Thirteenth Story - Ragheads-Killer

How far can a law enforcement Officer go with Islamist hate preachers who incite their followers to stab infidels unhindered by German security authorities for years before taking action himself? Can he go as far as Dirty Harry? In any case, he should have a few bros.

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 and around a small city in Germany.

Reading sample

First Part - Phil

1 – Sunday afternoon

Fucking hell!

Don't shout like that! ... What's up?

I stepped into a mud hole!

You'll survive... Come on now!

Besides I have to take a piss!

You can do that when we've caught the poacher!

Hmmm...

I'm sneaking through the mud with my right foot wet and trying to keep my left foot dry. Sometimes I point my gun at a tree and sometimes at the undergrowth and feel pretty silly, but Yvonne is no better. Normally she's always so confident, but I've never seen her sneak up on a target person who we can't even see. In our training they told us about self-protection first, but how are you going to protect yourself if you can't see anyone? Yvonne points her gun between the trees.

I think the shot came from over there somewhere!

Great, somewhere...!

If you know better...

Hmmm...

Of course I don't know exactly from which direction the shot came. You're standing in the forest and there's a bang from somewhere. You really can't tell between the trees, so I just trudge after Yvonne and try to get around the biggest mud holes on the forest path.

The bank must be in this direction, right? The angler said...

Fuck what the angler said, the shooter is long gone!

You wouldn't know that, the...

Drop your weapons and turn around slowly, otherwise you're dead!

Shit! I slump my shoulders just like Yvonne, but I don't drop my gun straight away. I turn around slowly and hear a splash as she drops her gun in the mud.

You too!

Shit, Phil, don't be a hero now, I've got kids!

Listen to your colleague, Phil, otherwise you'll be a dead hero! And so will she!

Okay...

I throw my gun into the mud next to Yvonne's and stare at the guy ten yards in front of us. Now he's coming from behind a particularly thick tree and I stare down the barrel of the biggest rifle I've ever seen, even though I don't know much about rifles. The barrel looks funny, not just round, but there are plates on the sides. No idea what they're for, and no idea why I'm not shitting myself like Yvonne, but somehow... If the guy wanted to shoot us, he would have done it already. From behind! He's definitely not a poacher, even if he's wearing a bomber and camouflage in green and brown. But I don't think the poachers are traipsing through the forest in white-laced twenty-eyelet Rangers, like I do when my shift is over and I hang my uniform in the locker. Poachers don't need a black mask with a white skull and crossbones either, they don't wanna scare the deers to death, they wanna shoot them. And I think if you put a bullet in a Bambi with a rifle like that, there's nothing left over that you'd wanna eat as a Sunday roast. Okay, I don't really know anything about rifles, I just watched a few cool video clips the other day about what kind of weapons they have in the troops, and they also have the rifle with the metal plates on the front of the barrel. It's a sniper rifle, I remember. But they don't use it to shoot the enemy, the fat bullets even go through an armored troop carrier. Then it breaks down and when the enemies come out, they can be killed by other snipers. But somehow I'm not scared of this guy, even if I should be. He's as tall as I'd like to be and his shoulders are as broad as mine should be. His upper arms and thighs are so thick that he could just flatten me without a rifle. And I'm pretty sure he's grinning from under his skull mask. Anyway, he's got a hard-on in his tight camouflage, you can't miss it. His cock seems to be just as huge as his rifle, I can tell even at ten yards.

You two sweeties stand in front of that tree and tie each other up with your handcuffs!

I just keep staring down the barrel and check that my cock is just as hard as his when Yvonne pushes me forward.

Come on!

Hmmm...

We both pull our handcuffs out of the holsters as we stand against the tree. I can't see Yvonne behind it any more, I can only hear the rattling as she puts her handcuffs around her left wrist and holds out her arm so that I can put the other side around my right. Now I have to put my handcuff around my left wrist with my bound right hand and that's not so easy, but somehow it works. Behind the trunk, Yvonne can't see my grin. I don't know why I have to grin. We're in a shitty situation and far from safe. Maybe the guy will put a bullet in my skull from behind. I think a bullet from that rifle would be enough for both of us if it penetrates an armored vehicle. It would just go through my skull and through the tree trunk and turn Yvonne's head behind it into mud just like mine, even if the tree is almost a yard thick. I stare at the tree and exhale deeply as my left hand connects with her right. If we were lovers, this could be quite romantic. If the guy wouldn't press the barrel against the back of my head so that I bump my forehead against the bark and my hat falls off. It's about to get cold on my bald head, but that's not my problem now. My grin is gone, now I'm scared. Shit, is he still going to...? But I've never been the type to blubber when I get hit in the face, and I won't in the last few seconds of my life. The pressure on the back of my head eases when he takes the rifle away. But now he's fiddling with my belt. Is he going to pull my pants down to rape me here in the woods before he blows my head off? With Yvonne next to me, even if she couldn't see... My pants stay up, he just pulled the radio out of my belt holster.

Call your police station and tell them to pick you up here. That's it, is that clear?

Yeah, of course!

If you say something about me...

No, I won't do it!

Yvonne is now shaking with fear that the handcuffs are rattling. But she refrains from saying Don't be a hero, Phil! once more. The guy is standing right behind me and I check that his cock is pressing against my ass as he holds the radio in front of my face and presses the send button.

This...

My voice is shaking, even without the rifle to my head. So I try to pull myself together.

This is police Officer Rammelmann for headquarters!

This is headquarters, report, Officer Rammelmann!

We...

I take a deep breath.

We are in the forest and need... We need help!

What happened?

The guy hits me on the back of my head so hard that my forehead smacks against the bark again.

I... can't say! We just need help!

Make a report!

I bite my tongue as his leather glove strokes my bare skull. Very gently...

Are you being threatened?

I take one more deep breath, they must be able to hear that at the headquarters. I can already see our chief making a fool of us, saying that we're idiots, a disgrace to the police and that we let a poacher disarm and tie us up. I'll say it was a poacher, that's what the angler meant when he complained to the emergency call that there were some loud bangs in the forest that the fish were vanishing. I don't know if the fish in the lake vanish when there's a bang in the forest. In any case, our colleagues will laugh at us for being idiots. And my father won't even celebrate his only son if he gets a scolding from above in his second year. I've never done anything wrong, my personnel file was spotless until I retired! – You've never looked down the barrel of a sniper rifle either! The leather glove now runs from my bald head over the back of my head down to my neck. The fingers wrap around my neck and slowly squeeze tighter and tighter as I hear Yvonne crying quietly behind the tree.