman
I tell no one else
I'm the weatherman''''
The radio said. ''
''
So go for the kill
Cause no one else cares
Go for the kill, Go for the kill
Go for the kill, Go for the kill!”''''
Allison walked over to the radio to turn it off. Everyone was dead silent. “Um, guys…” Allison said. “The radio is not plugged into the wall.” Everyone looked at each other. “Oh wait, never mind. It is plugged in.” Suddenly the lights went out. “Oh shit!” Adam yelled. ''“They make take our lives, but they’ll never take our freedom!” ''Chase shouted in a Scottish accent. “Oh God! I think my eyelids are stuck!” Wolfgang yelled. “Calm down everyone, I can get some light from my iPhone,” Allison said as she turned it on. Everyone screamed as the light from the phone illuminated the face of a large figure standing behind her. It had black eyes and a demonic, twisted, sick, and disturbing grin filled with razor sharp teeth wearing a yellow raincoat and held a pointy umbrella. It was the Weatherman.
“We've got a massive DEATH front coming up from HELL right into YOUR FACE!” it yelled as it raised its very pointy umbrella. Allison screamed as it threw the umbrella at her. Adam jumped up and pushed her out of the way resulting in him getting stabbed in the face. Adam died. ''“NEIN!'' I mean- um, no!” Richard yelled. “Oh shit, the black guy died!” Chase said. Everyone screamed and ran trying not to trip over something while the Weatherman pulled the umbrella out of Adam’s face and continued its pursuit of the surviving gang.
Richard’s shin slammed into the side of a coffee table as he was fleeing. It hurt like ballz. Chase rushed towards where he remembered his suitcase last was. He found it and pulled out a flashlight and a 9mm pistol that he brought with him because he’s a paranoid fuck. He lit the flashlight and saw the monster towering above him. He then opened fire on the Weatherman. Bullets shot right through the informational abomination and exploded out the other side like eagles of soaring freedom. ‘Murica.
The lights came back on. Allison quickly called 911 as Chase walked up to the Weatherman and popped a few more caps in its ass. After making sure it was dead, Chase checked to seeif it was carrying anything on it. Richard, Wolfgang, and Toby stood frozen. Toby was twitching uncontrollably and began to sob at the loss of his friend. Wolfgang was secretly a racist so he really didn’t care. Richard was utterly bamboozled by what the hell just happened. His creation had come to life.
Pert 3: On a Bus to Berlin
Chase had uncovered what appears to be a map from the Weatherman’s body which was now being carried away by the police. The map was leading from a big building that was shaped like something dirty located in Berlin, Germany, all the way to where Allison’s house was. There was also some text on it. “I think that’s German,” Chase said. “I don’t read German,” Allison commented. Richard was looking around him. Toby was in the corner still sobbing like a little bitch. He didn’t see Wolfgang anywhere; his grandmother probably took him home. The rest of the kids’ parents were here, except Richard’s parents who were currently stuck in traffic. Police officers and detectives were all over the place like flies to a rotting corpse. ''“Seize the day!” ''Chase shouted. Allison clapped her hands.
Allison got Richard’s attention and pointed to the map. “What do you think of it?” She asked. “Wait a minute, I know these words. ''Sieg heil! ''It’s German!” Chase and Allison’s eyes widened. “You know German?” she asked. “I do, somehow. It says-” he grabbed the map. “It says: Dear test subject Weatherman, you have been instructed to follow this map which leads to a small house in Austin, Texas, U.S.A. By the time you arrive at the location there will be six children in the house. Kill all of them except Toby Rodgers and Richard Warner. Then bring Richard and Toby back to the facility. Warm and buttery pancakes will be waiting for you upon your arrival. Be swift. Heil Hitler.”
“Oh my gosh,” Allison said. It was all beginning to make sense to Richard. He grabbed Toby who was still crying and bolted out the front door, Chase and Allison followed them. “Richard, wait! We have to give that to the police! And where are you going?” Allison yelled. “I think I know what might be going on here,” he said, “I think I know what’s waiting for me there. It’s waiting for Toby too.” “You can’t be serious. They sent a monster after us and you’re just gonna walk right into their hands?” Chase asked. “Don’t worry, I’ve read enough creepypastas to know what to do. You guys can come if you want to.” Chase and Allison both looked at each other. They reluctantly agreed and decided to go with him. “My parents are gonna kill me,” Allison said.
So the 4 meddling kids hitched a bus ride from Texas to Berlin and by the time they got to Berlin Toby had finally stopped crying. They followed the map which led to the humorously shaped facility; no one was outside the complex. They walked to the main entrance and upon entering the building they were greeted by an unfriendly surprise. There were several armed Nazi guards, too many to count, pointing their guns at the gang and towering in the center of the room was: Mecha Hitler. The doors slammed shut behind the gang because they walked into building before stopping to see what was inside it like complete fucktards. “I told you! Right into their hands!” Chase yelled.
