"Untitled"

I look over my desk and will find papers piled over one another. Nothing is organized, and no matter how many times I can try to organize my documents, everything gets mixed up again. I have locked myself in my study just so I can get everything in file. The countless nights, and the agonizing minutes of intense perspiration as I tried to figure out which document went next in order. Sometimes I think my madness in this task is ordained by Divine providence.
It all started when I had finally compiled all of my studies and was going to begin to record all of the evidence I gathered. Everything was in file, from the first reports from five years ago, to Lockwood’s journal entries from earlier in the decade. As I laid everything out on my desk the window blew open as the great Northeastern of ‘39 sent squalls of wind bursting against my Cap Cod seaside residence. One gust busted my study window open send all of the papers across the room.
In the days following, I tried to gather everything. I fear the winds may have carried the most vital accounts I gathered. I have now since stood before a desk full of these papers. Both accounts are scattered, some of the ink from the entries has faded away making identification even more difficult. I have now begun to feel as though God does not want man to know about Olitiau.


However, I was able to completely salvage the Lockwood accounts, they are as follows:


JOURNAL OF WILLIAM M. LOCKWOOD

COMPILATION OF MARCH 1932 ENTRIES

PRINTED AND RECORDED BY JOHN. A. HASCHENBACH

UNIVERSITY OF TENNESSSEE



12, MARCH 1932



I have never been in such a detrimental state of existence in my entire life. Dr. Meade believes I have a form of clinical depression, but I think the man’s full of it. All he wants to do is to make a quick buck. Meanwhile, my own mother and sister treat me like some animal penned up in a zoo. They approach me with caution acting as though I might bite. I really hate putting up with that. What I hate even more is the city, the people, the talking. The meaningless chatter of feeble people who think of nothing but radio programs and clothing fashions. All of those whores who parade up and down third avenue showing off their new Paris dresses and smirking with their white gloves and feathered hats, while millions of Americans starve across the country.
I can take a deep breath of relief now, as of this point, our train has officially left the city limits. We are currently stationed at Newark switching locomotives. I can already see the towering factories and ports of Jersey City growing smaller. It’s really a great privilege to be outside of the city. What’s even better is to be surrounded by the company of southern people. I know we haven’t even crossed the Mason-Dixie line yet, but this train seems to hold a preview for what awaits me. The kind and “live and let live” attitude unique only to people of the south.
As I sit here writing as a large green locomotive backs into our train, I can only think of my meeting with Dr. Meade yesterday. He said I needed some time away to cope with my stress. “A visit to the mountains down south,” he suggested. I remember taking my hat and coat and leaving the session only declaring that I was going to take his offer. I’m thinking about staying, maybe I won’t return. I will have to continue writing later, it’s difficult to write when the train is in motion.


13, MARCH 1932

The train arrived at Winston-Salem yesterday. I already noticed how nice the weather is down here when compared to the north. There is a bigger difference between Virginia and North Carolina. Virginia is stabbed with coal mines and factories, and North Carolina looks no different from the time when Calhoun once walked around these parts.
I hoped to come back, but I continued on my journey west to Knoxville. I received information to privately charter a flight by a local service to cross the Smokey Mountains. Instead, I was directed to the office of the Seaboard Railroad where I was offered a ride aboard a freight train carrying two passenger coaches at the end. I know it wasn’t traveling in style. But, I think it helped me to get closer to the people.
There were maybe only fifteen passengers in total aboard the train, but everyone seemed to get along with each other. Complete strangers learning to enjoy each other’s company, that’s what makes me love this region so much. Our train was traveling at a slow thirty miles an hour, the winds from the mountains made the coaches sway, but we still learned to get along. I lied to them, saying I was from Cumberland. I didn’t want to come off as a Cosmopolitan.
We talked about all sorts of affairs, including the upcoming election, and our disdain for “Herbie” as they call the president. One man in the back glared at us in an odd manner. Out of all of the passengers, he was the most disheveled, with a short beard, and the must ruggedly-shaped face I had ever seen. I am not sure if sub-human is the best way to describe him, but he didn’t seem that bright at first glance. As the train swayed and shook, he stood still, watching the rest of the passengers engaging in conversation. What I found most odd was the sound of the whistle’s high-pitched whistle startled him. It was loud, but he looked as though something was bothering him.
As the afternoon turned into dusk, an overcast sky hung overhead. Our locomotive thundered as it began to climb up-grade. I looked back at the man at the back of the coach. It looked as though he was staring at me. I thought he might have been mentally ill, perhaps his mother took narcotics during child birth. But, my mind was beginning to make notions that made my back shiver. It was of no advantage to look outside the window to see the growing mountain fog enveloping the peaks. He still continues to stare at me, as our train continues to climb into the foothills of the southern Appalachians. I can see that our train is now traveling into the fog. There’s something about this region that is different than our industrialized North. I fell it goes beyond saying it’s more relaxed, there seems to be bigger things at hand.


14, MARCH 1932

I woke up to the sudden slamming of the train brakes as I saw an envelope of steam swarm alongside the carriage sidings. I looked up to see a station sign reading, “Knoxville.” Our train pulled into the Louisville and Nashville freight yards, since our train was not a major passenger train. As I disembarked the train, a man came from behind and put his arm on my shoulder. It was Dr. Brit, whom I had conversed with yesterday. He was adamant about my liking of Southern-hospitality and the laid-back atmosphere. He told me about taking a motor coach to Sevierville, a few miles east.
He gave me directions and times of travel, intuiting that I was going to travel to world-class resort in the mountains. When I arrived at the hotel where I was told to wait for the transportation there, all I found was a hunched over man. He didn’t look a day under sixty, he swiveled a large brown pipe in his mouth, and his face seemed to have a foul look. I didn’t need to move close to him to find out if he smelled. He didn’t notice my presence until after he felt comfortable enough to scratch his crotch in public. When I asked about the transportation to Sevierville, he slowly turned at me, while continuing to scratch his genatalia, looking at me as though I had a tarantula on my face. He nearly stood cold staring at me directly in the eye.
I waited for a response form him, he moved his hand to signal for me to get aboard the wagon. I didn’t want to ask any question, I thought this situation was only a minor “step-off” for what awaited me. Dr. Brit had told me about a resort for people who wanted to retreat away from civilization. He said it was called “Spring Cove,” situated atop the summits in the Smokey Mountains. I think it sounds like a great idea, and a few days there in the cabin with no one to bother me sounded like a good idea. Even better was the opportunity to rent a firearm, I am going to get my own food. No drug stores, restaurants, or dives to cater to me.
I sat as the wagon bumped, and the horse limped making its way out of the Knoxville city limits. Every now and then our horse, which I presumed was a male, grew rapacious at the sight of the other, presumably, female horses on the solid mud pathways. A lone automobile occasionally passed our wagon by. At this point, the man still did not introduce himself, even though he grew vicious when he asked for my identity and references. I never felt more impatient in my life.
After five hours, we arrived along a small settlement situated along the banks of Douglas Lake. There were five cabins, one of which I reserved, and where I am currently residing. The man came up to me, informing me that I was to board a barge that was going to arrive early the next morning. After telling me this, he remained by my side. I did not want to see the sight of him anymore, after that speechless, agonizing ride from Knoxville. But, he decided to ask me where I came from. He became extremely curious, and asked what I did for a living, and I told him everything about my work with Dr. Lehmann in the expeditions to Peru.
I suppose it’s uncommon for an average citizen to come across an archaeologist who graduated with the highest honors from the University of Illinois. I told him everything about what I had studied in Chitzen Itza, Machu Pichu, and my latest trips to the deserts of Peru, where we found some in-earth rock fortresses. As much as I was pleased to explain everything to his lowly man, I was unable to avoid that horrible memory that put me in my unstable mindset. Every time I think about it, I always assure myself I could have done nothing to prevent it, but the image always returns to my head. The rainy morning in New Rochelle, where I walked outside finding a damp paper at my doorstep with the headlines about the disappearance of the airship “Italia.”
I had repeatedly told Dr. Lehmann to abstain from embarking on that voyage. I knew a venture to the North pole was dangerous, especially aboard a semi-rigid Airship filled with hydrogen gas. But, that fiend John Herot had filled his mind with spiritual, occult jargon. Somehow, he felt there was something in the north pole, at first I saw it as an important archaeological excavation. But, then I felt Lehmann was pursuing a ghost, something not real, something made of legends and superstitions.
Then, came the day when the news arrived about the rescue of the trapped crew in the North Pole. The majority of the men were accounted for, except for a Dr. Fritz Lehmann who was declared “missing.” No body, no traces of his existence. Now, I was all alone, without a partner to share my enthusiasm for my work. I guess, this is a confession, of my feelings about the affair. It hasn’t left my head ever since it revisited my thoughts while I explained to the wagon man about my past life.
The air is thin up here, the fog returned floating above the rim of the lake. Now, I am alone again. Tomorrow the barge will arrive, and I will finally be able to make my way into “Spring Cove.” Perhaps, then, I will be able to find solace…

