Lars had been a man of action. He’d possessed a quick mind, to be sure, but he was a solider first and foremost. When in doubt, he shot things. Vulthar was much more silent and observant. He knew his role in the great tapestry of things. He was a follower of Darhoth’s and knew when to keep his mouth shut. But there was no doubt of the evil intelligence that brewed behind his narrowed eyes. He exuded malevolence and whenever he spoke to a human being, his tone was full of disdain. It was like he was being forced to deal with creatures that were less than cockroaches to him and Dieter wondered, ultimately, if that was the way Darhoth and all of her ilk felt, as well.
Dieter cleared his throat and Vulthar looked up in annoyance. His fingers were dripping with calf’s blood, which he had been using to draw a pentagram on the floor.
Vulthar had traded in Lars’ military uniform in favor of a set of long green robes that were cinched around his waist by a rope belt. As he stood up, he pulled the belt tighter and Dieter winced. It was visibly digging into the flesh and had to be quite painful. Perhaps, he mused, that was intentional on Vulthar’s part.
“What is it, Herr Schneider?” Vulthar asked. His tone suggested that he would not be pleased if Dieter’s response lacked urgency.
“The volunteers are being processed now.” Dieter shuffled his feet. “I know that you wanted several of them for your own work but I have to ask, are they going to be harmed? If they’re killed or maimed, I need to know how to handle that beforehand.”
“You’re still thinking about things the way they were before.”
“What do you mean?”
“The world’s changed.” Vulthar stepped towards Dieter and patted him on the cheek, leaving a bloody hand print. “Forget about your old views of morality. All of those people outside this room, none of them matter. They’re just walking sacks of meat and blood. We can use them up as we see fit. Our masters were here long before your civilization and they will be here long after. Keep that in perspective.”
“Yes but we’re still subject to the rule of the Füehrer, at least for now. If we upset them, they can kill us and that would disrupt Darhoth’s plans.”
Vulthar grunted and turned away. “Very well. Yes, I will probably break a few of the people you bring me today. We have to make blood sacrifices, you see? It’s not enough to kill a calf. In order to make the spell truly sing, I have to have something richer than that. I need human souls in torment. So, yes, they will be maimed and killed. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
Dieter nodded and left the room, knowing that Vulthar had lost interest in him. He strode down the hall and found the group of twenty or so volunteers being examined by the OFP’s top scientists. Each of the men was shirtless and blood was being drawn, with physical measurements taken. The women were hidden behind a curtain and being similarly checked out. Most of the volunteers were among the most poor of the city, the dregs who needed to sell their bodies to get enough money to feed themselves or their children.
Today, however, had also brought in three men who were in much better shape than usual. In fact, one of them—a gypsy, Dieter suspected—was as fit as Lars had been before Vulthar’s assumption of power.
Dieter informed one of the doctors that he wanted those three brought to Vulthar. He detected disappointment in the physician’s face and he didn’t blame him. Such healthy specimens would have been a boon to the experiments here but Vulthar would want the strongest for himself. The weaker the body, the weaker the soul, he had said.
That brought up thoughts of his daughter, his lovely, sweet Sonya. Her soul must have been very strong, for she was certainly strong of body and spirit.
Clenching a fist, Dieter pushed away all thoughts of rebellion. He was a coward at heart and he simply had to accept that his only hope for survival lay in being agreeable to all the demands of his new masters.
* * *
The Peregrine wasn’t surprised when he was pulled aside with Andre and Morgan. Despite their attempts to look rougher than normal, they still stood out like sore thumbs. There was only so much that a bit of dirt smeared on the cheeks could accomplish. They still looked much healthier than the poor souls who stood beside them in line.
The question was: were they being separated because there was something special in mind for them or had their deception been uncovered?
Each of them was allowed to put their shirts and coats back on. Max quickly checked to make sure that his weapons were in place. All three men had been surprised by how lax the security had been on the way in. Beyond the most cursory of pat-downs, none of them had been searched. Max assumed that here in the heart of Berlin, the Nazis felt relatively safe. As a resort, Max’s small arsenal of weapons lay within his jacket, protected from sight in the many hidden pockets that lined the interior of the garment.
