Imagine this…
How would you feel in a really stressing situation, such as the one I am about to describe? How would feel, if all your emotions hurled up inside your soul in an instance, making you choke?
How would you feel if you woke up in bathtub, filled with cold water, and you are chained by the hands and neck to the each side of the tub? And on of top of all, how would you feel if there is blood all over the bathroom floor? And it’s not yours?
That’s how, dear reader, my friend, my enemy, my lover, the story begins.
Every step of our lives we come across situations where we must rise above our own selves, put problems behind, and all other vices of the self, and face the problem head on. It doesn’t matter how fucked up your life is, or how many complexes you have, or if your boyfriend or girlfriend ditched you yesterday, or had a fight. And it doesn’t matter if you are the weird kid in school, or the jock, or the “A” student; sooner or later you will face a point in your life where everything else will be trivial, and insignificant, and pathetic, when faced with a situation that takes your breath away.
I know for a fact that most of you, would simply turn away, and face the other direction. I know for a fact, that your puny self would squeal in the presence of absolute horror and madness. I know for a fact that if you faced your worst nightmare you would fucking hide!
I know for a fact that you are as alone as I am. I know that you are nothing and everything at the same time. I know that you don’t give a shit about me, the same as I don’t give a shit about you…But I love you, and hate you, and I will cry for you, and laugh at you, and I will hold you lovingly, and bash your head in if I choose to…But that’s me…
Helena woke up in a bathroom sometime around noon, in a house, near the old vineyards by Fremont. The tiles and the floor where covered in blood. She was strapped in the tub by a series of handcuffs and chains. Her neck was tied to the tub battery by a long and rusty chain, whereas her hands where cuffed to the nickel railing at the sides of the tub.
At first she tried to move and free herself, but the chain acted as a noose, choking her within the slightest move.
With her peripheral vision she tried to recognize where she was. Nothing came to mind, especially when the entire room was covered in dark blood. But what caught her attention was this blank spot in on the wall. Unlike the rest of the room, it had something written on it. Something strange, both in English, and some other strange forms of language. The writing was also in blood, and at the end in had a form of signature, something also bizarre, for it was not a letter or a monogram, it was a symbol. The writing said:
“ By the earth and the sea, I who will not see, the dukes of sin
Shall call, and bring thee to thy fall.
And till your beating heart is broken apart, I will see to thee until you venture free.
Gorba tor, Hath Elusind, bequith tor Hart, Uriel blofelth torkpah!”
Helena did not understand a single thing. Her thoughts however, were abruptly interrupted, by the echo of footsteps outside the bathroom door.
The door opened with a crackling, thunder like bash, and a tall figure entered, sending shivers up Helena’s spine. The tall figure moved slowly towards Helena and stopped right in front of the tub.
“Are you ready child?”, the stranger asked her.
“What do you want from me, let me go!” Helena implored!
“Weist du, du bist tot, mein schones Fraulein!” the stranger said in German, in rather calm yet menacing voice.
Helena’s eyes in utter horror opened wide and saw clearly the stranger’s figure in the slight limelight created by the roof cracks. All this time, she heard only the voice, a dark and coarse brooding voice, yet now she was able to see the man’s characteristics.
As he was standing over her slightly staring at her with somewhat amazement, she could see that he was wearing a black, leather trench coat, leading all the way to his ankles. The coat bared the Sig runes of the Schutzstaffel, the SS of the Third Reich. His garments were all black all in the manner of the SS, with only penetrating difference, the Swastika insignia on the arm. His face however, was the one thing that totally captivated her, and stole the voice from her mouth.
His face was all scarred and seemed to be decaying. Stitches seem to hold together the badly misshapen face, or what seemed like a face. His eyes were black, and at that point Helena, reached the inescapable conclusion to her story: She was going to die there…
The man with a loud cry, enraged by some unknown force, started to unlock Helena’s shackles. His movement abrupt and violent caused abrasions on Helena’s body, and she could not do anything.
The stranger lifted her up, placed her over his shoulder like a stock pig and moved her to another room, she hadn’t seen so far. Violently he threw her on a surgical table, and tied her arms and legs. Helena screamed in the top of her lungs, but no one seemed to hear her.
“Es ist niemand fur Sie, mein Liebling!” the stranger said, in mocking manner.
