Die Walküre: Ragnarök

Story by Flesh_Seraph

Die Walküre: Ragnarök (PART 1)

In a world almost exactly like our own, history has started to unfold differently, with the beginnings of a newhalf race appearing in the late 20th century and coming to legitimacy in the 21st. In socially developed countries who could not simply eliminate them on religious grounds, they have come to be recognized as a minority with all the rights and protections inherent in such a status.

But like many minorities, these newhalf beings face prejudice and bigotry from the established order, and from people who fear change. This sexual bigotry also means that people of gay, lesbian, transgendered, or hermaphroditic nature are caught in the crossfire. Many people seek a return to a more traditional way of sexual life.

Die Walküre takes place in the year 2008. Please enjoy.

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2 all u wondering I go 2 the same school as this bitch, not gonna say who I am but if I said my name u would know it…anyway I just want to drop in to say that u should do the world a favor and kill urself…u really think anyone cares about u! nobody gives a fuk about you wearing a tie DYKE!!! u act like things have changes with all the freaks nowadays…they should ship u and all of them and put u on an island somewhere…then drop a bomb on it. U r stupid…ugly…and when I talk to the other girls about u we laugh and laugh…even sean mac told us how bad u smell and we fukin laughed so hard. if you want a cock so bad go get one and get the fuk out of our school u freak bitch

Srsly go kill urself

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Cassie looked over her handiwork and an impish smirk lit one side of her mouth. With the whiteness of her screen monitor reflecting in her eyes, her usual alpha-bitch gaze of triumph was modified into something even more sinister and robotic, morphing her young and angular face into that of the ghastly blog “terminator” whom she currently fancied herself. Cassie could already imagine Sarah Liebermann throwing herself around her white trash townhouse bedroom at the sight of this latest comment, maybe dismantling one of her Bic Lady Disposables to prepare for the inevitable emo wrist-cutting adventure. That outcome would suit Cassie just fine- she hated Sarah Liebermann. Not because of anything that Sarah had ever done to her, but because Sarah was just plain weird…and with the changes going on in the world, the mass-scale influx of hermaphroditic culture…sometimes a good ol’ fashioned “normal” girl just needed to let her frustration be known. In Cassie’s opinion, people were tired of the bullshit, the “newhalf political correctness”. They wanted their old way of life back- the version where a mother didn’t have to worry about her daughter becoming attached to some dick-swinging, sex-crazed freak.

Cassie leaned back on her bed, the hiss of her laptop fan the only sound in the empty house, and considered the situation. Sarah Liebermann had always been gender-confused, that much was for sure- and as far as Cassie was concerned, she never wanted to see, hear, or think about any form of gender confusion ever again. Sarah Liebermann was no dickgirl (thank god) but she was definitely headed for a sex-change operation, and Cassie was tired of Sarah stubbornly clinging to some manner of social life. The pants-wearing, dyke-culture embracing Sarah had chosen her path- freakdom. What irritated Cassie most was that Sarah wouldn’t just get in the closet and shut the fuck up about it, no. In fact, Sarah figured that this strange new dickgirl phenomenon was just the excuse she needed to get more involved and let her voice be heard.

“She’s always shoving it in people’s faces!” Cassie had once complained to her friend Brooke, a fellow cheerleader and proud daughter of parents who were often away, leaving ample opportunities for amazing parties to which people like Sarah Liebermann weren’t invited. “God I hate her…what happened to just being a girl? What happened to just dating guys, marrying one, not being such a weird bitch all the time?”

“She’s definitely a weird bitch,” Brooke had replied. Even over the phone, Cassie had known exactly what pose Brooke was in. Flat on her stomach on her bed, perpendicular to the length of it, with her feet dangling off one end, a television remote control in one hand, and her cell in the other. It was almost a certainty t

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