Eleventh Story - Endangerers

If the justice system doesn't take care of the endangerers who rape children, slit open the stomachs of pregnant women so that they can't have children in the first place, or cut off the heads of non-believers, then the skinhead bros Stanni and Erik will have to do it. But who are these endangerers? Probably not just the ones with the long beards who shout Allahu Akbar. It's not so easy to keep track and shoot the right people. And it's even more difficult not to be considered a threat yourself...

The plot and heroes of this story are fictitious. Anyone who recognizes themselves in one of them is welcome to feel honoured. The story contains detailed descriptions of gay sex and brutal violence. If you don't wanna read that, just don't do it!

This story was originally published in German language in 2024. It takes place in several cities in Germany.

Reading sample

First Part - Stanni

1 – Wednesday afternoon

Rose Lane number ten.

Rose Lane was just there, but do you see any house numbers here?

Uh... Yeah, there! Very small... Here's number four.

Okay, I'll drive past it for now.

Watch out, the bushes are quite narrow!

Hmmm...

With a huge Ranger on a narrow path, it scratches every now and then and Erik closes his eyes briefly each time. At the first scratch, he was still cursing that I really thought he was going to punch someone who happened to be passing by. But now there are a few more scratches, so he should be more chilled by now.

There's number ten!

That bower over there? ... What color is that supposed to be, piggy pink or something? It looks really bad, it gives you cancer if you watch too long! And that's where he lives?

Yeah, but we're about to save him from cancer!

If he's at home...

We'll see! I'll turn around up ahead, we'll have to go that way anyway.

Have fun turning with the big car!

Don't bother, you don't have to turn it around! Besides, you wanna have a Ranger when you're finally allowed to drive!

Sure, it's a damn cool car! Sometimes just a bit impractical...

When it comes to his beloved car, my bro can get pretty unchilled very quickly, but now he even grins briefly at me.

Screw impractical, the main thing it's cool!

I told you...

With a few turns back and forth, we manage to turn around and are now standing in front of number sixteen, thirty meters from the squeaky-pink bower. All the other huts here in the colony are beige or brown or whatever, but this one certainly glows in the dark like a piglet among wild sows. I check through the rear window that there's no one there, just like in front of us.

Show me the photo of that madman again!

Erik is clutching the steering wheel the way he usually holds me from behind when we're crashing and has his chin on it. He just stares through the windshield at the bower, but there's still nothing to see. So he lets go of the steering wheel, pulls his mobile out of his bombers, calls up the photo and holds it out to me. I squeeze my knees together so that the rifle between my legs doesn't tip to the side, but that I have both hands free and can zoom and scroll on the display.

Günther Adrian Veselius-Borkämper, what kind of crazy name is that? But he really looks just like a... Günni.

A mad name for a mad guy! ... You already looked at him earlier. Is he fascinating you that much?

I'm only fascinated by one guy and that one is sitting next to me!

I get a quick grin from my bro for saying that, but then he stares straight ahead again. I don't know what's wrong, usually he's always the chilled one when we're on tour. But today Erik is somehow really tense. Maybe it's the weather... I stare at the grumpy face on his mobile for the tenth time.

He looks really crazy! And God told him to stab pregnant women?

Yeah, because otherwise they would hatch little devils, he said. He's already killed three!

Then why didn't they put him in jail long ago?

Erik looks over at me again, but he's not grinning now.

Andy told us all that! Because they still have room in psychiatry, but not enough staff to look after the crazy people. And they can't put him in jail because he's crazy. So he's not guilty, but because they can't put him in jail, they just let him walk around free. He only has to report to the cops once a week and say that he didn't hear God's voice again and that everything is fine. You really have to be more careful when we're planning our tours, bro!

You're right... And you mean he's sitting there in his pink bower?

That's his address, he told to the cops. And if we're lucky, he'll be where he's supposed to be.

