The Disappearance of Gilbert Beilschmidt

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'You aren't anything anymore

Your friends continue to rise above you, and one day you'll be forgotten.

Come with me and I'll make you great again.'

You all would have forgotten me otherwise.

**

English girl found dead in abandoned house in Germany. Autopsy claims she was strangled to death. Culprit unfound.

Gilbert was someone you couldn't forget about. His ever growing ego, the ever growing volume of his voice when he boasted about how awesome he was.

But they all knew he was slowly fading.


Prussia was gone, instead just becoming another part of Germany.


Soon, Gilbert would become a human, live his life, and fade from this world as every other human did. That was how everyone assumed he would go.


No one suspected in the least that he would just suddenly disappear.

No one noticed it at first- but things were definitely different. It was just a little quieter wherever they went, for one. But everyone just brushed it off.


Maybe I should have done so too.


I was one of the closest to Gilbert, so I foolishly took it upon myself to look for him. To see what happened to my Prussian friend and his ego.


My search lead me, eventually, to a rundown, seemingly abandoned house in Germany, East Germany, in the middle of nowhere. I'd have believed it to be Gilbert's house, if it was a bit more taken care of. If he was as awesome as he said he was, it was unlikely he'd put up with living in a house of this state.


I felt hardly any unease walking through the frame of the front door- the door itself seemed to have long ago been torn off it's hinges- and searching the house. The windows were smashed and broken, letting sunlight drift in and cause the broken pieces of glass spread around the floor to glimmer and shine, something rather beautiful but at the same time annoying.


A search on the first floor of the building revealed nothing, nothing but a couple of rotting floorboards and a bunch of moth eaten furniture.

Now was the time for unease to settle inside of me.


The stairs were wooden and old, and the banister didn't look like much use either.I'd have to take my chances, and either fall through, break ever stair as I dashed up, leaving myself stuck on the second floor unless I jumped down, or risk it for a stroke of luck that wouldn't allow me to break through any of the wooden planks.


I decided I was going to take it steady. Hand on the banister, I edged forward and eased my foot onto the first step.


Nothing happened.


The process repeated, each time it worked reassuring me more and more that the stairs were actually, despite their rickety and rotted looks, dependable.

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