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- >Regret fills your mind
- >All the times you failed your family come back to you
- >The first time you got busted for possession, the look on your father's face as he picked you up from the police station
- >When you told him you were going to a vocational college, him telling you that only drunks and idiots study there
- >When you moved out after being unemployed for a while, the fight you had when he told you that Slateside was filled with junkies and hobos
- >The first meeting with your family after you'd moved in, the disappointed looks on your parents' faces when you said you were still unemployed
- >The looks on their faces when you cut the meeting off early, only to go to the bar to get shitfaced alone
- >Your kid sister asking you if you were an alcoholic and you yelling at her
- >All the times you'd yelled at her or your parents, taking out your anger towards the world on them
- >You want to make it alright again
- >Your thoughts are interrupted by yelling
- >Suddenly, no-one is beating you anymore
- >A thick Cockney accent fills your ears
- >''Hang in there, mate! Don't go dyin' on me now!''
- >A shaved head and a pair of green eyes fills your vision
- >You laugh, at what you don't know
- ''You's one, one ugly motherfucker.''
- >The last thing you notice before you pass out is that your voice sounds incredibly hoarse
- >The first thing you notice is that you feel warm
- >You let your eyes open, the harsh light stinging your pupils
- >''Hey Rob, look who's awake!''
- >An unfamiliar voice fills the room
- >You try to reach for your gun when you notice you're not wearing a jacket, let alone your shirt
- >Bandages criss-cross your torso, ugly, dark bruises peeking out from underneath
- ''W-water, p-please…''
- >The same man from before grins at you, appearing from out of nowhere
- >He holds a glass filled with water out to you
- >You grab it with shaking hands, and quench your thirst the best you can
- >After a moment, looking at the expectant faces before you, you open your mouth, and notice that talking hurts incredibly much
- >Your lungs feel like they're on fire, and the parts of your face that aren't bandaged feel completely busted
- ''Where am I?''
- >''Clubhouse, mate. This is where we hang out, plan to take over the world, shit like that.''
- >He laughs
- >You notice that his laughter is incredibly beautiful, cascading into your ears like a waterfall of sound
- >No homo
- ''Clubhouse, huh? Wh-what happened?''
- >Your savior spits onto the concrete floor, thinly veiled disgust on his face
- >''Fucking niggers, mate. Beat seven kinds of shit out of you, and from what I saw, it's a miracle you're still talking, let alone alive.''
- >He shakes his head, and smiles at you
- >''Now, what was all that about, huh?''
- >You shrug in response, your throat finally feeling normal again
- ''Dunno. They robbed me, but it looks like they went a bit overboard with it.''
- >You give a weak chuckle and smile, the wounds under your bandages feeling like they might tear up at any moment.
- >He blows out a long breath from between his teeth and shakes his head
- >*'A bit overboard? Fucking monkeys would've killed you if we weren't there.''
- ''Yeah, thanks for that. Really.''
- >''No problem, brother. Us whites have to stick together, you know?''
- ''Yeah, I guess.''
- >At this point you notice a pattern in the inhabitants
- >They're all rocking shaved heads, most of them have full sleeve tattoos, and you swear to God you see a couple swastikas mixed in with the generic ink
- >Great
- >White power skinheads, just what you needed
- >''Anyway, Doc's just as amazed as we are about this. No-one should be alive after that kind of a beating. He claims divine intervention, I think you're just lucky.''
- ''Divine intervention, huh? Hell of a time for God to step in.''
- >You chuckle despite yourself
- ''So, you mind telling me what went down?''
- >''Well, we saw two 'groids kicking something, so me, Rob and Danny went to investigate.''
- >While talking, he points in turn to himself, to an easily seven feet tall skin in the corner and to a short, incredibly muscular guy on the couch currently cradling a beer
- >Both of them give you smile, a nod and a murmured greeting
- >You grin and sit upright, wincing slightly from your ribs moving
- ''Hey guys, thanks. I'm Anon.''
- >''Anyway, we go in and pull some weapons, and the mud skins bolt like a fucking track meet.''
- >The group chuckles in unison, murmurs of 'Damn right' and 'Fucking pussies' briefly filling the small room
- >''So, after that I grab you, put you in the bee-em and we ride the lightning to this place.''
- ''Jesus Christ. How long have I been out?''
- >He shrugs again and pulls out a cigarette from a jacket on his lap
- >''Two hours, tops? It's been a bit chaotic, to be honest. After we rushed you here we got Doc to work on you ASAP, and most of us have been standing guard since.''
- >He hands the jacket, which is clearly yours, to you, and puts the cigarette in between your lips.
- ''Thanks.''
- >''No problem. Just try to kick the habit, okay?''
