A Sinister Retrial

The Adept casually looked behind him, making sure the four Skinheads in the dingy basement had their masks on, then they started the recording. He stepped backwards into focus of the camera and gestured his left hand to the militant to his side, who passed him a claw hammer. Walking in circles around a bound and gagged negro who kneeled on the concrete floor, The Adept spoke in an artificial southern drawl:

“For too long you niggers have treated the white man like a doormat, we pay to keep ye monkeys alive and what do we get in return? Shit! You rape our women, steal from our homes, and play yer shitty coon tunes on the bus! I say ‘Fuck it,’ and most of all ‘Fuck you!” His tangent came to a close, and the Skinheads walked from behind the chimp off to the edges of the illuminated spot on the floor. The Adept made one final loop, stopping behind the Negro. He looked down at his wiry head then, with all his might, swung the hammer into the side of his skull. The victim immediately crumpled. A Skinhead briskly walked across the room to the camera and took manual control, aiming it and zooming in on the carnage as the Adept bludgeoned the groid’s face into a shapeless pulp. His eyes bulged from their sockets with every swing of the Adept’s mallet, and pieces of brain leaked between cracks in his simian cranium. Eventually, the barrage of hammering stopped, and only a lecherous abscess remained where the African once had a head. The camera operator panned back up to the Adept.

“Now that was just a taste of what’s to come if you don’t get the fuck out of our country. Race War Now! Hell, it should have happened yesterday!” The Adept said as he spit on the corpse. To the skinheads, he was known as Bill Grandson. They had no idea about his true, sinister nature. These people were nothing but useful idiots in achieving the Galactic Empire, though he had seen potential in some of them that were beyond this petty role-playing they typically took part in. But that was something he’d have to address later. With a gloved hand, he removed the VHS tape from the video camera, and handed it off to one of the Nazis. The Nazi placed it into a flat-rate envelope with the address of the local news station written across the front. He would take this to the public mail box outside the gas station a few miles down the road. They had pondered releasing it to the police, but the Kikes at the media would not be able to resist contaminating any potential evidence on the tape, or making copies to release without the permission of law enforcement. With luck, the brutality of these tapes they had been making would create serious racial tensions.

Luck was indeed on this Vampire’s side, in the past week, there has been constant stories on what I had orchestrated with those Golden State Skinhead guys. That was but one of four tapes I sent the way of four different news stations, through four different mail boxes. The Black Lives Matter types were really pissed. He could see the smoke over the horizon from his home as the cities burned. In response, multiple white police officers have been ambushed and gunned down in their cruisers. One groid even decapitated a little girl and threw the head through a passing car’s windshield. Many groups that had once only spoke about violence and revolution had began doing these things. Every hour, another Klansmen or Nazi is arrested for stabbing or shooting some darkie in the street. This stuff, the Mayor, and the mixed family all contributed to a surge of hysteria and racial violence. I’ll see to it that my duty of bringing this Aeon to a close is completed. Agios O Satanas.

“Oh you’re doing such a good job, Daddy!” The Initiate said in the most elated of tones, wrapping her arms around her superior from behind as he sat at his desk. Her small, teenage frame felt warm against his lifeless body as he felt the delicious blood pump through her mortal veins. The Adept had met this idiopathic girl on the internet, and decided to get in touch due to the clear interest in the occult she had taken. This was probably in rebellion to her extremely strict-christian parents, although this no longer played a factor. He killed them, which the Initiate saw as an act of Sinister benevolence, and only made her love him that much more. Her willingness to learn, and determination to undertake any challenge he demanded, was impressive. The Adept looked back over his shoulder, and placed a cold hand on hers. Despite being only fifteen, she was a perfect specimen to breed into the final Aryan form of Homogalactica. Broad hips, blonde hair, natural athleticism, and a pain tolerance he found to be sexually invigorating. He stood, and turned to face her, embracing the much shorter girl in his arms.

