Post by Deleted on Dec 31, 2016 20:39:59 GMT -5
Chapter One: Simpler Life
In a dark setting of auroral lighting and flickering intensity, the figure of Dag strikes out of a silhouette flung against a wall. The candle in front of him picks and chooses the pieces of his being it wants to reveal with careless lament. His clothes are tattered and torn and his beard is scratching his collar with abandon. It is against Pagan traditions to shave during Yule. He adjusts the camera one last time before he begins speaking. His monologue is unrelentingly convinced in its own assessment of the truth of reality.
“My name is Dagvald Riddik Erikson. I am a full blooded Norwegian descendant in a lineage of glorious warriors who have defended my homeland for generations. We never wanted for much, and there was never much to want for. For as far back as records exist, and the memories of my forebears preserve them, the honor of my ancestors tells of valor in battle and generosity in peace. We have never chosen the wrong side of history, even if the victors would say otherwise. Or course, the peace treaty and the history books are written by the same hand.
“In the Viking age, my forebear Rohnst Davidson, fought valiantly in the conquest of modern Scotland. When Leif Erikson discovered the Vinland, my forebear Varg Peterson accompanied him on the perilous voyage. My grandfather volunteered for the German army in the First World War at age 16 on the Eastern Front, only to die defending our homeland from Nazi paratroopers twenty years later. His son Erik, my father, engaged selflessly in guerilla warfare to chase out the pretender scum while the Americans bombed our cities and the British died for sand in the deserts.
“We Norwegians, you see, are imbued with warrior’s spirit. We do not mind whether the outcome of a battle is determined from even before the outset of fighting. We could not stop the Nazis from conquering the country, but we could stop them from conquering us, from conquering the people. The fighting spirit of a Norseman cannot be snuffed out, no matter how dire the situation or insurmountable the odds. Even when faced with outright hopelessness, we will fight on, for the honor of our ancestors and the glory of our gods. We are taught of our superiorities in battle not out of foolish pride or some sort of racial supremacy, but out of necessity. If you go into a battle not already confident you are going to win, then you have already lost. We Nordics fight too many battles to go in set to lose.
“Growing up in Roanoke, VA separated me from these values. I never noticed how cheated I was of my rites as a Norwegian until I returned to the land of my forebears. Despite the puppet government established by the west after Norway had been dismantled by the Nazis as well as the Americans and British, the people still try desperately to fan the flames of their culture and keep the torch burning. The government pushes multiculturalism, diversity, socialism, and subservience to the American liberal masters, but these people are no strangers to having their entire way of life under siege from all sides.
“When Christianity came to Europe from the desert, it brought with it the desert. Our idols were defaced or destroyed, our sacred sites burned, or traditions devalued and repurposed. For a thousand years now, our ideologies have been under assault from foreign ideas designed to turn us into slaves for foreign masters. I am no stranger to harshly criticizing the poison of Islam, but that by no means indicates any preference of any other religion. Every single desert religion is nothing more than a political ideology designed to justify anachronistic autocratic rule over large swaths of people and permit their sending to die in meaningless wars.
“Today, we have the illusion of free will and freedom of choice maintained by the strings pulled by the international community dominated by the United States. For eight years, on top of that, the United States has been taking their orders from an Islamic agent. Obama has used his power far beyond any president who came before him, and now all across Europe are leaders who bow to the whim of a barbaric sect. They thought they could establish a new world order. They thought that they could maintain power indefinitely not by convincing the people of their country that they are best for their interests, but by simply importing hundreds of thousands of willing voters. Now that idiotic plan has backfired, and the people are finally willing to rise up and take action.
“But they are doing it all wrong. There are so, so many misconceptions about me out there in the public eye. I am both idolized and hated by those on all sides of the political spectrum. What they don’t know is that I am not on the political spectrum. I am not a national socialist, I am not a skinhead, I am not a secularist, am a Neo-Nordicist. I abhor capitalism and socialism all the same. They are simply two paths to the same result: enslavement of the populous.
“I will not support the enslavement of my people through either of these chains. I will do everything in my power to further along the natural destruction of the current world order. I will not consume and I will not produce anything which is not absolutely necessary to my well being. I will not contribute to the oppression of my brothers and sisters under a corrupt system! The White Genocide is real. The plans have been in place since WWII. Sadly, mistakes were made that cannot be undone. They have sealed the fate of our children and our children’s children. Only if everyone would follow our own ancestors’ plan can we salvage the future of the white race.
“We must not save civilization. That’s not at all what this is about. Civilization is a product of race mixing, when savages are given a platform to share space with those who are above them, regardless of their position in the social hierarchy. Our forebears, for millennia, did not need civilization to thrive and prosper. Civilization is a crutch to make up for the shortcomings of those within it. It is the problem, and the problem is the solution. Everything wrong with society is the explanation for the failures of every civilization in history. If we were united in a heterogeneous environment where we relied only on those who share our blood and beliefs, then we would have no use for civilization.
“Every cent given to the governments of these civilizations is a cent which will be used to annihilate those who support them. Through tax funded programs, our rulers seek to genocide us in an international holocaust unlike anything the world has ever seen. Rapefugees are being shipped into our homeland by the millions each year, and the very continuance of their lives is funded directly and exclusively by the government welfare state. This goes against the very fundamental basics of humanity and what makes it glorious. They are doing this for a reason, and to tell you the truth my friends, I genuinely do not understand what the reason is.
“What justification could there be to consciously massacre those who keep you in power? Is it the possibility of losing trust in those who elected you? If you cannot hold onto power, than you do not deserve it. This is the primary issue with a civilization. No civilization can exist without rules, and no ruler can hold onto power forever. The enemy of every civilization is the very will of the people it rules over. The inextinguishable thirst for freedom which exists within everyone can never be satisfied under a civilized government, no matter how many so called freedoms and liberties it grants these people. The very definition of a society disables it from satisfying this need for personal freedom because it requires some sort of governing body.
