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Title: RammZed
Author: Gaia name: xx--slice-of-health-xx. Real name: Wing Kailine Kreskavic.
Character(s): Rammstein, Rien Raus (Kayley Dobinson), Abi Storey, AKSU (Isaac, no last name, AKSU?), xx--slice-of-health-xx (Kailine Kreskavic)
Couples: Can't tell, you'll just have to read. whee
Genre: Horror Drama
Rating: R Slash Tear-Shedder
Summary: Rammstein is a Industrial Metal band based in Berlin, Germany. Although their music is German, they have fans all over the world. As they perform a tour in America, things go horribly wrong as a deadly virus breaks out and causes the infected humans to fiercely feed on those uninfected. Although the infected are technically dead, they continue to feed and spread the epidemic. The members of Rammstein have to adapt to a new way of survival and join up with other survivors, some of them fans of their work, as they continue to battle this new foe. Till, Reesh, Ollie, Schneider, Paul and Flake fight a special fight however. Not only do they have to compete against the undead horrors, but also against anti-Nazi rednecks and hicks that are so confused, they believe all Germans are Nazi's. It gets quite dangerous when real Neo-Nazis and Communist enter the fray in a attempt to control the anarchy and form a new world order. Will Rammstein be able to use the power of their music to end the aggression between their fellow humans and get them to work together to control the outbreak of zombies?


***Note this is a living document. That means, although I may be on part 8, I may still update part 1. If I do this, I will note it in first post. I'll take constructive criticism but if you just plain hate, I'll delete your post. I can use the room to post my own work or for other to say how great I am xd . You have been warned.***


Thanks to these people:
Thanks to Rein Raus, she inspired me to do this. Also for much more to list. Thanks my sister in Rammsteinism. Thanks to Herr Till Lindeman for the awesome guild. And last but certainly not least, Thanks to Rammstein for the truly great music. Keep up the awesome work guys.
 
Now, enjoy RammZed. I SAID ENJOY!!!!!11EINS


Salad, all of you get salad. (Had to throw that in there)


Chapter 1. Trouble at the Airport. Posted on Sept 16, 2008. Last update Sept 14, 2008.

