3L3V3N and five
Jacob left the hospital with nothing but a security tape. Normally pulling a stunt like that, impersonating an officer, would mean a fiver in some correction facility. Luckily for him nobody suspected anything.
He stepped into his Chevy and drove home. On the way he kept thinking, how is it that nobody saw or heard anything at the hospital, yet they give away the security tapes so easily?
He drove all the way up to Galloway avenue to one of his friends who works at the local TV station.
Tim was a cameraman and prior to his work at the station he worked in the porn industry. Despite that, he had a lot of knowledge on “moving pictures”.
Jacob pulled up the driveway and headed towards the entrance door to Tim’s house. Somehow though, Tim was expecting him at the doorway.
“Looks like a night!” Tim said, while sipping on a brew.
“Looks like it buddy. What are you doing outside?”
“Seems to me that you have a challenge for me, is it so?”
“How did you know?” Jacob asked suspiciously.
“Well, I’ve known you for what…12-13 years? All this time you would always call before coming here. Whenever you wanted something fast you would just show up. Am I right?”
“I guess my man…Listen up, I want you to see this tape and look for anything out of he ordinary. It’s the tape from the hospital where the disappearance took place”
“The wha…what? How the fuck did you get that tape?”
“Don’t ask. Just look at it OK? Give me a ring if something’s up, will ya?
“Will do my man! I’ll get on it after I drop a clinker. Them nachos I had made my stomach feel funny.”
“Dude….enough with the info. Just do it!”
“Ok…ok…don’t get your panties in a twist. Jeez…are You stressed up!”
“Yeah…I know. Got to go. Hey Tim…thanks man!”
“No worries chief! Will ring ASAP”
Jacob left Tim and headed back to his place. The night was dark and humid, and it felt like your clothes could become attached to your skin. It is always been like this, this time of the year. During the day, it would be hot and sunny, with some cloudy instances, and at night, it would be humid and hot. Bad combo.
Jacob pulled up at his house. He wanted something to drink fast. It has been too much for him these past months. He opened his door to his house and fell on the couch like he was working 24-7.
He reached to the side where the fridge was and pulled out a brew.
He turned on the TV and watched. Why is it, that the best shows are always late at night?
Here he is watching Charlie’s Angels in he middle of the night, drinking a beer, and feels like he has been digging all day.
Still he enjoys this little time of relaxation. Not for long though.
His cell rings. He reaches down his jeans and pulls out his cell.
It’s Tim. “Dude…you better come back. There’s definitely something going on here. You should come right away…”
“Be there in a few minutes Tim!”
So much for a quite night! Jacob storms out the door and gets into the Chevy. Pedal to the metal for Tim’s house. The radio on the way plays a strange song. Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper”. A funny feeling crawls up his spine. He presses his foot harder on the accelerator, and the wheels spin and screech like a pack of wild stallions.
He pulls in front of Tim’s house. Something’s wrong. The door is wide open. Immediately, he thought of the worst case ever, but relaxes himself as soon as Tim shows up in the doorway.
“Man, you gotta see this quick!” Tim says excited.
“What is it? Did you find anything?”
“Anything? Man that’s the understatement of the year. Check this out”
Tim shows Jacob a specific part of the security tape. It’s right before Helena’s death. The lighting is poor yet one may see the nurse walking up and about.
Just before returning to her desk, the camera caught a strange shade moving counter to its rotation.
“Wait!” Jacob said. “What is that?”
Tim tries to zoom in on the location Jacob suggested.
Both of them place literally their heads inches from the screen so as to make out the strange shade from the rest of the environment.
“What the fuck…?” Jacob exclaims.
And there it was. The strange shade appeared clearly when Tim frizzed the pane.
A German SS officer standing in the shadows staring at Helena. His face is not visible due to his hat, but both men can see the insignia and the black leather outfit, customary of the SS Corps.
“Could this be some wannabe Halloween freak?” Tim asked reluctantly.
