Ernst Fischer stood at the foot of Hamburgs more modern skyscrapers. It surely wasn’t one of the tallest buildings in the cities skyline, but it surely fulfilled its purpose of representing the wealth of its owner. He stepped through the front door and approached the receptionist - a pretty, young lady staring intently at the screen in front of her. As Ernst reached the other side of her desk she looked up at him, and started eyeing him down, before she began to speak.
“Welcome to ‘Schall & Rauch’, how may I help you?”
His extensive wardrobe proved good service to Ernst, overcoming this first hurdle.
“Yeah, I came here to see mister Schaller.”
Just as this sentence left his mouth, the receptionist’s welcoming gaze turned into a suspicious look.
“Do you have an appointment with mister Schaller?”
Of course Fischer came prepared. During the past weeks he found his way into countless high class dinner parties, just to catch Fiedrich Schallers attention and talk him into what he believed was a business meeting.
“Of course I do. My name is Ernst Fischer from ‘Era-Midway I.T.O.U.’. He knows I’m coming”
Obviously ‘Ernst Fischer’ was not his real name and ‘Era-Midway I.T.O.U’ was just an anagram for ‘You are a dimwit’, but with the right performance you can get through with almost anything.
Suspending her disbelief, the receptionist pressed the same button three times and waited a short while before the other end of the line was answered.
“I’m sorry to disturb you…“ she started, “... there is a mister Fischer who says he was an appointment with you sir.”
She paused for a second and Fischer thought he caught a slightly surprised look on her face. When the receptionist ended the transmission he looked at her with the best expression of patience he could muster in this intense situation. The receptionist rose gracefully from her chair and made a gesture in the direction of the exit.
“Right this way, mister Fischer.”
What Ernst initially assumed to be a modern sculpture while passing it when entering the building now re-arranged itself slightly, while a platform elevated from the ground. Fischer nodded towards the receptionist and stepped on the platform. Him placing his briefcase on the platform, waiting for it to move upwards could very well have been a metaphor for the weight that dropped from his shoulders, when he bluffed his way into a meeting with one of the most powerful members of the Hamburger Vereinigung für Entwicklung und Bildung.
The room Fischer found himself arriving in was as modern and stylish as the rest of the building. Despite not being taller than the surrounding buildings, the large, curved window front that covered a wall and part of the rooms ceiling revealed a stunning view over the nearby Chistian Linder Park - the mandatory green space of this part of town. Like the supervillain from a movie, Schaller sat in a large leather chair behind a sweeping CEO-style desk.
“Herr Fischer. Wilkommen. Glad you could make it.”
While Fischer walked towards the desk, Schaller stood up from his chair and approached Fischer with one arm outstretched. They shook hands and Schaller gestured towards a chair that looked as modern as it looked uncomfortable. While Ernst Fischer sat down the could feel his weight form his rear end into a box shape, with the cubistic chair he sat in act as some kind of mold.
“I’m sure you remember our conversation from the other day.” Fischer began. “You know - the one about exiled Stuttgart elitist Alexander zu Marbach visiting Hamburg to beg some old business partners for money.”
Schallers smooth face contorted into a grimace of disgust upon hearing the name.
"That filthy Adel is a thing of the past. What I wouldn’t give to see him crawl around on his knees before being rejected and falling to his imminent doom.”
Fischer reclined in his seat. Schaller was a brilliant business man and a great politician. Some might even call him a visionary. He was really passionate when it came to the subject or making Hamburg - his hometown - the city many of its residents believed it’s meant to be. But like many people Schaller began to show his real face when speaking to someone sharing his ideology - the face he had to hide from the media at all cost. Now Ernst knew that Shaller trusted him and he was ready to take it to the next level.
“What if I told you that there are multiple people in his father’s circle of old acquaintances that think about him that way?”
Fischer paused for a second while observing how Friedrich Schaller leaned forward in unbearable curiosity ever so slightly.
“And what if I told you… “ Fischer continued “... that you could belong to the lucky ones to have a front row seat once that happen? You could even be the the one to get a chance of humiliating him -” Ernst now lowered his voice to a mixture between a grumble and a whisper. “- along with all of his filthy clan.”
While Fischer was talking a smile formed on Schallers face, and it grew wider and wider as Fischer continued. Once Fischer was finished, Schaller leaned back in his chair obviously imagining the scene Fischer described in his mind, letting him transcend into an almost orgasmic state. Schaller quickly composed himself and leaned over his impressive desk to shake Fischers hand.
A warm summer storm broke through the thick clouds that have been hanging over the outskirts of Blankenese, where the wealthy Hamburg citizens go when they feel like it’s time get away from the hussle and bussle of the inner city. Just as Fischer was about to move his observation of the small mansion some place more dry, he spotted three people walking down the street. Fischer could not overhear their quiet discussion, but he was sure that it was him. Zu Marbach and his trusty guard dogs stopped in front of the house, before proceeding to activate the panel at the front porch. The door opened and the shimmer of light escaping from the inside of the house and cast the long shadows of the three men out on the street. As the door closed Fischer slowly got up and whispered
“Transmission. Schaller. They arrived.” He walked over to the gate in front of the house. “Understood”
Schallers voice was the only thing Fischer could hear over the barrage of raindrops pouring from the sky. Shortly after a white private shuttle with dark windows split through the dark clouds and descended onto the nearby landing pad. Schaller exited the vessel alongside a whole entourage of 7 or 8 people. All of them dressed expensively and all of them giddy with excitement. Fischer was sure, that not all of them came for ideological self justice and that some of them might just be part of the bored 1% searching for extraordinary thrills. Just as the other day, Schaller approached Fischer with his arm outstretched.