"TILL!!!" the voice shouted. Several dozen people turned to watch the spectacle occurring in the airport terminal. "Did you eat my guitar?"
"Nein, did it not come through?" Till said eying the luggage depositor. Bags and suitcases dropped out every few seconds and just as quickly, someone nabbed them off the rotating conveyor belt. "Maybe it fell off the plane while we were over the ocean." Paul screamed and slumped against the wall with his head in his hands.
"Flake, your small, climb in there and see if it got stuck." Schneider said as he loaded an entire luggage trolley with his drums which were in a neat pile.
"You can throw that shite out of your head. There is no way I'm climbing in there." Flake slung his carry on off his shoulder and put his hands on his hips. "Who knows what filthy things are in there. I could get an infection and maybe die."
"I knew this American tour was a bad idea." Paul sighed though his fingers.
"You always say that you paranoid idiot."
"Till, if I'm a paranoid idiot, you're a fat a** penguin." The singer recoiled violently at this remark and glared at Paul.
"How many times have I told you not to call me that. I hate those birds."
"Why, they're so fuzzy and fluffy and cute and soft and-" Schneider stopped when he realized the others were starring at him with the most confused looks on their faces. "What? They are."
"I don't know you." Flake said as he grabbed one of his keyboards off the luggage turn table.
"Yes you do, you know you love me Flake."
"Go play with your drum sticks." Lorenz spat.
"I have to many fans I don't need to play with them my self."
"Ladies," Paul peeped up from the floor. "When you two are done playing together, maybe you can help me find my guitar."
"Paul, I think I found it.." Till pointed down the terminal as Ollie walked toward them carrying a large black bag with the R+ symbol stitched on it in silver thread.
"MIEN GITARRE!!" Paul shouted as he flung himself at the bassist.
"Some idiot thought it would be a nice idea to "borrow" your guitar. I chased him down and, well, he won't be out of the hospital for a while... if the paramedics can even find him."
"What did you do to him and where is he?" Flake asked him with that motherly glare.
"I just-" He was cut off as men in white uniforms pushed past him pulling a gurney with a wet, bloody mass on it. Another man was holding an IV bag up in an attempt to get fluids in the injured person. "They found him."
"Ach mien Gott. What is that smell?" coughed Till as he pinched his nose. The others did the same looking at Ollie.
"Well, it was his mistake for running towards the septic tank for the planes, the airport's mistake for cleaning it out, and Paul's mistake for not grabbing his guitar earlier." Paul gave Ollie Flake's 'motherly eye' trying to pry more out of him.
"I hope at least my guitar is dry."
"It's fine, I only threw the guy in after I took your guitar."
"Guys, tour buss is here." Richard walked toward the group pointing out the window. Behind him was another luggage cart. "What in the name of Ramstein is that smell?"
"Ollie's fault. Lets go, people are starting to stare and I think I see someone pulling out an autograph book." Till lead the way out of the terminal and toward a massive bus covered in heat wrapped cellophane. The only thing's uncovered were the mirrors, the front wind shield, and the door which sported the neck of a bass guitar and a hand pressing the frets. In front of the bus, an ambulance activated it's lights and siren before speeding away.
"I like the paint job." Flake said. "Why couldn't they get the door too?"
"It's obvious they understand true talent." Ollie said condescendingly.
"It's not because you play bass, because the door needs to open to get us in it." Schneider said as the door opened. A young man stepped out and hurried toward the group.
"Gutten tag. My name is Stanley Checks. I'll be your driver for the tour. Lets get your gear loaded quickly." Checks instantly grabbed two carts and expertly swung one around and pulled them to the buss where he opened two storage compartments hidden by the cellophane.
"They can get those but not the door?"
"Shut up Paul, your just mad because it's my hand there and not your. Also, your guitar smells."
"My guitar doesn't smell." He sniffs the velvet and nylon bag to make sure of his claim before turning back to Ollie. "It smells as nice as a fresh flower on a spring day."
"Maybe I should have thrown your guitar in the pit too."
"If you did, I would have Till eat you."
"He already has a big a**, any bigger and he won't fit on the bus."
"Ollie, you may have your hand on the bus but, big a** or not, I'm still the sexiest member." Till said before pulling his cart to Checks who finished loading the other  two carts.
"We should leave soon. Your first gig is in Miami, Florida. 18 hour drive." the driver said.
"He's right, people are beginning to stare. Let's get the rest of our stuff-" Till never finished his statement.
"OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!! IT'S TILL LINDEMANN!! AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!" A young girl screamed as she hung on Tills shoulders. Almost instantly, at least a dozen more raging fans swarmed the group as they tried in vein to resist the throng.
Ladies, please. We don't have time-" Paul tried to get a word in edge wise but was blocked out by the women.
"Will you sign my autograph book?" "Will you sign my breast?" "Will you sign my a**?" The screaming continued until several fans were pushed out of the way be the tour bus which had started up and positioned it's self next top the stranded musicians. The door opened and Flake reached out a hand to his comrades but was instead grasped by the fans.
"Doktor Lorenz, will you be MY doctor?"Several fans screamed.
"No, I'm sorry. I'm not a real doctor, it's just a nick name. Guys come on." He retreated back into the bus as the rest of the band followed pushing fans out of the way and tried to board the bus. Ollie was first inside followed by Till, Schneider, and Reesh.
"Wait, we lost Paul." Till didn't see him get on after Reesh and he wasn't already on the bus.
"Ladies, one at a time. There's enough of me to go around." The five safe members looked out a window and saw Paul with a marker in each hand signing anything that came before him.
"Ach mein Gott. We need to get him out of there." Flake said after Paul signed one woman's breast.
"I'll go, open the door when I say so." Till positioned himself next to the door, took a few deep breaths, and readied to dash out and retrieve the stranded Paul.
"Ready?" Ollie asked. He grabbed the door handle and waited.
Till nodded and Ollie threw the door open. Instantly, before it was fully opened, hands wielding pens, markers and note books shot through the small opening grasping for anything and everything. It took all five members to push them out the door just enough to close it.
"That didn't work." panted Reesh as he slumped against the door. Ollie was standing by him pushing on the door making sure it was close.
"Now what?" he asked.
"We can wait until they get tired of Paul and leave."
"Fat chance of that happening." A knock came from the window. The men turned to see Paul beating on the glass yelling.
"Hilf mir. Ich will innen!! Anschlag. Nien mehr autographe! No more autographs!" He yelled as more hands grabbed him and pulled him down. As his head disappeared into the madness, he screamed one last time. "HILF MIR, HILR MIR!!" The other members could only watch in horror as Paul's hand sunk into the sea of maniac fans and vanished from view.
"NEIN, NEIN! Paul!! Till yelled as he scanned the crown for any sign of the missing guitarist. "We have to help him."
"How?" Flake asked giving him the eye. "You want to open that door again? I didn't think so."
"Checks!" Ollie yelled to the front of the bus.
"Yeah?" The reply drifted from an open door.
"Any back doors?" Checks' head popped out, a blue hat on his head was lopsided.
"No, the windows open but they won't go back in. They're fire exits." He rubbed his chin a bit before continuing. "There is a moon roof on top and a ladder at the back on the outside."
"Perfect." Flake ran back to the window and knocked on it. "PAUL! If you can hear me, go to the back of the bus. We'll meet you there."
"Checks, how do we open the moon roof?"
"You see that panel on the wall, Till?" Checks pointed to a numbered keypad near the door.
"Yeah."
"Hit seven-nine-four-eight." Till input the numbers and the roof folded back into an accordion like figure and the sky shone through. Along with the daylight, the screams and yells of men and women alike poured through along with a torn figure.
"Schließen es, schließen die tür!!" Paul screamed as he hit the floor. "Bitte, bitte. Schließen es!!" He was panicking and backing into a corner.
"Checks, how do I close it?"
"The code backwards." Till pressed the buttons backwards and the moon roof closed shutting out the sounds of the wild fans.
“There were dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. So many markers. So many signings.” Ollie rushed over with a blanket he found in a closet and draped it over the nervous wreck.
"Sorge nicht. Du bist sicher. They can't get you in here." Ollie and Flake lead Paul to a couch and sat him down. Schneider rummaged in a cabinet and drew a cup and filled it with water from a tap.
"Trinken dieses. Dich fühlen besser bald." He handed the water to Paul who grasped it with shaking hands. After a few sips he sat back and sighed.
"Thanks guys. I'm sure they would have torn my arms off just to say 'I have Paul Lander's arm.' At least we don't have to worry about pulling off the cellophane. They got all of it out there."
"They will probably say 'This was part of Rammstein's tour bus.' and frame it on their wall." Flake said before walking to the head of the bus. After a short talk with Checks, he came back and explained the situation. "There are too many people out there for us to leave now but Checks got on the radio and called some help. Law enforcement officials are coming to disperse the crowds. We should be out of here soon."
