WunderWeaponWar-The Ultimate StoryThreadTheory

[MyLittleHellhound]

Wunderbar Weapons Make Wunderbar Victories!

A short introduction-

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ENABLED/FILE ERASED///

PLNB Transmission XX087R-XX

Encryption Code: Gamma

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From: CODE NAME-COALMINER

To: CODE NAME- SURGEON

Subject: They’re back.

Classification: TOP SECRET-EYES ONLY-(SECTION THREE X-RAY DIRECTIVE)

MyLittleHellhound reporting here on March 10th 2012 from the frontlines where *static* there’s a German assault force incoming and the Americans *explosion* Oh shit! Did you see that! Woah! Someone just exploded over there! Get over here! Watch out incomi-*crackle of electricity* what the hell is going on! I-*scream* The Germans have something new. Something…….energizing. It…it just *static* military heavy ordnance is inbound and F-22s just passed over the city! Over here, over here, stay in cover John do yourself some good *crackle- gunshots* The Germans seem to be advancing and *scream* Sorry about that a shot of electricity just passed by my head. Wait a second. Take cover! This is MyLittleHellhound reporting from-*explosion* *rapid-fire German* What? Shit!-*static* *scream*

Hey y’all, just a little intro there. Anyways, this is my first HUGE thread. I have been working on it for some time now, a long long time in fact. I decided to try this type of thread and the topic was a perfect opportunity to test it in the field and community. This thread will be a mix of story and theory well mostly story, but you will get the idea of if Wunder Weapons were mass produced and distributed through the military. Please keep in mind that all my information may not be right. Plus, Ehjookayted gets some credit, as well as xAvengedLullabyx for helping me with this.

Note: Not all pictures are mine. Only the screenshots. Not the pictures of the Guns.

If people like these kinds of threads, I will continue doing them. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it, for you guys to read.

I PRESENT TO YOU-

A WUNDERBAR FIC

United States Of America-Wake Island-Winter’s Howl

America has found a way to reproduce the Winter’s Howl en masse. They distribute the weapon throughout their forces; it becomes as common as the BAR or the Thompson. They believe it will change the tide of war for them in the ongoing conflict against the Japanese, since that first disastrous day. One of the first batches of the Winter’s Howl goes to the Americans on Wake Island. They manage to repel the first attack while waiting for the supplies. Already, flies settle on the newly fallen corpses, brushed slightly by the blue ocean. Superiors, the Top Brass, tell the soldiers it will help them survive, so “stay frosty”. So when the Sergeant first takes out this new gun, he wonders what it is. He presses the trigger, and a blast of ice and snow shoots out of the barrel, coating a tree. It stays frozen for 5 minutes. The ice seems particularly hard and brittle, but not easily breakable. At least 300 of these are shipped to Wake Island, and the Japanese have no idea of what they are running into. The Japanese land on Wake Island and expect the Americans to surrender. But they don’t. The Americans return fire with M1 Garands, Thompsons, as well as the Winter’s Howl. Japanese men are frozen in their tracks, literally. Banzai charges become ineffective against the ice. Planes and trucks crash and dozens more soldiers are killed. Ice coats the island, melting in the hot sun. One Imperial soldier, Murai, watches in horror as his men are slaughtered. They slip and hurt themselves on the ice; it coats their supplies and mechanics. Another soldier cries out as a blast of ice freezes his hand, the limb cracking off in one bullet. The man screams and hot blood sizzles on the ice. Another is frozen solid, not even time to scream.

Murai charges at the American line, bloodthirsty. The ground is too slippery and he falls, striking his head. In the sky, a Japanese plane is hit with ice, the propeller stuttering to a halt and the pilot dying a cold, hard death. They are stuck without help. The Japanese give up after days of assault, having lost most of their men to a weather condition they never thought they would run into. At the end of the day, hundreds of Japanese lay dead on the sand. The ice slowly thaws, giving way to the heat. Among them are a couple, but not at all many, Americans. The Japanese fail to secure Wake Island, and the Americans, using their new found Winter’s Howl, quickly eliminate the Japanese threat, the Winter’s Howl cutting through their defenses like butter.

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Russia-Battle Of Berlin -Thundergun

The massive Russian war machine marches on towards Berlin. The bristling wall of guns in Berlin was a sight to behold. Although vastly outnumbered, the Germans would put up a good fight. At least 3000 men have been distributed a new weapon, the Thundergun. Men hoist it with ease, a fearsome weapon for the enemies. The Germans rub their eyes, wondering what this could possibly be. They are already outnumbered in tanks, men, and artillery. The battle begins. A million Russians slam into the German defense, fighting for every street, every house. A bloodbath ensues. Thousands die on each side. You are a German soldier, fighting alongside a pair of men with anti-tank weapons behind a makeshift barricade. Firing your MP40, the gun rattles in your hands as you gun down a group of Russians sprinting for cover. They fall in the street, bleeding from torsos and limbs. Suddenly a huge gust of air throws you across the street and leaves you broken and your friends crimson splats on the wall. You look up through teary eyes as the man holding the Thundergun turns and fires again, five men thrown like ragdolls bouncing off the cobblestone. Their faces are frozen in complete surprise as they crumple against cold stone, bones snapping, and skin ripping. The Russian man turns again, this time towards a tank. The men scramble to get inside and seal the hatches before he fires the Thundergun but alas, one man is stuck, his shirt caught on one of the hooks. He frantically tugs at it, trying to seal the hatch, pleading for mercy, when the man fires. The gust of air rips his body in half, his upper torso, arms, and head sailings away to bounce down the street. His lower half sinks, and spurts blood. Intestines sit like bloated worms, and blood runs free. It is a deadly and gruesome weapon, and many more Germans die this way. Russia barely loses men after this, and they cut through the German’s defenses even easier. Sonic booms and screams of injured men become a common sound. The Russian flag soon flies over Berlin......

