The Metal Man: An Account of a WW2 Nazi Cyborg by Ben Stevens Read Free Book Online

feeling suddenly nervous, Krylov said –
     
    ‘Fire – fire !’
     
    Konev’s machinegun was one of a number to emit a deadly chuckle, lighting up the night with their flashing muzzles. The strangely large, masked and goggled-eyed figure that was now just visible maybe fifty yards distant took the brunt of most of the rounds fired.
     
    Krylov grunted with satisfaction, and mentally admonished his strange display of nervousness. Whoever had been advancing was dead now (Krylov hardly needed to actually see the figure falling to the ground to be certain about this).
     
    But why had someone approached his unit like this in the first place? Had they actively been seeking suicide? Had no one in the German force sought to stop them…?
     
    ‘ Sir !’ Konev’s voice again, high and almost panicky – ‘Sir, it’s still coming!’
     
    Yes, Krylov could hear that whining sound again. The crunching of those – metal ? – boots on the rubble.
     
    The moon broke suddenly through the clouds and fully illuminated the dark figure marching towards them. It moved in a curiously slow and steady manner. It looked to be fully covered in some sort of gleaming, jet-black armor, head to toe.
     
    What the hell is this? thought Krylov frantically.
     
    Aloud, he said, ‘Fire again!’
     
    A multitude of weapons now opened up, more and more Soviet troops spreading out behind the ruined walls and buildings.
     
    Whatever it was barely paused as the bullets ricocheted off its armor.
     
    Krylov now observed that the black-armored figure was carrying its own weapon, cradled in its right arm with the left, thickly-gloved ( was that a glove?) hand holding the area close by the muzzle.
     
    But this gun looked huge – more like something you’d expect to see attached to the underside of a wing of a fighter-plane…
     
    Slowly, as though in a nightmare, Krylov saw the figure – bigger than any man he’d ever seen, although maybe that was the effect of the armor – bring this strange, outsized gun up to bear...
     
    ‘ Keep firing – use your grenades! ’ the Soviet officer all but screamed, as the massive gun erupted into life.
     
    Instantly Private Konev’s head exploded, splattering Krylov with blood and fragments of bone.
     
    The commander gave a wild yell, as he continued firing with his own pistol until the hammer was clicking on an empty chamber.
     
    A man to his left began shrieking with agony, his left arm gone at the shoulder, other men desperately trying to stem the spurting blood as they called for a medic.
     
    The old walls and torn-down buildings, used as cover by Krylov’s men, were being blown apart by whatever incredible weapon the armored figure was wielding.
     
    Krylov snatched a wild glance around. Everywhere his men seemed to be falling, screaming as the nightmare figure clad in that impenetrable black armor continued its remorseless march forward, firing all the while…
     
    Then a grenade exploded in a great ball of flame and blew the thing right off its feet.
     
    Krylov gave a yell of triumph. Thank God – the thing was impervious to all conventional weaponry, it seemed; but still there were ways in which its awful steady progress could be checked.   
     
    A silence fell. The thing was close enough now to be observed by every Soviet soldier, even in the dark.
     
    It lay still for a few moments.
     
    As though dead.
     
    Then it put out one massive arm – a red Swastika gleaming on its shoulder – and pushed its body back up, the whining starting again.
     
    It still held its huge gun in its right hand; it pulled the trigger and again the soldiers cowering behind the low, ruined walls were chewed into so much blood and bone.
     
    Now those still alive were starting to drop back, shouting out that it was hopeless – that this was a type of soldier they’d never had to face before.
     
    It cannot be destroyed!
     
    Such was Commander Krylov’s very last thought. The next moment his body was