Dogs of War
You all know me as Alex. Alex the German shepherd/ wolf hybrid who has a lack of emotion and is an asshole. Well, you probably also know that I am a strategist. Well, do you have any idea where I was born? In fact, do you know that I am not the child of two loving mates?
Yeah, you probably didn't know that. And my apathetic attitude? Well, that will be explained soon. Anyways, my name is Alex… well… that's what a police officer called me… My true name is Hundemörder. What does that mean? Well… you don't need to know.
Anyways, a human named me Hundemörder because he thought it made me even more badass. Well, when it was revealed that I wasn't blind, but my eyes were a light grey… they were so light they looked silver, I was called Silber Augen. Silber Augen means Silver Eyes.
Well, when I was born, and yes I was born from the natural birthing process which is an effect brought on when a male wolf stuck his cock up my mother's vagina and tied them together… for an hour and a half. They fucked three times! Three fucking times!
Anyways, I was born through that process… and I was born to kill… and as irony would have it, I was born blind. I was blind for three weeks. Thank God my master didn't take his gun and send my soul to wherever it goes.
So I was born blind and after three weeks, my irises never changed color, remaining the original silver. You are probably saying, "Oh… you were born blind. Okay then, but what does that have to do with you being a ruthless prick?"
Well here it is you asshole. I wasn't born for a family pet. You see, in 1924, dog fighting has become a thing in Europe. They wanted the best dogs so they could win the big bucks. And in the part of Berlin I was born, dog fighting was extremely popular. Popular to the point where I was created to participate in it.
Why would they make a wolf/dog hybrid for a dog fight? Well, hybrids can become insane. Sometimes, they are born insane. When I was born, I sniffed out my brothers and sisters and killed them, not because I wanted them dead, but because I had no rationality at that point. They needed to die and they needed to die now was my only thought.
Well, after a month, dog fighting became my new parent. And that is where my story begins.
I watched the dog in front of me, an adult German shepherd, war scars across his face boasting that he had been in multiple fights and won. This dog wanted me dead, but I would kill the fucker first.
As the dog lunged at me, what he didn't take into account was my size. He was eighty pounds of pure muscle. I on the other hand, my weight was around ten pounds. And no, that wasn't muscle. It was puppy fat. I am a month and a half old and this is my first dog fight.
He came closer and closer, so I managed to get my pup legs into action and he ran right over me. Well, at the time, I wasn't a good runner, but jumping I could do. His throat was low to the ground… and I took my chance.
I leaped onto his throat, ripping and tearing into it. He was probably frightened by the fact that a ten pound fat pup is about to end his life… with teeth that couldn't do squat in the real world.
He begins struggling, trying to get me off. I just held on, my teeth digging deeper into his flesh. I wasn't going to rip his throat out. I wanted him to kill himself.
He keeps spinning, me holding onto his throat. His wanton acts of trying to get me off were killing him. My teeth weren't met for ripping, crunching, slashing, or chewing. But I was using them to hold on. Every time he struggled, my jaws closed tighter around his windpipe.
After three hours of this constant dance for life, he soon fell to the ground, not being able to breathe, and I held on for three more minutes before the life in him faded away.
Not very cute is it? Well, if you wanted a cute pup story, it was not going to be found here. I was born for murder and you can't control a murderer for long… at least, I think you can't. You can't control me anyways.
And that will always make me laugh.
I glare at my human, mostly because he shoved me into the fenced off killing arena. People are watching, laughing, joking, and pointing at me like I'm some piece of entertainment. I growl at them. I am five months old now and I hate humanity… I hate life. All life deserved to die. I killed butterflies that landed in front of me. I killed the air that entered my lungs… in a way of speaking. As I breathed in, I would chomp down, pretending the air was alive.
As they opened the fence and tossed the poor dog in, I had my target. Once I had a target, nothing would stop me from killing them. As the dog charged, I jumped onto the dog's back and lunged for the throat. My target didn't even know what was happening as I ripped his throat out. The people screamed and ran, not expecting the kill to be so brutal.