15, MARCH 1932

I cannot begin to speak about what transpired today. My heart continues to beat without rest. I can barely hold my pen in place with the sweat from my palms sliding into my grip. I feel it’s better to give a proper, and full account of what happened. I will start with this morning.
I traveled aboard the barge from Douglas Lake to Sevierville. As the morning sun rose above the high pikes, the fog began to lift like a spirit loosening its grip on the one which it posses. The sounds of whippoorwills began to fill my body with a sense of foreboding. I was moving deeper into a region where few civilized men pass through. As we neared the town limits I was appalled by the sights that met my eyes. Never had I seen such deprivation and poverty in a single town. This small stream of water appeared to be the only link to the rest of the world. There were no signs of railroads or electrical grids.
As I looked around, I was met with stares from the local citizens. I never felt more unwelcome in such a setting. Every face seemed to show a vast amount of aging. It was as though these people were stuck in a time period foreign to the present. The age of yeoman farmers living out in the back woods awaiting the progress of civilization to reach their town. Yet, this town seemed to have been forgotten all together. It laid surrounded by a fortress of mountains, and a wall of forests occupied by bears and poisonous insects.
A hawk screeched overhead as our barge slowly bumped into a small collection of boards acting as a pier. Everyone seemed to just be standing around wasting away. It was as though they were awaiting the coming of Jesus Christ himself, and nothing else was going to make them move one inch from where they were standing.
I grabbed my two suitcases and proceeded to the town square where I was supposed to go to the commerce building to get information about traveling to Spring Cove. At the square was a desolate silence as two man sat quietly on a wooden plank supported by two eroded grey bricks. They both stared at me, watching what I was going to do next, as they both licked the tips of their cigars taking small puffs.
I saw no one else around, I decided to approach them asking them about Spring Cove. When I came up to them, they remained still, until one of them declared that I wasn’t from around “these parts.” I reinforced his claim by explaining where I was from. When I stated Spring Cove as my destination, both men grew startled. One had dropped his cigar as his jaw dropped. I was curious as to what about Spring Cove bothered these men. One of them got up from the plank and stared at me in the eye for almost five minutes. Maybe it was less, but it felt as though a good amount of time had passed.
In a droll Southern accent, he asked me if I knew anything about the history of Spring cove. I obviously didn’t, but he went on rambling about the disappearance of certain travelers and tourists. I became rather bored with his rants when he delved into detail about the personal backgrounds of each person. However, my fascination grew when he explained the story of the Cherokee chief Sakatowatsoo. Supposedly, back in the days of early European settlement in the years before the American Revolution, a Cherokee Chief had grown alarmed with the expansion of the settlements. He went to seek help from the gods, and went on a long retreat into the wilderness.
According to the Native legend, he appealed to the help of a deity that promised his village protection from the expansion of European settlement. But, when the push of white settlement pushed the Cherokee peoples west from their territory, the deity had cast a dark shadow over the region forbidding prosperity to anyone who dared to build upon the land which belonged to the descendants of Sakatowatsoo.
Of course, me being the bastard of science and reasoning dismissed this tale as nothing more than a camp fire ghost story for Hollow’s eve. I asked about getting up north to Spring Cove, and renting a fire arm, and the men were gladly willing to aide me. I assumed nothing meant much to this town unless it came in the form of profit.
I walked with the two men as one led me into a building where a vast amount of weapons were stockpiled. I was given a shot gun declared to be powerful enough to murder an angry mother bear. The other man pulled up with a horse and bogey. I was escorted to the bogey and the man cracked the horse’s hide with a whip, and I was on my way to Spring cove.
The sullen atmosphere of the town seemed to drift away as I traveled up into the mountains with the other man slowly guiding the horse. I can’t remember if we traveled five, or eight miles, but the horse was called to a stop. The man came out and left my luggage by the side of the bogey. He told me I was continue my way along the rode. I was told to continue until I reached a path with a four percent grade and to follow the dirt path after that point. It was from there I would arrive in Spring cove.
I made my way through as I watched grey salamanders run off the road in fear of my presence. The heat of the region began to rise as I walked into the savannah forest. The humidity from the nearby creeks caused my hair to grow moist making my head heavier. I felt the light breeze of the mountain air as I watched large amounts of mist envelope the mountain tops.
I found the grade, it looked rather daunting to climb. I tried to climb it slowly, but as I took each step, it felt as though someone was trying to pull me back. I was on my hands and knees with my suit case dragged alongside. What was supposed to be a path of less then a few feet, felt like a mile long ordeal. I found the dirty path, I felt myself fall on the ground as my heart pounded. I felt as though someone had put fifty pound bricks on my back. Yet, I looked back, and the grade didn’t look as difficult of a climb as it felt.
I slowly made my way long the dirt path. Amazeningly, before my eyes were bamboo trees. I didn’t suspect to see such trees in these parts. I soon found myself in front of a sing that read “Spring Cove.” There, in a circle of gravel rocks, was a large cabin with two stories and deer antlers at the foot of the door. A large man came out from the cabin. He introduced himself as George Lang, a self-made entrepreneur. He told me about his plan to make Spring Cove a top resort for vacationers, and hopefully to but Sevierville on the map. He told me about the past of the settlement, and how his ancestors had attempted to build a settlement in the early colonial days, but the crops failed and the summers and winters were intolerable.
Lang went on to explain how he thought the scenic views of the locale would be appealing to tourists wanting to retreat from the city chaos. I explained my sitation, and he was pleased with my news of Dr. Brit suggesting this place to me. Apparently Dr. Brit had given Lang a grant to build five cabins for tourists to stay. I was given the key to the second completed cabin which included a stove, bed, and wash tub.
He took me up there were I saw the cabin. It was about five hundred feet away from the main grounds. I was shocked by this distance feeling a cabin closer to the main office would give tourists a better peace of mind. But, Lang declared that he wanted to give people the best views in the region. I did feel the views were fantastic, and from inside the small cabin it looked as though I was floating above the cabin. I hardly went inside, it was too beautiful to go inside. The sun began to come out from behind the mountain mists and clear blue sky was visible. I felt then at that moment that I finally found the solace I had desired. After the long train ride to North Carolina, and the long trip to Knoxville, and barge ride from Douglas Lake, everything seemed to be have been worth the while.
I didn’t go inside, nor did I take Lang’s offer to join him for dinner. I remained outside sighing as the sun dipped below the mountain tops. I decided now was the time for a smoke from my Tobacco pipe. I took a few small puffs, letting the leaves burn inside the bowl as the breeze died down. After a minute or so, there was no breeze, or any howl from the winds. It was quiet. The only sound audible was the sound of the burning tobacco leaves.
As I sat there, watching the smoke fly into the sky, I heard a faint brushing noise. I thought for a moment that it was a bear. I began to stretch my arms preparing to go inside to get my gun. As I turned around, I heard a loud cracking noise. I turned around and saw something coming out from the forest below. For a moment, I was unable to feel myself move. I held my arm shaking as the pipe dropped from my hands. I began to walk back from where I was standing. I still can feel tears swelling in my eyes as I recollect it, but I saw a humanoid figure coming form out of the first. I then saw two bright glowing eyes, almost fluorescent in appearance. I didn’t give it a second glance, I ran inside the cabin. I grabbed my gun, and ran to the corner. The moon was out, shinning bright enough to cast clear shadows. I remained in the dark so not to be seen. Whatever it was, it moved closer, still not clearly visible. But, it walked around. I watched this dark figure move around from the corner of the window. It appeared naked, but two dark shadows came from its back like a cloak, but I think they were wings of some sort. I then heard a shriek, almost like that of the locomotive that startled the man two days ago. Oh, dear God! Whatever was out there, I cannot calculate the horror such a being can inspire. Only seeing those shadows was enough to keep me still with my gun gripped in my arms. I bit my lips and grinded my teeth as my eyes remained wide opened waiting for this monster to burst open the door into my cabin. I cowered below the window, and heard a large swooping noise as a dark shadow went against the window and a loud bang was heard on the roof. I then saw a light coming from the main grounds. It was Lang, the fool. He called out for me, I hesitated to answer in fear of this creature. As Lang came closer, OH GOD! I cannot talk about it, I can feel the tears forming in my eyes again. Not since the disappearance of Lang have I ever felt more frightened. As that kind man called out my name once again, a man who only meant to make a few bucks, his call was followed by a shriek. I am positive it was his voice I moved closer to see what happened. There, hovering over a motionless human body was a dark bat-like creature. Ears, above the head, with two bright eyes, and what appeared to have a humanoid appearance. Even more horrifying to recall was the grin on this beast’s face. It was grinning, as the blood of Lang poured from its razor sharp teeth. I screamed, feeling myself fall back against the cabin floor. I ran for my gun as I heard the swooping noise and loud bang on the roof. The beast, was, and still is there, perched on the roof. This Hellish minion is waiting for me to leave the safety of my cabin. Like Lang, it wants to devour me. I can hear its deep breathing as it pants slowly, accompanied by what sounds like whispers of some dead language. I am writing this now as it remains on the roof. I do not know what time it is, but I fear I may be here until daylight, that is, if this creature will leave by daylight. I fear I may not make it alive back to civilization. My hour may be at hand. I cannot recount what I may have done to deserve such a torment. But, God please, Lord Almighty! SAVE ME!

I always felt this story was perhaps the most credible to the existence of Olitiau. Unlike the account from the 1935 Central American expedition, the witness disappeared never to be found again. Several things add up, including the legend of Sakatawatsoo’s pact with the Fiend of the forest who promised him that no one would ever disturb the land of his people. Yet, I cannot understand what truly happened to Lang. Unlike the 1935 account, someone was murdered by the beast. What’s even more puzzling is the fact that Lang was found to have been strangled, and not maimed to death as Lockwood described. What I find even more interesting is the police report of a body found at the bottom of a crevice near Spring Cove. Perhaps this is where the corpse of Lockwood resides. I will be able to piece more information of the Lockwood/Lehmann affair when I travel to Berlin in two weeks. Hopefully, then, I will finally understand with this being is, and what its purpose is on earth.