The two kissed, and the Adept playfully bit her tongue as it slid about inside of his mouth. She pulled away, looking into his black eyes with a grin and licking her blood from her lips, going back in to share the fluid between them. He slid his hands from her waist, down her back, and to her ass. She was wearing a black one-piece gown cut off at the upper thigh, nothing else to impede him as he lifted it and took a handful of her youthful flesh.

“Agios O Azanigin” He said, plunging his teeth into her pale neck. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure.


Force Multipliers

Take three men of equal build and make two of them fight the third. Who wins? Give the lone man a weapon and the power balanced is shifted. This is a force multiplier. Every society utilizes force multiplers to exert power. Force multipliers can be produced on a grand scale by industrial societies. More importantly, terrorist organizations or lone wolf fighters must obtain an effective force multiplier to cause effective damage given their limited size.


This is most associated with terrorist groups. The damage of an exlosion is near instanteous meaning you can’t run off to hide from the attack. After a high explosive is set off, a supersonic shockwave propagates according to the inverse law meaning its power diminishes according to the square of the distance. Inverse Square Law.jpg

In other words, the effect of an explosion quickly decreases at distance. This can be overcome with multiple interspaced charges or increasing the amount of high explosive or a balance between the two. Targets with a high density of people is optimal, however security often is more stringent in such locations. Recent attacks by jihadists such as the Brussels bombing have utilized TATP which is a non-nitrogenous explosive making its detection more difficult. Manufacturing most explosives in high quantities is difficult, dangerous, expensive, and time consuming. ANFO is often employed when a high quantity of explosive is needed by clandestine organizations. The 1998 United States embassy bombings and Oklahoma City bombing employed ANFO in the construction of their truck bombs. The relative effectiveness of ANFO to TNT is .42 making it particularly less effective per kilagram. Furthermore, it is blasting cap insensitive and requires a larger quantity of high exlosive to set off. A clandestine organization in planning an attack should consider the difficulty of synthesizing or acquiring an explosive, an effective target (usually a soft target ie high density civilian location), and the overall construction of the bomb. Targetting infrastructure could be far more advantageous and at less risk to oneself, albeit with less shock and awe value. Basic knowledge in electrical engineering and chemistry is recommended for the production of an explosive device. Resources on the synthesis of explosives is widely found online. Keep in mind such reactions are dangerous and should be strictly controlled, and, if possible, manufactured in small quantities at a time. The difficulty of mass producing explosives is why most bombings only kill a few people. It is much more effectively employed by nation states given their industrial capacities.

This leads us to the nuclear bomb. Only possessed by a few nation states, it requires immense resources to create. Although it is theorized that a clandestine organization could manufacture a crude device. The power of the atom is vast. A typical nuclear bomb has a relative effectiveness to TNT of 900,000. If somehow total thermonuclear war did start, the world as we know it would be wiped clean.

