Post by Timeon on Oct 15, 2014 15:21:18 GMT
- "Follow Hitler! He will dance, but it is I who have called the tune. We have given him the 'means of communication' with Them. Do not mourn for me; I shall have influenced history more than any other German." -Dietrich Eckart, Hitler's mentor, in a letter to a friend shortly before his sudden death
Tristan Heydrich of the innermost circles of the Gestapo adjusted his cap and gloves, like a doctor before surgery, and waltzed inside the prison cell to finish the day's work. Half of a man crouched in a circle of light, his other half hidden in darkness. His head rested between his knees. The man's breathing came wet and ragged, and he made no move to acknowledge Tristan's presence.
"I heard you had a confession to make, degenerate. To me, personally."
The prisoner's head lifted, revealing eyes glittering in the half light. His breathing grew quicker, more erratic.
"I have had a dream, Herr Heydrich."
A weight shifted upon Tristan, pressing him to the soles of his boots. The man's twinkling eyes were upon him.
Tristan took a sudden step forward, fist clenched.
"Tell me what you called me here to say."
"I know you think I am crazy, Herr Heydrich." the man mourned with a faint whine. Then he broke into a brief coughing fit. Wiping the corner of his mouth, his eyes returned to Tristan with the same vulgar intensity, little pale moons hovering in the dim light. "But if you did not think I am truly had something important to say, you would not be here, is that not so?"
Tristan allowed himself a smile.
"I will give you the benefit of the doubt."
This brought a solemn silence, for a time.
"Yes." the man said. Then he began. "In the beginning there was Light, Herr Tristan. Your Bible tells you this, does it not? But then came the Fall. Lucifer, the Morning Star. The brightest of Lights, turned blinding and painful in his intensity and pride. And Lucifer fell. Was it not so?"
"That is what the Bible says. But I am not sure that I believe in God." Tristan admitted with a shrug.
"Oh, you would be wise not to, Herr Heydrich. But there always seems to be some truth to every story." the man chuckled in his misery. Then he snapped back to reality, his voice clear. "There was Light in the beginning, but it was tainted. The gnostic myths tell this story. Once all was Good, but it was invaded. Are you with me, Herr Heydrich?"
Tristan said nothing. He studied the madman, teeth clenched. There had been a crackdown on esoteric societies in Germany since Herr Hitler had come to power. People like this had been locked away, or shot, and their books burned. Their ideas were poisonous. Perhaps it was like the Albigensian Crusade in France, which had happened so long ago. The heretics had been cut down before their poisonous ideas could truly upset the order of things. Tristan had studied history and theology. It was why he was here now - why he had been chosen to do this job. Always there had been a tradition of sodomites, lesser men and freaks walking into Europe from the East with their blabber, infecting the masses. It had been the same with the Jews. The Freemasons, the Jews, the occultists, the gnostics, they were all part of the same cancer, upsetting tradition and family. Now was the time to eliminate them all.
The man was closer now, though Tristan had not watched him approach.
"I had a dream, Herr Heydrich. The sun was blotted out. An eclipse. But this time the moon did not move away from the sun. The light and dark met as one. And the world turned to watch, and stare, and think, and marvel. And then, one by one, people began to wake up, to remember where they had come from. For there was once Light, Herr Heydrich. True Light. And the time is coming for a great battle. A war. To change everything. The forces of Light will clash with Sin."
Tristan felt a clammy hand close around his ankle. The man was below him now, eyes still shining with a hidden fire. He felt very alone, and considered calling out to the guards outside, though he felt they were a world away now, and could never hear him if he did.
"There will be war in Europe, yes..." Tristan managed. "Our land-"
"No, not war between men." the man hissed. "Such things are irrelevant. A distraction. An intentional distraction, perhaps. No, Herr Heydrich. We are all being watched. They want us to purge one another, so that none will be left to interfere with them when They come. We are the Sin upon the world. We let Lucifer whisper to us. But there is hope for us. Hope for us to rejoin the world of the Light. To go home. To be cleansed."
"Why did you call me here?" Tristan asked, suddenly uncertain why he had bothered to drive three hours to answer this madman's request to see him. There had been no good reason, really. It had been an impulse, at best.
"To give you a chance to see the Light for yourself. You are being watched, Herr Heydrich. You have spent your life searching for something. There is a void within you, which you have tried to fill your entire existence. You have tried to fill it with money, or love, or sex, or power. But still you hunger. The imperfection is your Sin. But the Light is coming back. You have to pick your side. When the conflagration comes, we must save as many souls as possible."
"I'll do whatever you ask of me." Tristan said, falling to his knees. He began to weep, in great heaving sobs. Oh, it was true. He had been watched his whole life. It was fast becoming clear now. At the corner of his vision, at every moment of doubt and discomfort, he sometimes noticed, ever so slightly, that They were there. They wanted to help him, but he had never let them. Now he would let Them help him. He wanted to join the Light, and escape the prison. All he had ever wanted was to go home.
The man leaned over and kissed him, sticking a cold tongue into Tristan's mouth.
"I love you." the man whinnied between stolen breaths.
Tristan accepted the gift with ferocious hunger. When finally he pulled away, he felt something cold in his hand. He looked down, seeing and feeling that a bauble now rested there.
"What must I do?"