-Sincerely,
Dr. Hedrick Spiel
November 14, 1939.

PART I
DISCOVERY AND MISFORTUNE
Musical Accompaniment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GZgbt9sTcY

Since man learned to walk upright, he desired to advance himself. From the beginnings of civilization, man has advanced in technology and reasoning. Yet, in all of his achievements, man has desired immortality. Immortality from defeat, sickness, and legacy. Since the age of the pharaohs man sought intercession with the divine forces to gain overwhelming strength among his brethren.
He practiced sacrifial rituals, built great monuments to himself, and vanquished foes through brute force. Man desires to be one of the gods. Both Egypt, and Rome were controlled by men who considered themselves divine. But, with the arrival of Christianity in the Western World, man chose to take a different path of modesty and good will towards his neighbor.
With this new Christian worldview, many a men believed they may gain immortality in the kingdom of heaven by leading a good Christian life. However, the old Pagan faiths had a resurgence during the height of the Roman Catholic Church’s dominance.
A select few were not pleased with this new doctrine of immortality of the soul after death. They desired immortality on earth. The power to contain the power of the divine on earth. This idea was held in great esteem on the other side of the earth.
The civilizations of Maya and Aztec believed they were capable of attaining the powers of the gods. Ancient shamans believed they had the powers to communicate with the gods, and a select few, believed they could shake the earth. Like the European Pagan world, this civilization also fell to the force of Christianity. For many, it appeared as though God, or the gods, wanted humans to remain humble.
Humans need to be content with who they are, and lead lives of good will and tolerance of others. For we are all created by the same God. A God who cares for humanity, a God who wants humanity to remain modest and quit its struggle for earthly immortality.




I.

Musical Accompaniment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qNLQ2jDAkWo

As man became industrialized during the age of Enlightenment, small groups in the German kingdoms began to foster the old world pagan ideologies. The Thule society was created in Bavaria, where a select few welcomed the idea of Germans being the super race. Some believed in the ancient past there was once a race of super men. These super beings built an advanced civilization and excelled in the arts and sciences. It was widely believed that the civilization they inhabited was located in what is now Greenland and Iceland. This was enforced by the idea that once the arctic land masses were part of a greater land mass which connected northern Europe with the arctic.
Yet, somehow, a cataclysmic event brought ruin to this civilization. The major landmass was dissolved when the ice caps melted creating the North Atlantic along with the Bergen and Baltic seas. The refugees, who escaped the destruction, diverted in two directions. One group traveled east, presumable Tibet. The other party formed the Germanic peoples. Teutonics, Saxons, Norsemen, and the Romans all descended from these people.
The Germans in the Thule society believed they were the living descendents of this great race of people. Within their inner circles, they practiced strange rituals summoning the intercession of entities such as Odin and Jupiter. With the publication of Nietzsche’s “Uber Mansch,” the society, influenced by Madame Blavatsky, had the proper ideologies to build their group on a massive scale. Man was now capable of becoming God.
Richard Schlemming was one of Blavatsky’s avid pupils. He joined the society while at University at Breslau. He spoke with Blavatsky in her dying years and discussed her principles of Theosophy. Richard was fascinated with her concepts of the place of the Aryan man in the world spectrum. However he misunderstood her beliefs of the Aryan race. Madame Blavatsky believed the Aryan race was the root of all humanity existing throughout the earth. However, a new revival in Norse ideaologies in Germany influenced individuals like Schlemming to believe the Aryan race was the root of the Germanic people.
In the spring of 1887, the adolescent Richard had traveled to Osterrich to converse with Madame Blavatsky. She was in hiding from the authorities, in Milan she was pressed with charges of fraud and purgury, a harsh reaction to her radical writings. She was residing in a an abandoned chapel in the outskirts of Innsbruck. Richard found her with the help of a guide who was an avid follower of Blavatsky.
Richard walked into the decrepit chapel, it was damp and wet. Snow was melting slowly, as each drop of the liquid frost echoed through the deserted house of worship. Blavatsky was seated next the altar, devoid of its Catholic shroud of chalice and mass cloth. Richard approached Blavatsky with caution, she appeared to be in a trance. She slowly lifted her head with her eyes wide open as she looked up at the crucifix above.
Richard was worried, had she deserted her beliefs to become a Christian. He did not say a word as she silently stared at the image of the crucified Christ. He stood watching her for almost five minutes until she slowly turned to see Richard. She began to talk about her life, and all of the wonders she had seen. Nothing was said in proper order, she switched stories quickly.
She spoke about her trip to Tibet, where she had come across a society monks, hidden from civilization. She spoke about their knowledge of the world "beyond the tangible." She held her breath and stared at Richard, "Was I ever to seek such substantial amount of knowledge? Perhaps the monks wanted me to reside within their society, but I am a woman! Perhaps they didn't want me to repeat what I discovered within the caves in the mountainsides. I left as soon as the night sky covered the horizon. I told people, many people, what I saw, and what I deciphered.
"Yet, you, as well as the others in the Thule society, have misconstrued what I saw. You have taken the theory of the Aryan man and turned it into a nationalistic ideal. I warn you, Richard Schlemming, so long as you carry the swastika on your societie's banner, you will be subjugated to great evil which will tread in your way! You must learn what I have learned, only to understand what truth exists on this earth.
"If you continue your present course, your foolishness will lead you to avenues of great terror. Things no living man has ever lived to tell. Things, of which I have seen, but my allegiance to the almighty one has protected me from! The secrets of Akhenaton will show you the truth. But, as the great king discovered, some things can be misunderstood. A force resides within this earth, a force which prevents man from gaining the knowledge of the universe! I tell you only to discern your present course, and after you are done, proceed to the pyramids."
After Blavatsky’s death in 1891, the society fell into fragmentation. Richard had long-remembered what Blavatsky had told him. Yet, he did not take her warnings with reverence. He thought her to be foolish for trying to deviate him from discovering the truth on his own. He did not believe any terror existed in the universe, perhaps she was listening to too many children tales of phantoms, he thought.
Richard continued to ponder about Blavatsky's advice for him to go the Pyramids. Richard thought Blavatsky was foolish, he did believe she was clairvoyant. He thought she was misunderstanding her own visions. It was now 1904, Richard was an adjunct professor at Ingolstadt. He had access to volumes of works compiling studies on ancient civilizations. He chose to do read about the civilizations that built pyramids.
Richard was not confident as to which pyramids he was supposed to venture to. He figured it may have had something to do with Blavatsky's belief of the Aryans descending from Atlantis. Richard thought they may have been in Tibet where Blavatsky had traveled. After all, very few men have traveled to those parts, so there was credibility in this belief. Richard continued to read through volumes upon volumes. He found nothing that gave him a proper lead. He felt the Maya and Aztec civilzations were too inferior to attain knowledge of the intangible. He felt Egypt was too steeped in the arts and sciences. Richard eventually began to think about a trup to Tibet to find the monks in order to understand what Blavatsky had told him.
In the winter of 1909, Dr. Hauptiedt took note of Richard's studies. The doctor had received a journal from England a few days ago. The journal had records of previous excavation by a British archaeologist named Dr. Langston. A team of British researchers had unearthed the remains of the Valley of the Kings, where the tombs of the Pharaohs resided. Richard received the text and read at his leisure. He slowly read through the list of kings suspected of being buried in the tombs. He came across the name "Akhenaton." Richard's heart sank. Blavatsky had mentioned the name during her warning, it was the most valuable clue. Richard now grew with fervor to venture to Egypt. He spoke to the University consul about funding a trip to Egypt. He went as far as to consult the Imperial German government to fund a private expedition to travel through the ancient tombs. Both denied him.
As the second decade of the Twentieth century arrived, the British and French governments secured rights to excavate the ancient Egyptian ruins. Excited by this new period of discovery, Richard used his father’s personal wealth to secure passage on a voyage to Cairo. He left his post as professor at Ingolstadt and boarded a train for Brindisi to gain passage for Cairo.
He embarked on a tramp steamer sailing for Cairo. Richard was ecstatic and curious to know what awaited him in Egypt. Due to bad weather, the ship diverted its course for Crete. Richard remained on the ship, fearful of the lowly common people of the island. The morning after the ship’s arrival the captain had stated that the ship would continue its course for Cairo after dusk. Richard did not want to spend all day aboard the ship. He had spent the previous night reading and wanted to spend some time away from the vessel. As much as it bothered him, he went down into the small hamlet nearby the port.
As Richard left the industrial confines of the port, he slowly felt as though he was traveling back in time. Within the small town were people dressed in simple attire. All of the women had their hair covered, and almost every man had a full grown beard. All of the townspeople stared at Richard with disgust. Perhaps it was awkward for him to walk into a modest village wearing a white suit and a straw hat.