“Bombs do not choose. They will hit everything.”
– Nikita Khrushchev
Chemical and Biological Weapons
Such weapons will theoretically leave more victims in an attack, but shouldn’t be considered unless the clandestine organization has vast resources to employ. AUM Shinrikyo had a well funded biological, chemical, and nuclear weapons division.  However, their attempts to use a WMD effectively enough to cause a catastrophic social breakdown failed. Their first sarin attack was an open air test of sorts utilizing a heater to vaporize and spread the sarin. It had relatively few causalties. The Tokyo subway attack was in a confined space, and too killed hardly anyone. Chemical agents are exceedingly difficult to safely manufacture and disseminate by small scale actors. That isn’t to say it is impossible. You can find patented synthesises and various other guides online to manufacture chemical weapons. Any slip up synthesizing and you can wind up dead or in prison for life, and it is hazardous and deadly to manufacture a nerve agent. There are various other less effective chemical agents of course, but its unlikely an attack would be as effective as cruder means. When people smell something overwhelming and or start seeing others passing out then they run. If you’d like to research the subject then this is a good place to start.
As for biological weapons, category A diseases would be difficult to cultivate. AUM attempted to use anthrax and botulinum toxin in attacks to no success. Anthrax has been used in an attack by a lone individual or clandestine group. The 2001 Anthrax attacks were successful in killing five people. Albeit this was the result of multiple attacks. A rather low causalty rate. Furthermore, it is likely it was acquired by someone with the security clearance to handle anthrax research. Altogether, not very feasible for most organizations. The subject can be investigated further in a book by the same author.
“Why pay to recruit troops and build factories to wage war and kill for you when nature will do it for free”
– Timothy Tobiason
More Convential Means
Guns are simple and effective. It doesn’t take research or really any preparation to be able to kill with a gun. If you own one you can kill with it. You will be limited by the response from people (running or in some cases fighting back), your ammo, and the response of law enforcement. In mass shootings only a few causalties occur per gunman. This still results in a more causalties than the one that will likely be endured by the gunman unless he is captured which confines him for life giving more or less the same result. It may be worthwhile considering a more prolonged approach utilizing guns. As a force multiplier they enable you to kill from distance covertly. The DC snipers instilled fear among the populace. No one felt safe and no one knew who would be next. Timothy McVeigh, most notable for his work on renovating the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building, after reading Unintended Consequences declared,
“If people say The Turner Diaries was my Bible, Unintended Consequences would be my New Testament. I think Unintended Consequences is a better book. It might have changed my whole plan of operation if I’d read that one first.”
This new plan of operation would be sniper attacks against the federal government in a war of attrition. Such attacks would be easy to acquire materials for, and wouldn’t require too specific knowledge in anything in order to carry out. A group of people could do something similar in the style of the Brabant Killers (Nijvel Gang). Another increasingly popular vector of attack is vehicular homicide. Trucks and cars have such a vital domestic purpose that it’s nearly impossible to regulate them. A 16 ton trailer traveling 80 mph into an area saturated with civilians can be more effective than a man armed with a fully automatic rifle. One of the largest mass casualty terrorist events was the Cinema Rex fire. Men doused a theater in gasoline, locked it, and set it ablaze. There are perhaps boundless more creative and practical ways to inflict mass death. Plan to do what suites your purpose in the most practical way.
“If there were a button I could press, I would sacrifice myself without hesitating, if it meant millions of people would die.”
– Pentti Linkola



