Dietrich Mongola looked at the corpse of Colonel Patrick Cunningham, then at his killer Bruce Taylor, then back at the corpse, then back at Taylor.
He wasn’t sure which scared him more, the fact that Taylor had killed the Colonel, or the fact that he was being so calm about it.
“Vhat do ve hav to talk about?”
“Well for starters, why did you kill poor O.J. here? Shot in the back, doesn’t seem like a threat to me.”
Taylor walked over to Jacobson’s body, paying no mind to the gun Dietrich still had aimed at him, and picked up the picture frame that was still in his hand. He laughed when he read the inscription.
“Ha, fuck me Fuchs, I knew you were a sneaky little shit. This Mongola character even real?”
“Only on paper, I do mein job right and I can make him real. And I don’t need you alive to do zat.”
“Whoa, easy there Deke, we’re both in the same boat here, we’ve both killed soldiers of The British Army and they will hang us both if they find out about it. Like it or not we do need each other, you need me because if the Kraut is the only survivor then that’s gonna raise a lot of ugly questions for you, and I need you to explain what the hell is that thing in the basement?”
“You saw zat?”
“It fucking talked to me Deke.”
Dietrich scowled, annoyed that Taylor was right, they did need each other to escape, he’d prefer to kill the Yank Bastard for knowing too much but would put him almost literally into the firing line. Reluctantly he put his gun down and motioned towards the door.
“Vhat du you know of Herr Mengele’s experiments?” Dietrich asked as he climbed down the stairs to the basement, Taylor following close behind.
“Not much, we heard he was trying his hand at gene splicing, the animal works we couldn’t give a shit about, then we heard he had brought humans into the mix.”
“Herr Mengele’s vork vas to breed an super-species of subservient animals, vith ze strength of a horse and ze intelligence of a pig. Ze would be small enough to go undetected on ze battlefield but numerous enough to be a force on zer own. A chimera of several species, carrying ze advantages of them all, and none of ze weaknesses.”
“Sounds a lot like race mixing there Deke, thought you Krauts were against that.”
Dietrich glared Taylor as he reached the basement and pulled out a torch. “Animals are not people Herr Taylor, ze are not granted the same reprieve and all are free for experimentation. Be zey dog or pig… or Jew.”
“So it’s true, you did use Jewish prisoners for your fucked up experiements.”
“Zat was not ze original plan, ve had trouble vith ze Creatures, zey did not follow instructions vell, anything more complex zan ‘push ze box’ had zem running around like chickens. Ve needed human ingenuity in ze mix, and ve had millions of Jews ready and vaiting.”
The two men turned the corner and found Oskar again, it had been some time since Dietrich last saw him – he half-expected him to be dead but clearly the tubes in his stomach were keeping him fed - but the thing still disgusted him,. He was shaped like a horse, but the size of a small dog meaning his stumpy little legs made his elongated face even more off-putting, worse still his entire skin was that of a pigs, making him this weird pinky flesh colour covered in small black hairs.
Dietrich heard one of the scientists refer to Oskar as a testicle with a Jew nose once and he couldn’t see any fault in the logic.
Blinded by the torchlight, Oskar tried to see who the new humans were. “Daddeh? Dat yu?”
“Daddy’s gone Oskar, he’s likely never to come back.”
“Huu, Oska wan see daddeh gain.”
Taylor looked at the horrific thing in front of him, the disgust clear on his face. “You telling me you Fascist Fucks put a Jewish brain into this thing?”
“Don’t be so crude Yankee, zis is not Frankenstein. Nein, ve used ze Jew brain as a baseline to help it understand its instructions.”
Dietrich looked at Oskar and sneered. “Ve were successful, but only in ze most basic of terms.”
