Here you will read the work of my son, Dave.
He has written other works, but his main interest is art.
Below is a sample of his artwork, please do not copy it. This is copyrighted work.

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Mistress Demonica's Horror Graphics

The Imperfect Soldier
By
David Munsell

Kaiser Kliege, they called him. In life, he had been Kurtis Kliege. Before Sauroh came, he had always thought his family name sounded mean, and it bothered him.
But now he loved it. As the Nazis brought someone down that long hallway and down those perilous stairs that led to him, they would say, " We're taking you to see Kaiser Kliege." And then they would not stop screaming until they reached the big iron door. Then they would whimper and pray. Sometimes he would smell the sour tynge of urine through the metal bars as his victim's bladder gave up.
They screamed because they knew what his name meant for them. It meant pain. Not the kind of pain associated with severed limbs or bullet wounds, but the kind that lasted for hours. Until they gave in and told him their secrets.
The Nazis counted on him to get the secrets. And he did not fail them. Ever. He was a Nazi, too, he supposed. It was what he was good at. Causing pain, using it as a tool to loosen tongues and break wills. Then opening the door for hate. Oh, some of his brethren hid behind their righteous masks, but it was the same ugly thing that drove them all. Hate. And their hate fed him.

*****

As Daniel Glenn sat in his dank cell, he reflected on his life and tried not to think about what was going to happen to him. He was far from the perfect soldier. His marksmanship left something to be desired and when it came to hand-to-hand combat he was practically ignorant. In truth, the only part of war he was good at was flying. He loved to fly. He did not like to kill.
Had life been different, he would be flying over his great country, exploring the skies over America. There were so many paths to explore up there. Some people looked into the sky and saw nothing but the endless blue. To him, though, a place with no roads offered an endless number of pathways.
Unfortunately, his family had never had much money, and the only place he could fly was in the United States Air Force. A place where he had to kill.
His musings were then interrupted by the specter of Death. It came in the form of a young man who had suffered a bullet wound to the chest. It had taken him off center to the right, Daniel noticed. That was an amazing thing. When he lifted a rifle to his shoulder and peered down that barrel it always seemed to him as though he had cataracts. But when he was out there in the great blue sky, he had an eagle's eye. He could not see to kill, but he could see to fly.
The wound, having taken the young soldier slightly to the right of the heart, must have passed narrowly by any important organs. However, the bloodloss and stress on the heart were too much for him. He had staggered to the bars of his cell, adjacent to Daniel's own. There he collapsed, body pressed face first into the bars.
With his last breath, he seemed to be trying to say something to Daniel. Daniel leaned forward, a look of sympathy on his face. "Don...don't let them take you. Don...go..." The soldier inhaled swift and painfully, his eyes wide with a sudden fear.
"What, man? What are you trying to say?" Daniel asked gently of the dying man.
"Kaiser...Kaiser...don't let 'em take you to..." he exhaled slowly as he slid down to the floor, as if the air within him had been trapped, and was luxuriating in the release of Death. As his limp body slid to the floor, he managed to utter one final word. His lips pursed as his eyes fixed on some point in the distance, one not visible to the living. "Kleige..." His body came to rest against the bars in a twisted heap.
Suddenly, Daniel found his own body sagging to the ground. In two words, this young soldier had destroyed any hope Daniel had of escaping his captors and returning home. They were words that were known well in the ranks of those who risked capture in this evil war. Words that stung the very soul, that took proud, strong military men and turned them into crying, babbling children. Kaiser Kliege.
*****