They all looked out of the window and witnessed riot police armed with water hoses spray the crowd. People ran away trying to avoid the high pressure lets of water but some people were determined to get at the members. One person climbed on a wheel and knocked on the glass yelling something and holding a soaked note pad and a pen before a shot of water made him change his mind and jumped off.
"I feel bad for those people. All they want is for us to sign their little note pads." Till said watching the person run off.
"Don't worry." Checks shouted from the front. "The police aren't really using pressure. They're just getting the people wet. Besides, we really need to get down to Florida. First concert is, get this, on a beach." Till looked away from the window and glared at the driver behind the partition.
"I still feel bad."
"So do we all but they wouldn't leave. Ever." Ollie said before really taking in the surroundings.
The bus was massive inside and out. It had a functioning kitchen and living area. He examined the numbered key pad and noticed a small tab on the bottom. He pulled it and a list of numbers and commands slid out. Ollie browsed the paper before licking one of the items on it and pressing the corresponding buttons. He heard a low sound and a section of wall slid down and a large, flat screen TV was now visible. Richard picked up a remote and pressed a button. The TV turned on and a news broad cast showed.
"I'm here at JFK airport where local and federal authorities have just disperses a riot using nonlethal methods. The source of the riot is unknown but officials believe it to be the cause of a yet unknown foreign group visiting the country. The group is not available for questioning but a police spokesperson commented 'We hoped to keep the group's visit low key and under wraps but they were discovered and several dozen citizens swarmed them before they could get to safety.' The group is now in a safe and currently unknown location and we are- I just received word from our producer that we have actual footage of the riot and one of the visitors being over taken by the crowd. This is very graphic footage and viewer discretion is advised."
The screen cut to a picture of a large group of people around a bus covered in cellophane. One person climbed to a window and beat on it shouting.
"Hilf mir. Ich will innen!! Anschlag. Nien mehr autographe! No more autographs!" Several hands dragged the person off the window who was still screaming. "HILF MIR, HILF MIR!!" The person disappeared from view and the screen cut back to the reporter.
"You have just witnessed one of the visitors being attacked by the group of people. We have word he is unharmed and safe. There is still no word as to their location or who they are. We will continue to bring you updates on this event as it unfolds. Back to you in the studio, John." Ollie slapped the power button on the television and the picture of a man in a suit and tie faded into black.
"Checks, lets get out of here." Schneider shouted.
"Can't yet. We are still waiting for police escort. Wait, never mind. Here they are." The driver spoke into a CB radio and listened to a reply before starting up the bus. He shifted into gear and pulled out of the airport. "We only have the escort until we get out of the city. That's for two and a half hours. Get comfortable." Checks said before pulling a door closed and shutting himself off from the rest of the band.
"I think we scare him." Till said.
"We scare any one who isn't a fan." Flake said. "Lets worry about getting down to... where ever we're going, alive."
"Yeah, we need to get into the mentality they we're not in Germany any more. This is America and we need to remember we're guests." Ollie said. "Paul, are you all right?"
"Huh, oh. Ja I'm fine. I just have a bad feeling about this tour."
"The only reason you're saying that is because you got molested by a swarm of raging fans." Ollie said slapping him on the back. "Lighten up. This will be fun. America is a new canvas ready for us to shape it and morph it into something different." He walked off to explore the rest of the bus along with the other 4 men leaving the distraught Paul alone to ponder his recent brush with death... and his recent vision.
"Maybe they're right. We'll be fine." He looked out the window at the people zooming by. The bus slowed to pass a red light and Paul saw a small child wearing a ball cap with the R+ on it and holding a stuffed bear caught his attention. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, the child was gone. "Did you guys see-" He stopped before he went to far. He worked hard to suppress the visions and he was damned if he would let them ruin his trip to America. "I'm fine, I'm fine. We're all fine. Nothing will happen." He repeated this until his heart began beating at it's regular rate. "Great. I wonder if this place has any food." Paul got up and began nosing around looking for something to sate his hunger.