“Ze creatures are dummkopfe. Zey can talk but zey cannot pronounce Ls or Rs, and their vocabulary consists of ‘Hewwo’ und ‘Mummah’. Zey can hear you but zey do not listen, if you tell zem not to do something zey will think zey know better and do it anyvay, often resulting in zer deaths. And ze humping, all ze creatures vant is to hump and eat and shit and hump in zat order, zey can have so many fucking kinder vith each litter and zey love zer little bastards, alvays vanting more babies, never enough fucking babies.”
“Oskar wan babbehs, be gud daddeh.”
“Du haltst deinen mund!”
Dietrich had to stop himself from slapping Oskar in the face, thinking of all the time, money and energy that went into creating him only for it to be an absolute failure.
“It never vorked Yankee, ve could create ze creatures but zey had ze strength and intelligence of a three year old child, zen ze Var ended and ve had to abandone ze projects. Ve vere going to kill ze creatures until ve realised zey had killed themselves in ze panic of vaiting for our return. Ve vere gone two hours, zat is the legacy ve built, ve spat in ze face of God, and he spat back.”
“How did this little bastard survive then?”
“Likely forgotten about, ze only reason he hasn’t starved is because ze feeding tubes are connected to zer own generation, Herr Mengele didn’t vant to lose his specimen, until he realised vat a fucking vaste it vas.”
“I’ll happily take him off your hands for you Deke, the boys back home won’t believe it when I show them this.”
“I’m afraid I cannot allow zat Yankee.”
“Oh come off it Deke, I thought we were allies now, this little guy could make us both rich.”
“Ve are var criminals and traitors, only helping each other for our own benefits. And I don’t need riches Herr Taylor, mein superiors have set aside a lot of Gold for me completing this mission, I’ve already put myself at risk by letting you take ze documents I vas suppose to destroy. The only reason I’ve let you have zem is because I do not believe you can replicate ze results, if you take ze creature zen you vill have the keys to a very real Hell on earth.”
Taylor scoffed. “Bit overdramatic there, ain’t ya Deke?”
“Quite the opposite Herr Taylor, I’m relatively calm for knowin vat ze creatures do. I’ve seen mothers kill zer own young just for having colours ze do not like, I’ve seen stallions get so riled up zat zeh fuck anything zat moves, it doesn’t matter if it’s male, female or even zer own children. Ze creatures vere a mistake I vill not let out of zis basement.”
To emphasise his point, Dietrich pulled out his gun and fired it at Oskar’s head, blowing the little guy’s head clean off, as well as most of his upper torso from the blast.
Taylor jumped back to avoid getting hit with blood. “Christ Deke, what the hell was that?”
“Zat vas me clearing ze air, vhatever you vant vith ze documents is yours, I do not see ze point in it but zat is your problem. Ze creatures vas my problem, I have now dealt vith my problem and my superiors vill be happy vith zat. As far as I care, our geschaft is concluded.”
Taylor looked between Dietrich and Oskar, and realised there was nothing he could do now with a dead specimen, the documents would have to suffice.
“Very well then Deke, let’s say we take our leave of this fucking place and go home?”
“Not yet, zere is still ze matter of ze bodies upstairs. Vhen ze send ze teams out for evidence in ze trials, ze vill find ze Colonel and his friend and know vhat ve did.”
“No they won’t, with got some time before they need us at the rendezvous, we’ll ditch the bodies, clean up the evidence and tell the bosses that we got separated from Cunningham and Jacobson, never saw either of them again. By the time they actually figure out what happened, we’ll both be too rich and too distant to be worth chasing down.”
“You’re a stupid optimist Yankee, but I have no other vay of getting out of zis. For both our sakes, I hope zis vorks.”
Leaving Oskar’s bloody corpse in the dark basement, the two men headed back upstairs to deal with the human corpses.
“You still haven’t said vhat you plan on doing vith these documents Yankee, should I be vorried?”
“I wouldn’t think too much on it Deke, likely the boys in the lab will have a go at cracking the science, see if they can improve it, fix what you Krauts missed. For one thing I’d recommend making the damn thing a little fluffier.”
“I still say you are vasting your time, but it is your time to vaste I guess.”