Musical Accompanimenthttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e76nfh7hu2I
As Richard entered the main confines of the hamlet he began to feel a sense of disorientation. The town had labyrinths of roads and housing units that seemed to overlap one another. Small alleys was became tunnels, and sidewalks turned into residential courts. The entire atmosphere of this town became more off-putting as Richard found himself in a lone alley. There was only one man guiding a horse carrying a crate of barreled goods.
The sound of the crate wheels hobbling along the disproportioned cobble stones perturbed Richard. The glare from the old man was far more alarming for he stared at Richard with a look expressing bad tidings towards the stranger. As the two came closer to one another Richard stopped in front of one of the lone residential facilities. He stared at the carving above the door. It was a swastika engraved in the stone façade, above it was an obtuse triangle set against a circle. As Richard moved closer to observe it, the man ran from the cart. He grabbed Richard and began to stammer foreboding threats.
“You do not want to tread in there! The man, the one who lives here, he practices dark magic! They say he talks with Satan himself. Oh Jesus bless us all! He wishes evil on those whom he considers worthless. No God-fearing man should ever go into that place of evil!”
Richard turned to the old man, “I did not intend to enter, I was merely observing the symbol engraved on above door.” the old man stared at Richard and began to yell out for God’s mercy as he walked away with his horse and crate. Richard was about to turn away when the door opened. The man at the door was short with a bald head. He had a small beard, groomed so that it was tipped with a sharp point. His eyes seemed as though they contained a smile, even though the man kept a serious expression.
He said with a firm tone, “You were staring at my symbol…you were, don’t lie because I know the truth, Richard Schlemming. Is that not who you are?”
“I am Richard Schlemming, my ship is remaining docked here until dusk. I was only observing the symbol I was trying to recall where I had seen it.” Suddenly, Richard felt a shivering sensation in his legs, he was unable to continue walking away.
The man introduced himself, “My name is Rudolf Sienkiewicz.”
“A Slav, I presume,” Richard was able to feel his legs move again.
Rudolf crossed his arms, “Yes, and is there anything wrong with being a Slav, Herr Schlemming! No matter, I presume you will be going to Cairo, don’t ask! I know what takes place in this island! I know a lot of people want to go to Cairo to see the excavation of the Valley of the Kings! Am I wrong?” Richard didn’t reply. “Of course not! You are interested in the spirituality of the ancient kings. Is this true, yes it is! That man whom you conversed with a moment ago…He assumes I am in league with the Dark One, but this is not true. However, I know things man cannot fathom!”
Richard was astonished at the assurance of this man as he bellowed his claims outside his own residence. Rudolf stared Richard in the eye, “Man can learn how to advance himself in the sciences, man can advance in medicine and industry. It must be known, that man cannot unlock the secrets of this world. What we know to be true is only a shroud of the other dimension of existence in this universe. The mundane human only knows the world he is born into. He must never inquest to unlock the secrets of this world. I know what you and Blavatsky were discerning. Try as you may, the door you wish to pass through leads to a portal where men are forbidden to enter. If you pass through that door, you will no longer be at the mercy of the Almighty One. The Dark One will then have full control over your destiny, and it does not include divine power on earth!”
With that said, Rudolf retreated back into his residence slamming the door behind him. Richard stood quietly as he walked away. He continued to try and recollect what he had just heard. He was confounded as to how Rudolf had come to gain such knowledge. He was convinced he was a psychic of some sort, but a pessimistic one at that. He thought he was jealous of his own thirst for knowledge. Richard knew he was nothing like Blavatsky who believed in harvesting the powers of the occult.
As evening fell, Richard was unable to remove his thoughts from what Rudolf had said earlier. He continued to think about the concept of forbidden portals in the universe. He began to develop his own hypothesis for this concept. Perhaps these portals were not pathways to submition under the forces of evil. Richard felt as though this was a pathway to the powers of the occult. It was Christianity that dimmed humanity’s perceptions of this worldview.
The ship left for Cairo and on the way Richard began to develop his theories. There was only one aspect that kept Richard from developing his theory. Where do these portals exist?
During the second day at sea Richard locked himself in his cabin trying to collect his thoughts. He had grown fatigued and slowly slipped in and out of sleep. Eventually he laid down to rest for a few hours. As he fell asleep he immediately began to see visions. They appeared to be distinct locations from around the world. He saw a mountain range with sharp, snow-capped peaks. He saw a desert of ice with a cave hewn from the ground. His last vision included an estate surrounded by a forest. Richard began to see a triangle placed on its side. It’s point was facing west. The triangle began to change its shape as it turned into an obtuse triangle. Behind the triangle he saw a map of the world. The two lower ends of the triangle seemed clear. The point seemed to be laying above Germany. The lowest point appeared as though it was above Egypt. It was at that moment that the obtuse triangle turned upside down and began to take the appearance of a smile. Suddenly Richard heard, “DO NOT DISTURB THE THIRD!”
Richard woke up in terror. For a brief moment he felt as though someone physically gave him the warning. As if the person was actually standing over him beside his bed. For a moment Richard felt a great sense of terror, feeling he was not alone in his cabin. Then, his common sense returned, perhaps his mind was attempting to make sense of the empty warnings Rudolf gave him at Crete.
Richard began to feel very nervous as sweat poured down his forehead. It was ten past midnight, his stateroom was very dark. Only a small ray of light shone through the crack from his stateroom entrance. He looked outside and saw a storm in formation. The sea waves were beginning to gain force as the sound of the howling winds slapped against the sealed window in the room.
Richard remained under his sheets. He began to remember the symbol he had seen above the door of Rudolf’s residence. It was an obtuse triangle! Set against a round circle! The world, this obtuse triangle set sideways against the world is a map for the portals to the other dimensions, Richard thought to himself. He almost smiled in relief, but his inner thoughts still contained the fear of the unknown.
Richard ran from his stateroom and went outside on the lower deck. He looked up to the sky where a few stars were still visible behind the forming cumulonimbus clouds. Richard stood as he pulled out chart of the stars Blavatsky had given to him. Richard believed in finding answers in the constellations. This was one of the main tenants of the Thule Society. As Richard observed the few remaining stars he noticed something strange. One cloud had what appeared to be two spots where two stars shone through. For a moment they appeared to be a pair of eyes. Richard felt it was rather queer, and malicious. He stared at this strange anomaly as it faded away against the weak bolts of lightening streaking across the late night sky. Something seemed wrong.

II


The sun came from the horizon like the eye of demon bursting open to eye its prey. The heat began to rise as the vessel steamed its way to the mouth of the Suez Canal. Richard woke up feeling his muscles strain as he tried to move out of bed. His head began to throb as he began to suffer from a mild headache. His put his hand on his chest and felt his heart beating at an alarming rate. As he began to make sense of his surroundings, Richard felt a deep sensation of confusion.
He kept thinking to himself what happened the night before. He walked outside to the corridor and found the night attendant preparing to change shifts. He grabbed him by the shoulder, “Attendant! Last night, did I come out at all?”
The attendant looked at Richard with assurance, “I think it was about ten after midnight.”
Richard took a deep breath, “Did anyone come into my room at all?”
The attendant continued, “Yes, two men! I’m not positive if I had ever seen on them on the ship before. They came after you came back to your room. I’d say it was around quarter to three. Now if you don’t-”
Richard barked, “Did you seem them leave at any time?”
The attendant interrupted, “I was busy taking care of a woman who woke up claiming a man had broken into her cabin? I don’t remember seeing anyone leave your room, now I had a question for you: did you hear a loud scream last night? I am positive it was around three. I was attending to the woman in C3, and almost everyone woke up in this corridor trying to find out what happened. I wanted to ask you since you did not exit from your room. I assumed you were asleep?”
Richard slowly said, “I did not hear anything last night?”
The attendant looked strangley at Richard, “Two men went into your room last night. I remember them opening the door. Were you expecting them?”
Richard began to sweat, “That’s the problem I do not remember them being in my room! I thought it was a dream. It wasn’t a moment ago until I began to think there really was somebody in my room!”
The attendant looked puzzled, “What I find odd is that everyone seems to be accounted for in this floor. One woman said a man broker into her room, and you say two men entered your room. I’m confused. When we arrive in Suez, I’m sure British authorities will handle the situation.”
Richard proceeded to the dining hall for a light meal. The food was left to be desired. Richard sat quietly as a couple walked into the dining hall. The main cook greeted the man with a great deal of pomp. The man was short, and had a thick brown mustache. He sat down with his wife and began to stuff his pipe. His wife began to look at Richard.
She got up from her seat and approached Richard, “Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt your meal, but I wanted to make an inquiry about the stranger aboard the ship last night. Surely you’ve already heard about it?”
Richard lifted his coffee cup, “Funny you should ask, I was visited by two men last night. I thought it was a dream, but the attendant saw them enter my room.”
The lady looked back at her husband, “John, I told you something strange is happening on this ship! I woke up last night, about quarter to three, and saw a man enter my room! I covered myself in the sheets pretending to be asleep. I think a prowler boarded the ship in Crete! You know how sub-human those people are! He may be masquerading as one of the engine stokers or a passenger. Or maybe it was one of the other attendants!”
The man took a puff from his pipe and interrupted, “Whoever these vagabonds are we need to arrest them. After all, they took my map!”
Richard stared in amazement, “You’re map?”
“Indeed,” the man took another puff from his pipe, “I already cabled the vice-roy at Suez to send a party of officers to board the vessel. I know that idiot is still on this ship. I already spoke with the captain and he agreed to this inspection!”
Richard asked, “if I may ask, what was it a map of?”
The man dropped his pipe, “Surely you don’t know who I am! I am John Langston, Chief professor of archeological studies at Oxford!” Richard felt humbled, now was his chance to work with a person who possibly had knowledge of the excavations at Giza. John continued, “That map was drawn out during my last visit to the excavation sights. It shows the main chambers we have uncovered. My men presume some of Egypt’s most renowned kings are buried there. By now, most of the tombs should be well-excavated.”
Richard leapt with a proposition, “If it is not too much trouble, would you be bothered with the notion of me traveling with you to the excavation sights. I too am completing studies of the ruins. I am Richard Schlemming, a professor at Ingolstadt!”
John picked up his pipe, “I was not planning on spending too much time around the excavation sights. I was going to propose my idea to the government offices in Cairo to perform further excavations. However, I can supply you with a document of passage. I assume you were planning on exploring the ruins. If so, I will have you meet with Lord Dunely who is leading the main excavation team.”
The two men agreed to his proposition. Richard began to concentrate his thoughts on his nocturnal visitors. He wanted to try and understand exactly what had happened. His recollection of any dreams had disappeared from his stream of consciousness. Maybe, the occurrence was nothing more mundane than a bandit attempting to steal private possessions.
It then struck Richard that he ought to check his own belongings. I went immediately back to his stateroom. He looked around as he entered and saw that nothing had been moved. He opened his luggage case and saw most of his belongings remained in tact. He went over to the closet and saw that his briefcase was still in place. He opened it and saw most of papers were still stacked neatly. He closed it immediately. Then he paused for a moment, something seemed out of order. He was about to open his brief case again, and stopped. He dismissed the notion, everything was in order.
The ship arrived in Suez, stopping near the mouth of the canal. A patrol boat came steaming alongside the ship. The inspectors and officers boarded the ship as the passengers and crew were rounded up. All of the chief operators and attendants had name calls. They accounted that everyone who boarded Brindisi was present, and not an extra soul was accounted for. The ship was inspected from aft to starboard. All of the storage holds were monitored, and several passengers stated their inquiries. Mrs. Langston and Richard gave their accounts of what transpired the night before. Richard explained how his luggage remained in tact, this unsettled the main officer. He thought maybe Richard may have been the prowler and was acting as though he too was intruded upon to cover up his actions.
It was the testimony of the main attendant that cleared Richard’s connection with the robbery of the Langston couple. After three hours of questioning and collecting names, the chief lieutenant stated his theory. He believed the ship may have been intruded upon by a prowler who boarded the ship in Crete. A lone ship was trailing the steamer, perhaps appearing in and out of sight to avoid suspicion. The lieutenant said it was a common practice. A sort of covert piracy. After the prowler finished his business the ship came close to the steamer and gave the prowler his mode of escape. Perhaps the ship was lost in the storm that ensued in the early morning hours. It was probably a small vessel no larger than a schooner.
Two hours later, as the bell tolled three in the afternoon, the ship finally docked at Suez. Richard disembarked with the Langston couple as they proceeded to port authorities. Mr. Langston went to go send Richard a right of passage into the excavation site. They walked into the main British embassy building. There Mr. Langston gave Richard his pass. It was there Mr. Langston received a message from the excavation site. It was signed by Lord Dunley.