It was not a strange sound that awoke Kaiser Kliege from his slumber, but rather the lack of sound. It was close to the time that they would bring someone down to him. Someone to interrogate. To devour.
Their coming was usually announced by the scraping of boots miserably across the stone floor as the victim struggled in vain to escape the pain that awaited them. The screams of sheer untrammeled terror. He heard none of that now, and that silence did not bode well.
He found himself salivating at the thought of another victim. He loved the pain, but he also fed off it. He needed it. He would start at the skin and work his way inside his victim. Hurting the flesh first. Then the soul. Finally, when they gave in and gave him whatever little tidbit of information it was that his "superiors" wanted, he would kill them. Slowly.
He realized that he was really drooling, and wiped his mouth with his shirtsleeve. He heard someone outside of the torture room that he called home. Someone was opening the door. Then, as it swung wide he saw the jackbooted feet step across the threshold. As he looked up, he saw a middle-aged man, balding plate shining in the light from the overhead lamp. Jack-Boots gave a sly grin and turned around to slap the fresh-meat across the face. Without hesitation, Kaiser Kliege snatched an old cutlass from the wall and lashed Jack-Boots across the back. The blade was dull, but not so much that it did not draw blood. Jack-Boots howled in pain and fell to a knee. Kaiser Kliege grabbed at a sliver of flesh that hung loosely from Jack-Boots' back and ripped it free, causing another shrill cry. Kaiser Kliege licked the blood off the strip of flesh, closing his eyes and reveling in the taste. He had tasted the flesh. It was his key to the soul.
He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, into the soul of the Nazi Soldier. Inside his mind, he saw the soldier standing alone in a dark cave. There were bars across the exit. He knew instantly that this cave was hate. He also knew the purpose of the bars. They served not to keep him in, but to make sure that whatever was out there stayed out there. He knew what that was as well. Fear. It was a classic weakness of humans. They feared, and hid from their fear with hate. Without mercy, he reached out and grasped Jack-boots' wrist, dragging him towards the bars. As he did so, ten Nazi soldiers materialized out of nowhere, leveling their rifles at him. He knew this was a mental defense against his assault. Whatever Jack-boots did, he could not allow Kliege to drag him out to face his fear.
Fire engulfed the soldiers and they shrieked in pain as they disappeared. He absorbed the pain; smiling at the pleasure it brought him. The soldiers melted back to the nothing they came from. The bars blocking the path were bent by an unseen hand into strange curly cues hanging from the roof of the cave. Kliege threw Jack-boots across the threshold and stepped across himself.
What should have happened then was Jack-boots facing his ultimate fear and being devoured by it. However, something unusual happened in its place. Jack-boots did face his ultimate fear. He stood alone in a street with a sign that read "Jew" in bold red letters tied around his neck. Nazi soldiers stood in a circle around him, shouting racial slurs and jabbing at him with their bayonets. He shrieked at them in anger, saying, "I am not a Jew! I am not a Jew!" But they kept coming at him.
One of them shouted, "Kill the Jew! Kill him in the name of the pure race!!" They lunged simultaneously at him, stabbing him with their bayonets. He gasped, falling to the ground. Then darkness fell, and Kliege could no longer see what happened. This was usually what happened when the victim's mind gave way, leaving them with whatever terror they faced.
Suddenly, the darkness gave way to another scene. The balding man being led by Jack-boots down the corridor to him. It was then that Kaiser Kliege realized why he had not heard their approach. This cretin had had the nerve to walk down that corridor back straight, head held high, a look of steely determination on his face. Kliege howled inwardly, and regretted it as the howl, having no way to escape his throat, stayed within him in the form of pain. His soul shook with the reverberations. He had the feeling of falling, and as if through a dark tunnel he saw his hands reach out in the solid world to catch him. He was aware of the pain of his palms being cut by a piece of stone that had come loose from the floor, but did not actually feel it.
He saw another image. Himself, hanging limp from the wall by shackles. His head rolled forward as his body gave up his soul. He saw himself die... He returned from Jack-boots' mind to see his body lying on the floor, spasming mildly. He was on his hands and knees in front of this sack of American meat. On his hands and knees!
He growled in anger as he stood, looking down at Jack-boots. "He is MINE, you Shwinehunde! Mine!" He gave the quivering sack of flesh a sturdy kick. As if possessed, he began to kick at him relentlessly, pounding his head with his sharp, pointed boots. He kept pounding until he heard the snap of bone bending in a way it should not. Jack-boots' head rolled backwards at an odd angle and his body went limp. Kliege looked up with wild eyes, spittle at the corners of his mouth. He grinned at the American, then kicked him soundly in the groin.
As the American fell to his knees wincing, Kliege stepped behind him to pull the big iron door shut. He turned around to stare down at the American. "Your name, you verdamnt coward! What do I call you?" The American inhaled slowly, through his teeth. He stood, removing his hands from their protective position over his groin and placed them at his sides. He stared levelly at Kaiser Kliege, the feared and hated interrogation officer. The monster in the Nazi's basement. He stared levelly at Kaiser Kliege, even managing to tilt his head and look down his nose at him slightly. "Daniel Glenn. My name is Daniel Glenn." He said, almost managing to cover the pain in his voice.