“Today, across Europe and the Western world, those who we would deem civilized are growing tired of the restrictions on their freedom. These are men and women we must ally, but we must do so with caution. If the requirement of a society is a governing body, then the requirement of a government is a placid and domesticated peoples over which they may rule with abject recklessness, worrying not about any possible consequences. The civilized man is no different than a common housecat. They are weak, incapable, unable to survive in the wild if they were dumped there. But deep within, just as with pet cats, are the instincts which drove our ancestors to glory on the fields of battle.
“The reason I advocate for tribalism is simple. It is absolutely embedded within human nature. Every instinct we have implores us to break free from the chains of ‘free’ civilizations and experience life, love and battle just as nature intended. We are not meant to be caged animals. We are meant to conquer or die trying. We are meant to procreate for the continued existence of our race, and we are meant to share this planet with the natural orders of the gods.
“I am done supporting a crooked system. I have realized what must be done to bring this system down. I cannot aid directly in its downfall, because that will only lead to my execution. I mentioned earlier, that the problem is the solution. Do our rulers honestly believe a civilization can survive the importation of millions of U domesticated savages? What’s sad is that we almost should relate more to the refugees than our own domesticated selves. If I’m being completely honest, this isn’t so much different than the Germanic tribes disintegrating the Roman Empire. When the system is only designed to placate a helpless and complicit people, it is simply not equipped or prepared to handle domesticating new savages.
“Those who are alive in the system now are the result of hundreds of years of domestication and brainwashing to get the unthinking mind we have now. The system is no longer designed to brainwash, rather is is designed to maintain this world order. Colonization was supposed to enforce this order, but instead the greedy pigs simply raided them of their resources and left before they could placate the natives. I’m glad they allowed their own lust to doom the future of their corrupt system.
“Many people have the misconception about so-called white supremacists, of which many would claim I am one, that we want go about the entire planet and eradicate those who do not match our standards for genetic structure. This is not true for everyone who they would place in this category. When I was imprisoned in Norway for inciting revolution, I knew many skinheads, and I thought I was a part of them. I even talked often with the warden of the prison, and he sympathized with them and I. However, he wanted to draw a distinct difference between them and I. He saw I was, how you say, unique. He often invited me into his office to chat for long hours. One day he pointed out a specific skinhead and remarked, ‘I don’t know why he wants to be in Hitler’s Germany. He would hardly be considered an untermensch.’ I thought that was quite harsh at the time, but as I thought about it, I realized he was right.
“I am not a blatantly ignorant person. I recognize that there are good people and inferior people independent from race. The man whom the warden was referring to was not a particularly intelligent person. The thing about racism is it attracts those who could not or would not bother to attain any sense of self warrant through any other real means. They need only to associate with this movement, and behold, they have accomplished the great feat of being white and therefore do not need to worry about achieving any true honor like their ancestors did. This is not to say all racists are stupid, or lazy, just that by the very ideals of the movement itself, it is unavoidable that it would tend to attract these people. There was nothing wrong with the so-called untermensch, but he may not have been able to really accomplish a higher position for himself with the racist movement.
“I want to attain honor for myself, to live up to the names of those who came before me, and those who fought so I may live. I want to make a name for myself which my descendants may carry on in reverence, and hope one day to live up to themselves. I want to inspire my offspring to hold themselves to a higher standard. I do not necessarily place the superiority of my race, which I did not choose, above the well being of my bloodline. The reason I will resist the establishment is not because it seeks to enforce White Genocide alone, but because my children will be white and I want to protect them.
“The important thing to me, and all European pagan tribalist traditionalists, is the survival and well being of our bloodline. The current world order is directly threatening the very lives of children who have yet to be born simply because of their skin color. The methods they are using can only be maintained through an absolute control of the people they have domesticated. When the system falls, and it will, the tools they are using will disintegrate. Whether they be migrants who cannot survive in this environment on their own, a state police force used to obliterate all potential dissidents, or even the filth they market to us as food to sap us of our energy, these things cannot be sustained outside of civilization.
“We must allow it to destroy itself. These very symptoms of the problem will destroy the problem itself as well, and allow us to start again. We will return Europe to the way our forebears lived. We do not need fascism, or national socialism, or any other government which white supremacists claims to be superior to all other forms of mass enslavement. I am not a fascist, I am not a national socialist or a ‘Nazi,’ I am a Neo Nordicist. I am not a communist or a capitalist, I am an most closely associated to anarchism. Man needs no one but their ancestors and the spirit of man to tell them how to live a just and moral life. No matter the form in which the government takes, it is still nothing more than a means of enslavement.
“Many argue that National Socialism is the government of white supremacy, for white supremacy. Might I ask, why is it that the vast, vast majority of those murdered by its armies were white Europeans? Nazism was more closely related to a religion than a government, preaching to slaughter those who do not conform and claiming divine right from its leader to do so. We must no longer devolve into brother wars fought against those who would share our values and genetics. We must unite to overthrow those who wish to see us eradicated from this continent, our rightful homeland, inherited from our forebears.
“From now on, I will live my life with the intention of contributing as little as I possibly can to this evil empire. I will live ‘off the grid’ without paying into the corporations which control the government of this broken country. I will survive off of my own hunting and gathering, and my children be homeschooled to shield them from the brainwashing at public schools. I will no longer own a television so it may not poison my or my children’s minds. I will only use the platform of the New Media, which is essential to the liberation of our people. I do not need an extravagant lifestyle, I do not need novelties or possessions, I do not even need a mansion. I need only land to hunt and farm, and a platform to get my voice out there. That is why I will be doing two things. Number one, I will be challenging Teddy Blaze for that Internet Championship. I can use that as the ultimate public broadcast system to force people to take the red pill. And number two…”
Dag reaches his hand out and knocks over the candle in a nonchalant fashion. Immediately around him, a pentagram of fire arises formed to of gasoline. Sparks and embers fly from the wooden floor around Dag, lapping at the wooden walls and scraping the metal decorations. The hunger contained within the flames drives it to consume, unrelentingly and indifferently. In the center of the roaring ring of death, Dag continues to sit cross legged, unintimidated by the living death surrounding him.