I leaned against the wall in the bitter cold of my sanctuary. Diabolic, sinister shapes float by, out from the darkness as I gaze into the abysmal blackness beyond the reaches of the sparsely placed candles’ light. Across from me sits a mirror atop an altar, yes, I remember, it was here where I died. Drowning in the blood of a victim, intentionally consumed, as I gazed into the world beyond the reflective glass. The world of The Undead. Tonight, I will satiate my hunger on a living human. In the corner lays a woman with a black sack pulled over her head, hands bound behind her back, and her shirt sliced open down the middle to reveal her breasts. She writhes around in her drug induced state of sedation. I will feed upon her life forces so I can once more return to the unholy River Redlake. The only place I belong.
The Adept rubs together his pale, vascular hands attempting to warm them, a habit from a time long ago when he had living blood in his body that could warm his flesh in the first place. Now, the Adept’s blood sat still in his veins. He lumbered across the room to his prisoner, stretching out his arms and grasping her by the waist. He brought his blue lips to her breast, teething at them to bring blood to the surface of the skin, then sinking his teeth into her nipple. As his canine teeth sunk into her flushed flesh, a small trickle of blood dripped out. The iron infused scent of life energy escaping her body filled his nostrils with an aroma that made him instantly aroused. He ran his purple tongue across her breast to lap up the blood, letting it sit in his mouth to enjoy it’s delectable taste. The woman began to snap out of her coma, feeling the stranger’s cold body on top of hers, and started to kick and squirm to get away. The Adept grabbed her by the hood and pulled her to a seated position before getting to his feet behind her.
“Stand up.” The Adept said, in a raspy voice. The woman could not speak, for a ball gag was tightly wedged between her jaws. Only unintelligible groans and drool escaped her mouth. The Adept landed a swift kick to the side of her head, hard enough to inflict pain but not to bring her back into the safety unconsciousness. She was not permitted to resist his vampiric, Transylvanian hunger.
“Stand. Up.” The Adept groaned once more, and reluctantly, she did. He placed a hand on the back of her neck and walked her to a chair, folding her upper body over the back of it so that her face sat a few inches above the seat. In the seat there was a metal bowl with the sigil of Noctulius etched into it. Brown leather straps had been riveted to the backs of the chair-legs, which The Adept secured to her ankles so she could not run away. In this position, she was stuck at a mechanical disadvantage and was unable to raise her upper body vertical, not for a lack of struggling to do so. Without warning, The Adept presented a Cat o’ Nine Tails and wound his arm above his head, bringing it down onto her exposed backside. The device whipped through the air at high speed, moving so quickly it was invisible to the naked eye, only evidenced by the red lash marks that appeared with each flick of The Adept’s arm. The Woman sobbed and moaned with a mixture of sexual satisfaction and pure agony.
I rubbed my finger down her lacerated ass-cheek, then inserted it into my mouth to get a taste of some more of her sweet blood. My eyes rolled back in my head, I could not wait any longer. Ripping her hood off of her head, I took a fistful of her hair and pulled her head backward. I reached into my sheath to retrieve my knife and brought it to her throat, sticking the tip about an inch into her flesh. Blood began to pour from the wound, and I wrenched the knife from ear to ear, causing a torrent of blood to gush from her newly created orifice. Like a waterfall running into a lake, her life energy ran into the metal bowl beneath her. Her life may have left her body, but it was merely transferred outside of her body in the bowl. The red liquid’s warmth was the only way to treat the eternal coldness of being one with the dead.
Her body now lay limp, so I removed the bowl and kneeled before the mirror once again with the sinister beverage. Gazing into my black, unfeeling eyes, I raised the edge of the bowl to my lips and tilted my entire body back. The blood filled my mouth, despite two streams that ran from the corners of my lips and down to my chin. At last, warmth. As I ingested the blood, I inhaled smoothly to allow it to fill my lungs, but this time it would not suffocate me. You cannot suffocate a dead man. Lowering the bowl, I grinned into the mirror as the world I longed for came back into view. This was happiness, seeing my true homeland. Nothing in the Causal could ever compare to the beautiful horrors of the Acausal. I have ascended.
"Hark! I was not, I have become

In rapture, in vengeance, in blood

From word into flesh

From man into god"


It was a Saturday afternoon. Being a creature of habit I have a very specific routine for this day. I walk about ten minutes as I always do to the public pool. On my way I saw a pretty brunette girl walking hand in hand with her mother. She had a loose fitting yellow floral dress and pretty barbie shoes on. In her other hand she had a red lollipop which she was happily sucking on as I walked past. Her lips were stained a lovely shade of red and moistened by her treat and I couldn’t help but get a bit excited. The mother was ambivalent to my stares but walked on anyhow. I did however get a glance down her daughter’s dress right as I passed and was treated to some adorable pink nipples. The rest of the walk was uneventful, that is until I reached the pool. There was a family with three young girls unloading their car. The youngest of the girls was wearing what appeared to be a hand me down from one of her older siblings. I say this because its colors were a bit faded and it was a bit large on her. When she got out of the car she did it by crawling backwards to act cutesy. I was greeted with a view of her ass as the fabric moved about to the motions of her crawling. Her ass undulating gave me a wonderful mental picture of the whole that I will cherish later on tonight.