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Japan-Battle Of Okinawa-Ray Gun

After countless defeats, the Japanese Army is ready to surrender. The Imperial Army musters its final men, boys, and people to fight the large American force coming for them from the ocean. Arisakas, Type 99s, Type 100s, and bayonets are the main weapons of the ragtag army. The Japanese are fearful for their survival. Will the Americans spare their people? Suddenly, high ranking officers appear at the frontlines. They are handing out what looks to be a child’s toy. It is the Ray Gun. Improved from the first designs, this Ray Gun had more stopping power and ammo, reloading through little circular bottles it seems. The Americans expect a short battle as their amphibious transports land the beach and their Navy pounds the island caves and jungle. Suddenly, streaks of green and red slash the air and vehicles burst into flames. Men are vaporized on the spot without time to scream as the Americans realize that the Japanese have something deadly in their hands.

Sergeant Morrison shouts at his squad, who is taking cover behind a group of rocks. Scully, the sniper, pokes his head up, and his head is replaced by a fine mist of blood. Morrison swears as the Japanese counterattack with waves of men and a barrage of energy pistols. Morrison is thrown back and gutted by a Japanese bayonet, through his darkening vision he witnesses the death of his squad. His riflemen, Howie and Harrison are fighting back to back. The green energy tears into Howie’s legs, and they are replaced by bloody stumps. The man screams out and falls to the ground, cradling his ruined legs. He is pounced upon and stabbed to death. Harrison is still shooting his rifle, batting away Japanese soldiers. One of them jumps on him with an energy pistol, and Harrison slices his stomach. The soldier still points the gun and fires point blank, obliterating both of the men’s heads and the smell of charred flesh fills the air. The command does not know what the hell is going on. They panic, and try to take back the land they claimed already. The Allied forces are falling back rapidly, turning to run back to the boats. Many are shot in the back and vaporized, that, or they fall with holes the size of dinner plates in their chests. Corpses lie across the battlefield, and burning vehicles send up oily black smoke. The Japanese battleship Yamato prepares for a broadside as it reaches Okinawa to aid its country. The US Aircraft Carrier, name unknown, launches airplanes, but something unexpected occurs. The Yamato fires a huge turret, the Ray Cannon, sending deadly fingers of red energy through the air, and vaporizes the planes. Dozens of men are killed in the splash damage, the energy tearing through battle plate and flesh alike. Alarms can be heard from the island as the US Carrier realizes maybe this was not such a good idea. The Yamato fires again, this time at her starboard. Energy carves and burns its way through the decks, wrecking everything. Some splash damage hits the ammo dump, resulting in a fiery explosion. Americans try to abandon ship, but Japanese planes strafe the decks, puncturing flesh with machine gun fire. The US Carrier sinks and oil burns on the water. There are no survivors. 3 other US Battleships end up this way, returning to the bottom of the ocean as twisted and burnt husks of mighty metal, as the Yamato turns its attention to the now motherless escaping amphibious boats. There is no hope for them. Men clamber out of the floating vehicles as another variant of the Ray Gun, the Ray Turret, chatters away. Blips of green energy tear men and the metal apart, mere puffs of fire from the island shores. Okinawa is lost for the Americans, and the Japanese know that they can now win this war.

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Germany-Battle of Stalingrad-Wave Gun/Zap Gun

The officer stands on his Panzer Tank next to some soldiers. They are guarding something precious, watching every move of the line of soldiers in front of them. Behind them are crates, labeled “PRECIOUS: KEEP UPRIGHT”. The Wehrmacht are making a final push to take Stalingrad, the most important city for the Red Army. Hitler is assured that this will be over in a few weeks but that is too long. He orders H.Porter to devise a gun similar to the early Japanese Ray Guns, which have proven successful against the Americans. After endless hours, Porter reveals his project, the Wave Gun. It can be configured in two parts. Combined, and separate. The separate is a dual wield weapon that shoots a bolt of electricity and a ball of energy similar to the Ray Gun. The combined fires a purple beam that bloats and expands the flesh of up to three dozen enemies. The officer dressed in a trench coat pries open the crates, eager for the new weapons. He lifts it out carefully, examining the strange looking thing. In his hands are two devices that are similar in shape but not in color. One soldier, Adler, is handed one of each. He is puzzled, and the officer gives everyone a short tutorial. The officer then does something strange. He snaps the guns together to combine them, and fires it. The purplish beam hits a group of sheep and they bloat, twisting out of shape. The sheep then explode in a ball of wool and fine blood. Gross. The SS Officer nods with satisfaction, and gives his final orders. In the horizon, Stalingrad awaits. “Stoppen nicht bevor der stadt entnommen ist. Hinterlassen keine überlebenden!” the officer shouts. He salutes. “Heil Hitler!” The assault has begun.

