Intro

Here is the opening scene of the book. I had a different one in my first edit, but felt that this was more shocking and sets the tone of the overall work better. Also, there aren't actually chapters per say, rather shifts in time period and/or perspective, so sometimes there is a time change and in others the focus just changes between characters. As such, each post will be until another change occurs. Thanks again for looking! Also, in an effort to create some semblance of income from my writing I have added the adsense feature on my blog, so clicking on ads when you visit is a way for you to support my writing in an economic fashion without actually having to buy anything. Thanks! -Adam

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BOOK 1 – SILENCE

Broadcasts, electronic frequencies, lifeless images sent out into the cosmos. The screens cast a chilling glow on the darkened room, silent images of death, horrors reminding the viewer of the utter degradation of humanity. In the darkness, one such screen flickered to life, and the silent observer raises the volume. A lone woman fills the majority of the image, one hand holding her earpiece whilst speaking as even toned as she could into the microphone she clutched desperately, her only ward from the horrors that her nervousness belied but the camera did not show. Behind her a bare concrete wall, a bunker perhaps, was visible. Although the microphone successfully concentrated her voice, the harsh popping in the background static implied gunfire.

“Bonjour, this is Georgette Armantté broadcasting live from Hamburg, Old Germany. War has come finally to this city, as rival Syndicates Schweitzer and Durenberger have entered into open conflict precipitated by this morning’s kidnappings. The peace affected three years ago at the Bremen Conference was shattered as fighting erupted across Hamburg, the principle city on the border between the Syndicates’ respective territories. As we have reported, there have been numerous reports over the past few months of increased conflict in this area even before the Durenberger children’s disappearances, as relations between the rival states have been steadily diminishing, culminating in this bloody day.” The image flickered slightly as a cloud of cement dust shook loose from the ceiling. For a moment Georgette’s frail figure disappeared from the view of the camera, but after the dust settled she returned, shaken, but unharmed.

“As you can see the punctuated attacks over the past months have only been setting the stage for the open battle that is currently raging above. My crew and I are stationed in the center of the city, in a secure bunker. From the reports that we have received, it would seem that the conventionally superior Durenberger forces had successes in the morning, but as they swept through the city with their legendary armor division, the Iron Fist, they were gradually pushed to a standstill by the hit-and-run tactics of Schweitzer’s death’s hand corps. Although successfully occupying the core of the city, the line of battle has not been pushed any further, as the unconventional tactics have made continued occupation costly to the Durenberger militia.

“If you are a resident of Hamburg, it is highly advised that you leave the city immediately and seek refuge in the surrounding suburbs, which have largely been untouched by the fighting as of yet. Both sides have set up evacuee camps and are offering protection to fleeing civilians. Again, if you are a resident of urban Hamburg, it is imperative that you evacuate immediately. The Durenberger forces have been ordered to shoot on sight, in an effort to combat the Schweitzer death squads who are difficult to identify due to their lack of military uniforms and use of stealth tactics. Furthermore, if you do come across either force, do not resist, as the leadership among both parties has issued warnings stating that unarmed civilians who actively give themselves over will be afforded every leniency, but despite this, the best plan would still be to evacuate immediately and steer clear of any fighting.

“Little is known about the situation with the Durenberger children, which stands as the central impetus to open war. From what we have been able to gather, early this morning all three children, despite living in three separate homes in central Berlin, were found missing and in each bed a death’s hand knife, the symbol of the Schweitzer militia, was stuck into the pillows. Although denying anything to do with the disappearances, Lord Wilhelm has proven uncooperative in the situation and completely unwilling to allow Durenberger forces to occupy his territory in an effort to find the children. Of course, the Durenbergers decided that this lack of cooperation is tantamount to guilt, but it is just as likely that Schweitzer was reluctant to let his borders be compromised because he likely interprets the kidnapping as a ploy to invoke moral outrage at his organization and build support for invasion of his lands, which comprise the majority of the Denmark peninsula.”

The image flickered again as more dust and debris shook loose from the ceiling, but this time something was different. The reporter looked away from the camera, somewhere behind and to the side of it. Beads of sweat rolled down her face, and yet petrified she still clutched to the microphone as if it could save her from the impending doom she felt so acutely. Faintly the sounds of metal forcing itself against metal grew more distinct in the background, and a moment later the image flashed completely white, and then was filled with smoke. Coughing into the microphone, the reporter strained to see what was coming into the room.

“Please, I’m non-partisan, a… a… member of the press. I have a right to be here.” Shakily she dropped the microphone and reached into a worn olive green satchel at her side. Pulling out a bundle of papers, “Please, look, I have papers, I have clearance from both Syndicates, I work for UBS-12 in Paris…” Her pleas must have fell on uncaring ears, as her thin figure began to be pulled by invisible strings as bullets riddled her body. Dancing backwards until she was finally pressed against the wall, the popping sounds continued as the rain of bullets continued to tear her apart. At last the slaughter was complete, and suddenly she stopped jerking as though her invisible strings had been severed. Instead she slowly slid down to the floor, leaving a long arc of blood on the concrete wall. The camera was kicked and fell to the floor in a crash, the image hesitating only a moment longer before returning to a shot of a pair of wide-eyed reporters filled with horror behind their desk in the safety of a studio.

The image went dark. The silent figure brooded a moment in the darkness, and finally spoke. “Silence, Bludgeon, report.” The searing hiss of static and then faint electronic voices acknowledged the call.