Rated T for Teen
<Translated from German>
Arnim Zola, The Red Skull, The Green Lantern, Namor, The Human Torch AND ALL CHARACTERS AND SETTINGS ARE THE PROPERTY OF MARVEL INC. AND OR DC COMICS AND THEIR RESPECTIVE AFFILIATES. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, I THOUGHT OF THE STORY BUT THESE AREN'T MY PEOPLE.
To the sons and daughters of scared Germany:
I am Dr. Arnim Zola. It is October 1st. I sit in a cell in Nuremberg, and I see Germany through my window. It will be the last time I look at her, before they put a bag over my head.
I hope that you have read of me, as I have lived a life worthy of history. I hope, sons and daughters of Germany, that you think kindly of me. I am and have always been a patriot. What you are about to read will be the last thing I will ever write, and so I will write of Dr. Johann Schmidt, and the time I spent with him.
There are guards staring at me as i scribble these last words down. I have with me a pencil and a piece of paper.
These guards, they laugh and they spit on me as I write. The guard behind me, his spit spells of onions. A lucky man, to be eating onions in times like these. Russians and their onions. This room is pale and grey; it is a disgusting place on its own. Add the smell of a Russian and onion. I look forward to the sunrise.
This morning, they hung my old friend Joesph Goebbels.
Tomorrow morning, they will hang me.
There are bars on these windows. Just now, for a moment, I let myself imagine that I was the Fuhrer and that it is 1921. I imagine these men outside to be good Germans, eager to let me go and begin to rebuild our country.
My mind wanders to Socrates and Crito and Crito's desperate pleas to Socrates, when Socrates sat in imprisoned in his cell. "Socrates", Crito said, "the Athenians would let you escape". Socrates, of course, would not leave, since he had done no wrong. And knew if he did escape, he would continue his work elsewhere, and be arrested and tried again. He would continue to be Socrates, and would wind up dead for it. So he chose to let his life end right there and then. I know something of this, now.
The red haired guard has spit on me again. Onions and tobacco. A horrible smell befitting this disgusting room.
This room is not a place for me to write of Herr Schmidt. The Red Skull. A genius and a patriot. This man should be written about by a great German poet sitting on the roof of our finest castle.
I have no castle, and I am no poet. But I am a German, and Schmidt was my friend. We shall make due with that, for today.
I will tell you all I knew of Dr. Schdmit, and what we accomplished together.
Before the war, Dr. Schmidt was a strange man. A genius, yes, but full of fear. I know this must be hard to accept. Understand, when I say this word, "fear" I do not mean cowardice, or uncertainty. He feared something very specific. What he feared was a vision, a dream - but nothing so vague as dreams or visions of ideology. He feared a naked, pale, ghost, in a green cloak with wretched eyes.
I met Johann Schmidt in July or August of 1935, and soon after we met, we had convinced Herr Hitler to began seeking out "mutants". I do not like this term, "mutant" but this is the term these supermen are referred too by most, so I will use it here. Johann and I were introduced to one another by the fat, insolent Göring. As of the day of this writing, Göring has ingested cyanide because the coward would not be hung.
When they hang me, I will smile at them.
The search for Mutants, project ubermensch, was Dr. Schmidts brainchild. I must assume you have read of it.
In any case, the details of this project are inconsequential. I seek to write the story of a patriot and hero. I will speak only of project ubermensch insofar as Schmidt's will drove the project. It was the will of Johann Schdmitt that made Ubermensch the success it clearly was. I have heard the allies have captured most of our documents related to the project. This is a blessing, because our work has earned its place in history, it will survive even as sacred Germany dies. The world will read of all that we accomplished.
Of course, a great portion of the work we undertook together led to the deformed, Red Skull that Schmidt became. But before we had met the traitor Erskine, Dr. Schmidt and I had not considered genetic manipulation worthy of any great effort. We both were consumed by our fear of the occult. We had seen, in our nightmares, a pale ghost, naked, clad in green. I suspect that Johann saw this ghost with his waking eyes as well.
Dr. Schmidt called it "The Specter". Not "a specter", he used the term "the". The Fuhrer too, had dreams of The Specter. All of us who directed the Nazi party were met by this green ghost in our dreams. I believed these dreams to be warnings. Schmidt saw them as threats.
I see now, as I read what I have wrote, that you might think I've lost my mind, to be writing of ghosts. Make no mistake, these are not the ramblings of some deluded mind. This thing, this ghost, it haunted us. It was no android torch, it was not some man with a green ring or a flying prince from the sea. It could not be explained or touched, but it did exist. It was unreal and real all at once. Dreams of this creature bothered Dr. Schmidt intensely. He spent nearly a year in Palestine because of these dreams. He believed this ghost might kill him.
As he spent his year in the desert, I set about the task of systematizing and categorizing our global search for mutants.
Schmidt returned from the desert with a piece of wood. It was a spear he presented to Herr Hitler. He was jubilant, and I must admit, once Herr Hitler had possession of this piece of wood, this spear, I no longer dreamt of a pale green ghost.
I dreamt only of the glory of Germany.
Schmidt shared with me his dream of the Germany to come, and this is where the story of project ubermensch, began. It was while we worked together on project Ubermensch that I saw the true genius and patriotism of Johann Schdmitt, the most inspired man I have ever known.