[ WP ] Hitler was a man from the future , chosen for his kindness to go back in time to stop the apocalypse , yet the only way he could stop the apocalypse was to commit his monstrous actions .

The man slid the paintbrush slowly down the canvas. His left hand held the palette. 
 
 `` You know who I idolised the most?'' he asks me. It's a surreal experience, hearing his voice. His true voice, his speaking voice. My exposure to this man has been solely recordings of speeches, where he ranted and raved and worked the crowd. Impressive, but offering no insight into his true nature. 
 
 He was tired. His strokes were slow and focused, but a product of practice and experience. His face was gaunt, his shoulders slightly slumped, as if painting, the thing he loved, was all that kept him standing, kept him afloat. 
 
 `` No,'' I replied. I had come to hear his story. The CIA's declassified documents told us the truth of Hitler, but they did n't tell us why. Why he did what he did. The CIA had told him only to stop the nuclear war. Nothing more. So why the holocaust? 
 
 Others dismissed his niceness as a facade. But I'd seen his reports to the future. I'd seen his paintings and writings from before he had went back in time. Either the past, and the atrocities he'd committed had warped him into a monster, or he had found a reason so compelling that the Holocaust was necessary. Whatever the case, I would hear him out. He deserved that, at least. We all do. 
 
 `` Bob Ross. I was raised on those videos,'' he smiled wistfully, putting down his painting materials, and sitting down on the couch opposite me. `` I often wished they had let me bring at least one holo-vid back here. Just one, to pass the time, in this place,'' he looks around the room, with its stone and concrete walls. I had come to visit him in the FuhrerBunker. Just before the end. He would kill himself tomorrow. There were few, if any, time travelers around. The rest of this man's life is a constant battle in the shadows, of time travelers dueling to change, or retain history. 
 
 `` So, I assume you wish to know why?'' the man asked. 
 
 `` Astute,'' I nodded. `` I know about the rest. Without Germany as a major player in the war, Italy and Japan's decimation by the atom bombs of the US spurs the USSR into the'Blue Scare' that would destroy the world. But... why the holocaust?'' I ask. 
 
 `` I asked myself many times if what I did was right. Every second. Every day. I never had a good night's sleep. But I must believe it was. I do n't think I could believe anything else. Tell me... if the documents are declassified... am I a hero there? I never expected credit for my work, but...'' 
 
 I shake my head. `` That depends on what you tell me. I work for a very large news organistation. We'll get your story out. What happens next is up to them,'' I click my pen. 
 
 `` More than I could ever hope for. Thank you,'' he shakes my hand. It's a firm handshake, from a pale hand. No doubt he'd used it many times in his political career. 
 
 `` Write about the rest of my work, somewhere in there, would you? Write about how I railed against smoking, and animal abuse. About the jobs I created, and the economic travesty Germany was in,'' he bites his lip. I'm a journalist, I know what's going on. Those telltale signs spoke volumes about his situation. 
 
 `` Listen, Adolf. I know you're worried. Worried about whether they'll accept it, whether you did the right thing. I... ca n't say. But you need to tell us what it is, so it may at least get out there. So the truth can be known.'' I put a hand over his, grasping it firmly. 
 
 Hitler exhales, shakily, and nods. 
 
 `` Do you know what Israel is?'' he asks. I nod, slowly, encouragingly. 
 
 `` It's a country in the middle east, no? A state created especially for the Jews,'' he continues. `` Jewish persecution was nothing new. The pogroms in Russia... you've seen the pictures. And the people did not blindly follow me. They hated them too. Before they sent me here, to Germany, I studied history intensively. Every facet of it, every little detail. In my world, the original world, the world you've never seen... civil rights never exist. The blacks, the chinese, the japanese and the jews, they never leave the thumb of the Western world. The US continues to keep slaves. The Japanese, incensed by the lack of equal treatment, fight furiously against the Western world. China joins them, and the Russians and the West fight to the death,'' he declares. The fire is back in his eyes, the look that had enraptured a country. 
 
 `` Wars are fought on ideals, friend. The Russians had a point: the US would not look at their own shortcomings until a while after the cold war ended, until King and Mandela. In my world, they looked at civil rights, and decided against it. The lack of equality of man is what destroyed humanity!'' Hitler is angry. The kindest man the world has seen, filled with righteous fury at what the world did. What it forced him to do. I keep writing. 
 
 `` The holocaust created Israel, a dam against political problems in the middle east. It forced the Americans to consider what they were, what they were doing, and what they wanted to be, and become the bastion of equality and peace, for a time. The United States was isolationist, back then. They refused to join the League of Nations, their own brainchild! It was a disgrace.'' 
 
 `` Tell them that, friend. Tell them Adolf Hitler committed atrocities so mankind knew to never consider them again. To be wary of the darkness in their own hearts,'' his voice drops to a whisper. I nod. What more is there for me to say. 
 
 `` Those who fight against darkness must spend the most time in the shadow. And they who fight monsters must take care not to become monsters themselves,'' he looks up at me, determination burning there. 
 
 `` That time has passed for me. My soul is stained now. Go. My work is done, and I must take a long, deep, reflection as to my life. Take the painting,'' he stands up to leave. 
 
 `` Eva!'' he calls out, looking for his wife. I step over to the painting, which he had staunchly refused to show me. It's a self-portrait of the man, of Hitler himself, looking at the viewer. In his eyes are burning bodies and wire fences, images of regret and despair. It is magnificent. Scrawled at the bottom, is simply: `` Forgive me.'' 
 
 I take the painting, and return to my time, to bring you this report. Above is my unedited transcript of my conversation with the man himself. Consider it carefully. 
 
 -- - 
 
 Whew, that was complex, was n't it? I'm a history student, so I had plenty to work with. /r/poiyurt is my sub. 
 
 Oh, and [ here's a conversation where Hitler uses his normal voice. ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? hl=en-GB & v=ClR9tcpKZec & gl=SG )
