Checkpoint Chaos || East Germany (Countryhumans)

Small symmetrical flakes of snow fell onto the blanketed white tundra of the small stretch of road just outside the East Berlin cityscape. The wind blew small tufts of snow back and forth across the frozen wilderness as if playing a game of catch. The only structure, a small illuminated Staatssicherheit checkpoint, acted as an immovable obstacle for the wind, effectively ruining the child-like snow toss. The wind, angered by the interruption, enacted a cruel punishment by periodically changing direction and blowing directly onto the flimsy wooden door of the guard station. These short gusts brought with them enough force to open the door momentarily, almost to invite the poor bastard keeping watch into the deceptively warm embrace of the frozen blanket just outside, before it would slam it shut once more with enough force to rattle the lone window within. This cycle had been going on since around 5 pm. Even with the recurrent noise of the wooden door's abuse on the shaky frame, East Germany was unable to doze off. It was far too cold in the glorified shack- that's what he liked to call it, anyway- for any semblance of shut-eye. After all, the lingering fear that if he dozed off, he may not wake up, was enough to keep him awake. Though, he would likely kill for a coffee. His gaze drifted to the clock on the wall. 18:00. It had only been an hour since he clocked in. He ran a hand through his tousled hair and groaned. "For the glory of the Union my ass." He mumbled. Throwing his head back, he glanced out the checkpoint widow. Nothing but the black and yellow crossing barrier stared back at him. It's not like anyone could even drive past in this weather, anyway. They'd be stranded long before they even made it out of the city in this weather. The door slammed again. By now, he was used to the sound. It happened every winter, and yet, now matter how many times he submits a complaint, there's seemingly never enough resources to go around to fix it. Funny how those things work out sometimes. He tightened his jacket around his and shivered. Figuring it best to move around and circulate his blood flow to conserve body heat, he stood up. The chair creaked as his weight was lifted from its unsteady frame. Just a few more hours. That's what he always told himself. It can't be that hard. The Union is depending on him. The people need him! And yet... He shook his head. Doubt is but the first step towards traitorism. As he began to pace back and forth, mimicking the movement of the snow outside, he subconsciously began practicing pacing movements. It was like watching an abused circus animal stricken with a bout of Zoochosis. Just as his mind began drifting to the warm embrace of his dilapidated apartment, a flash of movement from outside caught his attention. Finally, something interesting. He jumped up and pressed his face against the window, though his breath fogging up the glass obscured his vision. "Hello?" He cringed at how pathetic he sounded, so he cleared his throat and tried again, this time with more oomf. "Hello?! Who goes there? State your name!"

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Nestled in between two busy East Berlin streets was a rather unassuming Staatssicherheit checkpoint. The building consisted of four flimsy walls protected by a wall of sandbags facing west. On the practical side, it served as a stopping point along a series of similar such checkpoints, designed to check the legitimacy of those passing through the city. In a political sense, however, it represented a wall between the Communist East and the Capitalist West. The checkpoint was erected overnight along with a more permanent concrete version of the wall which it stood adjacent to. A general sense of outrage was felt by the civilians of both sectors. By now, talks between the governments of the Soviet Union and the United States had fallen apart, but very few expected the result to be a literal wall erected down the heart of the country's capital city. Families were separated, friends were torn, and as the tension began to build, everyone was left wondering the same question: now what? That tension was bubbling over into a sense of general discontentment felt by the inhabitants of the Eastern half of the city at the time. Much of this discontent was funneled into frustration towards those employed under the government. While already faced with a disproportionate amount of stress compared to those around him, East Germany, one of these government employees, just had another layer piled on with the erection of the recent wall. The once monotonous task of supervising the guards as they checked people's legal documents had become a tumultuous task of juggling angry pedestrians and now much more puerile guards. To add to his dilemmas, the new wall and tighter security meant he hadn't seen his brother in weeks. The two often enjoyed meeting up on the West side once a week for lunch, but now, he wasn't able to. The two began talking over the telephone, but soon enough, his brother stopped returning his calls. And although he preferred solitude, he would be lying if he said he didn't miss seeing the other countryhuman. Sadly, he was forced to suck it up and just hope the man would ring for him soon. He was also forced to such up the much rowdier clientele as of late. His usual stoic demeanor was becoming less effective at intimidating the younger guards into compliance, so he was forced to result to shouting. Granted, he disliked yelling at the checkpoint guards, since they were only trying to get by just as he was, but a small part of him took a perverse pleasure in the power he wielded over them. Still, he was growing tired of the in-subordinance. Every damn day, they seemed to push him further and further to his limit, and it wouldn't be long until he finally snapped. It was a cold October morning when East Germany stepped into the checkpoint. As per the usual, the guard he was supposed to be supervising was running late. But before he could really do anything about it, the man- no, he was more of a teenager in East Germany's eyes- rushed in whilst profusely apologising. Today, he didn't really have the energy to reprimand the guard, so he let him off with a warning, "Ja, ja. Just don't let it happen again." His voice lacked the usual coldness to it today. He had spent the entire night hovering over the telephone in hopes his brother might call again. Without another word, he resigned himself to standing silently in the corner. Both men remained silent for some time, and after awhile, East Germany slumped to the floor. His gaze drifted out the window and over to the wall which loomed over them. His mind began to drift off towards that of his brother, and a dissatisfied grumble escaped his lips. By the time he managed to turn his attention towards the guard, the younger man was fidgeting with his rifle. The East German's eyes narrowed. "Quit playing around with that before you shoot one of us." The guard stopped, and after sighing, East Germany returned his gaze to the window. He had about three uninterrupted minutes of silence before the sound of the guard's fidgeting once again caught his attention. He barked out a complaint and it stopped. This cycle repeated another three times before he finally snapped. The man was now lazily slouched against the wall of the checkpoint as he tried to block out the glare from the light as it came in through the window. Then, the sound of tapping on the window made him perk up. To his surprise, it wasn't the guard, but a civilian who stood outside the checkpoint. They had to either be the dumbest or bravest individual he'd come across in awhile because very few dared to march up to the checkpoint like that. He stood up, assuming the guard would deal with it, only to realise the man was too busy playing around with the trigger of his rifle to notice. Tired of telling him to stop and exhausted from the sleep deprivation, he snapped. Without a word, he marched over to the guard and kicked the rifle away. "What the fuck are you doing?" He pointed to the silhouette outside the window. "You have a job to do, mutt. Do it." The insult was a bit much, sure, but he didn't care. The guard did, however. Rather than oblige, he picked up the rifle and began waving it around, knowing East Germany didn't want to go through the paperwork involved with reporting someone for insubordination. Without missing a beat, East Germany turned around and slapped the guard. "DID YOU NOT JUST HEAR WHAT I FUCKING TOLD YOU?! I WILL SHOOT YOU HERE ON THE SPOT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" When he heard another tap on the window, he whirled around and faced said window. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?"

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