“I will live a simpler life. I will live as my forebears did. I will honor their legacy by facing the trials and hardships they faced. I will return this world to the way it once was, the way it should be, one brick at a time. That starts with myself. My ancestors believed that fire had a regenerative property to it. Fire consumes all that which may be consumed, absorbing the energy contained within. These positive particles are transformed into pure energy, floating freely through the air, until they are cooled, and then they may return to the ground, solidifying, spreading their rejuvenating energies throughout the environment to be harvested by new life. This new life benefits from a purer form of energy, harvested from the old, corrupted entities. Only the cleanest life force is used to further the natural world after a fire.
“I wish to shed my corrupted particles and allow my positive aspects to coalesce into a purer form so that I may be born again in an honest, honorable state. Fire consumes, and fire creates. I wish to be recreated.”
The camera shuts off.
Chapter 2: Rebirth
Sirens blaring
Demons staring
Poison is born
The pain is borne
Rage is flaring
Peace is scorn
The time of rebirth is upon us. As order melts away, chaos incarnate tests himself. He wishes to survive the loss of the chains holding him down. If he cannot come out on the other side absent his restraints, he wishes to not come out at all. The bath he’s lain in is absent all reason. There can be no compromise. The desire for a new life can lead to success or death. It’s a lonely road to absolution, we must walk alone.
Vicariously he watched as the whole world died. Now this era of transience is over. The time to take action has led one to start with his own being. A simple look in the mirror, and a fatal blow to said mirror, before deciding which vision in the mirror was the reflection and which was reality. A desperate attempt to found a new reality, a new image in his own design. It either succeeds or fails, there is no in between.
Those who wish to stop him in the midst of this process have begun to arrive. The state’s life enforcement troops are pulling their asset salvation vehicles into the driveway of Dagvald’s former mansion estate. If they find him, it’s all over. He will be hospitalized, and be indebted to his oppressors. After that, likely jailed for crimes against the people, or extradited to Norway. Only if they can relate him to the alias he used. He must escape.
The fumes cloud his vision as well as his judgement. He must take a moment and breathe deeply through his surplus army jacket’s cloth as the best filter he can get. It’s cripplingly hot in this piece of hell on Earth. Through his peripheral vision, he can see what he once held in high esteem dissolving around him. His precious mansion, containing his trophies and symbols of decadence, is being purified into oblivion. He will no longer pay for natural gas, electricity, water, or any other white genocide promoting tax. The fires around him are doing their job well, but threaten to do it too well. His clothes are disintegrating in the extreme heat, bringing the reality closer to his bare skin.
He gets low, eyeing a way out. He sees the door. It’s bolt locked on the outside, just as he left it. This isn’t meant to be easy, either for him or the would be rescuers. To his right is the entrance to the emergency tunnel he’d constructed years ago. He has only to remove the lion’s head mount from above the fireplace. He climbs through the hole in the well, across the chimney, then down the ladder on the other side, between his living room and kitchen. It isn’t far, but the lack of oxygen and light makes it easier to spot and snuff the flames breeding themselves on the fringes of his tattered clothes.
He comes out of the tunnel in the mountainous woods of Virginia, with a long way to travel. As he does so, the emergency responders bust down the massive, wooden, elaborately ornate double doors carved by German craftsmen, the most expensive pieces in his entire estate. He won’t get far on his journey with his jacket and pants barely covering his body, so he stops at the stash he hid under a large fake rock. He changes into the civilian clothing, wearing a v-neck for the first time in his life. A few hundred in cash, a new identity’s credentials, (one of countless he’s been under), and a dagger of suspicious origin are all he needs to embark on the journey to his new existence. Before he leaves, he takes a moment to heavily bandage his burns and bruises. His clothes had been chosen in advance to cover up such damage.
Chapter 3: Eye of the Storm
It takes only a few days for Dag to make it cross country to his new property. It’s a hilly, wooded territory not much unlike his former estate in Roanoke. He’d bought it weeks ago using funds allotted him from the failed revolutionary efforts in Norway. Just an hour from Portland, Oregon, it will provide everything he needs to prepare for the collapse of society. Which, conveniently, will be happening all around him at this location, which is part of the reason he chose it as well.
He is now living in but a modest prefabricated steel structure, heated by fireplace and lit by candles. He doesn’t have a nice camera to record himself with anymore, just an inactive phone which he’ll have to take to a wifi hotspot to upload this video. Regardless, he still takes calling out his opponents quite seriously.
“I gave Seth some very specific instructions… Instructions even an infant could follow. Did he manage to go along with them? Let’s find out.
“As you have seen, my advertised match for Slam is a fatal four way match where the winner advances to another fatal four way match. The first fatal four way is not for the internet championship, so that’s a strike on Seth’s part. But maybe, and this would be reasonable, the next fatal four way is the internet title match. This could all just be a sort of tournament to determine the most deserved number one contender (which I could have just told Seth is me) (oh right, I did).
“Alas, Seth fucked that up too. He had a perfect opportunity to hand me the title here, or even, for crying out loud, give me the number one contender’s spot after winning this mini-tournament but he failed to even do that. In classic Seth fashion, he dropped the ball and blew an opportunity. This brings back memories, so many memories, of the Family. You had a collection of the most capable competitors in WCF history, a stable that rivaled Pantheon and the DRG in sheer talent level, but Seth, through his incompetence, squandered it and made it look like it was Logan and I who fucked it up. Can you believe that? The very thought of Logan or Dag Riddik being subpar wrestlers! We are two of the greatest of all time!
“I warned Seth. I told him that if he dares put me in a match not for the internet title, then whomever I happen to be facing will see their career ended. Now that I think about it, perhaps this one’s on me, guys. Looking at the abortions of the ‘talent’ he put me up against, maybe that’s what he wants to happen anyway. I’m going to break these jokers down in short, sharp fashion, because frankly, I really don’t need to spend a lot of time on any of these three, and I really don’t have much to say about them. That’s not to say anything about my own sharp wit, but rather the unremarkable ‘careers’ they’ve led.