Dr. Langston

Progress is underway. We have officially made our way tothe main chamber of the tomb of Akhenaton. The famed, and controversial king. The chamber was exactly as you calculated it. We hope to find the other tombs as well. My men plan on working overnight. Some of us are just too excited to attempt sleep tonight. The tomb of Akhenaton can be viewed. I know this will interest you. So if you want to study the tomb you can visit anytime tonight.

Lord Reginald Dunely

Langston looked at Richard, “I don’t plan on venturing to the site tonight. This whole affair with the prowler has vexed me. I would like you to go along, and if possible, report back to me tomorrow. You may need Dunley to guide you through the site, the map I had would have helped you find some of the main sites. If you cannot get much done tonite, I‘m positive Lord Dunely will procure sleeping arrangements for you.” Richard took the offer and received has note of passage. Within a moment he was aboard a train traveling to the outer limits of Cairo. Near Giza, he was escorted by a wagon carrying tools and supplies to the excavation site.
As the wagon traveled across the plains, Richard looked around at his surroundings in awe. Before him was the Great Pyramid, the great wonder of the ancient world. Nothing can compare to the majesty of human achievement. Perhaps it was a group of the super men who ventured to Egypt and supplied the civilization with the knowledge to create such a structure.
Suddenly, Richard began to remember a dream he had the previous night. The obtuse triangle, he thought to himself. The lowest point of the obtuse triangle lies above Egypt…
Richard arrived at the excavation sight around dusk. He stood with his brief case as the sun began to sink behind him. It was there that he met Lord Dunley, who allowed Richard to venture into the tomb. He asked if he wanted a guide to venture inside with him. Richard barked, “No! I will go in by myself.” He walked away stammering and shaking.
Dunley turned to one of the workers, “Why is it, when that Schlemming approached me, that I felt as though I was meeting a demon…”
Richard kept looking back to see if anyone was following him. From the moment he left Dunley’s presence he noticed several men were stopping their work to stare at Richard. Richard kept walking as he felt his knees lower as the sand began to grow soft as he took each heavy step. The winds began to pick up as the temperature and humidity began to lower to uncomfortable levels. Richard was still wearing his white suit with a now loosened tie. He continued to whisper to himself, “the lowest point of the obtuse triangle lies above Egypt!”
He came across the entrance to the tomb of Akhenaton. There, before Richard, was a statue of the gaunt King. The statue depicted a frail king holding the scepters of power. In the center, imprinted on the king’s chest was a circle with an obtuse triangle. The triangle was on its side. Richard’s eyes began to widen as he felt as though he wanted to scream in exultation. He felt his arms quiver as he dragged his brief case alongside. The case dropped from his hands, and it opened upon impact. As Richard looked down, he saw something amazing. There, unfolded was the map Langston was looking for. It was titled as “Outline of the Main Excavation Site.” He looked at the main drawings and saw a detailed layout of the main outer structure of the tomb of Akhenaton. It must have only been assumed where the main chambers were. But, Richard thought had some use for this venture. He walked inside into the cold labyrinth. He realized he had nothing to light the dark entrance. He reached for a lighter. It was unable to be ignited.
Richard still continued to walk into the tomb. All around him were hieroglyphics and statues of the king. For the ordinary person, the darkness of this tomb may have turned many away. Yet, an unseen force almost seemed to be guiding Richard. He eventually dropped the map as he entered the chamber of the tomb of Akhenaton.
Even though there was no source of light in this dark layer of death, Richard raised his arm over the tomb. He slowly guided his forefinger across the tomb as he pushed away excess sand that still engulfed the tomb. His finger stopped at the other end. He looked down from the side of the tomb. There was a pile of sand. Richard began to dig through it. He was unaware wholly of what he was looking for. But, he continued to receive mental instruction by this unseen force.
As Richard removed the majority of the sand away, he found that he had reached the main floor of the chamber. Before his awestruck eyes was an obtuse triangle over a circle engraved on the floor. He laid the palm of his hand over it. Then the floor shacked as two halves of the circle separated. The floor moved into to halves moving in opposite directions. Some of the sand began to poor into this deep crevice. Richard caught a brief glimpse of a case at the bottom as it was being piled upon by the falling sand.
Richard’s heart jumped as he scrambled to lower himself into the put. As he fell in, he noticed it was moving deeper into the ground. As the floor lowered the sand that fell from the floor and collapsed under the moving pit. The crevice stopped moving. Richard looked around as a wall stood before him with a swastika imprinted on the wall before him. He opened the case, and there before him was medal swastika, the same size as the imprint. Was this some ancient lock developed by Akhenaton. Was he a superman who brought technology to Ancient Egypt?
Richard grabbed the medal swastika and put in place. The wall moved back as a chamber was unveiled to the left from where Richard was standing. There, stood a statue of a creature, perhaps a deity of some sort. It had long sharp ears and anthropomorphic appearance. One thing perturbed Richard, this beast was smiling as it unveiled its sharp teeth. The statue looked as though it was carved from gold. It was ornate in appearance yet the overall statue was simple in design.
Below the statue was scroll. Richard was afraid to touch it, it looked too old to be handled. He looked back up at the statue, he thought he heard someone say, take it. He slowly reached for the scroll and it did not fall apart. Richard immediately walked away from the chamber. He put the swastika back in place the wall moved back. Almost immediately, the floor began to rise up again to the main chamber. As the floor began to reach ground level, he heard the voices of men. One of them sounded like Lord Dunley. Richard immediately got up on the ground level and reached for his brief case and Langston’s map.
The voices were getting closer. Richard did not want to confront the men revealing his secret scroll. He looked to the entrance of the chamber and turned around. There was another entrance that led to a more complex system of hallways. Richard looked at Langston’s map and knew he had a way of finding his way out. Once again, he walked through the dark as if he was still able to read the directions correctly.
After ten minutes of winding through the dark corridors, Richard finally was able to find his way out of the chamber. He pushed against a door that was still blocked by sand. As he slowly opened it, a huge pile of sand came falling down. Apparently that corridor had not been properly excavated. Richard climbed up the sand and found his way to the surface ground. He was on the other side of the excavation site. As the sun fell below the horizon, Richard disappeared into the night. No one near, or around the excavation site reported having seen him exit.