“I had complete confidence in him; there was no doubt in my mind that he would make it here. Wasn’t I right, Anton?” ''“Ja, mein Führer!” ''A random voice from the crowd shouted. “Only someone with such pure Aryan blood as you could have killed such a monster!” Hitler said as he pointed at Richard. “Actually I kill-” Hitler interrupted Chase. “You traveled all the way here and brought Subject Toby with you as well. Excellent, my young ''Schüler. ''“Richard?” Toby said. “What is happening?” “I have been searching for you all these years ever since she left and took you with her. And then you post a story right on one of our websites? Is perfect! Good to see you again, my son,” Hitler said. A wave of shock and anger engulfed Richard much like a raging inferno engulfs a protesting Vietnamese monk.
“Wait, no. That’s fucking stupid. You’re supposed to be dead!” Chase said. “Oh right? And you’re going to tell me you believe Elvis and Tupac are dead too?” Hitler responded. It was all becoming clear to Richard, his strange Tourette’s symptoms, his ability to understand German, and some other stuff. Raging teenage angst was building up inside of him like never before. “Toby!” he yelled. “That Ticci-Toby story on the creepypasta wiki, it is of you!” “What do you mean?” Toby responded. “You’re a Nazi experiment, Toby, along with all other creepypastas. They must of made the Weatherman villain as soon as I posted the pasta and they sent it after us!” “Yes… I knew you would understand. Why did you think the grammar was usually so bad in those pastas? Because most of our research report writers can’t speak English, so they use Google translate!” “I actually thought they were quite good.” Chase said. Hitler began to charge his cannons. ''“And I’m gonna stay right here and fight for this lost cause!” ''Chase shouted. “Thanks Chase,” Richard said. “That was a tic,” replied Chase.
Allison finally broke out of her trace and spoke up. “Why did you decide to have another son?” she asked Hitler. “Well to be honest, he was an accident.” Everyone around stared at Hitler. “What? You’re saying that you never got drunk one night and knocked up a Polish prostitute?” Everyone was silent. “Um, no,” someone in the crowd said. “Anyways, she understandably fled once she realized who I was.” “Dude! Do you know what that means!?” Chase asked. “That means your mom is a hooker, and she fucked Hitler!” Chase began laughing uncontrollably. “I don’t care if I die, that’s too funny.”
Richard was shaking uncontrollably at these revelations. “Toby…” he said. “Your whole life was all a joke to these people. Are you gonna put up with that?” Richard could see it in Toby’s eyes; he had snapped and turned into a full-blown psychopath. Richard let himself go as well, and he harnessed his new super-human perks that came along with becoming a psychopathic angsty teen in a creepypasta.
Richard and Toby both tore off their shirts to reveal their ripped and muscular bodies, the guards all took a step back. Richard and Toby sprung up into the air and landed on a guard’s shoulders, they simultaneously ripped both his arms off. The guards all began frantically firing at the turned boys, but it was all in vain. They jumped from Nazi to Nazi, ripping their arms from their sockets. Bullets reflected off them like peas bouncing off a dinner plate. Allison and Chase ducked behind a nearby desk. Mecha Hitler began firing his cannons but the shots missed them and instead cannonballed right into some unfortunate Nazi guards. Every new guard that walked into the room merely supplied the boys with more arms to rip off. Richard jumped on top of Mecha Hitler, starring him directly in the eyes. “You are not my father, even though you are!” Richard exclaimed. He ripped him from his piloting seat and threw him in the air. Toby then jumped up and punched him in the back, breaking his spine like Bane did to Batman only 10 times worse.
Hitler dropped out of the air and crashed into the ground. He laid there on there on the floor, unable to move. Chase and Allison peaked their heads from behind the desk once the commotion stopped. Richard and Toby stood beside Hitler, looking down at him. “We just used the sites as cover, to talk to our other research groups around the world- ''ACK!” ''Hitler said. “We had no idea it would become popular to young people for reading purposes. They may be disguised as horror stories, but do you want to know the true horror of creepypastas?” Richard and Toby were silent. “So many people out there think our badly written ‘stories’ are actually good. The amount of fan-fictions and suggestive fan art is bamboozling. How many stupid people are there?” he paused. “Ha… I guess it is actually kinda funny… blehhhhhhh.........” Hitler died.
“Well that was weird.” Chase said. The Nazi horror was over, Richard and Toby regained their ''psychi'' and lost their super-human powers. “This place must be destroyed.” Richard said. “Oh, wait! Shouldn’t we show all of this to the authorities?” Allison asked. “They’ll just use these ungodly creations for their own purposes. Who knows what technologies exist in this place? Humanity is not ready for them.”
Chase was going to ask how he knew that but Richard had already climbed into Hitler’s mecha suit and hit the big red self-destruct button, it began to count down. “Alright guys, let’s get out of here!” Richard yelled as he jumped out of the suit. Chase grabbed a gun off the floor and shot the front door’s locks causing it to open. They ran out the humorously shaped facility as it exploded behindthem. They didn’t turn around because cool guys don’t look at explosions.
Richard had learned a lot about himself and the world from his bizarre journey. And even though he was spending his 16th birthday in his room because he was grounded, he felt as though he had become more of a man through his trails. He had grown out of creepypastas, his Tourette’s had disappeared, and his hand had finally healed. He leaded his head against his window with a new view of the outside world. He turned back to his computer trying to think of something new to watch or read. Now that he was over creepypastas, what next? There was only one logically choice, he thought. So Richard sat at his desk in front of his computer, and starting watching My Little Pony.
The End.