Winter is in full force, the driving blizzards making it difficult to see the damned reds. Adler ducks behind a market stall as the rat-a-tat of machine gun fire splinters the wood and grazes his shoulder. Adler yells in pain, and pulls out the Zap Gun. This is the detached form of the two. Behind him, a German mortar crew lies dead, ripped apart by the blockade ahead. Their blood pools and stains the snow. With a cry, Adler fires both at the Russian Machine Gun crew. They are hit, one man flopping backwards without a head. The other is struck by the electricity, dancing like a marionette before he falls limp, smoking. Another barrage of rifle fire, this time from a nearby alleyway. Adler peeks then ducks in cover as a blast of air throws chunks of brick and a screaming and broken German soldier at him. Shit! They have Thunderguns! Adler fires the combined form, the Wave Gun, at the group of men in the alleyway. The purple beam strikes, expanding the flesh of the men. They try to scream as their flesh bubbles and bloats, before exploding with a wet splat. The alley runs red with intestines and tattered flesh.

Across the city, Petr is taking cover. The damned fascists had a new weapon, decimating their support. Across from him, his comrades were mere organs spread like butter across the ground. Petr lifted his Thundergun and gasped as a bolt of energy sizzled on his right side, carving a piece of flesh from him. He fell, clutching his side. The flesh was smoking and blackened. The Germans vaulted over the blockade, weapons at the ready. One saw Petr, clutching his side. He lifted the Wave Gun, looked which like a big rifle, and fired. The purplish beam didn’t feel like anything to Petr. Suddenly Petr felt like someone dumped burning oil on him. He contorted to impossible shapes, twisting and bending. His skin split like sausages and his lips exploded like overly-ripe bananas. Petr couldn’t feel anything but pain. He tried to scream, but it never came out. Petr exploded, showering the soldiers with blood. Stalingrad fell after that, the Russians unable to counter the new weapons the Wehrmacht used. Days later, Stalingrad hoists the Swatiska and the German war machine rumbles on….

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Germany-The Battle Of Aachen-31-79 JGb215

“Listen up! You,” the German officer drawled, “are tasked with defending the city of Aachen. Ze Allies must not pass into the Ruhr Basin or we will be done! Any questions?"

“Nein!” the soldiers roared.

“Good. Very good. Prepare yourselves! Ze Allies draw ever near……”

The city of Aachen was a well fortified one indeed. It had row upon row of pillboxes, barbed wire, 230,000 fresh faced and veteran German soldiers, tanks, extensive minefields, dragon’s teeth, and lots of ammunition. The city was not a strategic gem, nor a powerhouse for weapons. It was merely the first city to be assaulted on German soil. This wasn’t any defense. This was the defense of their homeland, and the site of the First Reich. Hitler had given orders to defend it-at all costs.

“Y’all better be on your toes! The assault begins in one hour! One hour!” The commander yelled over the shrieking and calamity of the artillery.

Men dressed in green stood in rows, thousands of them. They were armed to the teeth with grenades, guns, and plenty of ammo. Tanks sat like hulking behemoths in the crows, guns raised. Planes flew overhead, carrying their payload to be unleashed upon Aachen.

Ryan prepared himself mentally and physically for the fight ahead. The city burned and smoke rose from a thousand fires as the Allie’s planes veered off to let the troops fight. And then they attacked. Ryan leapt from his foxhole with a battle cry, as did hundreds of other soldiers. Artillery crews loaded and fired as fast as they could, hoping to soften up the infamous Siegfried Line. Suddenly, the ground in front of Ryan exploded, the two men in front of him disappearing in the cloud of fire and smoke. He was thrown backwards onto the muddy ground, and struggled to get back up. Bullets crisscrossed the battlefield, cutting down men, exploding tanks, shredding buildings, and arcing into the sky. The fight to the walls of the city was a bloody one. Ryan ran for the wall, ducking and weaving as bullets whizzed by, cutting down anyone in a shower of blood who couldn’t move fast enough. He slid and adjusted his helmet, wincing as the whistle of an artillery shell signaled the end for another couple men. Ryan popped up from the cracked concrete wall and fired a couple shots from his Carbine. The German man fell, three bullets buried in the wall behind him. He swore as a German MG crew returned fire, chipping away at his cover. The bullets found their target, a young man who screamed and was instantly pulped by the heavy rounds. The man next to him, (they called him Bacon) threw an arcing grenade that landed in the MG pit. Ryan barely heard the frenzied German before the loud explosion rattled his teeth. An arm sailed over the wall, landing in the mud with a soft *squish*. Ryan climbed over the smashed wall and over the mutilated corpses, jamming on his trigger. A pair of officers fell beneath the Carbine, bleeding from multiple bullets. The building down the street collapsed in a shower of dust and rubble, burying a Panzer tank and several men beneath the brick and twisted metal. More Americans rushed in through holes in the enemy line, but took heavy casualties. Men fought with knife and gun alike, shooting and stabbing on sight.