Dr. Langston,

The professor from Ingolstadt you sent is missing. Last night he entered the tomb, and no one saw him exit. I had some of my men go around the site to find any traces of him. We found the other entrance of the chamber had been opened. None of my men reported having discovered it. I believe Richard found it, and possibly left the site. I found him, unsettling. I think we ought to notify authorities in Cairo to and Algiers to begin a search. I think he found something, he obviously wants to take the glory for himself. We’ll know when reports come from Germany about a ‘professor who found something miraculous at the tomb of Akhenaton.’
-Lord Dunley
III

A haze hung overhead the sharp steeples of the blue mosque overlooking the Bosporus. The entire scene appeared deserted for once being the great port that held the commerce and trade of Constantine and Justinian. A loud, low-pitched whistle bellowed through the air as a blue-funneled vessel came into port.
The vessel “Stentor,” was carrying a large load of freight from Tunisia. Her captain disembarked the vessel as he watched the crates loaded by the crane onto the train on the adjacent rail line. The navigator came up to the captain, “Captain, you said when we arrived in Constantinople, we would decide what to do about the stow-away.”
The captain remained calm as he turned to the navigator, “I try to run this vessel on a clean slate. I don’t want to have any doings with the authorities. We gave this man passage out of good old fashioned Christian kindness. I sense he does some wrong, but I don’t want the authorities scowering my ship looking for him. In regards to the manifest…” The captain rubbed his fingers against his speckled beard. “Before the port authorities arrive, let him loose. Have him help unload some of the cargo so he will look like another worker. Then, when nobody is looking, he can retreat into the city. Then, he will be the responsibility of the Ottoman authorities.”
The navigator turned to look directly at the captain, “I cannot discren whether this is my conscience, or fear of the authorities. But, did you find the man to a bit…frightening. I mean, there’s something about him that goes beyond criminal.”
The captain smirked, “He comes from the desert, plenty of people go mad in those parts of the world.”
The navigator bit his lip, “But, the look in his eyes. The brief case he carries. It looks as though he’s hiding something too big to fit inside. Then, those nights when we allowed him solace in the mess hall. I peaked in there last night and kept hovering over some paper he unfurled from his brief case. It sounded as though he was speaking a foreign language.”
The captain was quiet for a moment, “We are going to let him loose, and we will try to forget that he ever traveled on this ship.”
The two men walked back inside as the crew began to unload the wheel barrels of gun powder. Turkish army inspectors arrived at the dock. As they neared the main loading facilities, Richard slowly walked away from his post and picked up his white suit he left behind one of the crates. Carrying his brief case, he stumbled away from the ship.
The Turkish officer approached the captain with a cable. The captain took it from the officer and read it to himself.




To all British Vessels

Any vessels departing from North Africa will have thorough inspections by port and government authorities upon arriving at their destination. The German professor Richard Schlemming is still at large for having infiltrated and stolen the map of Dr. John Langston. It is also presumed he infiltrated the excavation sites at Tanis and stole some artifacts. Please cooperate with the authorities, it’s important you keep track of who travels, or works aboard your vessel.
-Lord Earl Cawdor
First Lord of the Admiralty

The captain went ahead and allowed the Turkish officers to enter the ship. The captain spoke quickly with his subordinates and passed the word that all would report that no other person, other than assigned crew and cargo, boarded the ship. As far as all of them were concerned, no one boarded in Tunisia. This was easy to maintain since there was only a crew of forty on hand. Most were loyal to the captain, and many of them didn’t even get to see Richard board the ship. If any of them came across Richard, they would have presumed he was another crewman. The authorities approached the captain and he gave his testimony of the voyage. As far as the British Office in Palestine was concerned, the vessel Stentor, did not possibly ferry the still-at large Richard Schlemming.
After the long voyage, Richard descended upon the streets of European Constantinople. Across the straits he saw the Hagai Sophia and the Blue Mosque. He began to think about taking on an alternate personality to keep his cover. He thought about going to the nearest washing closet and shave his mustache and comb his hair back. His skin had baked into a light red. He felt he was able to masquerade as a Turk. He knew some Arab he picked up at Breslau. It seemed full proof of a plan.
He adopted the name Abdul Alhrazed. He was able to spend a night walking up and down the streets near the Bosperus ferry docks pretending to be a beggar. European tourists traveling form the Asian side of the city took pity on him, and he acquired enough shillings to go and get his clothes pressed and ironed. As he was preparing to walk away from the ferry boarding dock, a man in a dark blue suit came up to him. “Hold it,” he said as Richard paused in fear… “You look vaguely familiar. Tell me, beggar, have you ever been to Germany?”
Richard barked in his fake Arabic accent, “Nooo, I never travel Germany! Never, too many white man! I fine here where white man only come travel! When white man want conquer my land, then I leave!”
The man smiled, he looked over Richard. Somehow, Richard was aware this man knew who he was. The man smiled, “Why don’t I treat you to a nice evening meal. You’ve been out in the sun all day. I’m sure you would like your coat washed and pressed.” Richard looked down and saw the lapel from his suit was visible. The man escorted Richard away to the Selkirk Hotel. There, he allowed Richard to use his bathing facilities.
The man stayed behind at the desk ordering dinner, he told Richard to go ahead, giving him the key. Richard was puzzled, how was this man able to trust Richard. He was still unaware if the man really knew who he was, or if he just had a kind heart for beggars. No less, Richard retreated to the room on the second floor.
He walked in, unveiling his briefcase from his overcoat. He knew he had to hide it somehow. He did not want it to attract any attention. He proceeded to move the knight stand forward by five inches. He hesitated, it was too obvious. Then, the lifted the mattress, and slid the case under the bed. He knew if it was hidden in plain site, the man would never find it. As Richard walked into the washing closet, the man walked in from the hallway. He looked around and noticed the center of the mattress seemed to look as though something was placed under it.
As Richard exited the bathroom he saw the man relaxing on the balcony at the hotel. As Richard put on his clean suit, he became aware that the man already figured out he was not a beggar. He looked over and saw his brief case was opened with the scroll from Akhenaton’s tomb. The man came over and looked at Richard, “I was wondering how on earth you were able to get a hold of the map of Akhenaton. Then I remembered hearing about the incident last month in which a German professor went into the tomb of Akhenaton and disappeared. So tell me, Richard Schlemming, why did you take this scroll. What did you find in it?”
Richard knew he was caught, “Since you found it in my brief case, I assume you already opened it.”
The man paused, “I want to hear what you know about it, I have don’t my research already.”
Richard knew he did not have the words to say what he knew about the scroll. He only studied it in small intervals aboard the ship from Tunisia. He was always afraid of being caught with the scroll. He knew its ages would attract the eyes of thieves and scholars alike. He held his breath, feeling an Aire of comfort from this man, and walked towards the scroll and unraveled it. The man’s eye’s widened in disbelief, “so this is it,” he exclaimed.
There, before the two men was an accurate map of North Africa and Eastern Europe. There were also detailed accounts of the ice sheets in the north, including Iceland and Franz Josef Island. The man stood over the map and looked at Richard, “Do you mind if I do something, I’m not positive if you would find this unorthodox or not.” he walked over to his briefcase, and pulled out a compass and a ruler. He turned to Richard, “Please excuse my hesitation to introduce myself Mr. Schlemming.” He stood up, “My name is John Herot, I am a transfer professor at the University of Moscow. I, and two other professors have been studying the ancient code to decipher the roots of the European race. We were not going to settle for the idea that Europeans descended from the ancient Mesopotamians. Last year, I was traveling to Samaria to meet with a Russian general named Dmitri Litvinov. He was overseeing the construction of the Trans-continental railroad. While digging through some ground to make way for the railroad, the workers found an underground cave network. Litvinov, who was generous to call me and Dr. Lehmann to the scene, had went into the caves and found some of the artifacts hidden there,” Herot took a deep breath.
“I arrived there in January of last year, and we found that the networks seems to go further underground than Litvinov had assumed. The artifacts he found included what appeared to be pre-historic sculptures of figures with a globe and obtuse triangle engraved on their chests. I studied these figures at the site. It seemed enigmatic at first. I went down under with Dr. Lehmann the next day and we found carvings on the wall that show the points of the obtuse triangle over what appeared to be a map of the world. Next to each point was a detailed drawing of what exists on either end. At the highest point a range of mountains was drawn. At the middle point, a dense forest. Finally, at the bottom, a set of three pyramids. My heart leapt for joy, I knew I had a valid place I could go search and excavate for evidence.”
Herot placed the tips of his fingers on the map, “The Imperial government dampened our work in Samaria. Apparently royalty has no interest in archaeological feats. I knew Egypt was a place I was able to go to. After all, Dr. Lehmann is close friends with Lord Dunley who is in charge of the excavation team down there. Here you are, Richard Schlemming. An asset to my studies. You need not worry, I will not inform Lord Dunley of your whereabouts. I plan on leaving for Cairo tomorrow. I know it would seem sensible if you travel along with me. However, I will cable Dr. Lehmann. He is residing in the town of Piotrkow, at the furthest west point of the Empire.” Herot went back to drawing the obtuse triangle. When he finished he pointed to the middle point, which laid over the Polish region of the Russian Empire. “There, Mr. Schlemming, is a forest, it’s for the most part uninhabited. Only a farmer lives near the region.
“I went there only once. Most people in the town lack knowledge of the region. Only a Catholic monk knows about its history. Now, don’t mind me cutting this archaeological lesson short, but I must get your transportation arranged this minute. I believe the Orient Express leaves Selkirk station early tomorrow at nine. You will depart at Bucharest, where I will send a cable to the stationmaster to procure you transportation across the Carpathians to Poland. Lehmann will meet you at the border where he will have sufficient papers to allow you to cross. We will probably need to get you a false name. Oh, there is much to do. The dinner will be delivered shortly to the room. I will leave now, I need to get this all arranged before it gets too late.”
Dr. Herot flew out of the room, as Richard continued to hover over the map. Herot didn’t say too much about the map, but it was obviously a vital component of the triangle. The only question lingering in Richard’s mind was why Herot was continuing the journey to Egypt. Perhaps there was more to be discovered. Maybe Richard had only one piece of a vast collection of evidence. What Richard was aware of was the fact that Herot seemed to be interested in this search for archaeological purposes. Ricahrd was weary as to whether or not he should share his beliefs, or speak of his encounter with Rudolf in Crete. He sat down in the chair in the balcony and looked up at the stars. A frigid breeze of air blew from the northwest. The middle point is in Poland, he thought to himself. Then he heard a voice echo in his head, do not disturb the third…
Richard eyes remained close. His back began to feel cold, his spine shivered. He felt a cold force push against his back. He heard the sound of birds chirping to one another as they flew away from the balcony. A dog was barking madly below in the streets. Its owner came out to see what was the matter. The dog was barking towards the balcony.
Richard covered his head with the sheets. He began to breath heavily as sweat gathered near his thin eyebrows. A low breathing, slow in pace, was echoing through Richard's ears. Someone was in the room. He got up immediately to see who was there. The room was empty. Richard shut his eyes again.
Around him was a dense forest in which a dark sky hung overhead. The clouds seemed to glow with a fiendish red ray. Sounds not known to be made by any living thing echoed from the thin trees, which stood erect with branches that appeared to be the hands of a beast. Before him, was a large building, three floors, made of white stone. The windows glowed with the curtains behind revealing strange faces peering through. He walked inside the building slowly as a strange winged creature attempted to swoop down on him. He shut the door immediately as the beast, which he did not get a good look at, slammed on the door.
He ran upstairs to the second floor. At the hallway, two cloaked figures walked there way slowly to the staircase to meet him. The sound of moans and inhuman grunts scared him to run immediately up the stairs to the third floor. The window at the base of the stairs was being banged by the winged creature. He was unable to get a good look at as he continued to race up to the third floor. Something was following him. The sounds of a tympanic drum was coming from below as whispers and hisses sounded.
The third floor was guarded by a large white door. He opened it and ran inside. The door immediately slammed shut behind him as his heart raced. Before him were three doors; to his right, a door facing north; to his left, a door facing south; straight ahead, a door facing west. He slowly walked towards it, not thinking about what lied behind its confines. After the horror he witnessed, he did not turn around. He did not stop to kneel for God's grace, he did not admit he entered the building at his own will. He was at the point from which he cannot turn around. He was nearly being pushed towards this door.
Then, the door slammed open. A low grunt was heard, and footsteps came from inside the dark room. A human-like figure appeared at the foot of the door. Its hand went to grab the door knob. Man cannot describe the horrors we can face, for these horrors we will never live to tell. If we do encounter them, we have opened the door from which we free-willingly chose to abandon our creator. We chose challenging with a force we cannot handle, a force which will demand allegiance, a force which will destroy us physically. He was not looking at the hands of Satan, Lucifer, or a demon. These were the hands of the Dark One.
The Dark One moved slowly towards him as each footstep he took sounded like a clap of thunder. Its mouth grinned with a hideous expression as all of its razor sharp teeth were visible. Behind it, its wings unfurled as it moved closer. He couldn't feel himself. He wanted to scream and run to safety, yet he could not move. The Dark One moved closer as it turned into a dark shadow. It cast its dark, long hands with knife-like fingers prepared to attack its prey. He crouched as it hovered over him. It swooped down as darkness followed with it. Richard woke up screaming.