The three men were led down a long hallway and each of them tried to catch a glimpse into the various rooms that they passed. They saw a plethora of odd things, though each was only briefly seen: an old man being outfitted with a harness that featured large feathered wings; a suit of steel being fitted to a lovely young woman; a nude androgynous figure with an elongated skull and misshapen bones; and a table upon which two teen-aged twin girls were strapped down. The girls had been holding hands and one of them had been crying as a scientist approached with a large syringe in one hand.
Morgan felt bile rising in his throat. He knew what the mission was but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to leave with all this still going on. Surely they’d have the time to burn the place to the ground, but even if they did, the Nazis would only start again someplace new. His earlier words about killing Hitler rose once more to the forefront of his thoughts. He understood The Peregrine’s point about not wanting to cause more trouble for America but Hitler was a nut, even if a lot of people back home didn’t want to admit it yet. Something had to be done and why couldn’t guys like Lazarus or The Peregrine be the ones to do it? Hell, with Catalyst onboard, they’d be able to get in and out without ever being seen!
His musings were interrupted as they entered a large room that was mostly empty. On the floor a blood-smeared pentagram had been drawn and the artist stood nearby, looking like some sort of mad monk. Though Morgan didn’t know Lars or Vulthar from Adam, he definitely recognized the danger that the man posed. Standing nearby was an older male—an academic, Morgan figured. This guy looked fearful and his eyes continually darted about the room, as if he was afraid that something was going to jump out and get him.
The scientist who had led them to this room hurriedly backed out and locked the door behind him.
The older man cleared his throat and smiled. “My name is Dieter Schneider and this is…”
When the pause became somewhat awkward, the robed figure spoke up. “You may call me Vulthar.”
Dieter nodded. “Vulthar. The three of you were chosen to help us with a very important project. You seem very healthy and that is good. We need strong, vital men for this. It is of the utmost importance to The Füehrer.” He suddenly looked troubled and asked, “Do any of you have families? Children?”
Max answered for the group. “None of us do. I’m married but my friends are not.”
“Good!” Dieter seemed relieved. “So. The first thing I need for all of you to do is to strip down. Completely naked.”
Andre gestured to the pentagram on the floor. “What is this, Herr Schneider? I thought we were here for a scientific experiment?”
“The blending of science and what we once thought of as magic is a strange thing,” Dieter admitted. “Now, please, do as I have asked.”
Andre glanced at The Peregrine, wanting to know what they should do. Max made it abundantly clear by quickly reaching into his coat and pulling out a pistol. Morgan did the same while Andre raised both hands, allowing a soft golden light to surround him. His false appearance faded away, leaving him revealed not only for his ethnic heritage but as the Catalyst, cloaked in emerald.
The Peregrine pointed his pistol at Vulthar, having recognized him as the true threat. Likewise, Catalyst directed his open palms in that same direction, ready to unleash a magic blast at a moment’s notice.
Morgan, meanwhile, hurried over to Dieter and seized the man before he could sound any kind of alarm.
“We want answers,” The Peregrine said. “Where’s The Mother of Pus? What’s her plan? And how do you boys figure into it?”
Vulthar laughed coldly. “I have to say, Herr Schneider, I do not think much of the security of The Reich.” He stepped into the middle of the pentagram and said, “I need sacrifices, gentleman. Three of them will do, particularly if they’re strong ones, as you have revealed yourselves to be. Whether you surrender willingly or I have to do this by force matters not.”
The Peregrine frowned. He needed information and he quickly realized that Vulthar wasn’t going to give it. Their best bet lay with the professor. Hopefully, he knew enough to be truly helpful. “Andre,” he hissed. “Let’s kill this guy.”
Catalyst wasn’t upset by that command in the least. “Your wish is my command,” he said.
Suddenly the room was lit up not only by Catalyst’s blast of magical force but by a similar one that shot forth from Vulthar. The beams of energy slammed into one another and shook the building to its foundation. The glow of energy could be seen through the windows, alerting Samantha across the street that something was happening.