The trenches and pillboxes burned, hundreds of bodies lighting up like matches. Ryan fired off more shots, hitting men left and right. Bodies were flung in the streets, smoking or bleeding. Pools of blood glistened. He soon ran out of ammo, and picked up an MP40. Suddenly, a green crackle of electricity streaked by his shoulder and he turned to look. It hit a man, spreading to the others like electricity. A flash of light and they were…babies? What the hell? They had huge heads and were waddling around in their uniform, looking like mini American soldiers. But that’s what they were. Germans hiding in the nearby building ran up to them and kicked them, smashing in their skulls and effectively but brutally killing them. Ryan jumped out, shooting two of the Germans, and blowing off their legs. The other turned to run, but he threw a knife, which arced and embedded itself in his skull. He fell down, dead. Ryan paused to take in the situation of the battle. All around him, men were turned into babies, bodies flying everywhere as the Germans booted them away. Many men, like Ryan, had just turned to stop and stare. Then they saw the gun. It was an intricate piece of work, complete with a snarling creature, wires, and flickering components. The gun lit up, firing off another round. It hit another group of Americans, who shrunk and turned into useless babies. Overhead, Allied planes were shot down and exploded in glittering chunks of metal. Black smoke covered the sky and countless fires went unchecked. Hundreds if not thousands of baby bodies and babies wandered the streets, aimless. German and American bodies alike littered the streets, blood spattered every single wall, and bullet holes punched in every building. Ryan turned a corner of an alleyway, walking into a bullet. It tore through his upper leg, exiting in a shower of bone. He screamed, returning fire and cutting down the rifleman. The shots from his Carbine ripped through the man’s shoulder, crippling his aim. A roar of a plane drowned out all other sounds as it was shot down, slamming into the street nearby. A fireball gushed down the street, charring everything in its path, including the soldier Ryan just shot. The cockpit skidded down the cobblestone, shooting up sparks, and through teary eyes, Ryan could see babies in pilot uniforms. Great. They were shooting the guns at their planes! He heard the fallback whistle over the screams and the roar of fire. Shit. Ryan tried to stand up, but cried out. His leg buckled underneath his weight, sending him sprawling to the ground. A German officer wheeled the corner, holding one of those shrink guns. It hummed and sparked with energy. Ryan pressed the trigger, but the dreaded ‘click’ was the only thing that he could hear. The officer kicked his gun away, and fired the shrink gun. Ryan felt no more.

The soldier that had just tried to defy him was now a tiny little baby, waddling around on the cobblestone. He gave the gun to a nearby soldier, and kicked the baby. Hard. It went sailing over the ramparts and hit a brick building. SPLAT. Almost every single Allied soldier was dead. Good. The officer took back the gun, and ejected the now empty rounds. He inserted more with a rhythmic “clack”. Aachen was little more than a smoking ruin, but in a few weeks, so would London.

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United States Of America- Battle Of The Bulge- Scavenger

The sniper squad spread out amongst the forest like ghosts, flitting between the dark and dappled foliage. Overhead, planes swept through the sky and tanks crushed the grass as the Germans and Allies clashed. The lead sniper signaled, and the soldiers went to their respective positions. The leader, Potts, settled down in the bush, sighing as he lifted his scope to his eyes. The Panzer Tanks were on their way to flank the infantry. Damn.

“Snipers. We have a new target. Fire at will.” Suppressed squeaks were the only sound that traveled to his ears as the lead Panzer tank exploded in a shower of fire and metal. The German soldiers wheeled around, confused. They spotted a sniper, Jaunkalns maybe, and their faces contorted in hate. But he never got to see. Jaunkalns put a bullet in one and it exploded, killing the others in a shower of shrapnel. They lay bleeding on the ground, unable to call for help, choking in their own blood and bone. In a short matter of seconds, the convoy had been reduced to burning metal and shattered corpses. Men screamed in the distance, and a radio shrieked. Potts looked at his sniper rifle, the Scavenger. Damn efficient. Exploding bullets. Compact. Easy to use. Slim. Potts signaled to the team. It was time to move. They were supposed to take out a camp just past the Allied line. The squad crept across the field past the rotting bodies. Suddenly, a *creak*. Potts snapped his Scavenger up just in time to target a German SS Officer, who was trying to surrender. The bullet entered his chest and exploded, tearing his torso apart. The SS Officer flopped back into the tank, missing a lot of blood and showing ribcage. “Let’s move.” Potts ordered. A couple miles away, the Army Group B was getting hammered. Drescher cowered in the grass, taking cover behind a jeep. The officer in it was dead, shot by one of those things the Americans possessed. They hit you and then exploded. It got 5 of his teammates in one explosion. The German army was falling back. Drescher raised his Kar98k, hoping to get a bead on one of the snipers in the trees above, but ducked as a bullet whizzed by his head and embedded itself in the dirt. Drescher swore and sprinted for cover, again. Moments later the dirt exploded and shrapnel flew. Drescher was hit in the back, sharp metal piercing his skin. He screamed, rolling around in the dirt as his back bled. A medic rushed over to him, covered in blood. He squinted as the medic took a bullet through the eye, his whole face contorting in shock. The medic slumped and subsequently exploded, taking Drescher with him to the grave. Potts, meanwhile, had his squad positioned by one of the last batch of oil barrels the Germans so desperately needed to fuel their tanks. There were multiple SS guards, but they wouldn’t pose a problem now that the Scavenger was in full production. Potts took aim, and fired. The bullet entered his chest with a *squish*, and promptly exploded. The man in the uniform became chunks of meat. The other SS soldiers turned to fire at the bushes but were cut down before they could press the triggers. Their bodies naturally became meaty chunks too. A tattered SS cap fluttered from the air, thrown by the explosion. It landed on Potts’s boot and he spat on it, kicking the thing away. Soon after the placement of “Scavenger” Teams, the Allies pushed the Germans back, until finally, they won the war.