“The rat is in the cage”
He exclaimed while shaking Schallers hand. The elite mob behind him smirked in unison as Fischer turned around to lead the way. He pushed open the gate, as well as massive front door and they stepped into the lavish entrance hall. Determined they stepped over the two motionless bodies lying on the marble floor and proceeded to the lounge.
And in the middle of the room he was. Sitting in a velvet armchair, panting heavily and clawing into the armrests. His hands and face looked like all blood has left them. On the coffee table next to him was a leather toolkit, revealing multiple tools - some more delicate than others. The party went over to the table, one by one choosing their instrument of choice. Schaller returned from the table with a pair of long, thin pliers. They all proceeded to stand in a half circle around the kid, who was still still panting and crunching his teeth. Licking his lips in anticipation Schaller stepped forward and pried one of the kid’s fingers from the armrest with one end of his pliers and slowly started to apply pressure until a short yelp escaped zu Marbach’s mouth. This was his signal. Schaller proceeded to bend his finger backwards until a sickly pop was heard. He chuckled and the kid let loose an agonizing scream. Schaller proceeded to pull back the finger until another pop was heard. The kid let loose another scream and Schaller started laughing. Tears started streaming down his face and Schaller released his finger. He stepped next to the kid and proceeded to stroke his hair. Without a warning one of the other party members stepped forward and brought down a 5kg hammer onto the kid’s chest. An audible crunching sound mixed with the noise of all air violently escaping von Marbach’s lungs. His head slumped down to his chest, but Schaller grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back up.
The routine continued with the goons taking turns, to smash the kid’s kneecaps, repeatedly smashing down on his foot bones, slowly tearing the fingernails from his hands one by one and so on.
Finally Schallers gaze fell upon Fischer, standing two steps back from the angry mob. He held out his hand with the pliers towards him and exclaimed
“There’s still a finger left, mister Fischer.”
Ernst Fischer sighed internally, but he moved without hesitation. He hated torture, even though he could stomach a lot of it and was what some people would consider a master at it. Fischer levered up the kid’s fingernail and swiftly rotating the pliers around to clamp down on the fragile limb, positioning one part of the pliers on the fingertip and the other in the nail bed. Even though the kid was clearly close to passing out, a raspy wheeze escaped his throat. Fischer performed two quick hand motions that triggered the noise of two consecutive pops, mixing with the cracking sound of a small bone. A pleased expression formed on Schallers face.
“This kid and his dirty family deserve nothing better.” He leaned down to whisper directly into the kid’s ear. “The Bundschuh will shortly be on its way so that they can join your fate. They will suffer and die by my hands. Just like the waste of breathing air that was Neuhaus. That sad excuse for a Stuttgart foreign minister.”
Fischer exclaimed. The members of the party started convulsing. Schallers eyes were wide open, displaying a mixture of surprise and betrayal before hitting the ground. “You got that?” A man entered the room through the back door and walked towards Fischer.
“Every single sentence. They couldn’t get out of this even if the president of the Bundesgerichthof was his lawyer.” Fischer turned towards the kid “You can get out of there now. You did a fantastic job, Kevin.”
The kid’s head disappeared into a hole in the backrest of the armchair and he climbed out of the back, leaving behind a headless, disfigured body.
“This sh*t was intense. It also actually hurt real bad. Even worse that creep kept touching my hair. F*cking pedo.” "Well thank you for your hard work.” Schaller handed the kid a bag. “Thanks, Fischer. I’m outa here”
Once the kid left the room, Fischer turned towards the other man.
“Did you contact the authorities?” The man nodded. “In that case I’ll be leaving these fine gentlemen in your hands. I’m not exactly on good terms with them.” “Alright then. You know where to find me, Fischer.”
Waving his hand Fischer walked out of the mansion. He almost couldn’t believe that everything went as smoothly as it did. He really needed to thank Karsten the butcher for organizing and preparing that corpse. He probably propped the guy up to a chair before rigor mortis set in or something like that. The less he knew about it the better. Fischer got into the shuttle he landed one street over and prepared to take off. He entered the coordinates he was told to report back to after the deed was done and increased the upwards thrust of his shuttle. Pulling free from the gravity of Planet Hamburg Fischer felt like a weight dropped from his shoulders. He leaned back in his chair and switched on the auto pilot.
The warning of him reaching his destination awoke Fischer from his light nap. Surrounded by a thick nebulae, he switched on the news ‘... high ranking Hamburg politicians and other persons of public interest arrested for attempted aggravated battery, attempted hostage taking and attempted murder on the foundation of video evidence. Asked about the accusations, defending lawyers... ‘ It has been confirmed that as her profession suggests Staatsanwältin Barbara Hold would be taking on the prosecution. From past cases Fischer was sure that she would do anything to get them assigned to an asylum.
As the shuttle continued to venture through the nebulae the outline of a massive lump of steel came into vision. The ship lay silently, with just a few windows illuminated. Fischer started a transmission to inform docking personnel, as well as Kapitän Wolf of his arrival.
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