Jacob looked at him like he was spaced out. “Tim, I think that he is not a freak show. I think that whatever he is, it’s something that we are not prepared for.”
“We? When did we become we?” Tim asked with fright in his tone.
“Come on you pussy! Don’t be like this. I have been trying to find something about my sister and how she disappeared for months, and with your help this is the only lead I have after all this time. Don’t ditch me now man!”
“Listen Jacob, I’m just a simple cameraman, a working stiff, I’m not cut out for some adventure hunt or whatever you call it. Plus, I am absolutely not going to sleep for the rest of my life after seeing this. You have to understand me…”
“Man I am not asking you to go on a hunt. I’m simply asking you to help me get to the bottom of this.”
“Ok man. I’ll help. But don’t ask me to go on a manhunt or anything or I’ll go ape shit on your ass!” Tim replied less cordially.
Both men stared at the image on the screen till morning. Trying to figure out what to do next. How could they start looking for this man, or thing?

iNt3RMiSSion

Germany, February 22nd 1943, “The Maenad Bistro”
During the late 18th century many writers and poets of the era became addicted to morphine and absinthe, as means to a next intellectual level that would assist them in writing the “masterpiece” of the century. Some of them did succeed, some of them died trying, and others simply died after long addiction to the drugs and hallucinogenic alcohol drink.
Those few that broke free of the barrier of self-consciousness, gave the world exquisite works of art. And others, simply died without being credited for their work.
Vogell became addicted to these vices after Elsa’s death. He was looking for a release, or death.
Always sitting at the darkest corner of the bistro, shooting the poison in his veins, and drinking the “green Fairy”.
One would say, that he desired only death and nothing more. Others would say that he wanted to speak to the Netherworld, and see one last time his beloved Elsa.
Only he knew…
One night, while he was being served by some waitress, a bunch of German high ranking officers entered the bistro. All of them wearing the steely facade of the SS; Arian, ruthless, and above all deviants.
They sat two tables next to Vogell, who at the time was shooting morphine.
One the officers, approached Vogell and asked for his permission to sit next to him.
“Gutten Tag mein Herr” he said, while tapping his heels together, and saluting “Sig Heil”.
“What do you want?” Vogell asked, rather boringly.
“I understand that you are Dr. Vogell. The well known geneticist. Are you not?”
“I used to be…not anymore.” Vogell replied.
“Herr Doctor, as a fellow SS officer I must insist upon your poor stance, that it is not complementary for an Ubersturmfuhrer of the SS to be acting as such!” the officer exclaimed.
Vogell in an infuriated move grabbed the youngster by the throat and pushed him back, making him fall off his chair.
“Shut up you little twat! I was making breakthroughs when you were still sucking on your mother’s tit! How dare you speak to me like this?”
The officer taken aback by this, loosened up his pose and retorted in a cordial manner.
“I beg your forgiveness Sir. It was uncalled for this behavior on my behalf. Especially on a superior officer.”
Vogell replied swiftly: “Get away from me…now!”
The officers moved away from Vogell like he was possessed. In fact they were so intimidated that they left the bistro.
Vogell returned to his slumber in the world of drugs and abuse.
When the bistro was about to close for the night, he received a visit by a strange man by the name Cogliostro.
“Doctor….” he said.
Vogell looked up boringly.
In front of him was standing a man 6 feet tall, all dressed in black. His eyes were hiding behind a dark cape that gleamed in the candlelight.
He had a beard that fashioned a white stripe across the middle of his chin, and he wore a ring on his lower lip. How could anyone not see this man walking about in the city like this?
“Doctor…I am a founding member of the Thule Society, an occult preservation group that seeks answers regarding our race in the reaches of the Netherworld. We seek for gifted individuals to assist us in fulfilling this journey, this quest. Will you join us? You come highly recommended by Gestapo chief Herr Brunwald. He speaks highly of you…”
“How kind of him…I don’t care.” Vogell answered.