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Germany-Leningrad -Wunderwaffe DG-2

“Psst. Amsel. Over here.”

The roaring of the bombers nearly drowned out his words. Amsel squinted ahead and saw his squad leader, crouching in the clearing. The rest of the squad was busy, making a perimeter, and setting up mortars and landmines.

“The General wants us in position here,” he said, pointing to different spots on a map, “but first we need to recon the city of Leningrad. It is the city we are currently about to siege. Are you ready?”

“Yes sir.”

"Good, we move in 40 minutes. Get your gear together.”

40 minutes later, the German Army had mobilized and was ready to go. Panzer tanks rumbled to the front and prepared to fire their main cannons. Men set up huge artillery pieces that would fire down on the city, night after night. The only thing different though, was some glowing canisters. Electricity jumped in them and boy were they bright. The canister was about the size of a small ammo crate, maybe a bit bigger. It was made of very delicate glass, with a metal rim and lining. A soft sizzling sound could be heard.

“Gentlemen. Let me tell you something. What we are about to drop on Leningrad is a test. It is a bomb with over 600 amperes of contained electrical energy. When this shatters, electrical energy is released in a single wave that will electrocute, disable, or otherwise COOK anyone or anything in an 8 meter radius. We will drop these before the assault, so if you see an electrocuted Red, he’s probably dead.”

Amsel gulped and cradled his rifle. The siege of Leningrad was an important one. It was the first step to striking the heart of Russia, and the Führer would have their heads if they didn’t complete their objective.

“You are being issued a new weapon to aid you my friends. The Wunderwaffe DG-2. It is a rifle, and a lucky half of you will receive this new weapon. It has been fully tested, I assure you, and it will not explode in your hands like those ungainly rifles you have there. It fires a chain of electricity that will KILL anything in its path. The electricity will also jump to other enemies nearby, making it all the more efficient.”

Amsel looked at the gun with a mixture of contempt and awe. This thing looked and probably was way too complicated. There were wires sticking out everywhere, unnecessary lights on the gun, all these random things. It could get caught on your clothes. There wasn’t even room for a bayonet! All the same, it would kill. And that was what mattered.

In the city nearby, Leningrad, the civilians and soldiers prepared for a siege. They toiled under the murky sky, constructing barbed wire, concrete barricades, fortifications, and setting up machine guns. They knew the Germans could not get past or they would all die. Andrei rushed past and set up his sniper rifle in the nearby hotel. The metal pressed against his cheek as he found his target. There. A German recon squad, using binoculars, the glare clear on his scope. Sneaky bastards. Andrei steadied his breathing, letting out a slow wheeze in the cold air. A resounding *crack* split the German open like a watermelon and the rest went scattering for cover. And then he saw them. Row upon row of Panzer tanks, sitting in the cold air, guns aimed at the city. Thousands of German troops, with the standardized weapons. And then some. A blue crackle of electricity flared up on his scope. He swiveled his sniper, and took a closer look. Damn. The fascists had a new weapon after all! He was about to shout down at his fellows, just as the Panzer tanks and artillery started to shell the damn place.

“Fire! Fire all batteries! All Panzers fire!” the officer shouted. He strode up and down the line shouting orders. Amsel winced at the sound of artillery and collapsing buildings. The whistle blew and the man behind him shoved forwards, catching Amsel in the back. “Go! Fight!”

The first shells sail over the wall and slam into a nearby office building. Chunks of brick and huge clouds of dust fill the air. Andrei struggled to breathe. His position was being heavily assaulted and those god damned electric rifles kept him in cover. He heard the screams of men as he peered over the edge for a quick glimpse. Three Russian soldiers danced like ragdolls as the electricity coursed through them and into the ground. They collapsed, smoking corpses. Andrei’s heart filled with rage and burning hatred for the Nazis. He swung from cover and fired a shot. The bullet buried itself in a German soldier and he convulsed, collapsing from shock. His electricity rifle clattered to the ground, and another soldier picked it up. Looks like these things were precious. Andrei fired again, hitting another man and tearing his arm off. The screaming soldier took minutes to die a slow painful death. The smell of charred flesh filled the city air. A crackle of electricity flashed by and hit a rumbling T-34. The tank slid to a halt, and Andrei swore he could hear the screams of the men as they were cooked. More shots, more dead Germans. His new motto.