Outside, a young boy clutched his teddy closer as two policemen on motor bikes sped past, followed by a large bus and two more policemen on bikes.
"Don't shut me out." He whispered before turning and walking away.

Chapter 2. Just Another Day, Posted Sept 18, 2008. Last update Sept 18, 2008

Salad, all of you get sallad.



I browsed through the day's mail not really expecting anything except bills and junk. My mind wandered to the tickets upstairs in my fire safe. Not too long until I was comfortable inside the stadium watching Rammstein in person. I noticed that my hand stopped flipping through the envelopes. It does that sometimes, flips through them on it's own while stopping only on something important. This letter could not be any more important than the usual crap.
It was silver; no way was it paper, maybe some kind of velum or velour. Classy stuff, golden thread embroiled my name and address and the return address. Something else caught my attention. The stamp was press stamped with the symbol I saw every day. The symbol that was tattooed on my right hand between my thumb and index finger. In fact, my entire right arm was a tribute to them. The R+ design looked up at me, returning my own gaze as if it was beckoning to me, calling me to some unknown destination inside my own mind.
"Are you going to open it?" The voice caught me off guard. I didn't expect him so early.
"Eventually." I replied, denying him as much info as possible.
"Don't resist me, you know you can't. There is nothing you can keep from me." His voice, it bore into my head like a drill, spiraling deeper and deeper until he could draw from me anything he wanted.
I dropped the letter on the table next to the coffee I intended to drink. Now, in his presence, I lost the will to finish the black beverage. I walked over to a frame of reflective glass. The mirror was next to the refrigerator, a crack ran from the lower left corner and arched to the lower right corner, a testimony to her, the only person I ever-
"Don't bring her up again. You'll only get another tattoo and you're running out of room."
"Shut up. They're a great band." I was beginning to get angry. Glaring at the figure before me in the mirror, I willed away the voice. But I couldn't, no more than I could will away my own soul.
"You know I'm right, however. There isn't any more room on your arm."
He was right. I shot a glance down at my right arm. I imagined the ink sealed into my skin beneath the long sleeve of my shirt. All of my shirts were like this. Long right sleeve, short left sleeve. And the glove I wore. My supervisor hated the band so the only reason I kept the ink hidden was so I could keep my job. So I could make money and buy tickets like the one upstairs. Again my thoughts drifted to the concert. Their first American gig. I was almost giddy with excitement. I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves and continued to get ready for work. Clothes, hair- slicked back out of my face. Long hair on this job can be deadly. Today I needed to be more careful. I grabbed a pony tail holder and secured my foot-and-a-half long hair. I made sure to get a white one to match my hair. I may be a guy but I cared about how my hair is treated.
"You're going to be late." Again he never missed a chance to piss me off.
"Fine, I'm leaving." Walking out the door, I made sure to grab my apron and mask. The welding unit was already on sight and I don't want to wear scorched clothes to the concert. "Do me a favor, stay out of my head for this one. I really don't need any bad news this weekend."
"You got it champ." Champ, I hated that word like I hated my father, or the man who claimed to be my father. I pushed the thoughts from my head and walked out to my car. The gold Toyota Camry waited for me on the corner of the street. No room in the garage, too many projects in there so I parked on the street. I wasn't worried about vandals. Half of my neighbors were police men. I liked this neighborhood; it was safe and clean. I looked at the house next to mine and saw old man Jurgen mowing his lawn. Pulling up to him, I rolled down the passenger window.
"Gutten tag, Herr Jurgen. How's the family faring?"
"Hallo. Very well. Thanks for asking. And my wife says thanks for the china, she loves it." The china was something I found in an antique shop. Quite pricy but Frau Jurgen was a good woman. She made cookies for me every now and then.
"Well, I got to go. Big day ahead."
"Okay, take care. Come back when you can stay longer."
"I will." I waived and pulled onto the main street. Sighing, I popped in my Rosenrot album and put on Wo Bist Du. As the clarinet started, I again thought of her. Never again would I see her, or so I though.
Red light. I stopped and glanced out my window at the children playing on the play ground. One child was separate from the others. He sported the nicest hat I ever saw. It had the familiar R+ on it. A small teddy bear was gripped in his arms. The music shifted to the more rock part and I flinched. How could I lose track of the music. I turned and the child was gone.
Green light. Great. Work couldn't end fast enough. And it hasn't even started.