As she tried to break free she noticed a lot of cables and some liquid nitrogen tanks next to the surgical table. She pressed her head forward to see clearly. Next to the table, was an upright cooling tank, with a glass door. Inside, was the body of a woman, dressed in a white night gown, floating endlessly within the liquid that contained her. Her beauty was something that could not be expressed in words. Only fairy tales spoke of such a beauty. Yet her face was sad, as if she knew something, or seen something that brought the vale of sadness upon her sweet face.
Helena, asked softly the stranger: “who was she?”
The man while sharpening a 12inch knife, stopped what he was doing, turned around and looked at Helena with an astonished look. He bent his head forward and answered slowly:
“She….she was my…wife…Clarissa. She was my light. God’s deceit took her from me…and now I am damned to live without her….alone….in this form.” Interrupted by the realization of his words, his face turned dark. “Now child, it is time. Time to end your suffering.”
His blade moved closer to Helena, making her scream, high pitched screams, that would deafen any man next to her. The stranger placed the knife over her exposed vagina, and penetrated her, just like a man would. The knife moved upwards tearing her flesh, like a knife through butter. Moving up and up and up until Helena’s voice could not be heard no more. The only thing that surely remained on her retina, according to some beliefs, was the blank image of the roof. Her eyes seemed to be breaking through the roof top cracks, past the building she was held captive, past the vineyards, over to a place when she was surely happy and secure.
Poor Helena, so young, so beautiful, so sad….

3L3V3N and two….
Six months since the incident have passed. Jacob was traveling down Richardson Avenue looking for a place to eat. Considering the crap that exist around town, a decent Chinese restaurant like Poe Chie’s was the best idea that he had all day long.
Jacob was working as a mechanic for quite some time now for a lowlife of a man called Chev. He said he was named after the Chevrolet cars. What a prick…
He was the type of man, who was pretty decent looking, but had a big idea of him self; a poseur so to speak. He always dressed in fine clothing and said he was a “ladies man”. What a bunch of happy horseshit. The man couldn’t love anyone. He loved his reflection in the mirror. He was the type of person I like to call, “waste of genetic material”. Still, some women, liked his faηade and went out with him. Poor women…if they only knew.
So, Jacob was working for this “man”, for quite some time now, and has been earning a pretty decent living, considering.
So here he is, trying to eat something at the only proper restaurant in town.
He sat down at the furthest corner away from the door, and the one closer to the TV. The waiter came around, and passed him the menu.
“Ok, lets see…a portion of spring rolls, some…huh…sweet and sour chicken, and a bottle of sake please!” he said to the waiter politely.
The TV was turned on, and some crappy Mexican soap opera was on, you know the type.
The waiter started to bring the dishes and the sake, quite fast, when all of a sudden, the soap opera changes to a news bulletin.
“We interrupt this program for a special announcement. A 25 year old girl was found late at night by Hudson River near the 5th overpass of the freeway. The woman, whose identity remains unknown, was cut open severely, from the genitals to her abdomen and neck area. Police are investigating the scene for evidence regarding this young woman’s death. However, some say that it is unlike that something will be found. Police commissioner Dreyfus in a public statement, issued a public warning for girls of that age, since it appears that a serial killer is on the loose. The woman found is victim number 4. For further updates, you may tune in on our website at www.kfgTV.com.”
Jacob’s stomach started to convulse rapidly. All this, all this pain, reminded him that his sister, Helena, has been found the same way.
He remembered that he went to the police numerous times regarding any leads on the case, and the response was always negative.
He remembered saying: “Why doesn’t anyone do something?”
Time though, passed quickly and the previous victims were easily forgotten. But not Jacob; he could not forget his beautiful innocent Helena.
He pushed aside his dinner and walked towards the counter. Took out a “ten”, paid the man and exit the restaurant.
His thoughts were on that news bulletin. How angry he felt, how he wished he could find the monster responsible, and make him pay.
Still what could he do? He was only a man.
He returned home. When he felt angry he often sat down on his typewriter and write poems and small stories. This is what he wrote that night:
“Into the depths of the Abyss I crawled my darling maiden,
To seek your face, and you were not there…
I cry for eternity, and have not found serenity
I seek only revenge, to my hearts end.”
Some people believe that small, powerless individuals, who have nor money or power, are weak. Yet they are strongest ones. They have nothing to lose, and they are prepared to go to the deepest dungeon of Hell, to grab Lucifer by the horns and make squeal like a poor little bitch. There are people who in their total love for someone would become monsters them selves.
Jacob now had but only one choice. He would have to go after the one responsible for his sister’s death, himself.