It was about 10 o clock when the Luftwaffe started bombing. But they didn’t drop regular bombs. To Russia’s horror, glowing blue specks raced towards the city at an alarming speed. Andrei shouted at the people down below. “Watch out! Get outta the streets!” The bomb shattered on the ground, releasing its payload of electrical energy. Blue light exploded and several people were caught and fried instantly, becoming piles of ash and bone. Several more exploded, taking out tanks, artillery placements, and groups of civilians. The city lit up with blue light and the crackle of electricity. Then they attacked. A huge roar was heard from the German line as they charged towards the city. Andrei popped up with his Dragunov, still in the same position. He focused on the men carrying the lightning guns, and down went three of them with blood spurting from their necks. Men turned up and fired at him, bolts of deadly thunder arcing through the air. The rumble of artillery and the roar of fire blanketed his senses as the building Andrei was in took a direct hit. It started to crumble. Shit.

Amsel ducked in cover as an artillery shell exploded in the building on his flank. Showers of brick and dust fell to the street, as well as a body part or two. The soldier next to Amsel wheeled around and screamed in agony, a trio of bullets in his chest. The man fell crying for his family and to go home. Amsel looked on in horror as another man was ripped apart by a shotgun, tumbling backwards without some of his limbs. Without thinking, he fired the Wunderwaffe, and saw its deadly power. A Russian squad shrieked and convulsed as their bodies took the 200 amperes of energy. The smell of crispy flesh was….overwhelming and the men fell to the ground, nothing but roasted flesh. He turned and fired again, hitting a mobile AA gun. The men tending it became piles of ash and bone, not even having the time to scream. The AA gun toppled, and exploded. Russian men ducked for cover as a rocket streaked by, impacting a building. Amsel heard the screams of women and children and men as the building toppled, collapsing and burying several German and Russian men fighting hand to hand. The sky overhead was black with smoke and the fires from electrical malfunction.

Andrei ran for his life, dodging bolts of electricity. A rocket whizzed by and hit a building, which collapsed in the street, blocking his path. Damn. Another crackle of electricity and Andrei ducked, causing it to hit a group of Germans. They shrieked and curled up as the electricity ran its course. Their Swatiskas were barely visible under the blackened and burned fabric. He spotted a nearby truck, with ammo crates in the back. Sliding behind the wheels for cover, he winced as shots rattled over his head. They cut down a trio of men, who screamed as they slowly but surely bled out. The city ran out of medical supplies ages ago. This was getting worse by the day. Overhead, artillery shells whistled and exploded in the streets. Germans and Russians alike were thrown like ragdolls everywhere, crumpling against the cold winter stone. Fire blossomed out of buildings and crackles of electricity crossed the air. Hundreds to thousands of cold burnt and bullet ridden bodies lay in the streets. Leningrad burned, and the city was trapped. There was no place out anymore, the Germans had taken out the Road Of Life a couple weeks ago with their electricity rifles. Andrei was on his last shots for his sniper rifle. He crept across and settled in the top floor of a nearby house. He could hear the screams and yelling in German. Those sick bastards. What were they doing now? They were lining up people in the streets and executing them. Damn. Andrei took aim at the officer with his battle-scratched Dragunov and fired, splitting his head open like a tin of sardines. Blood sprayed everywhere like a fountain, showering everyone within reach. Brain matter spattered the ground and the surrounding soldiers, who cried in terror as their officer flopped backwards and landed in a puddle of his own victim’s blood. Andrei recovered with a grin and shot three more soldiers, putting an end to their miserable lives. Then the others started to return fire. He ducked under the window as shots crackled and chipped away the walls. The pounding of feet up the stairwell allowed Andrei to lob a grenade out the door, and duck in cover as fire gushed out and engulfed the oncoming German soldiers. *WOOOSH* *Aghhhh!!!!* *thump* *thump* *crash* Andrei threw away the sniper rifle and pulled out his sidearm. He crept around the top floor, where there was a big hole from the grenade. One of the Germans was struggling to breathe, suffering from severe burns. Andrei walked up to him, and shot him in the head. *CRACK* The German slumped backwards, a bullet through his brain. Suddenly Andrei was blasted with what felt like a hot sledgehammer. He flew backwards and collapsed into a glass cabinet, which shattered on impact. He felt dazed and his mouth tasted funny. The German standing in front of him was a low ranking individual from the looks of it. His face was decimated from the grenade, one side completely shorn away. But that didn’t stop him from firing the Wunderwaffe straight into Andrei. Andrei shrieked as the electricity ran through his veins. He felt like he had a thousand daggers in him at once, stabbing and slicing him apart. His heart went into overload, almost bursting through his chest.