"Well, Mister Daniel-Glenn-My-name-is-Daniel-Glenn, nice to meet you." Anxious to get things started and find out what it was this little man had that all of the other toy soldiers who had come to him had not, he backhanded Daniel Glenn, knocking him against a wall. To his surprise, Daniel Glenn removed a battle-axe from the wall and hurled it at Kaiser Kliege. Kliege ducked and the blade slammed into the wall above him. As he came up, a foot caught him in the mouth. He reacted swiftly, pulling the axe from the wall and slamming the flat of the blade into Daniel's chest. He fell to the ground, the force of the blow still reverberating through his bones.
He ran his tongue across his upper lip, tasting blood. Suddenly, he sank to his knees, his body becoming inexplicably weak. His eyes were shrouded in darkness. Then the darkness cleared. The blood, the flesh, was the gateway to the soul. He had tasted his own blood. Now he would see his own soul. Something bright floated in front of him in the darkness. Something so bright that it burned his eyes to look at it. He could not make himself look away. It was as if he had no eyelids to shield him from the sight. He could not make out a shape. It was just a bright area in front of him. It was drawing him closer. He felt his flesh peel away at the touch of the light. And then the light was all around him. Within him.
In desperation he screamed out at the light. "What are you? Why are you doing this to me!!"
"I am the truth." Came a resounding voice. "And I am going to destroy you." The light engulfed him. Every fiber of his being was absorbed by the truth. It was a force that he could not fight against. No matter what he did, it was to no avail. His shouts, his blows, his rage. All were engulfed by the light, leaving him weak and broken.
The truth drew him back to the beginnings. To a cold winter day in Berlin. Kurtis Kliege mopped his forehead, sweating despite the snow that fell against his face. He raised the sledgehammer over his head for the hundredth time, dropping it towards another wooden fence post. It connected with a dull thud, sending a small shockwave through his arms. He hefted the mallet and dropped it again. Another shockwave. He continued this way for an hour, time, and his life dragging on inexorably slow, hand in hand. The house would burn or collapse. Or perhaps just rot along with him. He tried. He tried so very hard. For himself, for his wife Sarah, for their son, Pete, but in the end he knew nothing would come of it. It was his old enemy looming on the horizon. His best friend. Failure. It had been with him so long he could not remember a time when it was not there.
He would fail again and all of this would be gone. The house, his child, his wife, these stupid fence posts! Another shockwave. He dropped the sledgehammer to the ground and put his hands to a sore back, wincing. He wanted so much to be free of failure. So much. He wanted to be perfect. To be good at something.
"I can give you that, my friend. That and more." At first, he could not tell where that voice had come from. He turned completely around before he saw the man with long white hair sitting on the fence that he had made. But wasn't it incomplete? Like everything in his life. Then how did this man come to be sitting atop the completed fence?
"Have a few questions, do you? Not surprising. Well, my friend, I am not a Thesaurus. I am a God. My name is Sauroh. Take a look at your incomplete life." He made a grand motion around him with his hands.
Kurtis Kliege saw the fence that he had been laboring on completed, and providing a comforting ring of safety around his family's home. He saw his wife wave a pitcher of lemonade at him from the front porch with a smile. She had not smiled in so long. The silent, blissful snowfall was interrupted as the sound of Chopsticks played on a piano drifted across the yard. It was a simple tune, but a wonderful way for his Son to start. He had always wanted to play the piano, but they could never afford one.
Kliege turned back to Sauroh in silent awe. Just a moment ago, he had wished for things to be right. To be rid of failure. To have everything for him and his family. He looked around him and saw his dream realized. This Sauroh, this God, had made it real.
"Take it. Take it all. I give you sanctuary from your fear." What was that? Something Sauroh had just said was very important, but he could not focus on it. "I ask only one thing. I will give you a chance at something far greater. I will let you taste greatness, perfection, and do something for me at the same time. If you like it, you can keep it." Kliege sensed "a but" coming on. He had spent his life bouncing from one power-hungry, manipulative boss to another. Had seen many "buts". "And if I do not?"
"Then you may return here, to your wife, to your Son, to this perfect little farm. You cannot lose." He smiled, emanating pure warmth and caring. "I seek only to help you. I am a God. I am here to guide you. To aid you." Kliege trusted this God. He somehow knew that what he said was true. But something he said...
The Truth was there suddenly, rapping its tendrils of light around him. Dragging him ever onward, into itself. Time raced by quickly, the sentient will of the Truth rifling through his memories, searching for the next important event in the making of Kaiser Kliege. The key to the existence of the Anathema of American spies. He felt the Truth scream triumphantly. There! Kurtis Kliege stood over the spasming body of the American in Nazi colors. The "allied powers" fought hard against them, but the Americans would stoop so low to see the fight end. They were, in essence, as bad as any Nazi. The end justified the means was their secret Battle cry.
