A Death's Gate Metal #1 (serial)

If this is your first time here, you may wish to check the Map of the Blag.

Today's recommendation: Your webcomic is bad and you should feel bad.

Remain tuned to this network for more crucial information. The first in a serial begins now.

A Death's Gate Metal #1
--
Dirk Feldstone could not remember the last time he had been happy. No matter how he went or where he looked, he saw enjoyment and happiness. The drugged citizenry wore crazed little half-smiles. His superior officers had a wonderful time telling him how to went and if to look. His standard-issue wife sometimes sighed, which stirred small memories in him, but these were faint echoes when compared to the constant instructions from his superiors, the lack of decent conversation from his fellow soldiers, and the blasted check-ins. Dirk Feldstone was a Union soldier stationed at the border between the United States and the Confederacy, and there was nothing he hated more than radioing in to his superiors every sixty seconds.

"But I love the sixty-second check in," lied Dirk, outskirting his teeth. "Aren't we friends, Dirk?" asked Kommandant Hurple, staring at Dirk with those potentially green eyes, "You can tell me, you know. Feel comfortable. Tell me anything." Dirk couldn't tell him, felt uncomfortable, and said again "But Jer--, er, sorry-- Kommandant, I watch the border. I should only radio in to you if something's wrong, shouldn't I? Anyway, noone ever crosses the border legally anyway, right?"

Kommandant Hurple drew himself up to his full height, coming up almost to Dirk's shoulders, and did his best to look affronted. However, he failed miserably and barely came off as fronted. A great sigh escaped his lips and searched for somewhere to canter about, but found only the muted gray of the Kommandant's office walls. The sigh escaped outside only to find that the outside was also a muted gray, although admittedly the rooms here were larger. Kommandant Hurple had not known the walls when they were a bright, lively gray celebrating the return of the Union soldiers after General Mayhem -- a sorcerous bastard who knew more offensive spells than the typical comedian --had driven them out of the South.

Dirk knew by the looks of the sigh and the feel of the air constricting around his neck that he had
made a serious mistake. The odd pair, officer and soldier, stood framed for a moment until their awkwardness was brutally interrupted by the sound of an officer radioing in, who gave Dirk Feldstone's ID number and designation and assured them that everything was fine and nothing was wrong. Kommandant Hurple took a moment to reflect. Something was wrong, he was sure of it. Dirk Feldstone had just radioed in to him, and yet Dirk Feldstone was also in his office. With a sudden flash of inspiration, his amiable sense of deduction served him well and he knew exactly what was wrong.

The Kommandant slapped Dirk upside the shoulder and said "Get out there! Noone else has radioed in! Something is horribly wrong!" Dirk sighed softly at the thought of more refugee killing, opened the door, and was just missed by the flash of what may have been white light but was later revealed by the security camera to be a cavalcade of flowers which flung themselves through the window and filled the Kommandant's lungs until they burst into gray puddles noone saw until the autopsy.

Dirk felt simultaneously relieved and worried. The Kommandant was dead, but Dirk hadn't killed him. If he was ever going to get good at this rising through the ranks thing, he needed to anticipate these moments and kill the officer. It said so in his soldier's handbook.

He ran outside and looked down off of the battlements. Sudden pressure atop his head brought about the fear of death in him, and he sank to the ground only to notice that what had landed on him was not death, but rather, a grinning man with a head rather like a pumpkin and a hat that wasn't anything like a pumpkin at all. He saw a mere flash of coat-tails and the man was gone, vanished into the Confederacy. Dirk searched for him for close to two seconds before he gave up and hoped that the man was a Chaos Mage. Chaos Magi were going to be rounded up and killed the next morning. He had seen the special order on the Kommandant's desk.
--