“My friend, please, come to one of our meetings. Listen to what we have to say, see what we have to face, and prepare for journeys to the unknown corners of the subconscious and the Netherworld!” Gogliostro added as if he knew exactly what to say.
“The..the..Netherworld?” Vogell asked with hunger in his eyes.
“Yes my friend. We are proud to say that we have made successful contact with the spirits of old and those of our beloved ones. We are using powers unlike any man has ever used before. Come and see for yourself…”
Vogell’s heart started beating again to rhythms it had forgotten. He felt this was the time to be reunited with his beloved Elsa.
The only thing that came to his head was this old Celtic poem he used to reside to her at nights before she went to sleep:
“I once long ago, to the seas I had to go,
To see a familiar face, although I were out of place,
And to this place I crept, and all night I wept
For then I knew for sure that my quest was indeed obscure.
But then in the midst of the seven seas, and unlike my eyes have ever seen, Valhalla opened up its gates, and revealed to my gaze, the maiden of old indeed, so beautiful and serene, to my hearts desire, that burnt like fire.
And by your beauty I go forth, to the reaches of the North,
To end my quest for love, flying like a white dove, upon the railing of my ship, to which you hold the fate, for if I am late, you may crash it to the rocks, and plunder me beneath, to the bottom of the sea, so I may be at peace, with your memory embracing me…”
Vogell looked Cogliostro in the eyes…”I will come whenever you call me…friend.”
“Good…good…!” Cogliostro answered with a cunning smile on his face, as if he waited long for Vogell’s answer.
The man left as soon as he finished his sentence. He left behind only a card that portrayed a crucifix sword in front of a right-sided swastika; The Thule Society emblem.

3L3V3N and six
The weather was rainy that day. Jacob was working in the auto body shop. His boss, the creep, was out, “hunting some piece of ass” as he so eloquently puts it.
The rain was falling so heavy that the window stoppers could barely contain the water coming in from the sides. Jacob thought to himself for some reason: “God is angry today!!”
Still, he remained inside and decided to modify his Chevelle.
That car was a piece of work. He got in 1984 after his father’s death. He left it to him in his will. It was a junk back then, but as soon he got his driving license, he decided to throw a little backbone and fix it.
He placed the car on the elevator, slowly, not to hurt or scratch the rims. Then he went underneath, to work on the engine.
He had only one coffee that day, and he hadn’t eaten anything, plus he felt a little uneasy. Still, he decided to finish what he started.
A little screw here, a nudge there, some fine tuning, and then engine start to check the carburetors, and the filters.
He wasn’t very meticulous because he just wanted the car to be running. But he was in love with that car. You can tell when a man loves his car. You can tell best, when he is washing it or polishing it. Every stroke is so gentle like a hand on a woman’s skin. There is a lot of passion involved in the process.
After finishing, Jacob decided to lock up the store and head for the office, and the little kitchen to fix up a sandwich.
He was just about to open the little fridge when his nose picked up a really awful smell. It was horrible, the scent of a decaying corpse, or road kill.
He opened the back door to create a vacuum to let the smell fade, but it appeared that it was coming from inside the shop. He went in front to check the store in case something was left on some counter by some customer or by his boss. He searched everywhere and he could not find the origin of that ungodly smell.
After not finding anything, he went back to his sandwich. “Funny…” he said, “I thought I left the back door open!”
He shut the door, and moved towards the kitchen counter. His mouth was watering over that poorly made turkey and lettuce sandwich when a shriek was heard from behind him, making him drop the bagel to the floor.
In front of him the strange shape he has been looking for stood in full flesh right at the office entrance.
Jacob went for a wrench he had next to the chopping board. Before he could blink his hand was stayed by an iron grip, pressing his wrist veins hard on the counter.
“What the fuck are you????” He exclaimed in horror!
The stranger stepped back, and looked at him in bewilderment.