He had tasted blood and soul for the first time. It was delicious. Better by far than any narcotic he had ever tasted. Worse. He knew he could not go back now. He knew that this was the perfection Sauroh was talking about. No matter what, he knew he would never fail at this. He smiled as he heard the sound of Sauroh walking up behind him in the dimly lit basement torture house. No one had been there a moment ago. But Sauroh was a God.
"Well, my friend. What do you think? The "position" is open. And it looks like you could fill it well. It's all yours if..."Sauroh let it trail, but Kliege knew what he would say. If you can let go of that perfect little farm, that beautiful wife, and that little boy.
Kliege thought for a moment, he held the two ways of life up to each other, measured them. The hunger that was building up within him was larger than them. Larger than the life that Sauroh had given him. There was no choice. He looked up at Sauroh with a solid conviction. "I can." "Very well then. I give you sanctuary from your fear." He smiled, and for the first and last time he knew Sauroh, he saw that it was an evil, hate-filled smile. Then he was gone.
"There it is!" He heard the Truth shout triumphantly. "You were hiding, Kliege. Hiding behind your hate. From FEAR!" Those words cut into Kliege's soul like a hot knife. Like a bayonets. He screamed and felt the sharp sting of hard concrete cutting his knees.
He came back to the solid world, his arms rapped about his body. He heard a whimper. It was his own.
Sputtering indignantly, Kaiser Kliege climbed to his feet. He realized he could not stop shaking. The madness had set in. Curse this American and his... his... Bravery. The word came to his mind, but he could not imagine himself thinking that. Could that awful creature still be within him? The Truth. He shouted in rebellion against the forces suddenly turned loose inside him. He looked over to see Daniel Glenn crouched against the wall, trying hard to hold back the fear that clutched at his soul. Kaiser Kliege reached for a whip hanging from the wall.
He lashed Daniel Glenn repeatedly until his will to fight was drowned in blood. Then he shackled him to the wall and began to feed off of the loose flesh hanging in strips from him, to absorb the painful memories and suffering that Daniel had been through. Deep in his mind, though, lurked twin creatures of untold horror. One was the Truth. The other was Failure. It had been gone from his life for years. The Truth had once again given it life. He was no longer sure that he could properly carry out his appointed task. Failure held him in its slimy hands. It was going to be a very long night.
Six hours of pain seemed to stretch on into infinity. Daniel Glenn suffered. He endured. He howled in pain. When he saw that it gave Kliege pleasure, he remained silent. Most of the flesh in the less important parts of his body was now gone. He had lost a lot of blood, but he did not give in. He did not break.
Kliege stood in front of the shackled American, shaking uncontrollably. The shaking would not stop. "Tell me!" He screamed in Glenn's bloody, fleshless face. "Tell me what I need to know. Why were you flying-alone, in a pacified area- in the middle of our airspace? Do not tell me it was an attack again, mien friend, you are hardly a one-man army. What were you up to?"
Suddenly Kliege realized something was horribly, terribly wrong. Daniel Glenn was smiling. In all the time they had been down here, he had not seen the American smile. There was something awfully wrong with that smile. It was a knowing smile. An ironic smile. "Why are you smiling, Shwinehunde? Like the pain, now do we? You had better get used to it."
"Now...why would I...need to do that?" His words came slowly, as gasps. There was a strange sound in his throat. "I won't...be staying that long."
Kliege narrowed his eyes into a shaking glare. "There is no escape, you know. You will NOT leave. The only escape is death and you will not die until..." That was it. The strange sound in his throat. The death rattle. "NO!" He shouted in rage, lashing Glenn's chest open with his finger nails. He felt the familiar pull of his powers upon the soul of Daniel Glenn. Something was different, though. His powers withdrew, leaving him with an empty feeling. He realized that he had stripped Daniel Glenn's mind bare and had not found his ultimate fear. There was nothing left, no fall from the great heights, no hail of enemy fire. Nothing. How could this be, unless...he had no fear.
No, there was no way. He was human. Imperfect. No human could be perfect. None. None of these filthy rats could ever hope to achieve such a level. A level where there was no fear in his heart. And definitely not this balding, overweight, chicken-necked little man.
The balding, overweight, chicken-necked little man took in one final, sharp breath, the smile still on his face. "I...beat you. I beat...Kaiser Kliege."
Kliege howled in futility as Daniel Glenn's head rolled forward and his body gave up his soul. Daniel Glenn had fought the good fight by refusing to fight, and by refusing to give up. In death, Daniel Glenn was victorious.
At that moment, Kaiser Kliege gave up. He fell to his knees, his body shaking harder than it ever had. He knew now that the shaking would not go away. Ever. He knew that he would have to live with the revelations that the Truth had shown him forever. He would not get better. He could not even live contented with the fact that he was successful, perfect. Failure had once again caught up with him.
He realized that he had no choice now. There was only one other salvation. He glanced upward, watching the light dance off the finely honed blade of a knife resting on two nails on a wall. There was his salvation.
He managed to stand, his shaking almost stopping for a moment. He took the knife from the wall and raised it in shaking hands over his head.
He had sought to hide from fear behind his hate. Fear. Fear of Failure. His oldest foe.
His best friend.
He raised the knife higher, his shaking stopping completely. He brought the knife down, plunging it into his chest.
"

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