IV.

Richard arrived at Selkirk station prepared to board the Orient Express. Steam pumped loudly from the cylinder valves from the hulking locomotive. Adoring the face of the engine was the famous crescent moon emblem of the Ottoman flag. The steam cast out smoke from the lower parts of the boiler. Richard felt frightened. With each thundering blast of the engine's valves, Richard flinched. The steam almost made the visibility of the platform foggy. Railroad workers attending the engine almost appeared like dark apparitions coming from the caludrons of the underworld. The red glow of the locomotive's firebox appared like two fiendish eyes watching Richard as he passed the engine.
Richard carried his briefcase as he confronted the porter. He handed him his ticket and room assignment. On the paper it read:

Peter Isamov.
Bucharest-Destination
Richard pulled out the forged Russian passport, the porter didn’t seem too inquisitive. He quickly handed Richard the passport. Richard quickly boarded the sleeping car and found his room instantly. He sat down and dropped his suitcase on the seat next to him. It felt a lot better to not have that map in there, Richard thought to himself. He handed over the Akhenaton map to Herot, who secretly carried it with his archaeological tools. Richard knew the map was in safe hands. After all, John Herot gave his word of honor to Richard before leaving him at the platform.
The call went up, the engine whistle let out a shriek as the pistons moved the wheels along the rails. As the train thundered out of the station, the compartment door opened. The porter looked inside, “Mr. Isamov, would you mind if you shared a room with an extra passenger.” Richard nodded, seeing no problem in having an extra passengers. Anyhow he wanted to try and relax on this journey. General conversation may set his heart at ease after a month of traveling and securing the damned map of Akhenaton, and the frightening vision he had the night before.
The porter moved aside as the man came in. He was short, maybe about five foot, six inches. His face was pale with sharp grey eyes. He had a light smirk which seemed juxtaposed against his dark attire. He wore a dark bowler hat, with a black umbrella. He wore a long wool overcoat, and a striped suit underneath. He work large leather gloves, and silver-plated cuff links on his sleeves.
He sat on the opposite seat of the compartment staring at Richard. For a moment the situation seemed odd, as both men refrained from speech with one another. Richard turned to look out the window. From the corner of his eye he saw the man continued to stare at him. Richard felt uneasy, this man did not seem inviting. He sat still, even as the train swayed and bumped along the rails.
A loud rumble came from outside. Another train on the parallel rail was coming from the opposite direction. The whistle shrieked, and made Richard flinch. From the windows of the cars of the train, Richard did not see passengers. He saw faces of what appeared to be moaning apparitions, all with large mouths and white glowing orbs in their large black eyes. Richard felt himself grow stiff as he nearly yelped in terror. His legs shook, and palms were moist with perspiration. He felt as though something lethargic was pressing down on his shoulders. He let out a tear, and turned quickly to the man sitting as the train passed away with another shriek of the engine’s whistle.
The man continued to stare at him. His smirk had grown into a frown. The two continued to stare at one another for a minute before anyone said anything. The man stood up and addressed Richard, “You can never listen to a warning. Like the fly that hits the window, yet it does not realize it’s hitting a window, you continue to do the same thing. Do you not understand, your journey must stop. If you depart at Bucharest, I suggest you get a ticket for Germany and return home. Forget all about this! If you continue this journey, then that occurrence with the passing train a moment ago will pale in comparison to what you will encounter.”
Richard did not know what to make of this man. He seemed to know everything Richard was up to. He knew what Richard saw in the passing train, but something seemed to make Richard persistant. He slowly murmured, “If-f-f-f- I continue this-is journey, w-w-what will happen!”
The man stood still with both hands crossed over the umbrella handle, “As my friend Rudolf told you Crete, you will be unlocking a door by which you will be liberating yourself from the mercy of the Almighty One. The Dark One will have you under his control once you have opened the door. He will show no mercy.”
Richard ran out of the room in terror. He walked over to the vestibule of the train. He watched the passing countryside as the engine began to climb in speed over the Bulgarian countryside. The whistle continued to shriek as the engine approached a viaduct. Suddenly, Richard felt long fingers crawl against his back to his shoulder. He heard a voice, “Do it, you already crossed the door, nothing will save you now. Better it comes to this, or maybe you can continue your journey, and I promise you will not be harmed.”
Ricahrd turned around and saw nobody there. He began to yell and scream, causing the passengers to come out from their compartments. The corridor attendant ran to see what was taking place. Richard turned around convulsing, wide-eyed and ripping at his suit. “THEY WANT ME! THEY WANT ME! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! I RELENT! AKMELA TORI NOSKA TRAYNOTFUSA!
The attendant rant to grab Richard. As he got closer Richard opened the door. The train was racing over the viaduct. He looked up to the sky and screamed, “ELOHIM!” and fell from the door into the deep crevice of rock lying seventy feet below the viaduct. The train came to a screeching halt. The porter and several passengers exited the train. They looked over the edge of the viaduct. Richard was nowhere in sight. The man in the black suit came behind one of the porters to take a look. He turned around and began walking along the rails heading west. After a minute the porter turned around to see if the man was still there. He was no longer in sight.

Dr. Lehmann

It seems as though Richard’s suicide was something I was not expecting. I believe he was under some sort of pressure. After all, he stole the map of Akhenaton. Perhaps his guilt got the better of him. I have found nothing Egypt, so I will be returning to Moscow. For now, we try and collect our data for now. We also may want to move to Berlin, it seems as though the Sunday riots in St. Petersburg show an escalation in partisan violence. I would like to return to Samaria soon, but for now we may want to hold back on our findings. I have the map of Akhenaton. If we want to look anywhere I think we ought to look at the third point, at the highest level of the triangle. The arctic. I will be in Berlin soon.

Your friend,
Dr. John Herot.

Short Story: The Revelation of Karl Kaltenbrunner

25 April 1947

To Gen. Carl A. Spaatz
Commanding General of USAAF

Last week, I traveled to the private residence of Obergruppenfuhrer Karl Kaltenbrunner in Ludwigshafen, Rhineland. I must inform you that we have yet to find Kaltenbrunner at this moment. It seemed important to travel to his private residence to find any traces, or clues as to where he may be residing. We found something I believe the United States government should keep in its possession. It’s imperative that this document should not be distributed among the mass public. I assume it arrived along with this correspondence. Please read it over as soon as possible. I will be returning to London in a week. As of now, I have kept my silence on this document.