“First off, and this is important, this jackass Sebastian Knight decided to rip off my fucking entrance to One. That is absolute insanity. In his first match in the company, hell, he rips off not only my glorious entrance, but my entire debut from last year’s One event. I debuted at One, fought a level of competition so far beneath me that it wouldn’t be visible if I looked down at it, then I acted like I own the place. This guy did the same thing, the exact same thing, but he decided to take it a step further by ripping off my entrance for this year’s One as well.
“Listen, Knight, anyone can pretend to be a king. You proved that at One. But only true kings can have the presence to fulfill the role organically. I flaunted my glory, my prestige, my ability, my honor, my talent, my commanding willpower. You are no king. You sat upon your ‘throne’ like a prettied-up show cat at a pet store beauty competition. You had no idea what you were doing, why you were there, why you had to behave a certain way, why you had to wear that ridiculous attire, and definitely no idea why anyone was bothering to look at you. It was laughable, really. I cringed at how uncomfortable you were, how you were obviously out of place.
“You thought you could make a grandiose entrance, a great debut, to intimidate all those who have the misfortune of facing you in the future. To play mind games with your rival in the ring. All you managed to do was make a fool of yourself. From now on, you’ll be remembered as the gussied up show cat good for nothing but playing dress up. Look man, I watched your match, too, even if I did so to see just how far you would go to embarrass yourself that night. You did fairly well. You beat the other no name who I’m sure isn’t even booked this week, but a win is a win is a win, no? You look like you could’ve passed as a tough guy or even an alpha male at a local New York night club. Sadly for you, you have forever tarnished that image by coming to the ring in a costume that made you look like a little boy clamoring to be something more than he really is. They say if the shoe fits, my friend, and clearly, your feet were too small. Maybe someday, if you train hard, eat your vitamins, and say your prayers, you’ll get to be somewhere near my level, and earn the right and the stoicism to be carried to the ring in a throne and not look like a jackass.
“Onto Damian Kaine. I really shouldn’t be bothering with you, but I guess the whole wrestling world is just absolutely buzzing after your big win! Oh, boy, what a huge win! A singles victory for Damian Kaine, at One, no less! I don’t… Why does this matter? Every single match last night had a winner, somebody has to win these matches. Nobody threw a party for me when I won my matches, and I’ve won a LOT. After some research, it turns out this match mattered because you have been consistently losing a number of matches over the past months.
“You Damian, embody the participation trophy award winner. You’ve led perhaps the most lackluster year of anyone who’s consistently showed up to fight again after loss after loss after loss. Sure, I have to give you credit for sticking in there and trying every chance you can. Even Trump gave Hillary credit for trying oh so very hard throughout the campaign. But it wasn’t hard enough, was it? She fucking L O S T. She had many, many times when she looked to be ahead, winning, gathering momentum and about to win the whole thing. But when it mattered, everything she’d done collapsed in on itself before her very eyes. That’s exactly what’s going to happen here, for you, Damian. You may, no, you almost certainly think that your victory at One was your high point. You think the battle is already won. You think you’ve had your career defining moment, the victory which will propel you to the very top of the card. You think you can only go up from here.
“That’s where you’re wrong, kiddo. You’ve set the bar so low that your own overconfidence will be your downfall. You’ve doomed yourself to a lifetime of mediocrity, and that descent into oblivion begins at Slam. You will lose this match, that I can guarantee you. I may not even be able to guarantee my victory, but I can damn well guarantee you will lose miserably. You are just that pathetic. Everything about you screams inferiority. I will not reveal anything groundbreaking when you lose this match, most likely to my hand, but I will hopefully continue to drive the point home that you simply cannot cut it in this competitive environment.
“Finally, Ethan King, the man who made a name for himself and his compadres just like Mr. Knight did. Immediately upon arrival in this company, you hopped on the Dag Riddik train and tried to scrape off a crumb of my glory and prestige for yourselves. You pathetic bottom feeders couldn’t have accomplished anything had it not been for your association with me. If I had to choose one thing I regret over my entire career, it would be not going on hiatus until you found someone else to leech off of. I should have left the company the moment I realized what you were doing so your pathetic joke of a stable wouldn’t have gotten the publicity it did. I am embarrassed to be in any way associated with you. The funny thing is, eventually, I did manage to drive you off with sheer mental capacity which you and your companions simply could not handle.
“In the end, not only did I convince you it was in your best interests to stop harassing me on social media, but hell, I even ran you out of the fuckin’ company! When the fed shut down and I was set to go full time to my homeland, you said, ‘Fuck this, there’s nothing here for me to build a career off of without that Dag Cooper dude, holy shit lmfao, aren’t I pathetic.’ And gone you were, not seen for months at a time. Finally, at least one of your friends, the stupidest one, was able to be manipulated into joining up with you again and helping prop you up. I almost feel bad for Felt, I mean, the guy is just so fuckin’ clueless. He doesn’t see that both of your careers should be equally miserable, but because he lets you step all over him, you manage to get the slightest edge. Your ability to take advantage of someone dumber than you is actually quite impressive, if only because you found someone who’s dumber than you to begin with.
“I should have more to say about you, Ethan, but your time with the company is just not impressive. It really doesn’t hold up compared to likes of historical talent like Bad News Benson or Captain WCF. The fact that you don’t realize this is almost depressing, if it weren’t so hilarious and entertaining. Seeing you flop about like a fish out of water is really disgusting, but I simply can’t look away. I do look forward to seeing you gasping for air after this next loss Sunday.
“I have so many important things to do, and here I am sat inside my ‘house’ bitching about idiots who have no real impact on my life. You do not matter to my career goals, you do not matter to my overall goals, and you just don’t matter to me on a personal level. Hell, I have a bigger issue with Seth for putting me in this match than I do you morons. On that note, I’m going to wrap this up, because Seth and I need to have a talk. I’ll see you in the ring, if you have the balls to show up.”