Jacob was speechless as he watched the strange form in front of him remove the cloak that was covering its figure. Beneath the black cape was a fully fledged German officer of the second World War.
He looked at the man and didn’t know what to say or how to move, if any expression was appropriate for such a sight.
The stranger, threw on the floor the cape, and turned his eyes on Jacob. He extended a handshake, unlike the common Sig Hail, one would expect from a Nazi officer.
Jacob was taken aback by this gesture and remained firmly with his back against the counter.
Then the stranger, picked up a chair on his right, cleaned it with a silk handkerchief, and sat down in front of Jacob. He made a sign for Jacob to sit down as well. Jacob, with his pupils being dilated for the past 2 minutes continuously, started to tear.
He slowly moved sideways to the back of the desk in the office and sat down in the office chair, which seemed like an elephant has been using it for shitting on it. The smell was even worse than that of the strange figure in front of Jacob.
The stranger turned towards him slowly, revealing his decomposing features to stunt Jacob.
“Why do you hunt me?” the stranger said, in a manner as if an animal, was asking the hunter before the final kill, why it is being hunted and killed.

3L3V3N and seven
Jacob stared at the figure sitting in front of him, and could not believe his eyes. Nothing could have prepared him for that kind of shock.
“Why do I hunt you?” Jacob said, infuriated by the question. “You killed my sister you sick fuck! You took away everything I’ve ever really loved, you took away everything….” He started sobbing and reaching for his gun at the same time.
“Before you kill me” the stranger said, “you must know everything.
The stranger stood up and took off his coat. A stench of decay filled the room as if he was infested by death. He sat down again, and reached in his jacket pocket. He took out a photograph, an old black and white photograph with wrinkled edges, and placed it on the desk.
Jacob felt relaxed and decided to lean forward so as to look at the picture in front of him.
“Who is she?” he said.
“She was my wife! She was my dancer.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died…” the stranger said, leaving a prolonged sigh, that echoed in the room.
“Why did you kill my sister?”
“Your sister, and all the other girls….forgive me….I think about it and it always shakes the very foundations of me…Your sister was part of a ritual that would assist me in bringing back my wife to life. You see….”
Jacob interrupted the stranger’s sentence by hitting him in the face.
The stranger did not even flinch. Jacob’s hand on the other hand, was bleeding profoundly, as if he broke every bone in his hand.
“What the hell are you?” he asked in agony.
“I…I am a man….No I am a monster…I am a monster that loved it’s wife very much. I would do anything for her, I promised that to her the day she died. I made a promise, which up to now I have been keeping to the letter. But now things have changed. Things are different.”
“What do you mean?” Jacob asked.
The stranger stood up and moved by the window, a move that made Jacob jumpy.
“Don’t worry, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done so long time ago. Sit down and listen to a story…Please.”
Jacob felt alarmingly relaxed and sat in the office chair again.
“I will tell you why I had to become the monster you now see. I will tell you why I became what I am, and what kind of Hell I have been through. You will know everything and at the end you will decide to kill me or not. If you choose to do so, I will even show how to end my suffering; ordinary means are no good. Many people tried. One by one, they all failed. Please listen, and be patient. At the end you will decide.”
Jacob looked at the man, and did not know what to feel. On one hand, he felt hatred, anger, and an immense drive to cut the stranger up in pieces, and on the other hand, he wanted to listen and understand.
Sometimes before the kill, the hunter takes a few seconds to appreciate the animal right before he squeezes the trigger. It’s a ritual that places the hunter in the place of the pray, and it assists to realize, that no matter the pray, one must appreciate the ferocity, the beauty and the valor of the animal, especially right before it dies. It is being said that although young Bengal tigers are very dangerous, old tigers, when faced with the fact of dying they become ten times more aggressive.
Jacob now was in a tight spot. He had to listen. He had to choose whether to kill the man right there and then, or listen to the story.
He listened…