Fourth Reich memorabilia. It’s their entire history laid out in an elaborate collage.
Someone has Pinterest.
The history of hatred.
That’s what I’m going to call this hallway. The place where The Fourth Reich has proudly mounted their perceived accomplishments and felonies for their fellow members to see. Their version of trophies displayed in a glass case. Blue ribbons for the most closed-minded.
A lot of the frames contain clippings from newspapers. Articles about the Reich showing up at peaceful rallies to instigate riots. To enrage the already enraged. The included pictures are mostly of white, caped men yelling in the faces of equally determined darker skinned faces, guilty only of wanting their voices to be heard and hoping the Reich would sit back and allow them to speak.
There are other articles, too. Sickening acts of violence against people of color framed here as proud admission of responsibility.
My stomach churns, but I force myself to keep reading. To know their motivations so I can use it against them.
Each article, picture, flag, or quote is more sickening than the last.
At one end of the long hall hang black and white photos that as you get further down morph into faded color then brighten towards the end.
The white capes. The groups of men women and children all giving the Nazi salute to the camera.
The phrase FOURTEEN WORDS is painted in script at the top of the wall. The first slogan of many lining the hallway. I know what it means. I’ve heard it a lot over the years, but I’ve always looked at it and at their propaganda with a scientific mind. Words spoken by, essentially, mentally ill people. I’ve tried to analyze why they feel this way and what their chemical makeup looks like under a microscope and the crowds’ responses to certain trigger words, but I’ve never stopped and really thought about the words themselves. What they mean. “We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children.” That’s what ‘fourteen words’ means. Fourteen sickening fucking words. SWP follows it. Supreme white power.
I hold my stomach as I move on, and as I do, the images only grow more terrifying. I knew all of this was wrong, but did I really feel it? Did I ever feel the empathy for the targets of their hatred like I should have? If I did, I don’t remember.
Fuck. I’m just like my father. Cold and unfeeling.
Which makes sense now because you have to be cold and unfeeling to regard the majority of the world’s population as inferior to yourself. As nothing more than rats in the street.
The end of the hall is decorated in flags. The confederate flags I was once told were a symbol of southern pride, I now realize are symbols of the losing side of the civil war. It’s akin to hanging a swastika, which, I look up, is hanging directly above it.
My knees are weak as I reach the end of the hall. All of the things I used to think were just symbols of ignorance are not just a result of a lack of knowledge or information. Just the opposite. They had all of the knowledge. All of the information. All of the history. The Reich simply chooses to see things as they want to see them. They choose to hate.
I stagger back from the hall, the trophies hanging there, showing their history of hate blurs then becomes clear. Clearer than they’ve ever been.
These things used to not be a factor for me. These terrible things that used to be okay with me for the sake of science aren’t fucking okay anymore.
They should burn along with the rest of this fucking place, and not just because I’m seeking revenge. Revenge is still coming but pales in comparison to the now bigger and much more painful picture laid out for me in fucking collage-style.
I cannot fight The Reich just for my own selfish purposes anymore. My family’s murders are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how many lives they’ve ruined. How many innocent people they’ve terrorized. How many children they’ve turned into monsters,
Children like Percy.
My war has a bigger meaning. A bigger purpose.
And that purpose isn’t just revenge. It’s humanity.
The world is a blur around me as I rush through the compound and into my room. I close the door and lean my back against it. With my eyes shut, I release a long exhale. “You’ll find her. She’ll be okay,” I whisper to myself.