History belongs to the victors, a phrase long said by many. However, instead of brushing this idea off as a conspiracy theory, questions asking major ideas such as ‘What if Germany won World War 1?
[A Scratch Mark roughly 6 inches long and covering two lines is seen following the hypophora]
The world has changed, that’s certain. Life is unpredictable, they say, I agree, seeing as that I’m about to fall asleep in an alley. Not even in the United States, for all it’s problems, but the “American Union State”. An ultranationalistic America that has transcended what was thought to have been possibly in terms of nativism and racism. It’s everywhere. Apparently during the Second American Civil War the Southerners rose up. They made peace with the Combined Syndicates of America, but they took far more land, especially in the West. I’m no longer in Los Angeles, I’m in New Montgomery, devoid of any hispanic influence. They changed my beautiful city of angels to a place filled with hate and prejudice. Unbelievable.
I couldn’t sleep last night, not because I was outdoors, but because of everything that’s been happening… coping with it, to be honest. I’ve been transported to a new world, given nothing to survive, and forced to accept the horrid nature of this new society. It’s quite sad, frankly. I tried to write something like “let me go home” in the book, but it didn’t do anything. Well, I guess I’m stuck here, in some Godforsaken world where oppression is tolerated.
I was walking over to the public employment office (apparently they have those here, only for white men, of course) and I asked if they knew of any places I could work, like a McDonalds. The desk agent told me some place down the street, it’s called “Barrys”, was hiring. Needless to say, I applied for a job there, of course, segregation is still in full swing, and I had to pretend to be some racist, bigotted person to get hired, especially when asked about “those damn ███████”.
I see why the world is so surreal now, I glanced at the news for a second, and I saw the commentator reporting on an action taken by a certain country: The German Empire. I’ll be damned if the scenario I wrote came true. Anyhow, they added some new fortifications along their border with France, who turned syndicalist, it looks like tensions are starting to boil over and war may be imminent, God help anyone in those two countries. Anyways, I’m getting used to life now, it blows, but it’s certainly better than starving on the street. Pay’s coming in, I’ve got an apartment, food, and clothes on my back, but something feels… wrong. I can’t put my finger on it right now, but I’ll be damn certain it’ll come to me in time
Karma bit me like a bitch, verbal irony, I suppose. I’ve had FBI agents following me for days now, seeing as I have no means of identification, or the fact that I never tried to show any, they gagged and tied me up, threw me in a van, and drove me to some undisclosed location. They spent the last few hours interrogating me and torturing me, asking for any information relating to my origin. They confiscated my book, but they gave it back after mocking my handwriting, “No one can read this shit! Might as well give it to him as his ‘companion’ before he gets the chair tomorrow!” They walked off, laughing. I guess this is where it ends, with me getting put to death and the book getting incinerated after being read through thoroughly. BUT FOR WHAT? FOR WRITING A GODDAMN SCENARIO IN A DAMN BOOK! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS!
[Multiple lines of poorly written cursing was observed, and due to it not serving any purpose but to take up three pages, Dr. Naus has decided to exclude the derogatory language from this section]
I guess karma likes to bite the FBI too, and to my luck. While they were transporting me to a holding cell, the facility got attacked. My captors engaged in a firefight but ultimately lost after being stunned by a flashbang, the thing’s still causing ringing in my ears. I was rescued by someone, not American though, their accent told me they were French. Anyhow, the Frenchmen loaded me into a truck and took me to the airport. Looks like the Concorde is actually still a thing in this universe, not the same one, but still, a Concorde-like aircraft by Junkers. They better explain the shit they’re pulling.
Well, we arrived in Amsterdam, and it looks like the Dutch are the last truly normal country in the west. They still have a decent government and they don’t seem to spy on their citizens. I’ll consider this to be a break. Anyhow, those Frenchmen introduced themselves. They’re freedom fighters from Alsace-Lorraine or officially, “Elsass-Lothringen”. It was taken by the Germans after the Franco-Prussian War, and they’ve only recently been able to come about (they tell me in about the 1950s). They also told me they saw how one of their operatives had been keeping an eye on me, since she is their head spy in New Montgomery and claims she had not seen someone like me before, especially since she knows how to blend in with the homeless population. I also was introduced to their squad leader, a girl named Adeline, she seems cold and brash, but she also is effective at her job, from what I hear, and she is going to tell me why they facilitated my escape.
