[DEFEAT. is a   coming-of-death novella. every week a new episode pops up, accompanied by full art by Brian Galiano. for fans of science fiction, fantasy, video games, comics, war epics, and feats of triumph]

Bursting into tears, the girl ran into her father’s open arms. She was seven years old and learning about the unfortunate end of life. Death. She was learning what it felt like to watch a loved one succumb, to fall victim to the force by which we are all eventually swept away.

He wasn’t her brother. But he sure felt like it, having been there for the duration of her entire short existence. From the very first day Betty brought her home from the hospital, the seven-year-old had been loved and protected by this surrogate-sibling. And now she had to watch as he withered away into nothing.

Nothing living, anyway.

“Daddy, why is this happening? It isn’t fair! I don’t want him to die!”

Stoically taking a rip from his pipe, the father looked at his only child. He was challenged in a way that was new and unnerving. Which was saying something, given the scope of his life experience.

He had survived war. He had moved to America with nothing and made something of himself. He had mastered the arena of political science, becoming the department head of a prestigious university.

And he had done all of this with self-assurance, an unwavering belief that the path he had chosen was the right one.

But now he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He gently parted his lips, allowing for a light puff of tobacco smoke to billow upwards. The father savored the taste of the smoke and anticipated the rush from the nicotine. This was his ritual when preparing to do some heavy-duty–

“Daddy,” the daughter interrupted, “isn’t there anything we can do?!”

“I’m still doing zee heavy-duty thinking.” He hadn’t completely shaken his accent. Years later, when his daughter realized he had an accent, she’d find it endearing. But right now, she just wanted a solution to what had been described to her as an insolvable problem.

She had heard the word from all of them. Her mother. Her father. The doctor. They all had different ways of explaining what it meant. The maternal optimism that everything would be fine, despite what the word suggested. The paternal idea of confronting the inevitability of the word, becoming stronger in the process. The scientific defining of the word, plagiarized from a textbook. Yet, nothing curbed the inherent terror of the utterance.

Cancer.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Captain Ryan Major took a long, hard drag from his cigarette. The nicotine felt good on his tongue and the smoke the felt good in his lungs. He held his breath as long as he could, sliding his pursed lips into a smile and savoring every second. With his eyes closed and the early-morning sunbeams hitting his face, Major could’ve sworn that he was back in Myrtle Beach.

Yeah, for a moment he was absolutely sure that he was once again waking up on the porch of his mama’s South Carolina home, locked out after a long night of drinking beer and chasing tail.

Losing himself in the moment, the captain kept his eyes closed as he chuckled and exhaled. He brought his quivering left hand to his face, returning the cigarette to his eager lips. He then ran his bloody right hand through his hair, staining the blonde locks in the process. Major wanted to believe that if his eyelids never parted he’d never have to leave this imagined South Carolina. Maybe he could stay there, eating fat slabs of bacon after finally being let into the house by his ever-forgiving mama.

Hell, Major could practically taste the imaginary cup of coffee when he heard real keys jingle. He knew that the construct of his mind’s eye was no substitute for his home, and it was now proving itself to be more lackluster than ever. If he was going to die that day, Major figured that he’d rather face a terrible reality than have his fantasy further compromised.

With a principled resignation, Captain Ryan Major flicked away the butt of his cigarette and opened his eyes.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

October 22^nd, 1955

Mother,
In spite of my usual tendencies, I hope to keep this letter brief. Although I’d love to renew a regular correspondence with you, I understand that some of my decisions have led you to develop a coldness toward me. This troubles me deeply, but you are entitled to your opinions — which you have been more than willing to share and less than willing to have challenged — and I suppose that I must respect that. But I want you to know that should you ever want to open a true line of communication, in which we can both have our ideas entertained, I will be receptive.

And so, pretenses and formalities aside, here it is: I married Lukas. He proposed to me and a week later we became husband and wife. Neither of us could be more in love, and I have never felt better about the future. If you find any solace in all of this, I pray that it is in the fact that your only daughter has finally overcome years of tragedy and turmoil to reclaim her life as a joyous celebration. At the very least, however, you can rest assured that Lukas and I are no longer “living in sin.”

While I do not owe you any sort of explanation, I’d feel remiss if I never presented it before you clearly in writing (instead of trying to talk while simply being shouted over and waved away). For the last time — Lukas Lang is a good man. Yes, he fought in World War II. For Germany.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

[translated from German]
17 Oktober 1944
Hurtgenwald

Father,
Up until this point I have wholly hearted treated the Hitler Adolf’s plans as the gospel and felt secure. Every mission I have been on has been a most successful triumphant. In the last week alone I have killed ten Amerikans myself. They are swift and dutiful, surely wishing to derail our plans for the Ardennes Offensive. But we are well-minded and well-suited; with my 9mm Luger the Amerikans are but targets of practice.

It is the perfect weapon with which their ideologies can be blown to death whispers.

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