by Allan Burd
“Nice,” says Cooper. “We have mysterious benefactors giving us permission slips to come here and take on evil. All the better for everyone.”
“Only if you succeed,” gripes Baecker. “Better is oft times the enemy of good enough. Our stratagem against this malevolence has proven effective. If you leave now, the status quo is maintained and the danger remains at bay. Once you enter, the fate of my country, perhaps all of civilization rests in your hands. Have you considered the possibility of what happens if you fail? I have. I actually pondered the idea of shooting your plane out of the sky.”
Baecker says it so matter-of-factly, as if our lives mean nothing, it irks Cooper to the point where he gets in Baecker’s face and snarls. “Here I thought we were going to be friends. Want to take a chance and go for your knife?”
“Settle down, Cooper,” I say. “Look at it from his point of view. Our being here puts him in a difficult position. One unbeknownst to us upon our arrival.”
“Grrrr….” Cooper growls but backs off.
“Brigadier General, I’m sure over the years you’ve also pondered laying waste to the entire area. But you didn’t. Your strategy worked so far because you trusted these people, whoever they are. Trust them now. Trust me.”
He’s rubbing his neck, glaring at Cooper who doesn’t flinch an inch under his stare. “That is the only reason all of you are still alive,” says Baecker.
Chapter 14
Baecker returns to the table, rolls up the map. “You have twenty-four hours. We are using that time to isolate the site in preparation of any possible worst-case scenario. Miguel, your presence has been requested by members of our Parliament whom I’m told require your council.” He hands Miguel an envelope. “The tavern you will meet them at, along with your hotel accommodations are inside. The jeep on the left is for you.” Then he hands me an envelope. “Silas, I’m told what’s in this envelope is for your eyes only. These are specific instructions. You are to follow them to the letter.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” I say.
“You’ll like the sound of this,” replies Baecker. “Do you see that sports car at the hangar’s edge? That is for you to go wherever the instructions in that envelope tells you to go.” He points to a sleek blue Ferrari California T.
“That I can live with,” I say.
“What do I get?” says Cooper.
“Goats,” answers Baecker. “You will be escorted to a designated region within the Odenwald forest. You are to spend the night there with—no offense—others closer to your nature. However, you are not to prey upon them. My men introduced a tribe of goats to that region for you to hunt and feed. A dozen of them. I trust they will prove adequate entertainment for you as I trust you will remain within the boundaries we set. Is that agreeable to you, Herr Cooper?”
“Any beer?” asks Cooper. I give him a ‘cut the shit’ look then he tells Baecker, “I’ll make do.”
“Everything is in order then,” says Baecker.
“Wunderbar,” I say. I walk a few feet away from everyone, open up my envelope. Inside is a business card. There’s a logo on it, the silhouette of a beautiful woman in a favorable position. It reads Ms. Tickles written in a sexy script. Beneath that is an address. Women and sports cars. Everything looks in order to me. “You have the keys to this fine vehicle?”
“There are no keys. A computer chip controls the starter and that’s in the cup holder beneath the dash.”
“Perfect,” I look to Cooper. “Have fun dancing with goats.” I turn toward Miguel. “Have fun dancing with politicians. Coop got the much better end of that deal if you ask me.” I glance at Baecker. “Thanks for the wheels. I’ll return them tomorrow good as new.”
I vault into the convertible without opening the door. I program the address on the card into the navigation system then gun the engine leaving skid marks behind. Looks to me like the night before I cause or prevent the apocalypse, I’m going to get laid.
Chapter 15
I’m on the Autobahn, top down, a brisk wind brushing through my brown hair. The car’s fully loaded with gadgets I couldn’t care less about. All that counts is the speed and handling. I thrust the pedal to the metal, listen to the engine purr like a kitten and dart between two Porsches. I swerve into the left lane and accelerate this magnificent piece of engineering to 225 kph. It handles like a dream. I haven’t ridden anything this responsive since Jezabella, an evil gypsy bitch that tried to slay me right after she fucked my brains out. I almost came and went at the same time. Yet, despite her murderous tendencies, I could never get her out of mind. I’m still totally smitten with her and the truth is, if it were possible, I’d bed her again and take the risk.
