Destiny, part 1

Author's note: This story is a flashback of Soviet Superwoman's time during the War. It takes place right before the series depicted here: [link] & here: [link]

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April 1945, Berlin
The Führerbunker

Soviet Superwoman stepped over the fallen bodies of the last few defenders of the Führerbunker. SS soldiers so fanatically devoted to their leader they had attacked her head on with rifle, knife and grenade, knowing they had no chance at all of slowing the juggernaut down. The explosions occurring above barely registered as a ripple down here, buried far beneath the Reich Chancellery. Germany was in it's death throes, but it's leader had chosen to crawl below ground like a worm. Only a steel, reinforced door stood between her and the man responsible for the deaths of so many of her countrymen. Grabbing hold of it with both hands, Olga let out a small grunt as she ripped the door free from it's moorings, dashing it to the floor beside her.

The little man seated on a couch inside was hardly what Olga had expected to see. He was almost comical looking, with his silly looking mustache, parted hair and tan party uniform. The Führer of Germany, champion of the "master race" appeared to her eyes as a frail, old man. Like a sad clown. He was pouring himself a cup of tea as she stormed into the room and hadn't even bothered to look up at her.

"Greetings Herr Hitler." Olga's voice was stern and barely contained her malice and contempt. "Marshal Stalin would like very much to see as his guest in Moscow."

Hitler looked up and for a moment, Olga held her breath. It was his eyes. They seemed to bore through her, possessing an almost hypnotic quality. Like the eyes of a medium in trance. There was an almost fluid quality about them that made the Soviet Superwoman feel almost physically drained and void. She shot her eyes to the ceiling and kept them there for a moment.

"I'm sure that he does." The small man spoke, quietly and purposefully, his voice shaking with anger under it's whisper-like tone. "However I have no intention of seeing him."

Olga sneered and looked back down at him. "It is not a request Herr Hitler. You are under my authority now."

Hitler waved his hand, dismissively at her and took a sip of his tea before placing it back down in the saucer. She noticed that his hand shook tremendously, as if he was afflicted with a condition of the nerves. "Am I? So you are this 'Soviet Superwoman' I have heard so much about. The same one who defeated my 3rd Panzer Division, and made a fool out of Sturmbannführer Ilsa Hauppman time and time again. The same one who sank the battleship Tirpitz and killed von Trotha, even after he repelled the American & British invasion at Normandy beach. I must say you look like nothing more than a poor Slavic girl, genetically inferior in every way. In no way what I would have imagined the ubermenschen."

Olga took a step forward, hands clenching into fists in her gloves. "Then I am more than happy to disappoint you. May I also add that for the architect of a global war, that has brought death and starvation to millions of my people, and the mastermind behind the horrors I witness first-hand in Poland, you are a small, sickly looking old man who isn't even a half-way decent example of his supposed 'master race'."

Hitler chuckled and looked up at her. "It does not matter. You and your people will always be nothing more than slave labor for those of pure blood or your own Jewish Bolshevik masters in Moscow. For all your powers and bluster, you are just a pawn."

Olga grabbed hold of the table on the side, violently throwing it across the room where it exploded, throwing hot tea, broken china and wood in all directions. "Get up now! This war is over and you have lost!" Her patience was at an end. She had not come this far and through so much to be lectured now by the most hated man in human history. Another artillery shell exploded overhead. The Soviet troops were closing in on her location quickly.

The German Führer met her gaze with his strangely hypnotic eyes and very slowly stood up. With his shaking left hand, he straightened out his uniform and adjusted his collar, standing up as erect as he could muster. He withdrew a broom-handled mauser from his belt and handed it over to the muscular Russian woman. "It would appear that I have no choice. I will come with you, with no trouble." he whispered, looking at the floor. Olga crushed the sidearm and threw it to the side. She turned, her blood-red cape billowing behind her, to face the exposed entranceway. When she did she took a step back startled. Standing in it she recognized several other top party officials. The "poison dwarf", Reich Minister of Propaganda Joseph Goebbels was here as was the "Brown Eminence", Hitler's personal secretary Martin Bormann. They must have been standing there since she entered the chamber.

"Gentlemen, you are all under arrest." Olga began "you are to accompany me above ground where..."

Olga's speech was cut off mid-sentence as a blast of incredible power slammed into her from behind, knocking her to her knees. She struggled to catch her breath as another blast of white-hot pain crashed into her side, shredding her uniform and tossing her blood in pools to the bunker floor. Collapsing over onto her back her eyes opened in surprise as the Führer himself stood over her. In his hands was a spear of sorts, but the tip was very old and appeared to be crudely repaired. He must have been hiding it under the couch or in the cushions...her mind reeled. No wonder he had not committed suicide as all the intelligence officials had boasted that he would. He shakily pointed the rusted tip at her again and again another wave of energy slammed into body. The seemingly mystical blast caught her in the side of the face and whipped her head around, spitting blood. The three leaders of the Nazi regime were laughing at her.

"The Spear of Destiny" Hitler's voice was stronger now and full of anger and emotion "the spear head that pierced the side of the King of the Jews. Charlemange once possessed it and his army was undefeatable. Fredrick of Barbarossa carried it into battle as well. 45 different emperors wielded this mighty weapon and all had unbroken strings of victory! Imagine! When I first gazed upon it in the Hofburg in Austria, I knew it would be mine! Divine providence had made it so! It's powers are beyond that of any mortal army...or their sub-human, scientific experiments."

Another blast issued forth, crippling the Soviet Superwoman with pain again. Hitler was ranting again as he stepped towards her prostate form. "The Holy Lance! With it I will still win this conflict! My war is far from over. The German people may have failed me, but I will not! Ilsa Hauppman thinks that she can taint herself with your Slavic blood and grant herself your great powers. I will let her drain every vile drop from your empty veins and then I will let her destroy your miserable people with their own weapon: the powers she inherits from you."

Stepping forward towards the prone heroine, the leader of the Third Reich raised the fragile, leaf-shaped looking blade high before sinking it home in the Soviet Superwoman's chest as easily as a hot knife cuts through butter...

To be continued...

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Remember that preview art I put up before I went to Heroes Con?
Well here is your answer!

This painful looking piece was rendered by my frequent partner and dear friend, who once again has my tremendous thanks!

The Soviet Superwoman is my creation and property and the story is all mine as well.