If there’s a definition of anticlimactic, it’s this. After arriving at the main base, which is hidden a bit far away from Strasbourg, Adeline told me that the only use I would have would be supplying them with knowledge that I gathered from my “other world”. She apparently read through this thing when I was asleep. So, they rescued me, only to use me as a tool to pick up on what the Germans are doing. If this isn’t both boring and degrading, I don’t know what is.
Life here is full of ups and downs, for me, mostly ups after the downs. There was a raid on the base last night by an fascist French group known as “Les Purs”. They work for the government of France, in association with the Germans, and their main goal is to destroy the resistance. Anyhow, a fight broke out, and while I was trying to hide in the shadows, I saw Adeline, the same woman who spoke down at me, wrestling with a man on top of her, his knife was about to stab into her neck, but I decided to be the better person. I smacked him with an empty water canteen. Bastard fell flat on the ground.
Adeline’s been much less cold to me now that I saved her life, she took me on some scouting missions a few days back, and I find that this group is also starting to get a different idea on how to use me. They want intel, sure, but they seem to see something in me, some sort of deep loyalty or passion for freedom within me. Hell if I know.
I’ve been working with these fellows for a few months now, they’re good folks now that I’ve warmed up to them. They’ve been treating me more like one of their own then a new recruit, and they’ve finally let me in on personal information about themselves, with the exception of Adeline. The oldest of us is Luc, he’s 42 years old, with his father before him having grown up during the chaos that was when the Syndicalists took power. He’s a commie bastard, but hey, at least he seems to value freedom. Second oldest is Jules, he’s only 32, but the man can fight. He was in the army for a while before he deserted, following him witnessing his squadmates massacring civilians in Toulouse. The middle one is Adeline, for whom no introduction is needed. The second youngest is myself, at 20. Our youngest is the newest recruit, Jacques, who is only 18. His parents died at the hands of the Germans, and it seems as if he has revenge flowing through his veins.
I’m to carry out my first attack tomorrow, and I’m having mixed feelings. We know intel is being stored in a drive in the checkpoint, but we’re not sure of what it may be. All I’ll need to do is detonate the bomb and hope I can grab the drive before I get shot.
Went well, thank God. The guard got distracted by the explosion, even with the orders to stay stationed at his post. The drive has given us information on where some other partisan leaders may be. It’s in Africa, in the main German colony in the region, Mittelafrika. I’m not sure what to think about going there. I’ve heard some stories, but I’ve dismissed them so far as exaggerations and hyperbolic statements. The Germans are evil, but they’re not the Nazis. How bad can they really be? I mean, the…
[The following message was written in blood over the rest of the paragraph’s text, rendering it unreadable] OH, HOW FOOLISH I WAS.
We’re going to be heading out tomorrow, taking a train across France, then a boat to Morocco, and finally, a jeep to the Congo. Should be a straight-forward trip, we don’t think that we’ll really have that much trouble unless we encounter a border patrol. We’re not sure what we’ll be encountering, exactly.
[A small part of the page is taped back into the book and the handwriting here changes significantly, as it is much more neat and had no need for deciphering]
Cody, don’t worry, we’re coming for you and we know you’ll survive. -Adeline
I don’t know what happened to him, over the last month, he’s been going mad. He laughs hysterically at night and screams at random. I don’t know what to do. Dieu vous aide.
I think I have a plan, I know I can convince him to do some things, as if he were back in his own world, as he says. I believe I know how to get him back, but I’ve told him to to do it before, he laughs and them claims I’m crazy. Perhaps I could try something. Closing out the sentence alone may do it, and that may be his only way back.
[An Audio File was recorded in this instance, presumably by “Adeline”, and shows how she convinces him to write a question mark, ending his presence in the SCP-XXXX-A instance]
What if I could return to my own world? (The question mark will have a headnote noting the different handwriting again)
Per 