The Peregrine put away his gun and drew forth The Knife of Elohim, a mystical blade that had been dipped in the blood of Christ. This caused the weapon to glow in the presence of evil and to do extra damage to those whose souls were steeped in sin.
It was now glowing so powerfully that it was almost blinding.
Gritting his teeth, The Peregrine jumped forward into the pentagram, willing to take the battle directly to his enemy.
* * *
Dieter resisted the urge to bolt and run. Though he’d come to realize his cowardice in recent days, he knew it would not be wise to abandon his post at Vulthar’s side.
Instead, he fumbled for a pistol that he knew was kept in a nearby drawer. Security in the Reich sometimes meant that you had to be prepared for anything and that often meant that even men of science kept armed weapons at easy reach. He had just yanked open the drawer and started to place his fingers around the hilt of the gun when Morgan barreled into him with shoulder lowered.
The impact sent Dieter to the floor and knocked the air from his lungs. He wheezed for a few seconds before looking up into Morgan’s angry face. The American held Dieter’s gun now and he brandished it with obvious familiarity.
“A Mauser?” Morgan muttered. “Nice.” He leaned forward and seized Dieter’s collar, yanking him closer. “I have the feeling that you might have answers to a whole lot of our questions. Am I right?”
“It’s hopeless,” Dieter hissed. “You obviously have no idea what’s really going on here!”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Morgan drew back his hand and slammed the butt of the Mauser into Dieter’s temple. With a groan, the scientist passed out, his eyes rolling up into his skull.
* * *
Andre had to admit that The Peregrine had guts. There he was, locked in mortal combat with a man obviously possessed by some sort of elder power and all he was armed with was his wits and an enchanted blade. Oh, it was one of the fabled Knives of Elohim to be sure, but their greatest power came when united. Separate, they were capable of carving through most enemies with ease but against someone like Vulthar, it would not be enough.
As such, Catalyst was prepping a powerful spell that might save the day, assuming he got a clear enough shot at Vulthar to use it. The Peregrine was unintentionally making that very difficult.
Hearing the booted footsteps of armed men hurrying down the hallway, Catalyst whirled about and placed his hands upon the closed door. It glowed, strengthened by his magic. Now it would take quite a bit of effort on the part of anyone to get inside.
Catalyst turned back to the battle and saw Vulthar backhand The Peregrine with enough force to lift Max Davies off his feet. The masked hero landed with a grunt and barely dodged an energy blast that would have taken the flesh off his head.
Vulthar stepped back and unleashed a string of ancient words. He was casting some sort of spell; the one that would have required the use of sacrifices. Catalyst could only assume that the man was willing to gamble that he could pull off the spell without the life essences that he craved. And why not? If Vulthar was defeated, whatever he’d been trying to do would be thwarted regardless. Better to simply try it and hope for the best.
Catalyst surged forward, eager to stop this from happening, but he realized his mistake too late. As he entered the pentagram, Vulthar looked in his direction and grinned triumphantly. The villain had obviously decided that three sacrifices would not be needed at all, providing that there was a single one that would prove just as powerful.
Andre screamed as Vulthar opened his mouth wide and belched out a tremendous burst of magical fire. It engulfed The Catalyst and destroyed his physical shell, which had been kept animate all these years through his sheer force of will. Now that he was older and weaker, he was unable to protect himself from the attack.
And in one powerful instant, The Catalyst was destroyed and the spell took effect.
The pentagram started to glow and a high-pitched sound filled the air, making everyone flinch in sudden pain. All over Germany, animals reacted just as violently. The noise dug deep into their brains and spoke of something awful. Dogs barked, cats hissed, and horses kicked out at anything and everyone within reach.
But even worse, deep below the seas and mountains, dark things stirred. Glimmerings of consciousness began to form and limbs that had not moved for eons began to twitch. The more powerful the entity, the deeper in slumber it had been but their spawn, the quick and deadly babies that they had birthed along the way, were instantly awake and crawling towards the surface.