I continue on into the pool area and take my usual swim. I always make sure to bring goggles to glance at the younger women, should I say girls, in the pool while I swim my laps. Pretty white flesh bounding up and down in the swimming area. Their legs and lovely tight asses on display for my eyes. It’s all quite overwhelmingly arousing but I am careful to not get attention for my pedophilic tendencies. I always bound my dick to my taint with electric tape so as to avoid getting an unwanted erection. After my laps comes the main course.

The pool was designed by a group of afffirmative action hires on behalf of an overly representative jewish city council and as such it had a glaring design flaw. The shower area was in view of the door and by positioning oneself at a steep angle one could see a glimpse behind the shower curtain. I make sure there aren’t people nearby and slowly walk. I get lucky and in the first shower I see a young blonde girl with pretty pale skin. Her complection is a bit strange given the recent heat. She must be a sheltered child. She is obviously pampered. She has some nice healthy fat to her ass and mildly puffy cheeks. This is lasting babyfat given that her body itself is quite slender. She rinses her hair turning slightly to put her flat chest and dainty pink nipples on display. They were noticeably hard, perhaps from the water being cold in the showers. She accidentally knocks her shampoo bottle on the floor behind her and bends over to grab it putting her vulva and asshole just in my view. By the way she was bending it was slightly open and you could see its pink youthful interior. I was however rudely interrupted by the sound of footsteps beginning to round the corner. I walk off to my own designated changing room careful to not draw attention to myself.




A Soyish End

The following was submitted by a Sinister Vampire: Vincent Snyder

Jake Hanrahan and Ali Winston were writing an article about Atomwaffen Division one late winter night until Jake was typing as fast as he did, accidentally knocked over his soylent drink all over his pants and shirt! “OH NO!” said Jake, Ali looked over as said “Okay Jake, I’ll help you clean up!” and Ali came back with a roll of paper towels to clean the soylent off of him, “Why don’t you take your shirt and pants off?” said Ali, Jake was confused but it made sense since they were all wet with soylent but then something really weird happened, Ali took out a camera and said “Why don’t we take a picture to commemorate the day we spilled the soylet,? Come on Jake, it will be cute memory uwu!” and Jake was even more confused until Ali said “It’s alright, all the other reporters do it!” and she handed Jake a bunch of pictures of all the male reporters and they were all naked! Jake Hanaran had a millimetre peter boner at that point until his chastity cage stopped it. Now here’s the real hard part to talk about, Ali fisted Jake’s ass so dry and there was blood all over and since Ali never washed her hands, Jake got AIDS and was about to die in a couple months. What Ali did was was wrong, and it’s called sexual abuse.


The following text you are about to read has been submitted by the Leader of the Hotaru-chan Nexion: Omar Gaddafi

I, Omar, came home from school one night after quite a long day. My anger was peaking as I walk into my room and hear my mom scream “OMAR COME DOWN HERE YOU LITTLE NIGGER!”. I saw my brother bringing home his gay-ass friends, and my mom goes “OMAR, I WANT YOU TO SIT WITH THESE GUYS YOU FAT LONER FUCK!”. My brother responded,“Ugh, mom! Not again!” as she goes “Omar has no friends. You guys better let him sit with you little shitbag”. They were playing Fortnite. My cousin, who once molested me, exclaimed, “Why do we have to keep this weirdo with us?”, and my brother sarcastically replied,“Yeah, let’s get that little autistic shit!” as they chase me upstairs into my room. I sat down and cry, holding my pillow. Eventually, I see a figure enter my room. I look at her, it’s Sayaka Miki.