Images of her rush my mind; brunette hair flowing weightlessly around her symmetrical cheek bones, exotic hazel eyes radiating power and passion, velvety lips curling with want that occasionally formed a pout with a hint of vulnerability. Every one of her curves even more enticing than the ones I’m racing on now. Despite the stab wound she gave me, I wish I hadn’t killed her. She was the gold standard. I don’t think I’ll ever meet another like her.
I pass a Lamborghini. The driver throws me a disapproving glance cause I‘m going far faster than the recommended speed. I remind him with my middle finger that we’re in a derestricted zone. He points ahead to a BMW I’m approaching far too quickly, reminding me my head’s in the clouds and I’m being an asshole. I slam on the brakes, avoiding a nasty collision, and slow down enough to nod my apology.
I resume a more reasonable speed and return my thoughts to current business. Baecker’s story has me concerned about what lurks within the castle. Frankenstein’s Monster alone isn’t enough to cause a worldwide calamity. It has to be something larger in scope, and I find myself agreeing with Cooper’s theory that it’s something demonic. I only hope between the three of us we’ll be enough to handle it. I pass a car with a Rottweiler staring at me through the window. It makes me wonder how much fun it would have been if Cooper were with me, hanging his head out the window, his wolf tongue flapping in the breeze. He would have scared the shit out of anyone who saw us. We would have drawn a lot of unwanted attention, but the looks on people’s faces would’ve been priceless. Maybe next time.
A couple of hours later, I decelerate off an exit ramp and cruise my way through a ritzy residential neighborhood along cobblestone streets to my destination. It’s a large house protected by a decorative brick wall and an iron gate. I pull into the driveway and say my name into a speaker, smiling wide for the perched security camera. Seconds later, the wrought iron slides back letting me in. A short drive leads up to a mansion. I park the car and stroll down a long pathway that separates a garden bed and an immaculately mowed lawn. Ms. Tickles, whoever she is, lives well. A brass knob shaped like a broom adorns the front door. I’m about to use it to knock when the door mysteriously opens itself. The entrance is dimly lit, gloomy. The hallway looks old, dusty, contrasting the outside of the house. It’s not at all what I expected.
“Welcome,” a seductive female voice calls out. It sounds familiar. A shadow slips quietly across the floor. “Please, come in,” says the silhouette.
“Thank you,” I reply, cautiously stepping forward across a patterned marbled floor.
Dozens of candles simultaneously burst with flame, illuminating the vestibule. The dust vanishes with the light. What was old appears new. Stylish paneling and classic artwork decorates the walls. The foyer extends to dual doorways. A beautiful woman leans against the arch. Her brunette hair lay softly upon her slender face. Her green eyes size me up greedily. Her shape is wholly enticing. I gulp, taken aback by her incredible beauty. It’s Jezabella. And she looks exactly the way she did the moment before I killed her.
Chapter 16
It’s impossible. I can’t be seeing what I think I am. Jezabella steps into a shadow as she approaches. But the woman who emerges from the shadow isn’t her. She’s different, shorter, a hint of auburn in her hair. He
r eyes are green. Her curves are milder. Whoever this woman is, she’s as beautiful as Jezabella but it’s not her. My mind must have been playing tricks on me, my imagination running wild with thoughts of encountering her again.
“I’m Eliza Grace Tickles,” she says, extending a slender hand.
“I’m—”
She doesn’t wait for me to finish. “Silas Hill. I’ve been expecting you. Welcome to my domicile.” Her accent isn’t German. There’s a hint of Lithuanian in it, similar to Jezabella’s.