“Don’t worry about it, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”
Dietrich and Taylor did what they could to clean up the bloodstains, gather any bullet-casing and got rid of the bodies, dumping the nude corpses of Cunningham and Jacobson into a nearby lake and burning their clothing and effects.
Then they went home, they got their stories straight, told the brass that they lost their comrades in the field and feared the worst. The British Generals weren’t happy about two of their own being AWOL but they appreciated being told and allowed both men to leave.
Dietrich got his gold as promised, and once it went through the proper channels he was able to leave his life as Wolfgang Fuchs behind and reinvent himself as Dietrich Mongola, one of the upper-classes, he got married, had his sons Herman and Fitzgerald and coasted by on an easy lifestyle away from his violent, war-criminal past. As the years turned to decades, he slowly forgot about the events in Auschwitz and about Bruce Taylor, until…
It was a little over 50 years after the mission when an elderly Dietrich turned on the TV, ready to complain about ‘That black boy’ on the news again, but as he was flicking through the channels he caught something that took him by surprise.
And brought back floods of memories he didn’t want to remember.
“Our next guest has brought with him something he says will revolutionise the pet industry as we know it. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Michael Taylor.”
A dorky but somewhat handsome man appeared from behind the curtains carrying a small, furry black creature with short stumpy legs and a flat face.
Dietrich felt his heart tighten at the sight of it.
“Michael, welcome to Tomorrow’s World, thank you joining us.”
“Thank you for having me.”
“I understand that this is Baxter you have with you today?”
“It is indeed, Baxter is a new breed we have called a ‘Fluffy’ that we’re hoping to release to the public in time. Say hello Baxter.”
“Hewwo nyu fwiends.”
“Oh my, that is adorable. Now I have to ask, is Baxter real?”
“Ha, yes, I can promise Baxter is very much real, he is a living, breathing creature birthed from living breathing parents, he’s a little over a year old and he’s one of our best behaved Fluffies.”
“It is incredible, how did you manage to create something like this?”
“It was actually my grandfather who came up with the idea, he had it all written down and theoretically it worked, he just needed the science to back him up. So for the last 40 to 50 years, my grandfather, my father and myself have been working on this project trying to get it to work. Sadly my grandfather passed away about 7 years ago so he never got to see his work completed, but I’m sure he’ll be proud of what we’ve accomplished.”
“I’m sure he would be, I must say Baxter is very well-behaved.”
“He’s actually very excited to meet new people, but I told him if he behaves himself then I’ll let him pick one of our female fluffies to be his mate. Our plan is to have the Fluffies mate for life so that generations of one pair can be with a family for years and years.”
“Bak-sta wan speciaw-fwiend to wub an hab babbehs wiv.”
The studio audience awwed at the cute little love monster, Michael scratched him behind the ear for being a good Fluffy.
“That is adorable, when can we expect to see Baxter and his likes on sale?”
“Not for some time yet, there are still a few kinks to work out, Baxter is proof of concept more than an actual product, but he is proof that the concept works so hopefully within 5 -10 years Fluffies will be on sale.”
“I’ll certainly have my order in. After the break we’ll be putting Baxter’s cognitive skill to the test with an obstacle course and later…”
Dietrich never heard the rest of the show, the fatal heart attack he just had knocked him out instantly and killed him seconds later. By the time his son Fitzgerald found him, Dietrich would be long dead.
No-one questioned why a man in his 80s suddenly died, no-one knew of his connection to the strange fluffy creature on the telly to question anything. Neither Dietrich nor Taylor told anyone of what happened that day, Taylor because he didn’t want to ruin his money-making idea, and Dietrich because he didn’t think it would ever become a threat.
With his death, the only two people who knew the insidious origins of the Fluffies was gone, all that was left as evidence was the documents Taylor took. And they went up in flames during the Hasbio raids years later.
By that point Fluffies were seen as a broken, shitting pest of a creature. Nobody gave a damn where they came from.
Nor did they want to.