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Priorities: A Tale from the Frankfurt Commune

Note: The image associated is from Ironage.media, specifically their writing prompt 'The Annexation'

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In 1870, Communards in the streets preached about the revolution while Frankfurt’s citizens were starving. Even the zoos had been emptied while the animals still had meat on their bones. Meanwhile, militias were on the prowl for counter-revolutionaries, executing every suspect, many of whom were Communards themselves.

People were waging who'd come first the siege our city: The Prussians or the French. But according to rumors, both were fighting monsters in the countryside. I dismissed it as disillusion brought on by hunger.

As I felt my innards being swallowed up by a pit in my stomach, everything resembled a potential meal. Human bodies included. So, when it was announced the French had arrived, All I could think was, thank God.

The French didn’t discriminate when shelling the city. Within days they were in the streets, molesting and killing as they butchered their way through the barricades while I hid in a basement as rooftops came down around me.

Then, the fighting happened in front of my door. Bodies, I thought. Soldiers carrying rations lay dead in front of my door. Shots were still flying as I raced to the nearest corpse to loot his knapsack. But as I sat on my knees, unwrapping my precious spoils while eating them at the same time, I was kicked in the stomach.

Rolling on my back, I found myself at the wrong end of a bayonet. I stared into the face of a French fusilier whose scalp was covered by some monstrous skull while down his back and shoulder hung a flesh-colored cloak of scales taken from some alien beast.

But as I looked at his black-toothed grin, all I could say was: “Bitte, let me eat!”



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