by Paul Eksteen
I was jerked from my silly thoughts by the satanist’s booming voice:
“We are the Star.” It was a deep and resonant voice that echoed through the empty building.
“We are the Star,” the others responded.
“We are the chosen ones.”
The disciples stood with their hands upraised, chanting the same words.
Armin walked around the table and lit the two candles. He then turned the Coleman lamps completely down. The moon was full and the light from the candles made their shadows look ghostly.
The ring of followers clutched their hands until tears came to their eyes. Eyes that were fixed on their Leader and the altar.
From one pocket of his gown, he removed a rolled piece of something like a scroll. It was a piece of dried vellum which he had made himself from the skin of a young cat, not reaching maturity yet, as was the protocol. He unrolled the vellum and put it on the table. He placed the silver saucer on top of the vellum to keep it flat.
From another pocket he retrieved a highly polished brass vial. It almost looked like the oil bottle of a Lee Enfield rifle I thought. This he held up in front of him.
“I have visited our Holy Brother in prison this week and obtained this vial of his Sacred Blood,” his voice boomed out.
The others were chanting what I presumed must be ethereal ancient incantations and were moving closer to the altar in a semicircle.
“The Holy ritual of Destruction was performed to perfection. This ritual has uplifted our Brother to the next level of eternal Joy in life.”
With these words, Armin opened the vial of Quinten’s blood and poured it into the silver saucer. He then moved the saucer aside and dipped his right index finger in the blood. By using his index finger, he traced the five-pointed star onto the vellum, whilst mumbling incantations which were repeated by the five disciples.
Armin was waving the vellum over the altar whilst the disciples went down on their knees and touched their heads to the ground, all the time repeating incantations after him.
“We are the Star.” Armin broke the spell and they all rose to their feet again.
He then held the vellum over one of the candles and it immediately burst into flames. He held the burning cat skin over the silver saucer and let the ashes fall onto the smear of dried blood left behind in it. After the vellum burned out, he tapped the ashes together and powdered it with the brass vial.
Next, he took the dagger from where it was displayed on the silk cloth and made a cut in the palm of his left hand. He then held the dagger out to the first one of the disciples who followed his example and passed the dagger on to the next disciple.
When all of them had cut their hands, Armin took the dagger and placed it back on the silk cloth. He then took a pinch of ashes from the silver saucer and carefully placed it in the cupped palm of his left hand. Again, he was imitated by the others.
“Transformation requires sacrifice,” his voice boomed. “Tonight, we shall share in the sacrifice of one of our brothers.”
And with this, he started licking the pooled blood mixed with the ashes from his left hand.
“We are the chosen ones,” they all replied and followed in the blood licking ritual.
“Do not forget,” Armin’s voice boomed. “Without blood, there is no sacrifice!”
Everyone started chanting again and dropped to their knees. Armin used the silk cloth and the purified water from the malachite bowl to clean the dagger, catching the water from the cloth in the silver goblet. He replaced the dagger in the box and raised the goblet.
“Wet your lips and be brothers as one. Tonight, we celebrate in the Glory of one Brother. Next time we shall sacrifice to strengthen our personal eternal Joy. Wet your lips and go in peace.”
Again, the disciples lined up in front of the altar. Armin wetted his lips with the bloody water and passed the goblet along. They finished their ritual and filed past me again. All except Armin. He was sitting in front of the altar in what seemed to be a trance.
The others took off their robes and were leaving the building, putting the duffel bags in the back of the Jetta on their way out. I sighed with relief. The young boy, who arrived with Armin, left with the rest of the disciples. The information in the SSA file was correct. Seems like Armin usually stayed behind on his own to summon demons or do whatever they did in their cult.
As the gate closed behind the last of the disciples, I started finalising my plan. I did, actually, have some sort of a plan — and it might just work.
***
East Rand Casino
Koert Meyer was happy with his performance. It was the second stop on his country-wide tour, and his fans went crazy. Especially the girls. He was walking backstage to his dressing room and his mind was already on the entertainment which was to follow. Was it going to be the local town kindergarten teacher, or maybe the high school girls’ hockey captain?
The fact that he was ‘happily married’, never deterred him from sowing his wild seeds all over the country.
His tour included non-profitable venues such as Secunda, Nelspruit, Warmbaths and Rustenburg. He added a special concert in a casino in the East Rand after the Secunda concert was overbooked the previous weekend.
The tour was to promote his CDs and keep the record company happy, and then also to make some young schoolgirls happy as well. He released another chart topper in January and promoting it in the small towns was proving to be very rewarding.
Marc Robinson was a high pressure die-caster from Springs. His grade twelve daughter was unable to get tickets for the Koert Meyer Concert in Secunda but was first in the queue for tickets to the special concert in the East Rand.
Now Marc, his daughter and her boyfriend were walking around to the exit door of the stage to have her Koert Meyer T-shirt signed. Her boyfriend was clearly irritated by his girlfriend but had no option but to tag along.
An hour later, his daughter happy with her signed shirt, Marc saw Koert Meyer sneaking away with two very young girls, towards the residential side of the hotel.