In a dark setting of auroral lighting and flickering intensity, the figure of Dag strikes out of a silhouette flung against a wall. The candle in front of him picks and chooses the pieces of his being it wants to reveal with careless lament. His clothes are tattered and torn and his beard is scratching his collar with abandon. It is against Pagan traditions to shave during Yule. He adjusts the camera one last time before he begins speaking. His monologue is unrelentingly convinced in its own assessment of the truth of reality.
“My name is Dagvald Riddik Erikson. I am a full blooded Norwegian descendant in a lineage of glorious warriors who have defended my homeland for generations. We never wanted for much, and there was never much to want for. For as far back as records exist, and the memories of my forebears preserve them, the honor of my ancestors tells of valor in battle and generosity in peace. We have never chosen the wrong side of history, even if the victors would say otherwise. Or course, the peace treaty and the history books are written by the same hand.
“In the Viking age, my forebear Rohnst Davidson, fought valiantly in the conquest of modern Scotland. When Leif Erikson discovered the Vinland, my forebear Varg Peterson accompanied him on the perilous voyage. My grandfather volunteered for the German army in the First World War at age 16 on the Eastern Front, only to die defending our homeland from Nazi paratroopers twenty years later. His son Erik, my father, engaged selflessly in guerilla warfare to chase out the pretender scum while the Americans bombed our cities and the British died for sand in the deserts.
“We Norwegians, you see, are imbued with warrior’s spirit. We do not mind whether the outcome of a battle is determined from even before the outset of fighting. We could not stop the Nazis from conquering the country, but we could stop them from conquering us, from conquering the people. The fighting spirit of a Norseman cannot be snuffed out, no matter how dire the situation or insurmountable the odds. Even when faced with outright hopelessness, we will fight on, for the honor of our ancestors and the glory of our gods. We are taught of our superiorities in battle not out of foolish pride or some sort of racial supremacy, but out of necessity. If you go into a battle not already confident you are going to win, then you have already lost. We Nordics fight too many battles to go in set to lose.
“Growing up in Roanoke, VA separated me from these values. I never noticed how cheated I was of my rites as a Norwegian until I returned to the land of my forebears. Despite the puppet government established by the west after Norway had been dismantled by the Nazis as well as the Americans and British, the people still try desperately to fan the flames of their culture and keep the torch burning. The government pushes multiculturalism, diversity, socialism, and subservience to the American liberal masters, but these people are no strangers to having their entire way of life under siege from all sides.
“When Christianity came to Europe from the desert, it brought with it the desert. Our idols were defaced or destroyed, our sacred sites burned, or traditions devalued and repurposed. For a thousand years now, our ideologies have been under assault from foreign ideas designed to turn us into slaves for foreign masters. I am no stranger to harshly criticizing the poison of Islam, but that by no means indicates any preference of any other religion. Every single desert religion is nothing more than a political ideology designed to justify anachronistic autocratic rule over large swaths of people and permit their sending to die in meaningless wars.
“Today, we have the illusion of free will and freedom of choice maintained by the strings pulled by the international community dominated by the United States. For eight years, on top of that, the United States has been taking their orders from an Islamic agent. Obama has used his power far beyond any president who came before him, and now all across Europe are leaders who bow to the whim of a barbaric sect. They thought they could establish a new world order. They thought that they could maintain power indefinitely not by convincing the people of their country that they are best for their interests, but by simply importing hundreds of thousands of willing voters. Now that idiotic plan has backfired, and the people are finally willing to rise up and take action.
“But they are doing it all wrong. There are so, so many misconceptions about me out there in the public eye. I am both idolized and hated by those on all sides of the political spectrum. What they don’t know is that I am not on the political spectrum. I am not a national socialist, I am not a skinhead, I am not a secularist, am a Neo-Nordicist. I abhor capitalism and socialism all the same. They are simply two paths to the same result: enslavement of the populous.
“I will not support the enslavement of my people through either of these chains. I will do everything in my power to further along the natural destruction of the current world order. I will not consume and I will not produce anything which is not absolutely necessary to my well being. I will not contribute to the oppression of my brothers and sisters under a corrupt system! The White Genocide is real. The plans have been in place since WWII. Sadly, mistakes were made that cannot be undone. They have sealed the fate of our children and our children’s children. Only if everyone would follow our own ancestors’ plan can we salvage the future of the white race.
“We must not save civilization. That’s not at all what this is about. Civilization is a product of race mixing, when savages are given a platform to share space with those who are above them, regardless of their position in the social hierarchy. Our forebears, for millennia, did not need civilization to thrive and prosper. Civilization is a crutch to make up for the shortcomings of those within it. It is the problem, and the problem is the solution. Everything wrong with society is the explanation for the failures of every civilization in history. If we were united in a heterogeneous environment where we relied only on those who share our blood and beliefs, then we would have no use for civilization.
“Every cent given to the governments of these civilizations is a cent which will be used to annihilate those who support them. Through tax funded programs, our rulers seek to genocide us in an international holocaust unlike anything the world has ever seen. Rapefugees are being shipped into our homeland by the millions each year, and the very continuance of their lives is funded directly and exclusively by the government welfare state. This goes against the very fundamental basics of humanity and what makes it glorious. They are doing this for a reason, and to tell you the truth my friends, I genuinely do not understand what the reason is.
“What justification could there be to consciously massacre those who keep you in power? Is it the possibility of losing trust in those who elected you? If you cannot hold onto power, than you do not deserve it. This is the primary issue with a civilization. No civilization can exist without rules, and no ruler can hold onto power forever. The enemy of every civilization is the very will of the people it rules over. The inextinguishable thirst for freedom which exists within everyone can never be satisfied under a civilized government, no matter how many so called freedoms and liberties it grants these people. The very definition of a society disables it from satisfying this need for personal freedom because it requires some sort of governing body.