The Russian fell backwards, dead from the electrical energy. Amsel groaned, and dropped the Wunderwaffe. It fell onto the wooden floor with a *thump*as he collapsed from blood loss. Outside, sirens wailed as the Germans took the city, killing thousands of Russian defenders. The screams of the dying and the smell of burnt flesh carried on the soft wind and finally, the city fell silent.

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Russia-1943-Gersch Device

The scientist tinkered with the plastic disc shooter. It was such a simple thing. Spring loaded and fired little toy discs. How cute. He carefully took a small disk, twice the size of a bottle cap really, and slid it into the chamber. *click*

“Test One, commencing.”

A soldier stepped up and fired the disc shooter. The little disc shot through the air, colliding with a screaming prisoner they had captured for this experiment exactly. There was a sudden purple light, and the scientist could see (through tinted glass) that there was a bright mosaic of lights and colour. And then it went dark. Lights flickered on gradually, and there was no trace of the man. There was some slight purple and orange dust in the air from when they had shot it, but other than that, nothing. They would be happy with this. Very happy indeed……

The factories churned out thousands of Gersch Rifles (They named them after the man) a second. They were then packaged, shipped, and ready to use by the time they got to the soldiers at the front. The bulky rifles came with a ten-round magazine. The ammunition wasn’t exactly the cheapest thing or the easiest to acquire and make, so each soldier only got 3 magazines. The gun was a dark blue colour, and had been outfitted with a small laser sight. It could be fired in single shots only.

“Russian High Command has some deep secrets. Ones that are better left undisturbed….”

The Gersch Rifle squads dashed through the trees, rushing to attack a German bomb factory that they had found from careful recon. The first discs zipped from the trees, and hit the guards. They didn’t even have time to scream as the void sucked their bodies into a never ending swirl of purple and pink. The alarm bells went off, clanging loudly in the Russian’s ears. More shots rang out, this time from the Germans. Three soldiers went down, ridden with bullets. The Russians returned fire, *whump-whump-whump* Three purple explosions of light and three soldiers gone. The soldiers advanced, reloading their Gersch Rifles as the Germans retreated inside their base. Just what they had planned for. Balk pulled a Gersch Device from his rucksack, and twiddled the dial at 10 minutes. This meant that it would keep the rift open for exactly 600 seconds, and then it would shut it down, therefore the black hole wouldn’t suck in every damned person it could find. The machine beeped, ready to activate. He hauled it over the fence, into a bunker. They took cover behind some rocks to watch the rest of the show.

There was a beacon of purple light, and screams as men were dragged into the “Teleporter To Nowhere” as the soldiers had affectionately nicknamed it. After a minute, the purple light increased, gaining mass and power. Crates, ammo, and steel beams were flying through the air, caught by the pull. The bunker was crumpling, getting sucked in as well. Another flash of purple and the hole was even bigger, sucking in tanks, cars, and airplanes. One soldier screamed as he hung on to a steel beam with the grip of a dead man. His scalp was ripped off, flapping away into the void. He screamed in pain, blood siphoning from his wounds into the purple mouth. *RIP* His legs disappeared, and eventually, he did to, screaming and flailing. For all the good it would do him. An airplane tried to taxi, the pilot frantically kick-starting the propeller. It ran a good way down the runway, then took off wobbling. The pilot sighed in relief, then yelled as the hole increased in pull and yanked on the tail of the plane. It tumbled backwards, propeller snapping off, and then it was crushed by the gravitational force. More of this, and after 10 minutes nothing remained. Balk had timed it just well so that the device only sucked in the base. He knew his stuff. But the potential behind this kind of weapon, as well as the Rifles, was devastating. You could take over the world with a dozen. Take over a continent with a couple. Eliminate a city with one.

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United States Of America-2012-Matryoshka Dolls

The facility was covered in snow. It always was. Deep in the Arctic, the top-secret Russian facility worked tirelessly to bring down opposing countries using their superior technology. It had taken years, decades! But they finally had the perfect weapon. A week from now, the United States of America would be rubble. The head-scientist held up his creation. It was a Matryoshka Doll, a simple thing really. It was painted joyous colours, all sorts of reds and yellows and oranges and black. So fitting for something so destructive. He keyed the microphone.

“Begin the test. Test 40-D, commencing.”

The scientist pressed a red button, and sent the detonation sequence. The thing sat there in the middle of some humanoid targets, and then detonated. The explosion was deafening. But then another! And another! And another!! The shocks rattled the scientist’s bones even from his observation post. He whistled. All the targets were……blown away for lack of a better term. The room had a large black mark from the quartet of detonations. It was the perfect weapon.

Across the United States, boats, planes, and trucks constantly carried goods from foreign countries. From Italy came the wine, from Asia came the spices, from Canada the maple syrup, and from Russia, a brand new toy. They advertised it as a “fun toy proven to improve brainpower.” Millions of these were shipped across the US, and sales skyrocketed. Salesmen went from door to door, selling dozens of toys in one day. They handed them out at McDonald’s, on airplanes, and sold them everywhere. There was not a place where you wouldn’t see- “We sell Matryoshka Dolls! Made in Russia!” Millions of kids and adults bought them, putting every doll on display. It was almost time to activate the weapon.