Okay! ... How are we going to do it? Walking down the path with a rifle, if it's not dark yet, isn't that cool... Or with our guns? Just kick in the door and then...

Hm... He's married and when his wife is there...

Then we'll kill her too...?

Now Erik is grinning like hell as he stares over at me.

Say, bro, is it you who's crazy now? We only kill the guys on Andy's list and no one else!

Okay, I should probably just shut up for a while. I really don't know why my bro is so unchilled. It was really cool on our tour last week and it will be the same on this tour, so what's wrong? And of course we're not going to kill anyone, I was just saying that...

I'll go by there and check the situation.

Yeah, do that.

Erik just continues to stare ahead as I lean the rifle against the seat when I get out and try to close the door quietly. There's no one in the front or back, which I find funny. The weather isn't too bad, at least it's not raining. Not at the moment. Okay, it's not a weekend, but I would have thought that everyone who has a bower here would be sitting in there drinking coffee or having their first barbecue of the year or something. But there are only a few cars in the parking lot out front. Well, the fewer people here, the better for us. I go behind the car, look around again as I pull my hoody over my bald head and unclip the frame from the rear license plate. I pull it out and go to the front, do the same there. Erik rolls down the window and takes them off me. I don't really like taking off the license plates every time, but it's just better. When my first daddies once forgot to do it...

I walk as inconspicuously as a skinhead in bombers, camouflage and Rangers can walk through an allotment garden colony, past the pink bower and peer inconspicuously through the bare hedge. But I can't check behind the old curtains to see if there's anyone in there. If there is, he hasn't turned on the light, it's probably still too bright for that. I walk a few more meters to number eight and am just about to turn around when the door opens.

Oh, young man, can you lend me a hand? This stupid thing...

Uh... Yeah, of course!

I think to myself, why did the old bat pull her handcart into her bower so that it stuck with a wheel on the door frame when she tried to pull it out. But I'm a nice guy when I don't blow some asshole's brains out. And the sooner she's out of here, the better.

Together we can do it, but me alone...

I only need to take three steps, her front garden is just as tiny as Günni's. Then she stands in my way as I'm packing her handcart.

Leave it, I'll do it!

It's so nice that there are still some young men who help an old woman like me!

Why don't you have a shopping trolley? With a handcart...

Well, I don't take it for shopping, Jens will do that for me. He's my grandson, but he's with his soccer team in... Oh, he told me where they were going, but I must be getting a bit forgetful. No, I'm using the handcart to get wood for the stove.

Really, you heat with wood in there?

Of course, but now I have to take the cart back to Günther, my neighbor, it's his. So, thank you very much, eh?

Our daddies' villa also has a fireplace and it's really chilling to look into the fire when it's cold outside. But heating with wood...

You're welcome and have a nice day!

I think to myself, if Günni lent granny his handcart, maybe he's not such a bad guy after all. Well, then he could have brought the centenarian's wood to her bower as he's just fifty-eight. I nod briefly to Erik that everything's okay, then I continue on my way, away from number ten. I was just wondering whether I should offer her to bring the handcart to Günni's and blow his head off with my gun when he opens the door. But firstly, it's my bro's turn this time and Erik doesn't like it when I do a job that's his. Secondly, granny's probably not so forgetful yet that she doesn't remember when the cops will ask her if she's seen anything. That a nice young man brought a handcart to her neighbor's house, who then lies in his bower with a hole in his skull. Besides, maybe his wife is there, so too many witnesses.

I go to the end of the path and wait behind a hedge. Hopefully it won't take her more than five minutes to get back to her bower. If she won't be babbling to him about how it's finally spring, but that the weather is still so shitty and that a nice young man in combat boots helped her bring back her handcart. Which is so nice of him to have lent it to her, otherwise she would have had to carry all the wood, as her grandson has just left with his soccer team and she can't remember where to... I pull my mobile out of the bombers and stare at it. After two minutes, Erik's Whatsapp arrives.

Come back the guy is back in his bower and the old bat is gone