Being the opportunist that he was, Marc decided to investigate. He dropped his daughter and her boyfriend off at one of the restaurants in the hotel with some of her other friends and walked in the direction in which Koert Meyer had disappeared. There were suites in clusters on ground level for VIP guests and this was where he was heading.
Giggling from the one cluster with its own secluded swimming pool made him walk in that direction until he was stopped by a guard. “No entry for unauthorised people,” he was told. Bingo! This was where he wanted to be…
He turned around and walked to his car in the parking area of the casino. He was always ready for an opportunity such as this with the tools of his trade packed in a bulky ‘pilot’s case in the trunk of his car.
***
Elardus Park, Pretoria
I waited another five minutes to make sure that no one came back to the building, and then crawled closer to Armin. By this time, he was hunched over forward with his hands flat on the ground and his head resting on them. He was murmuring something and seemed to be in a complete trance.
I was wearing thin latex gloves and was armed with a wooden mallet and my 9mm pistol. I was not planning on leaving any traces of myself at the scene or on the victim.
My heart rate picked up and the ends of the fingers of my right hand started to tingle. After effects of the shot through the bicep I thought. “Breathe,” I told myself. In slowly and deeply through the nose, hold for five seconds, and slowly out through my mouth. Just as I’d been taught years ago.
I sneaked right up to Mr Dernwill and gave him my best shot to the back of the head with the wooden mallet. He slumped forward and sideways without making a sound.
Now to unleash the devil in me.
I rolled Armin onto his back and stretched his arms and legs out to form a snow angel right in front of the altar. Snow angel or the devil’s five-pointed star? Let the newspapers decide on that one on Mo
nday. With the lack of snow in Pretoria, it was probably going to be the latter.
I next took the dagger from the wooden box and positioned the tip of the blade on his chest where his heart should be. Two strokes with the mallet and the dagger was driven up to the hilt in his chest.
Nic would be proud of me. I had done my job flawlessly. It was time for me to get back home.
I moved back to the column and placed the mallet in my rucksack. Still wearing the latex gloves, I started moving through the building to the north-western corner of the site. The idea was to use a different exit than the one I used as an entrance to make my escape.
As I stepped out of the building, I sensed a sudden movement to my left. My reflexes took over as I ducked and raised my left arm simultaneously. Something struck the side of my head and made my legs buckle. The next moment my head struck some loose rubble as I went down like a slaughtered pig.
***
Vivo, Limpopo
Retha Botha was walking up and down her kitchen on the farm, wringing a once-wet dishcloth in her hands. Her eyes were red and swollen. “What is he thinking, not answering his phone? I’ve been calling him since two this afternoon. Hendrik, don’t just sit there, talk to me!”
Her husband was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking his fourth cup of coffee. “Retha, there must be a reason. Relax now. There is nothing he can do, anyway.”
“He can answer his bloody phone. That is what he can do! Danielle is worried sick, and Karlien too. And don’t tell me to relax!” she shrieked.
“Yes, and now you have spoiled Kwinzee’s weekend as well. Stop it now, or you will have everyone running around like chickens with their heads chopped off.”
“Poor Danielle. Luckily Karlien went to the hostel to collect her. What is Tom thinking? He’s got responsibilities, you know.”
Hendrik was getting fed up with the whining of his wife. If it was not for the gruesome events which happened earlier that day, he would have gone to bed long ago. Now he had to sit and hear his wife out.
He also needed time to grasp what exactly happened on their neighbour’s farm. This was a first for the area. The rest of the country has been hit with over a thousand farm murders in the past ten years, but Vivo was lucky so far.
Was this the beginning of more murders to follow? He would have to relook at his security measures. These things can happen very easily if you are not prepared.
“I am going to phone Kwinzee again, Hendrik. You know that he has been able to get hold of Tom in the past, when we were unable to.”
Hendrik stood up from the kitchen table. “No Retha, you are not. I am going to fix you a whisky and milk, and then we are both going to lie down.”
***
East Rand Casino
Marc retrieved a video camera equipped with a directional microphone from the bag. He was dressed in blue jeans and sneakers, and he added a dark polo neck pullover to complete his outfit. Not ideal, but the best he could do under the circumstances.
His camera and microphone were packed in a small camera bag, and he left the parking area with the bag slung over his shoulder. He walked to the far end of the parking area, closest to the VIP suites, and then circled around in the lush hotel garden to where he hoped to find Koert Meyer.
It didn’t take him long to hear the splashing from Koert’s swimming pool. He crawled through cycads and ferns until he reached a wire mesh fence. This he followed until he could catch a glimpse of what was playing off in the swimming pool.
He retrieved the video camera and directional microphone from the bag and set it up on its own little tripod. With the microphone switched on, he switched the camera to record and started making a video recording.
Koert Meyer was having fun. And lots of it. He and two girls were playing with a ball in the swimming pool, passing it around with one of the three trying to get hold of it. Koert was dressed in a baseball cap, and that was it. It seemed like the girls were dressed in Koert Meyer T-shirts only.