“Thank you,” I say. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to…,” I decide it best not to pursue that line of query and push any further thoughts of Jezabella out of my head, “…never mind. I’m charmed. You’re not what I expected.”
“I’m everything you hoped you’d find here and better.”
I blush. “You’re forward. So, why am I here?”
She peers into my eyes, as if searching for my story. In turn, I search for hers. I see someone delighted I find her appearance pleasing—who wouldn’t—but there’s a mix of mischief in there. Mayhap something sinister but I can’t get a good read.
“You’re paranoid,” she says.
“I’m in a paranoid inducing line of work. How about you? Your business card didn’t exactly specify your area of expertise.”
She inches closer to me, her finger caresses my shoulder. “It did. You are here for what you think you are… and more.”
Once again her directness throws me off kilter. She’s hypnotic, impossible to resist. My heart races. I feel woozy.
“You cannot anticipate what exceeds the bounds of your anticipation,” she says.
Every word that rolls of her tongue is seductively sexy. My thoughts feel sluggish. I try to shake it off. “You’re very cryptic. Are we talking about the same thing?”
“You must learn to open your mind,” she says, ignoring my question.
I’m completely mesmerized. My eyes feel heavy but I can’t take them off of her. I realize we’re in another room, one I don’t remember entering. This one is sparse. Odd colored lights shine down from the ceiling. They make my head spin. There’s a table with a sheet over it in the center. A set of drawers bump up next to it. A portrait of an aged woman hangs on the wall.
“How did we get here? What kind of room is this? Are we alone?”
She presses a finger to my lips. “There is another. She’s preparing something special for you. She’ll be with us shortly.”
My pulse quickens. I’m about to blurt something else out, but her mouth touches mine, her lips the definition of bliss. She kisses me deeply and I pass out.
When I awaken, my wrists and ankles are strapped firmly to the table. Not the fantasy I had in mind. Eliza is at my side, holding my hand. I squeeze her delicate fingers in my grip and bend them back.
“If you don’t untie me right now, I will break them,” I say.
Her fingers melt from my grasp as she easily slips free. “You have a weakness for beautiful women.”
I struggle with my bonds for a moment to no avail. “I find it hard to believe you invited me here to kill me.”
“There is no danger here, Silas. The restraints were for your protection. We only need you immobile a moment more. Then we will release you.”
We? I tilt my head up and see a hideous looking old woman with straggly grays, the same woman from the portrait only older. Her back is hunched. In her hand, she holds an odd-shaped sterling silver object that looks like a four-pronged tuning fork. She taps it with a bone then leans over me. That’s when I notice the pentagram implanted in my bare chest, a purple-hued gem in its center.
“Gaaah,” I scream involuntarily. “What is that?”
Eliza reassuringly squeezes my hand. “It’s a necessity. A must have for what is to come.”
“And what’s that?”
The witch woman comes over, sprinkles spherical beads over my chest that magically appear from her fingertips. They spin symmetrically around the pentagram then pierce my skin at each of the five angles without causing me any pain at all. She grins at me—not a comforting gesture—places her palm on my forehead. Then, silently, she leaves.
“It is done,” says Eliza. She releases my bound left ankle. “As I promised. May I continue to free your arms without concern that you will harm me?”
She’s so alluring it puts me at ease. “Why do I get the impression I couldn’t harm you if I tried?”
She frees my other ankle. Then she straddles me, sliding her arms toward the straps that hold my wrists while simultaneously rubbing her incredible body against me.
“Is this the part where you hypnotize me into unconsciousness again?”
“Not immediately,” she replies, as she unbinds my right wrist.
“You’re right about my weakness, especially since you’re so charmingly disarming.”
Fearlessly, she frees my other arm. I repeatedly bend my wrist until the circulation returns to normal. I could get her off me three different ways—at least I think I can—but frankly I’m okay being in this position. She’s so enticing, she could probably stab my through the heart and I’d still lie here submissively.
“What are you?” I ask, clearly suspecting she’s more than human.