I was amazed. “Sayaka?”, I asked. She was like an angel to me, I was in awe until she opened her mouth and said, “Don’t be afraid Omar”. “Omar, let me explain. Homura has used her magical girl powers once again and has transported me into this timeline, because in an alternative timeline, you held me when Kyousuke rejected me and we became friends. When Homura told me that you were in a timeline and wanted to see me, legit, I seriously kinda, rushed over. Who wronged you, Omar? Whoever he is, I’ll give him a real kicking!”. I was astonished. Seeing my own waifu from another timeline come here and talk to me? “S-Sayaka.. I..” I said. “No need to explain. Wanna watch some anime together?” replied Sayaka. I turned on my computer and logged on to see a shit-tonne of porn ads pop up. “Fucking malware” I exclaimed. Sayaka responded “I’ll live with you from now on, but I’ll have to bring the rest of the magical girls along here. Can Madoka, Homura, Mami and Kyoko live with us too?”. “Yeah totally!” I replied. I feel an unbelievable happiness surge within me and a pulsating rush of blood in my erectile area as I hold Sayaka’s, soft, smooth, delicate hands and tell her “Sayaka, I know this sounds strange, but I love you. I’ve loved you for years and I’ve always wanted to seriously marry you”. Sayaka exclaimed, “Well, I know you have strong feelings for me… I know how you feel. We have so much in common. But, for now, I just wanna.. get to know you if you know what I mean. I know you love video games, and anime, and music, too…”. I say “He’ll Yeah!”. “I love those things too, Omar!”. I see how selfless she is, and deep down, know how superficial I was compared her. We both seem to have similar personalities. We’ve always talked and talked, and she would always takes me into my room. We both rest upon the bed, as I put my hand on her shoulder and say “Sayaka…” in a soft tone. “Yes?” she replies. “I really love you..” I confessed. “I want to seriously marry you.”
Years pass as I age to 18, although since she’s an anime girl, she doesn’t age.
“Sayaka…” I say, scratching my black beard. “Yeah, Omar?” she replies. “I want to marry you, now”. She replies,“For real, Omar? You told me that when you were 14, but I never knew your feelings were this strong”. I responded to her, “My feelings are strong. My parents have given me numerous opportunities to marry an Arabian oil princess, and I’ve felt the need to turn them down, for you… Sayaka. My parents now know you now, and they trust that you and I can marry”. I bring Sayaka home and call my parents. My parents prepare some Arabian coffee, as we all sit on the table. I ask my dad, “Dad, can I marry Sayaka?” He looks at me and says “Well, you do love her. I think you deserve to have such a soft, plump, juicy little girl”. Sayaka bounces up and down in joy, and kisses me on the cheek. “Yay! Yay! Yay! I’m so happy I finally get to marry you, Omar!”.

The ceremony happens, and Sayaka dresses herself in a beautiful, nimble but elegant marriage gown, as I dress myself in a suave polka dot tuxedo. All her friends were there, and so was all my family. All of the magical girls came. Madoka’s parents came as well. Sayaka was so happy that day, and we have had 20 kids, and live happily ever after. Sayaka was finally happy with someone, but suddenly, Kyubei came back from the depths from whence he came.

“You cannot escape your fate. You know that all magical girls cannot live past their prime and you made a deal with me Sayaka.”

“You traded your soul to form a soul gem, the source of your magical powers. If you do not hunt witches to gather hope an magical energy, you will be succumbed to impurity. When soul gems become too tainted with despair, you will become a witch Sayaka!”

Sayaka, who was shocked by this sudden revelation, became too disillusioned with the current state of the world, fell into an inescapable despair that turned her into a witch. Madoka, Homura and Kyoko all magically transformed and battled the Witch-form of Sayaka.


The following is an anecdote of an insight role recently taken by White Rabbit

I  stepped into the apartment, dropping my bag on the dining table and looking around. It was uninhabited, and I broke into it the night before to make sure it had a good view of the street five stories below. I strolled over to the window and ripped the cord on the blinds downward, causing them to shoot up and illuminate the room with sunlight. Yes, four hundred yards down the road this building sat at the end of, was the city hall. The mayor was about to leave for the day, and that mundane prick would be my primary target for this afternoon. An old table remained in the apartment, which I dragged into the middle of the living room. Carefully, I positioned the table five feet back from the window and climbed atop it, going prone and making sure I could still see over the edge of the window frame, down onto the front entrance of the city hall. I unzipped the back pack and slid out the upper receiver for an AR 10 rifle, wearing a large scope and bipod, and setting it in front of me. Again I reached into the bag and pulled out the lower receiver, extending the stock and mating it up with the upper. I pushed the two take-down pins closed with a satisfying click, unfolded the bipod, and removed the scope caps. Now it was time to wait.