“Today, across Europe and the Western world, those who we would deem civilized are growing tired of the restrictions on their freedom. These are men and women we must ally, but we must do so with caution. If the requirement of a society is a governing body, then the requirement of a government is a placid and domesticated peoples over which they may rule with abject recklessness, worrying not about any possible consequences. The civilized man is no different than a common housecat. They are weak, incapable, unable to survive in the wild if they were dumped there. But deep within, just as with pet cats, are the instincts which drove our ancestors to glory on the fields of battle.
“The reason I advocate for tribalism is simple. It is absolutely embedded within human nature. Every instinct we have implores us to break free from the chains of ‘free’ civilizations and experience life, love and battle just as nature intended. We are not meant to be caged animals. We are meant to conquer or die trying. We are meant to procreate for the continued existence of our race, and we are meant to share this planet with the natural orders of the gods.
“I am done supporting a crooked system. I have realized what must be done to bring this system down. I cannot aid directly in its downfall, because that will only lead to my execution. I mentioned earlier, that the problem is the solution. Do our rulers honestly believe a civilization can survive the importation of millions of U domesticated savages? What’s sad is that we almost should relate more to the refugees than our own domesticated selves. If I’m being completely honest, this isn’t so much different than the Germanic tribes disintegrating the Roman Empire. When the system is only designed to placate a helpless and complicit people, it is simply not equipped or prepared to handle domesticating new savages.
“Those who are alive in the system now are the result of hundreds of years of domestication and brainwashing to get the unthinking mind we have now. The system is no longer designed to brainwash, rather is is designed to maintain this world order. Colonization was supposed to enforce this order, but instead the greedy pigs simply raided them of their resources and left before they could placate the natives. I’m glad they allowed their own lust to doom the future of their corrupt system.
“Many people have the misconception about so-called white supremacists, of which many would claim I am one, that we want go about the entire planet and eradicate those who do not match our standards for genetic structure. This is not true for everyone who they would place in this category. When I was imprisoned in Norway for inciting revolution, I knew many skinheads, and I thought I was a part of them. I even talked often with the warden of the prison, and he sympathized with them and I. However, he wanted to draw a distinct difference between them and I. He saw I was, how you say, unique. He often invited me into his office to chat for long hours. One day he pointed out a specific skinhead and remarked, ‘I don’t know why he wants to be in Hitler’s Germany. He would hardly be considered an untermensch.’ I thought that was quite harsh at the time, but as I thought about it, I realized he was right.
“I am not a blatantly ignorant person. I recognize that there are good people and inferior people independent from race. The man whom the warden was referring to was not a particularly intelligent person. The thing about racism is it attracts those who could not or would not bother to attain any sense of self warrant through any other real means. They need only to associate with this movement, and behold, they have accomplished the great feat of being white and therefore do not need to worry about achieving any true honor like their ancestors did. This is not to say all racists are stupid, or lazy, just that by the very ideals of the movement itself, it is unavoidable that it would tend to attract these people. There was nothing wrong with the so-called untermensch, but he may not have been able to really accomplish a higher position for himself with the racist movement.
“I want to attain honor for myself, to live up to the names of those who came before me, and those who fought so I may live. I want to make a name for myself which my descendants may carry on in reverence, and hope one day to live up to themselves. I want to inspire my offspring to hold themselves to a higher standard. I do not necessarily place the superiority of my race, which I did not choose, above the well being of my bloodline. The reason I will resist the establishment is not because it seeks to enforce White Genocide alone, but because my children will be white and I want to protect them.
“The important thing to me, and all European pagan tribalist traditionalists, is the survival and well being of our bloodline. The current world order is directly threatening the very lives of children who have yet to be born simply because of their skin color. The methods they are using can only be maintained through an absolute control of the people they have domesticated. When the system falls, and it will, the tools they are using will disintegrate. Whether they be migrants who cannot survive in this environment on their own, a state police force used to obliterate all potential dissidents, or even the filth they market to us as food to sap us of our energy, these things cannot be sustained outside of civilization.
“We must allow it to destroy itself. These very symptoms of the problem will destroy the problem itself as well, and allow us to start again. We will return Europe to the way our forebears lived. We do not need fascism, or national socialism, or any other government which white supremacists claims to be superior to all other forms of mass enslavement. I am not a fascist, I am not a national socialist or a ‘Nazi,’ I am a Neo Nordicist. I am not a communist or a capitalist, I am an most closely associated to anarchism. Man needs no one but their ancestors and the spirit of man to tell them how to live a just and moral life. No matter the form in which the government takes, it is still nothing more than a means of enslavement.
“Many argue that National Socialism is the government of white supremacy, for white supremacy. Might I ask, why is it that the vast, vast majority of those murdered by its armies were white Europeans? Nazism was more closely related to a religion than a government, preaching to slaughter those who do not conform and claiming divine right from its leader to do so. We must no longer devolve into brother wars fought against those who would share our values and genetics. We must unite to overthrow those who wish to see us eradicated from this continent, our rightful homeland, inherited from our forebears.
“From now on, I will live my life with the intention of contributing as little as I possibly can to this evil empire. I will live ‘off the grid’ without paying into the corporations which control the government of this broken country. I will survive off of my own hunting and gathering, and my children be homeschooled to shield them from the brainwashing at public schools. I will no longer own a television so it may not poison my or my children’s minds. I will only use the platform of the New Media, which is essential to the liberation of our people. I do not need an extravagant lifestyle, I do not need novelties or possessions, I do not even need a mansion. I need only land to hunt and farm, and a platform to get my voice out there. That is why I will be doing two things. Number one, I will be challenging Teddy Blaze for that Internet Championship. I can use that as the ultimate public broadcast system to force people to take the red pill. And number two…”
Dag reaches his hand out and knocks over the candle in a nonchalant fashion. Immediately around him, a pentagram of fire arises formed to of gasoline. Sparks and embers fly from the wooden floor around Dag, lapping at the wooden walls and scraping the metal decorations. The hunger contained within the flames drives it to consume, unrelentingly and indifferently. In the center of the roaring ring of death, Dag continues to sit cross legged, unintimidated by the living death surrounding him.
