Gate of Dimensions

[Act 1] Chapter 30: Blackness

Heinrich Himmler, former Reichsführer of Nazi Germany and currently the most wanted man in Germany, stepped in the warm midday air, dressed in his pyjamas, letting the vitamin D touch his skin as he sat down on a makeshift sun lounge complete with a wooden table brought up through the hatch.

Several SS Ehrengardes, entirely black-uniformed honour guards of the once-mighty Waffen-SS, surrounded his position, Kar98k rifles trained outwards, watching closely for anyone who might discover their location. They needn't bother. With their secret bunker hidden directly into a hilltop in a nice, remote location with only a hatch to give away their location, not even the most advanced technology the Kaiser's men have could find them. The only way they would be exposed was if one of the bunker's occupants sold them out, but the Reichsführer made sure his selection of occupants were those devoted to the cause.

Still, every time he blinked, he hoped he would wake up from this dream. Instead, it was the horrible reality. He prayed every night for Wuotan, Doner and every other Aesir god to come down and slay the servants of Hel and save the Reich from falling further to degeneracy, but it would appear they weren't worthy enough for Valhalla. 

The Third Reich was gone, replaced with the second one. His dreams, his visions of grandeur, were stripped the moment Wilhelm was crowned a second time. And now he is on the run, in hiding, like a common criminal. The shame and humiliation to spend two years in an underground bunker because every non-Nazi German is looking for him as well as a hefty bounty placed upon him outside of the Reich was astounding. This was part of the reason he made up excuses to not go to meetings requested by the remainder of his schutzstaffel. He just couldn't compel himself to ever see how far his organisation had fallen. If the notion of returning to praises from the masses for liberating the country and returning it back to its rightful owners didn't give him some sense of hope, he just might bring a gun with him when he went up to the surface one last time.

The once-mighty Reichsführer was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't even notice the tray of food brought up to him, nor the roar of his soldiers halting an approaching messenger nor a guardsman approach his table, instead choosing to stare blankly into the distance as if he was mentally painting a picture. 

"Heil Himmler!" the young guardsman greeted, adding the formal Nazi salute. Himmler only waved his hand for the man to continue, still staring into oblivion. "Mein Reichsführer, Ich bringe eine Nachricht." I bring a message.

The messenger then pulled out a large, thick envelope and placed it right onto the table, careful not to disturb his master's dinner. The Reichsführer took one look at it before waving the guards to return to the bunker. In quick haste, the men proceeded to pack up everything on the outside, including Himmler's unfinished food, and proceeded into the hatch, Heinrich being the last to enter, supported by his men.

Every step of the way, through the barely lit corridors of his home underneath the ground, he wondered who would have the nerve to send him a letter despite his requests to remain in hiding. He hoped it wasn't who he thought it was. He knew only one person who doesn't care about what he thought since she was the protégé of the one person who outranked the Reichsführer.

When he got to his makeshift office, a room just large enough to be considered an apartment, he locked the soundproof door behind him. He wouldn't dare let anyone bear witness to the Reichsführer's state of mind behind closed doors, not even his own men. He was once the most respected man in the Reich before the Wehrmacht turned against them, so his reputation had to be kept.

He sat down on his four-poster bed and turned his bedside lamp on, not wasting any time with his office chair, and took a look at his message. The letter was written without formally addressing him as the Reichsführer or proper grammar. His face cringed as he knew this could only be: Helga; former concentration camp commander, former commander of the 3rd SS Panzer Division Totenkopf after Theodor Eicke was killed and one of the Führers most loyal and devoted followers. The fact that she was willing to send a letter to him when he specifically requested to remain hidden after all this time meant either it was urgent or she didn't care.