“Anything you want me to be,” she answers. Her features shift and suddenly I’m staring at Jezabella again. I jump, but she pins my wrists to the table. “I read wants. I see desire. She is your greatest one, yet you become unnerved every time you see her.” She morphs back into Eliza. “Though this form is unfamiliar to you, you find it more comfortable and equally as pleasing. I find that fascinating.”
“You’re a succubus,” I say. “You hypnotize men by becoming their fantasy then, through sex, you suck the souls out of their bodies. One kiss from you rendered me unconscious. You could easily have murdered me in my sleep. Why am I still alive?”
“Because not all of us are evil,” she answers.
“That’s a good thing. So, I’m here so you could implant something in my chest?”
“What thing in your chest?” she says.
I look down and it’s gone. “You’re clouding my mind again.”
“Only a little,” she teases. “You need to remember to trust your friends, even when they don’t trust themselves,” she adds, getting closer.
“I can do that.”
She presses up against me. “And I need to run a test.”
She kisses me again. It’s amazing. I know this won’t end well for me, but I don’t resist.
“Did I pass?” I ask, when I come up for air.
She disrobes. “The test is just beginning.”
She kisses me again. I feel hazy, but don’t care. We spend what feels like hours making love. She switches back and forth between Jezabella and Eliza, which seems to invigorate me just when I think I’m out of energy. It’s the most amazing experience of my life.
“Three minutes,” she says.
“What? Three minutes? That’s all.”
“When the time comes, remember you will only have three minutes.”
She touches my head. I fall back, passing out from sheer exhaustion. I awaken who knows how many hours later on a hard cobblestone road with a heck of a hangover. I’m fully dressed. Dawn is breaking. Everything that happened last night is a vague haze. I stand to regain my bearings and puke all over the sidewalk. When I done heaving, I peer in every direction, unable to figure out if I’m even in the same place. I see I’m on the correct street but the mansion I was in has vanished, replaced by two tudor style homes and an open yard. At least my car is parked next to me even though I’m positive I left it in a driveway that no longer exists.
I don’t understand what’s happening at all. I even question if everything that happened wasn’t a massive hallucination. It seems impossible, but there’s no other logical explanation for it. Either way, I’m content to let my experience fall somewhere between a pleasant dream and a mystery for another time. I hop into the Ferrari, start i
t, double check the last address programmed into the Navigation System. The car no longer recognizes the address I once typed in.
Fuck it. The sex was amazing, even if it was just in my head. I can come back later if I want to investigate this new mystery, but Baecker, Cooper, and Miguel are expecting me back in Odenwald, which is why I came to Germany in the first place. I shift into drive, veer the sports car back onto the road, and ride off.
Chapter 17
Despite my misadventure, I feel well rested and clear headed. I shift into fourth once I hit the Autobahn and kick loose. Pa would have liked this. To kill time, I give him a call. It’s twilight back home. I catch him at a good time. We talk for a few minutes before the connection drops on the international call, but apparently he had no idea I ever made my way to Dengfeng or traveled to the temple of Rongpu Li. I thought that was strange, as Miguel seemed to infer he mentioned my whereabouts.
A few hours later, I rendezvous with Baecker, Miguel, and Cooper at the hangar. They look as well rested as I do. Cooper is wearing a necklace of goat horns. Miguel’s wearing fatigues beneath his clergy collar. Baecker’s wearing his usual scowl. We greet and make some boring small talk then Baecker drives us into the hills of Odenwald in a run-of-the-mill jeep. It doesn’t handle half as well as the Ferrari. The ride is uneven and uncomfortable, and once we veer off the main road at a secretly marked location we get jostled about like popcorn kernels through a pathless route that leads deep into the woods. Finally, we reach a well-camouflaged outpost beneath a canopy of trees. Two armed men slip out of the first of a series of tents to greet us. Both of them instinctively draw their weapons upon seeing Cooper leap from the back seat.