The head scientist sat at his desk, fiddling with one of the dolls. The wood was smooth, and the colours were bright. He had to admit, these things were possibly the most deadly explosive on Earth besides the nuclear bomb, and there were millions of them in the USA, Canada, and Europe. He pressed a button on the bookshelf, which revealed a set of titanium doors. They hissed open and the scientist disappeared.

He emerged in a brightly lit chamber, every surface covered in screens showing the North America, Europe, Africa, Asia, and Australia. Chicago, New York, Toronto, Ottawa, Washington DC, Vancouver, and just about every city were showing on screen. In the center of the room sat a red button. The scientist walked through the room, boots clicking on the hard floor. Everyone was silent, watching the man who was about to set the world on fire. His hand hovered over the button for a moment, as if he was hesitating. He whispered a prayer, and slammed his hand down on the button.

*CLICK*

It was a quiet spring morning in Toronto. Families walked in the park, people were shopping outside, and everyone was having a good time. Jimmy, age 4, was sitting on the grass under an oak tree in Queen’s Park. Suddenly, it beeped. Jimmy put his ear to it. It had never made that sound before. Across in Hershey, Pennsylvania, Steve, age 6, was in school. He was fiddling with his Matryoshka Doll under the desk while in English. *beep*

“What was that?” the teacher frowned.

The scientist watched the screen with a grim smile on his face. It would happen any second now. Three….two…….one……..

Toronto exploded as one, the wave of fire and smoke incinerating everyone and everything. The forests were flattened, Lake Ontario flash-vaporized. The CN Tower shattered, toppling to the ground. The state of Pennsylvania burst into flames, consuming crops, animals, factories, and vehicles. Washington DC was hit the hardest. The White House crumbled, white stone giving before the shockwave. The river steamed, and plumes of dirt shot up in the air, blocking out the sun. There was more power than a nuclear bomb. After days, the clouds of dirt and dust cleared. The weak sun shined through the clouds. The White House was a crater, the State Capitol building was crashing to the ground, and the Jefferson Memorial was nothing but a few pillars and some stones. Burnt and blackened trees lay everywhere, and the ground was scorched. Every single plant was dead, killed by the radiation or the fires. The Washington Memorial was a skeletal structure, a reminder of the things that should have never happened. The skeletons of cars clogged the roads and the highways had collapsed, making places inaccessible. The scientist paced the room, laughing. It had all gone according to plan. He looked to another screen.

In Europe, London was silent. The ground was dry where a river had once flowed merrily. The city was dead, wind echoing through empty streets and deserted buildings. Westminster Abbey was a shell, huge holes in the walls of the once magnificent and ornate building. Oxford was flat, only a couple walls remained. In the streets, brick and the remains of buildings clogged the streets. The Tower Bridge was diminished, only one tower and half the bridge remained, the other lying crumbled in the dry river.

Japan, North Korea, South Korea, and basically all China and India was dark. They had been eliminated as well. Their forests and lakes boiled away, the surface unlivable. Tsunamis and earthquakes racked the world, as if Earth was trying to rid itself of humanity’s last shackles.

As for the rest of the world, half of it still lay under a cloud of smoke. The oceans were strewn with wrecks, junk, and bodies. Ghost ships, eerily creaking, drifted aimlessly, colliding with each other. The water was polluted with the billions of rads, a side effect of the Matryoshka Dolls. Over three quarters of cities were completely wrecked, and almost every town and small country was completely blown off the surface. Forests were mere memories, and lakes were now pits. The skeletons of highrise buildings dominated your vision. Yet Russia was intact. Their forests still green, their animals still not burnt to a crisp. It had all gone exactly as Russia had hoped….

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There it is. You just spent your time reading that. And just for spending that time, and clicking on this thread, I thank you. This is my biggest thread yet, so comments are appreciated. I’m not sure if this belongs in Zombie Stories or what, but it belongs on CoDZ. Here’s to you, and many more stories to come in the future. Cheers.

MLH

[Ehjookayted]

This is great, man. Glad I could be of service. It's an interesting read, which I'll have to come back to, but after reading the Thundergun and Gersch sections, I'm thoroughly interested in your thoughts. It's cool to speculate about the mass destruction that would happen. For the most part, the way things look is correct. Love the writing as always.

Great work, Ollie.

Ehj~

[way2g00d]

Good work Ollie.

[Lizizadolphin]

Fantastic work!! I love how you tied the Wonder Weapons into a war situation and did it through storytelling. Was definitely worth the read. :D

[perfectlemonade]

Fantastic job. Just makes me wonder... could we really do all this destruction with conventional weapons?

+1 from me.

[MyLittleHellhound]

Fantastic job. Just makes me wonder... could we really do all this destruction with conventional weapons?

+1 from me.

Ahhhhh but that is the question to be answered. Would it or would it not be possible to use these guns in real life situations? Could you REALLY shrink someone to the size of a baby and boot them across a city?

Theorists. You know what to do.

By the way all of you will be getting da brains. Gotta wait though.

[unlawfully inacurate]

i don't think the drugnov was invented then.