Marc was grinding on his teeth. These girls were very much the same age as his daughter. His daughter who was still in secondary school. His daughter who begged him to bring her to the concert tonight. His baby girl who asked this scumbag to sign her Koert Meyer T-shirt.
Koert was going for the ball now but did not put too much effort into his endeavours. He was more interested in getting hold of the girls, especially the one who had better developed breasts than the other one.
The video camera was recording all the time. Marc flinched when he zoomed the camera in on Koert as he was standing at the side of the pool, facing towards him and dressed only in the baseball cap. He was busy opening a bottle of champagne.
Koert uncorked the bottle and joined the girls in the pool, passing the bottle to the two girls. He had his arms around the hips of the two girls whilst they were pouring champagne into his mouth.
“Time to shower,” Koert demanded as they emptied the bottle. He pulled the two girls out of the pool by their hands and led them into his suite.
Marc let the video camera roll for another few minutes after the trio left the pool and moved towards the suite. He could now see that the girls were dressed in T-shirts as well as their G-strings.
A few moments later, Marc could hear water running from a shower. He had stopped the recording and realised that what he had would not be enough. But it was impossible to get closer to the suite without being detected by the security.
He was still deciding on what to do next, when the sliding door to the suite burst open and one of the girls raced out. He was just in time to press the record button before Koert raced out of the sliding door. The girl was completely naked now and in tears. Koert was dressed only in a condom at this time.
“Come back, silly!” Koert exclaimed. “We are just starting to have fun.”
“I wanna go now,” she sobbed. She was the one with the bigger breasts, and Koert’s number one choice.
He grabbed her by the hand and started dragging her back into the suite.
“Leave me alone,” she was getting hysterical now. “Help, someone, please help!” she shouted.
Marc had everything on tape and decided to call it a day. He removed his mobile phone from his pocket and phoned the hotel reception. It was the only number he had for the hotel.
By the time he got through to reception, Koert had already dragged the girl back into the suite and had slammed the sliding door shut behind them.
Marc reported the screams and disturbance to reception and sneaked back through the garden to the parking area.
He was very happy with a good night’s work.
***
Elardus Park, Pretoria
My ears were filled by a high-pitched, wordless screech. I had fallen face down into some loose building rubble and could feel the hard edges of bricks and dried mortar under my body.
My head was spinning as I turned to figure out where the screeching noise came from. As my eyes started to focus, I could make out a dark figure, storming in for the kill, armed with a piece of rebar.
I rolled over as my attacker swung the piece of metal bar, and luckily this time the rebar struck the rucksack on my back and not flesh. My left arm felt broken, but my fast reflexes probably saved my life. A direct hit to the head would have killed me.
I was still dazed from the glancing blow to my head, but my instinct already guided me to either fight or flight, and as the figure rushed in closer for the third time, I was ready for him.
I identified the figure as the young black boy. Luckily for me he was very inexperienced at this kind of thing. He made the mistake of rushing in too close to my body, to land a final blow to my head. This gave me the opportunity to kick his feet from under him.
He landed heavily on his back and I was on him in a flash, pinning his arms down and landing a crushing head butt directly on his nose. I could hear the bone shatter and feel the warm blood spraying in my face. The crazy kid was still screeching non-stop and was now spitting bloo
d as well.
I let go of his arms and hit him as hard as I could on the left temple with my right fist. That did the trick as his body slumped down, unconscious. The shock of the blow went right up into my bicep and I grimaced from pain.
I laid still for a moment to catch my breath and to let most of the pain subside, and then slowly got up. Really, I was getting too old for this shit. Ten years ago I wouldn’t have been caught flat-footed like this. I could feel blood on my neck and my ribs were hurting like hell. The top of my left ear was burning and as I felt it, my hand came away bloody. My left forearm was still numb, and my right bicep was burning, but at least it didn’t feel like anything was broken.
Now to tidy this lot up. Fuck! This wasn’t necessary.
I almost kicked the unconscious boy. Moron! Now I will have to make him part of the ‘sacrifice’.
I removed my rucksack and cleaned myself up as much as I could with a piece of mutton cloth. I didn’t want any of my blood on the boy. I wiped most of the blood from his face, and then carried him inside and placed him next to Armin.
The latex glove on my right hand was torn, so I used my left hand to hold the dagger in place in Armin’s chest while I wrapped the boy’s hands around the hilt. I made sure that some of the boy’s blood smeared on Armin and also to get some of Armin’s blood on the boy.
I looked around and found half a brick. I smeared the brick with the boy’s blood and placed it next to Armin. I then carried the boy outside the building through the entrance gate, where I propped him up against the outside of the corrugated fence.
He might wake up here, or if I was lucky, someone would see him lying there and report it to the police. The fact that he saw my face doesn’t really bother me. He will have enough explaining to do, as is.
I rushed back to my rucksack and poured some dust over our fight area. There was some blood on the ground which I scooped up and placed in a plastic ziplock bag in my rucksack. I strew some fine sand over the battle zone and added some loose rubble to neutralise the scene.