The Adept slid a twenty-round magazine of 168 grain Sierra Matchkings into the rifle, then chambered a round with a clack that echoed throughout the living room. Realising he had almost forgotten, he reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a suppressor, threading it onto the muzzle. He wedged the stock into his shoulder and found a comfortable position. His tired, empty eyes gazed calmly through the magnified optic, stirring the reticent ever so slightly from left to right as to prevent his eyes from straining too much. He glanced down at the inside of his wrist to check the time: It was just after 6pm, the Mayor should be leaving soon. After a couple more minutes, he saw the gaggle of crooked politicians shuffle out of the building in a large group. Focusing the optic on the faces of all of them, he quickly found his mark. The fat Hebrew man reached into his pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes, gesturing for his congregation of kikes to wait up for him. The Adept squeezed the trigger, and with a crack about the sonority of a car door slamming, the projectile sped towards the Mayor.

The elevation was perfect, but the wind-age was somewhat off and the bullet missed it’s mark. His hooked nose exploded into chunks of cartilage and blood. The bullet continued, finding it’s way into the chest of a negro judge, causing him to fall backwards and seize up on the pavement. The Mayor began to scream, clutching his face and stamping his feet in agony as he tried to feel the damage that had been done to his face. But before the mayor could realise what was going on, another two rounds perforated his flesh. The first hit him in the side, making his knees buckle. His wife grabbed him to try and assist him just as the second boat-tail hollow-point struck his dome. His brains became vile mush as if they had been thrown into a blender, and a stream of skull fragments and gore shot violently from the exit wound, which covered his partner. She followed him to the ground and knelled at his side, sobbing and shaking him to try and get him to wake up. She had completely lost all composure, and did not comprehend that the brains he needed to respond to her were now all over the sidewalk. But this emotional duress would no longer be a concern, as a fourth shot rang out and hit her in the throat. She fell onto her back and clutched her throat, which had been torn to pieces. Sobbing and moaning, she tried to crawl over to her fallen husband to embrace her lover one more time in her last seconds, but she was denied this. Just as she reached out to touch him, she bled to death. Before the lights went out, she had to experience failing her final wish of spending her last moments in her husband’s arms. This made the Adept smile just thinking about it. He thought about all the Aryans who had died estranged from their lovers in Jewish wars, or the Volksturm and Waffen-SS who had to fight on top of the corpses of their wives and daughters in Berlin.

Gleefully, I broke my rifle back into two halves and crammed it into the bag, making sure to pick up the four casings off the floor. Didn’t want to leave behind too much evidence. I dropped the blinds as I donned my backpack and peeked out the door. The hallway was still empty, as people were probably either looking out the window at the carnage or calling the police. Luckily there were roofers at work atop the apartment building, and the sound of nail guns tacking down shingles made my gunfire much less distinct. Locking the door behind me, I sprinted down the hall and into the emergency stairwell, looping around and down the steps almost fast enough to dizzy myself. At the bottom of the stairwell was a fire exit, the alarm would sound if I opened the door, but my car was directly outside, so I didn’t worry too much. Sirens flooded the apartment, fading out as the door slammed behind me. I casually walked across the street, pulling my hood over my head and looking down to conceal to pedestrians on either side of the alley my masked face. I got in my car, tossing my bag into the back seat, and drove at a moderate speed out onto the road. As anxious as I was, giving into the temptation to speed would only attract attention to myself. Instead, I relied on blending in with the hundreds of other cars on the road for safety.I’m going to have to get back to the sanctuary as soon as possible, there’s still so much more work to be done.