“I will live a simpler life. I will live as my forebears did. I will honor their legacy by facing the trials and hardships they faced. I will return this world to the way it once was, the way it should be, one brick at a time. That starts with myself. My ancestors believed that fire had a regenerative property to it. Fire consumes all that which may be consumed, absorbing the energy contained within. These positive particles are transformed into pure energy, floating freely through the air, until they are cooled, and then they may return to the ground, solidifying, spreading their rejuvenating energies throughout the environment to be harvested by new life. This new life benefits from a purer form of energy, harvested from the old, corrupted entities. Only the cleanest life force is used to further the natural world after a fire.
“I wish to shed my corrupted particles and allow my positive aspects to coalesce into a purer form so that I may be born again in an honest, honorable state. Fire consumes, and fire creates. I wish to be recreated.”
The camera shuts off.
Chapter 2: Rebirth
Sirens blaring
Demons staring
Poison is born
The pain is borne
Rage is flaring
Peace is scorn
The time of rebirth is upon us. As order melts away, chaos incarnate tests himself. He wishes to survive the loss of the chains holding him down. If he cannot come out on the other side absent his restraints, he wishes to not come out at all. The bath he’s lain in is absent all reason. There can be no compromise. The desire for a new life can lead to success or death. It’s a lonely road to absolution, we must walk alone.
Vicariously he watched as the whole world died. Now this era of transience is over. The time to take action has led one to start with his own being. A simple look in the mirror, and a fatal blow to said mirror, before deciding which vision in the mirror was the reflection and which was reality. A desperate attempt to found a new reality, a new image in his own design. It either succeeds or fails, there is no in between.
Those who wish to stop him in the midst of this process have begun to arrive. The state’s life enforcement troops are pulling their asset salvation vehicles into the driveway of Dagvald’s former mansion estate. If they find him, it’s all over. He will be hospitalized, and be indebted to his oppressors. After that, likely jailed for crimes against the people, or extradited to Norway. Only if they can relate him to the alias he used. He must escape.
The fumes cloud his vision as well as his judgement. He must take a moment and breathe deeply through his surplus army jacket’s cloth as the best filter he can get. It’s cripplingly hot in this piece of hell on Earth. Through his peripheral vision, he can see what he once held in high esteem dissolving around him. His precious mansion, containing his trophies and symbols of decadence, is being purified into oblivion. He will no longer pay for natural gas, electricity, water, or any other white genocide promoting tax. The fires around him are doing their job well, but threaten to do it too well. His clothes are disintegrating in the extreme heat, bringing the reality closer to his bare skin.
He gets low, eyeing a way out. He sees the door. It’s bolt locked on the outside, just as he left it. This isn’t meant to be easy, either for him or the would be rescuers. To his right is the entrance to the emergency tunnel he’d constructed years ago. He has only to remove the lion’s head mount from above the fireplace. He climbs through the hole in the well, across the chimney, then down the ladder on the other side, between his living room and kitchen. It isn’t far, but the lack of oxygen and light makes it easier to spot and snuff the flames breeding themselves on the fringes of his tattered clothes.
He comes out of the tunnel in the mountainous woods of Virginia, with a long way to travel. As he does so, the emergency responders bust down the massive, wooden, elaborately ornate double doors carved by German craftsmen, the most expensive pieces in his entire estate. He won’t get far on his journey with his jacket and pants barely covering his body, so he stops at the stash he hid under a large fake rock. He changes into the civilian clothing, wearing a v-neck for the first time in his life. A few hundred in cash, a new identity’s credentials, (one of countless he’s been under), and a dagger of suspicious origin are all he needs to embark on the journey to his new existence. Before he leaves, he takes a moment to heavily bandage his burns and bruises. His clothes had been chosen in advance to cover up such damage.
Chapter 3: Eye of the Storm
It takes only a few days for Dag to make it cross country to his new property. It’s a hilly, wooded territory not much unlike his former estate in Roanoke. He’d bought it weeks ago using funds allotted him from the failed revolutionary efforts in Norway. Just an hour from Portland, Oregon, it will provide everything he needs to prepare for the collapse of society. Which, conveniently, will be happening all around him at this location, which is part of the reason he chose it as well.
He is now living in but a modest prefabricated steel structure, heated by fireplace and lit by candles. He doesn’t have a nice camera to record himself with anymore, just an inactive phone which he’ll have to take to a wifi hotspot to upload this video. Regardless, he still takes calling out his opponents quite seriously.
“I gave Seth some very specific instructions… Instructions even an infant could follow. Did he manage to go along with them? Let’s find out.
“As you have seen, my advertised match for Slam is a fatal four way match where the winner advances to another fatal four way match. The first fatal four way is not for the internet championship, so that’s a strike on Seth’s part. But maybe, and this would be reasonable, the next fatal four way is the internet title match. This could all just be a sort of tournament to determine the most deserved number one contender (which I could have just told Seth is me) (oh right, I did).
“Alas, Seth fucked that up too. He had a perfect opportunity to hand me the title here, or even, for crying out loud, give me the number one contender’s spot after winning this mini-tournament but he failed to even do that. In classic Seth fashion, he dropped the ball and blew an opportunity. This brings back memories, so many memories, of the Family. You had a collection of the most capable competitors in WCF history, a stable that rivaled Pantheon and the DRG in sheer talent level, but Seth, through his incompetence, squandered it and made it look like it was Logan and I who fucked it up. Can you believe that? The very thought of Logan or Dag Riddik being subpar wrestlers! We are two of the greatest of all time!
“I warned Seth. I told him that if he dares put me in a match not for the internet title, then whomever I happen to be facing will see their career ended. Now that I think about it, perhaps this one’s on me, guys. Looking at the abortions of the ‘talent’ he put me up against, maybe that’s what he wants to happen anyway. I’m going to break these jokers down in short, sharp fashion, because frankly, I really don’t need to spend a lot of time on any of these three, and I really don’t have much to say about them. That’s not to say anything about my own sharp wit, but rather the unremarkable ‘careers’ they’ve led.