Where to begin though…
It’s not that easy, it’s not like the police will offer a helping hand. And there’s nobody else to turn to.
Jacob new that if he were to go after the monster himself, he would need help from very low places. And that meant getting dirty.

                3L3V3N and three
It was eleven o’clock when Jacob got out his Chevy Chevelle. Went around, opened the trunk, and pulled out a black sports bag.
He went up to his house and went into the bathroom. He opened the bag and took out a 12 inch machete, a Colt 0.5 and a small switchblade.
Someone might say that these are hardly the equipment that one would need for a manhunt, but still, that was all that Jacob could muster in such short period of time.
Now all that he needed was to go out and ask around for information.

3L3V3N and four
Elise worked late at night at the hospital. Graveyard shift. Same old crap one might say when you’re a 25 year old nurse who just started her practice.
She was by far the best looking nurse in her ward at the St. Mathew’s Hospital. One might say that she escaped from some renaissance book; long dark hair, luscious eyes, a smile that would take your breath away, and a dressed to kill attitude, even with the uniform.
She was always assigned to some old man, who was grumpy, and wouldn’t take his medicine and had a sweet tooth for young chicks. Dirty old bastards…
Still, she didn’t mind. She preferred working with the elderly. Like she always said: “It’s not like everyone else is bad, but old people need us, even sometimes they are a bit horny for their age.”
Elise was sitting at her counter by the reception hall of the elderly wing of the hospital. The wing was dark, except from the reception and the halls, which were lit by the emergency lights.
She was browsing through a Harper’s Bazaar, when the phone rung. The display said it was from east wing.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hello? Is anyone there? Thomasson, if it is you, I am not going out with you and that’s final!”
“Hello?”
She hung up the phone and went back to her magazine. The fax phone started to ring. She leaned over, and pressed the “accept” button on the fax machine.
Blank page
Blank page and the same and the same.
“Something must be broken inside the machine!” She thought.
She stood up and opened the fax machine’s lid, and looked inside.
The fax’s phone rung again, startling her. She made two steps back and placed her hand over her heart.
Still blank paper came out of the machine. She did the only thing that came to her mind at the moment: unhooking the machine from the plug. After doing so, she placed it back as it was.
10 minutes past, without any interference from the fax machine. Then all of a sudden, the machine’s phone rung once again. She leaned over to see. Blank page all over again.
Then thinking that something is totally weird she decided to go do her rounds around the wing.
Usually a task like this takes about 10 to 12 minutes, but she did it in less than 10.
When she sat at her desk, a strange detail caught her attention. All the blank papers, that she stacked neatly by her side had a strange symbol on them. Something that was not there previously.
“What the Hell?” She said, while looking closely at the strange symbol.
Suddenly, coming from the corridor a noise that resembled a dog whistle became evident in her ears. She turned her head towards the direction of the sound’s origin. Then out of the blue the noise became more intense. This time it was ear deafening.
Glasses shattered, windows, computer screens, everything in a matter of seconds was destroyed.
She got up, and went around the desk she was sitting at and looked around the wing to see about the damage.
Strangely enough, everything was in place, nothing was broken, not the windows, not the vending machine’s protective glass, not even the ICU’s machinery.
She thought she was going crazy. She decided to go back to her desk.
“Maybe I dozed off, maybe it was only a bad dream.” She thought.
She was walking slowly backwards around the curb of her desk while looking towards the wing’s corridor, when she felt that someone was behind her.
She turned around slowly, her heart pounding within her chest so fast, it seemed to want to break free off her ribcage.
Only a small teardrop fell from her eyes. Not a scream, not a cry, nothing. She fell inside the embrace of the shape behind her.
“I have found you again” the strange figure said in bad English.
“Sie sind tot mine schones Fraulein”
“What do you want from me?” Elise implored her captor.
“Only what you wish to give me.” The voice said slowly.
Elise was never seen again at the hospital.
6 months people from the hospital, administration, family and friends looked for her, and not a trace.
Still one day, a young man came to see the Hospital’s manager.
“Good day, I am from the Sheriff’s office. My name is Jacob Brown. I have some questions about a missing person?”
“Yes, but the police have already been here more than a few times, but nothing was brought to my attention regarding any leads to the disappearance of Elise Donner, the junior staff nurse.”
“Well yes…there are a few leads to the case. It has been taken out of the cold files. Unfortunately, I have to bother you for a few minutes with some routine questions. Would that be alright?”
“That’s OK. Please step into my office…”