"Walk out of here, pretending I have told you nothing. Past the guards, and outside of this building. Get into your car and drive north. As far north as you can go, and then board a ship. When you doubt, you have merely to look over your shoulder, Tristan, without using your eyes. Face Them. You must let Them guide you home. Go, Tristan. Take the relic to the Utmost Land."
Tristan Heydrich of the innermost circles of the Gestapo adjusted his cap and gloves, like a doctor before surgery, and waltzed inside the prison cell to finish the day's work. Half of a man crouched in a circle of light, his other half hidden in darkness. His head rested between his knees. The man's breathing came wet and ragged, and he made no move to acknowledge Tristan's presence.
"I heard you had a confession to make, degenerate. To me, personally."
The prisoner's head lifted, revealing eyes glittering in the half light. His breathing grew quicker, more erratic.
"I have had a dream, Herr Heydrich."
A weight shifted upon Tristan, pressing him to the soles of his boots. The man's twinkling eyes were upon him.
Tristan took a sudden step forward, fist clenched.
"Tell me what you called me here to say."
"I know you think I am crazy, Herr Heydrich." the man mourned with a faint whine. Then he broke into a brief coughing fit. Wiping the corner of his mouth, his eyes returned to Tristan with the same vulgar intensity, little pale moons hovering in the dim light. "But if you did not think I am truly had something important to say, you would not be here, is that not so?"
Tristan allowed himself a smile.
"I will give you the benefit of the doubt."
This brought a solemn silence, for a time.
"Yes." the man said. Then he began. "In the beginning there was Light, Herr Tristan. Your Bible tells you this, does it not? But then came the Fall. Lucifer, the Morning Star. The brightest of Lights, turned blinding and painful in his intensity and pride. And Lucifer fell. Was it not so?"
"That is what the Bible says. But I am not sure that I believe in God." Tristan admitted with a shrug.
"Oh, you would be wise not to, Herr Heydrich. But there always seems to be some truth to every story." the man chuckled in his misery. Then he snapped back to reality, his voice clear. "There was Light in the beginning, but it was tainted. The gnostic myths tell this story. Once all was Good, but it was invaded. Are you with me, Herr Heydrich?"
Tristan said nothing. He studied the madman, teeth clenched. There had been a crackdown on esoteric societies in Germany since Herr Hitler had come to power. People like this had been locked away, or shot, and their books burned. Their ideas were poisonous. Perhaps it was like the Albigensian Crusade in France, which had happened so long ago. The heretics had been cut down before their poisonous ideas could truly upset the order of things. Tristan had studied history and theology. It was why he was here now - why he had been chosen to do this job. Always there had been a tradition of sodomites, lesser men and freaks walking into Europe from the East with their blabber, infecting the masses. It had been the same with the Jews. The Freemasons, the Jews, the occultists, the gnostics, they were all part of the same cancer, upsetting tradition and family. Now was the time to eliminate them all.
The man was closer now, though Tristan had not watched him approach.
"I had a dream, Herr Heydrich. The sun was blotted out. An eclipse. But this time the moon did not move away from the sun. The light and dark met as one. And the world turned to watch, and stare, and think, and marvel. And then, one by one, people began to wake up, to remember where they had come from. For there was once Light, Herr Heydrich. True Light. And the time is coming for a great battle. A war. To change everything. The forces of Light will clash with Sin."
Tristan felt a clammy hand close around his ankle. The man was below him now, eyes still shining with a hidden fire. He felt very alone, and considered calling out to the guards outside, though he felt they were a world away now, and could never hear him if he did.
"There will be war in Europe, yes..." Tristan managed. "Our land-"
"No, not war between men." the man hissed. "Such things are irrelevant. A distraction. An intentional distraction, perhaps. No, Herr Heydrich. We are all being watched. They want us to purge one another, so that none will be left to interfere with them when They come. We are the Sin upon the world. We let Lucifer whisper to us. But there is hope for us. Hope for us to rejoin the world of the Light. To go home. To be cleansed."
"Why did you call me here?" Tristan asked, suddenly uncertain why he had bothered to drive three hours to answer this madman's request to see him. There had been no good reason, really. It had been an impulse, at best.
"To give you a chance to see the Light for yourself. You are being watched, Herr Heydrich. You have spent your life searching for something. There is a void within you, which you have tried to fill your entire existence. You have tried to fill it with money, or love, or sex, or power. But still you hunger. The imperfection is your Sin. But the Light is coming back. You have to pick your side. When the conflagration comes, we must save as many souls as possible."
"I'll do whatever you ask of me." Tristan said, falling to his knees. He began to weep, in great heaving sobs. Oh, it was true. He had been watched his whole life. It was fast becoming clear now. At the corner of his vision, at every moment of doubt and discomfort, he sometimes noticed, ever so slightly, that They were there. They wanted to help him, but he had never let them. Now he would let Them help him. He wanted to join the Light, and escape the prison. All he had ever wanted was to go home.
The man leaned over and kissed him, sticking a cold tongue into Tristan's mouth.
"I love you." the man whinnied between stolen breaths.
Tristan accepted the gift with ferocious hunger. When finally he pulled away, he felt something cold in his hand. He looked down, seeing and feeling that a bauble now rested there.
"What must I do?"
"Walk out of here, pretending I have told you nothing. Past the guards, and outside of this building. Get into your car and drive north. As far north as you can go, and then board a ship. When you doubt, you have merely to look over your shoulder, Tristan, without using your eyes. Face Them. You must let Them guide you home. Go, Tristan. Take the relic to the Utmost Land."