- ''Shit man, I've quit so many times it ain't even funny.''
- >You give him a weak chuckle and light your cigarette
- >''Yeah, but when the holy war comes, us whites have to be fit for fight, see? Just listen to Rob.''
- >Rob stands up, walks into the center of the room, and spreads his arms like a mock Jesus
- >''As David Lane wrote, we must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children.''
- >He turns towards you and smiles
- >''That is what we are about, as a group. We all have our own reasons, but our goal is the same: making Slateside a safe place for whites.''
- >He turns back towards the motley crew assembled in the room, each one following his every move like a hawk
- >''For too long have nonwhites controlled this place.''
- >A cry of 'Hell yeah!' rings out, bouncing off the concrete walls
- >''The niggers? They'll poison our children with drugs and gangsta rap, indoctrinating them into their degenerate way of life!''
- >Most of the crew is standing up now, conviction radiating off their features
- >You'd be lying if you said you don't feel something tugging at your heart
- >''The wet backs? They might look close to us, they might befriend us, but know this: they are just as bad as the niggers!''
- >Amidst the cheers, his voice turns dangerously low, his eyes gaining a predatory feel
- >''And the arabs? We welcome them after their terrorist acts, we welcome them after 9/11, we, as a nation, open our arms to them after every single atrocity committed in the name of Islam
- >abroad!''
- >He is shouting now, face turning redder by the minute
- >''And after taking advantage of our hospitality? They turn against us! They build mosques where we could have schools and hospitals! They demand freedom of religion, when they
- >practice the same religion that has murdered thousands of our brothers, fathers and friends overseas!''
- >The cheering is deafening now
- >''And they do this why? Because we, as a nation, allow them to! Because we, as a nation, have learned nothing from the past decades! Because we, as a nation, are weakened, corrupted
- >by the state our country is in!''
- >You find yourself joining in, whether it is just the beatdown speaking you don't know
- >''But we will stand for it no more! Us proud white men will take back what is ours! We will wage a racial holy war, and restore this country to it's former glory! Sieg Heil!''
- >The rallying cry is echoed by the men and women in the room with you, and you almost feel forced to join in
- ''Fuck yeah!''
- >A while later, backed up by the music echoing out of the wall-mounted speakers, you find yourself talking to the Cockney savior currently cradling a beer
- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-nKDqP3vpxU
- ''So, who's this Doc guy?''
- >He points at a man standing in a corner conversing with two young men, no older than sixteen
- >''Oh, he's this old Army medic, patched up so many of our boys I've lost count.''
- >You grin, the wounds on your face screaming in protest
- ''He got work cut out for him, huh?''
- >''Yeah, to say the least.''
- >He grins and hands you a tin of beer
- >''Doc says you shouldn't drink for a while, but the tosser's gone soft. You seem fit for fight to me, so here.''
- >You grin and start emptying the can into your mouth-hole, emitting a burp after half the can is gone
- ''Thanks brother, really appreciate-''
- >You're interrupted by the sound of a scuffle behind you
- >Yells of 'You fucking what?' and 'Come at me, man!' fill the air
- >Your savior looks disappointed for a brief moment, before rushing off into the throng
- >You follow suit, wanting to see what happens
- >''Hey, come on Teapot, it's just talk, man.''
- >''Yeah, we was just talking man, nothing serious!''
- >Your savior, seemingly nicknamed Teapot, silences both with a simple gesture
- >''Save it for the niggers, lads. No fucking point in beating each other up, is there?''
- >Surly mutters of 'No sir' and 'Sorry Tea' emanate from the two offenders
- >''Good. Now both of you kids lay off the beer for a while, alright?''
- >Protests fill the air, but are quickly silenced by the Englishman
- >''It's clear to me you can't handle your liquor, so you either stop drinking, or fuck off back home, alright?''
- >He turns back to you with a smile on his face
- >''Sorry about that. Anon, was it? It's just, the fresh cuts can't hold their beer so well. They get uppity as hell, start fights, stuff like that.''
- ''No problem. I know that feeling.''
- >''I'm sure you do.''
- >You finish your beer and clear your throat, feeling very out of place among the skins
- ''So, thanks for everything, but I really got to get going now. How far is this place from where you picked me up?''
- >''Oh, not far at all, mate. Tell you what, I'm still sober, so I can drive you home. How's that sound?''
- >Like hell you were letting anyone know your home address, let alone some crazy white power guys
- >They did save you, but you have an inkling that if they'd know what you do for a living they wouldn't be quite as nice
- ''Well, if you can drop me off where you found me I'd appreciate it. Home's not far away and I'll get a chance to investigate the crime scene, so to say.''
- >You give another weak chuckle and a grin
- >''What ever you say, mate. Let's go.''
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