“First off, and this is important, this jackass Sebastian Knight decided to rip off my fucking entrance to One. That is absolute insanity. In his first match in the company, hell, he rips off not only my glorious entrance, but my entire debut from last year’s One event. I debuted at One, fought a level of competition so far beneath me that it wouldn’t be visible if I looked down at it, then I acted like I own the place. This guy did the same thing, the exact same thing, but he decided to take it a step further by ripping off my entrance for this year’s One as well.
“Listen, Knight, anyone can pretend to be a king. You proved that at One. But only true kings can have the presence to fulfill the role organically. I flaunted my glory, my prestige, my ability, my honor, my talent, my commanding willpower. You are no king. You sat upon your ‘throne’ like a prettied-up show cat at a pet store beauty competition. You had no idea what you were doing, why you were there, why you had to behave a certain way, why you had to wear that ridiculous attire, and definitely no idea why anyone was bothering to look at you. It was laughable, really. I cringed at how uncomfortable you were, how you were obviously out of place.
“You thought you could make a grandiose entrance, a great debut, to intimidate all those who have the misfortune of facing you in the future. To play mind games with your rival in the ring. All you managed to do was make a fool of yourself. From now on, you’ll be remembered as the gussied up show cat good for nothing but playing dress up. Look man, I watched your match, too, even if I did so to see just how far you would go to embarrass yourself that night. You did fairly well. You beat the other no name who I’m sure isn’t even booked this week, but a win is a win is a win, no? You look like you could’ve passed as a tough guy or even an alpha male at a local New York night club. Sadly for you, you have forever tarnished that image by coming to the ring in a costume that made you look like a little boy clamoring to be something more than he really is. They say if the shoe fits, my friend, and clearly, your feet were too small. Maybe someday, if you train hard, eat your vitamins, and say your prayers, you’ll get to be somewhere near my level, and earn the right and the stoicism to be carried to the ring in a throne and not look like a jackass.
“Onto Damian Kaine. I really shouldn’t be bothering with you, but I guess the whole wrestling world is just absolutely buzzing after your big win! Oh, boy, what a huge win! A singles victory for Damian Kaine, at One, no less! I don’t… Why does this matter? Every single match last night had a winner, somebody has to win these matches. Nobody threw a party for me when I won my matches, and I’ve won a LOT. After some research, it turns out this match mattered because you have been consistently losing a number of matches over the past months.
“You Damian, embody the participation trophy award winner. You’ve led perhaps the most lackluster year of anyone who’s consistently showed up to fight again after loss after loss after loss. Sure, I have to give you credit for sticking in there and trying every chance you can. Even Trump gave Hillary credit for trying oh so very hard throughout the campaign. But it wasn’t hard enough, was it? She fucking L O S T. She had many, many times when she looked to be ahead, winning, gathering momentum and about to win the whole thing. But when it mattered, everything she’d done collapsed in on itself before her very eyes. That’s exactly what’s going to happen here, for you, Damian. You may, no, you almost certainly think that your victory at One was your high point. You think the battle is already won. You think you’ve had your career defining moment, the victory which will propel you to the very top of the card. You think you can only go up from here.
“That’s where you’re wrong, kiddo. You’ve set the bar so low that your own overconfidence will be your downfall. You’ve doomed yourself to a lifetime of mediocrity, and that descent into oblivion begins at Slam. You will lose this match, that I can guarantee you. I may not even be able to guarantee my victory, but I can damn well guarantee you will lose miserably. You are just that pathetic. Everything about you screams inferiority. I will not reveal anything groundbreaking when you lose this match, most likely to my hand, but I will hopefully continue to drive the point home that you simply cannot cut it in this competitive environment.
“Finally, Ethan King, the man who made a name for himself and his compadres just like Mr. Knight did. Immediately upon arrival in this company, you hopped on the Dag Riddik train and tried to scrape off a crumb of my glory and prestige for yourselves. You pathetic bottom feeders couldn’t have accomplished anything had it not been for your association with me. If I had to choose one thing I regret over my entire career, it would be not going on hiatus until you found someone else to leech off of. I should have left the company the moment I realized what you were doing so your pathetic joke of a stable wouldn’t have gotten the publicity it did. I am embarrassed to be in any way associated with you. The funny thing is, eventually, I did manage to drive you off with sheer mental capacity which you and your companions simply could not handle.
“In the end, not only did I convince you it was in your best interests to stop harassing me on social media, but hell, I even ran you out of the fuckin’ company! When the fed shut down and I was set to go full time to my homeland, you said, ‘Fuck this, there’s nothing here for me to build a career off of without that Dag Cooper dude, holy shit lmfao, aren’t I pathetic.’ And gone you were, not seen for months at a time. Finally, at least one of your friends, the stupidest one, was able to be manipulated into joining up with you again and helping prop you up. I almost feel bad for Felt, I mean, the guy is just so fuckin’ clueless. He doesn’t see that both of your careers should be equally miserable, but because he lets you step all over him, you manage to get the slightest edge. Your ability to take advantage of someone dumber than you is actually quite impressive, if only because you found someone who’s dumber than you to begin with.
“I should have more to say about you, Ethan, but your time with the company is just not impressive. It really doesn’t hold up compared to likes of historical talent like Bad News Benson or Captain WCF. The fact that you don’t realize this is almost depressing, if it weren’t so hilarious and entertaining. Seeing you flop about like a fish out of water is really disgusting, but I simply can’t look away. I do look forward to seeing you gasping for air after this next loss Sunday.
“I have so many important things to do, and here I am sat inside my ‘house’ bitching about idiots who have no real impact on my life. You do not matter to my career goals, you do not matter to my overall goals, and you just don’t matter to me on a personal level. Hell, I have a bigger issue with Seth for putting me in this match than I do you morons. On that note, I’m going to wrap this up, because Seth and I need to have a talk. I’ll see you in the ring, if you have the balls to show up.”