Lieutenant James R. Connor

THE REVELATION OF KARL VON KALTENBRUNNER

This is the revelation of Karl von Kaltenbrunner. I am the leader of the SS Thule society. My role was both leader and keeper of classified discoveries. Seven years earlier I traveled across the world to find evidence of the roots of the Aryan race. We traveled to Egypt, Mexico, Peru, Tibet, and our homeland in Bavaria. My group of men transformed from a team of archaeologists to a group of scavengers. Our lust for ancient artifacts superseded our thirst for knowledge. I continued to do my research, and hoarded my own discoveries from my men. It was during this expedition that I developed my theories about the ancient world.
I took note of the ancient civilization’s knowledge of astronomy. They were highly advanced peoples for not being Aryan. Yet, I cannot fathom this notion to this very day, but I believed these people had contact with “super-men.” The same super men from which our great race descended from. These super beings did not come from this earth, instead they came from the heavens. All of the civilizations I studied had an obsessive reverence with the heavens. They built great pyramids and temples to reach the heavens. All accounts of interaction with the gods describe an entity descending from the heavens.
I believed it was important for our race to try to reach the heavens in order to contact these celestial beings. In 1938, I had a private meeting with Reichsfuhrer Himmler to discuss the formation of an Astrological research division. We both agreed that the Fuhrer was not to know anything about this program. We feared his ambition for war would damper any funding this program might receive. I called for the establishment of a private research facility in Peenemunde. There, we collected some of Germany’s own astrologers to research technology to establish communications with the heavens.
Dr. Friedrich Rechtenberg developed a concept of a rocket that would send a radio into space. The radio would be attached to a vehicle that was to orbit the earth. Like a conventional radio, its purpose is to send wave lengths carrying messages into space. I was able to secure private funds from Dr. Shatterhand and Dr. Mulhasen. In February of 1940, the program privately hired Werner von Braun to design this rocket.
The war eventually set back out progress. Von Braun and Rechtenberg continued to work privately on the rocket. But, as the V2 program went underway, all hope of any progress was abandoned. However, good fortunes were at hand. Von Braun and Rechtenberg secured rights to test an experiment V-2 rocket. By June of 1944, the construction of this rocket was underway. Rechtenberg built the radio and had it secretly built into the rocket. He told me about the various times when the Gestapo made visits to the air field. Rechtenberg knew they were present only to make security inspections. If any one of them asked about the radio, Rechtenberf lied to them with quantum physical science jargon to confound them. In two months it was ready to be fired.
August 12, 1944. The rocket was launched. Many Luftwaffe and SS officials watched in amazement as the rocket continued to fly up into the sky. It didn’t occur to them that they witnessed a top secret rocket launched into space. A rocket the fuehrer didn’t know existed. Amidst this great triumph, current events continued to discourage the program team. The Allies liberated Paris, and the Soviet offensive was crossing over Poland to Germany.
And yet, something enigmatic happened. My heart palpitates quickly just reminiscing about this event. Our celestial radio message was received. We were not able to remain in contact with the radio. But, our message gave direction of whom to contact when the message was received. I was back home in Rhineland, having dinner with Rechtenberg. A bright light shone from my parlor window. Outside trees swayed violently as birds expelled themselves from the area. I ran out to the main court only to be thrown back by a jet of wind. Rechtenberg urged me to return indoors. He was afraid and suggested we leave the premises.
I got back up and attempted to walk back to the court. Rechtenberg grabbed me by my right shoulder holding me back. We didn’t say a word to one another. I thought about what I wanted to say, yet I was not saying anything. Rechtenberg must have been going through the same phenomenon. I pulled back my arm and continued walking outside. The winds blasted through the main court door as the light appeared overhead. I noticed some of the tables and plates had been thrown around by the prodigious force of these winds. I continued walking as Rechtenberg slowly followed.
A great light descended from the skies. Both Rechtenberg and myself stood in awe as it slowly came down. The light dimmed slightly. Was this the same light that many ancient humans witnessed. Did they have the feeling as though the gods came down from the heavens. Were they questioning what they were seeing. Did they have any idea, did they know who was descending upon them. All these thoughts raced through my brain as this light shone overhead. For once I did not feel like the mighty and intelligent human any more.
A loud jet of an unknown pressurized substance blasted through the air. Rechtenberg stood silent as I continued to observed the light. Suddenly, I felt a great wave of horror as two lone figures walked out from the light. Within me, grew an atmosphere of uncertainty. Had I really accomplished the greatest feat known to man, or had I opened Pandora’s box. Were these really superman, or some alien race looking for an opportunity to infiltrate earth. A mixture of emotions caused me to perpetrate as the two lone figures stood silently. My immediate reaction caused my heart to nearly stop in terror: they were not human.
The two figures became more visible. I was appalled and filled with agonizing terror. They made no sound as they walked towards me. I began to feel a pulse as though my whole body had weakened. My eyes remained fixated on these two individuals, as they stopped five meters from where I stood.
If I had any previous conceptions of the super man, it did not coincide with the appearance of these two figures. They were not human. They had the same anatomical features as most humans. However, they were hideously gaunt with large black eyes and two small nostrils. Their hands were horrifically large, and their skulls were oddly shaped. Suddenly, one of them walked closer towards Rechtenberg, who appeared to be in a trance. I felt an immense sensation of horror as the being stared at Rechtenberg. I was unable to move, I tried to move to save Rechtenberg, but I was immobile. I looked at the other being who stayed behind, as he continued to stare at me. I felt as though he was controlling me. This ghastly monster stared Rechtenberg directly in the eye. Rechtenberg did not move, nor did he appear horrified. He stood, calm, quiet.
Rechtenberg turned and looked at me and told me he was going away. I felt abhorred at the idea. The demon hypnotized him. Suddenly I felt a great fear, remembering how our own SS officers kidnapped citizens at night. The next morning they were found sliced to death as part of some unethical experiment. There were other times when officers performed perverse experiments purely for their enjoyment. What made me think these demons were capable of the same treachery, maybe it was their alien appearance.
I struggled to move, but the other creature continued to hold me down. I was almost sure he was using some psychic power to keep me down. I saw no weapon in his hand. It did not appear as though he was wearing any garments. He kept his right arm raised aiming his palm at my face as I remained immobile. Rechtenberg turned to me again. This time he appeared more conscious. He told me he was leaving, he didn’t tell me where. He continued by only saying he would return on May-Eve of next year. That was nine months away! What on earth was he thinking…did it even cross his mind that he might not return. But, old Rechtenberg grew a smile on his pale face as the slowly walked with the two monsters into the light. As they went into the light, I felt myself able to move again. I ran quickly towards the light, and a huge jet-like force threw me back.
I must have been knocked unconscious, for I woke up around noon the following day. I looked around and found my residence had been damaged by this visit. Several windows had been broken, trees collapsed around the court. The main windows at the dinning room had fallen from their hinges and shards of glass lay all over the dinning room table. I went back to the spot where I saw the light descend. The grass appeared wind bent. As I walked closer I saw a dark crater had formed. I looked closer and saw some strange looking substance that was still simmering. I was afraid. Whatever came down from the skies was something advanced, something we humans were not capable of producing. It was then I knew I had come in contact with an advanced form of life from space. Where they came from I still do not know. I knew one thing, I needed to leave Germany and make passage for South America. There, I would continue my research.
I went into town to go take the coach to the train station in Frankfurt. As I waited at the stop, I saw a newspaper vendor holding the latest paper reading: STRAGE LIGHT SEEN OVER LUDWIGSHAFFEN! LUFTWAFFE UNAWARE OF ANY AIRCRAFT. POSSIBLE ALLIED SECRET WEAPON! I was relieved to see the media had taken a different course of assumption. I sat quietly waiting for the coach. I was suddenly aware that the SS might be looking for me. I was supposed to report back to Berlin in a week. I made a quick decision. I was leaving the country for good. I went to Switzerland in disguise as Reynard Hapstein. Thankfully security at the border was light since the police forces were concentrated at the French German border. I remained in Switzerland for the remainder of the war planning a private expedition to Peru. I would go to the desert at Nazca, and the ruins at Cicinitza. I hoped to possibly find any clues as to where these beings came from.
Then after the second week in Zurich, it hit me, I was forgetting what had happened. I began to wake up every morning with a head ache, each day it grew worse. One morning I nearly collapsed. As the new year arrived, I began to grow frightened every night thinking about the visitors. I spent evenings wide awake staring outside to see if that light returned. I thought about Rechtenberg. What had happened to him. Every night I played scenarios in my head, sometimes they were too horrifying I found myself screaming in terror only to be visited by the hotel clerk. Then, May-eve finally came. The fuehrer had shot himself, the Soviets were in Germany, and the Allies were advancing towards Berlin. I returned masquerading as a civilian. My home was still in the same dilapidated condition that the alien craft had left it. I waited in the parlor waiting for Rechtenberg and the fiends to return. I waited all night, sometimes in horror. I felt like leaving, but I did not go. I woke up and began writing this revelation around three in the morning. I feel the world needs to know what happened. Rechtenberg has yet to show up. I fear he may be gone for good. What happened to him I do not know, nor do I really want to wait to see what those fiends did to him. I am leaving. I do not know where, but I will try to continue my studies away from this country. Reader, whoever you are, please try to find Rechtenberg. Inform the foreign office, see if he has returned. Don’t look for me, I will be in hiding. I know my involvement with the projects at Peenemunde will require me to be interrogated. I say farewell to all, what will happen to me, I cannot fathom. Both man and fiend will be after me. I have come to discern that knowledge is pain.



Karl Kaltenbrunner