If you hadn't been following along, I chose my target before the dog had been thrown inside its tomb. But it didn't die. I had jumped off the dog and killed my target; my master.
I couldn't believe it! I am free! I killed my master and became free! Deciding not to waste my freedom by being captured again, I ran into the alleys, escaping from the murder-loving humans.
You are either happy for me, or maybe you're disgusted. I don't care which one you are. I rebelled against humanity… guess you can say I'm "Der Widerstand"; The Resistance. I am a rebel… for now anyways. To be a true rebel, one must learn the ways to wage war. And so I did.
As I walked across the cobble streets of Berlin, my stomach growling since I have only been eating scraps… and birds, but mostly scraps. I hear a vehicle approaching, and my hatred for humanity burns within me.
I turn to face the threat… and I see the polizei stop next to me. I didn't know what to do so I growled as they got out.
When Germany lost World War I, their military was disbanded. Well, the military veterans, still young, joined the police force; the polizei. Well… not all, but some did.
One of the officers got out and walked towards me. "Hey, I know this dog! I saw him in the dog fights! You poor bastard."
The other officer walks next to him and asks, "He's a fighting dog? Should we put him down?"
The first officer laughs at the stupidity of his comrade's question. "Put him down? Why would we do that? He's a stray now. Let's take him with us! He would make a good police dog!"
The second officer stares at me like I was Lucifer. "I… I don't know. He looks dangerous. Maybe we should put the poor bastard down."
The first officer laughs again and walks towards me. I growl at him and glare. He was my enemy. I wanted to destroy him.
He kneels in front of me and says, "It's alright boy, it's alright. Look, I got a nice piece of meat."
He pulls out a piece of bacon and my eyes dart directly towards it. I wanted to destroy the human… but that German bacon was calling me, beckoning me to devour it.
I slowly walk towards him and I slowly bring my snout towards the bacon, smelling it, scenting if the human was being cruel and decided to put chloroform or poison inside of it.
Scenting that it didn't smell any different than a piece of bacon, I slowly grab the tip of it and jump away from him, landing closer to the wall before eating it. He smiles and pulls out another. I walk towards him again, still slowly, but a little faster before scenting it and grabbing it away from him before eating it.
He pulls out a third piece of meat and I frown at him. 'Jesus, how many pieces of meat does this guy have? Oh well, it tastes better than garbage.'
I walk towards him and as I'm about to grab it and run, he pulls it away. "Nah ah, you aren't going to run and eat it this time. You're going to stay and eat it. So sit."
I knew there was a catch. Oh well, my stomach is growling and I wanted food. So, reluctantly, I sit down in front of him and he brings the piece of bacon in front of my snout. I bring my mouth towards it and grab it… and he places his hand on my back, preventing me from escaping.
I wanted to destroy him… but he fed me for no reason. He could have killed me and left, but he didn't. Once the bacon was gone, he looks at the second officer and says, "Open the door."
The second officer opens the passenger door, but the first officer shakes his head. "No you idiot, not the front passenger door, the back one. Open that door."
The second officer chuckles before going to the back and opening the door. The first officer then starts to rub my stomach… and I stare at him, unsure what he was trying to do.
And then it happened. He picks me up, his right arm supporting my rear while his left supported my chest, and he carried me to the car. I didn't know if I was supposed to growl or whine… so I did both.
He laughs hearing my growling and whining, mixed together as one noise. "It's alright stray. We're taking you to a nicer home."
As he put me inside the back of the car, he closes the door. I look to the front, but the two officers climb in and close the doors as well. Now I am officially stuck.
The second officer, the one driving, asks the first officer, "So… what shall his name be?"
The first officer smiles and says, "Well, I was thinking of naming my boy after my great grandfather… but I never did. So I decided to name this dog after him instead."
"Oh? And what is the dog's name going to be?"
"I shall name him Aleksander, though instead of that bloody K, it'll be an X. So his name is Alexander."
And that is how I became officially Alex.