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Authors: Barry Reese
Tags: Fiction
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as The Peregrine.
Without any preamble, Lazarus looked into the eyes of Max Davies and said one word: “Nyarlathotep.”
CHAPTER VI
You Are Cordially Invited To Meet Mr. Death
Berlin
Heinrich Himmler offered only the most perfunctory of salutes as he strode through the halls of the Occult Forces Project. As soon as word had reached him that the Schneider Expedition—or what was left of it—had returned, he had grabbed a car and sped through the city.
At any point, he had dozens of important projects with which to occupy himself but he had taken a particular interest in this one. Dieter Schneider was a genius and if he could prove his beliefs, it could mean a tremendous benefit to the OFP from both a propaganda standpoint and from a financial one. The funding would obviously begin rolling in and then Himmler’s attempts to create super soldiers would be all the better.
To his surprise, he found Schneider in one of the experimental labs. The man’s daughter—a fine-looking specimen of Aryan womanhood, Himmler thought—and Lars Hansel were both alongside the professor. Several of the OFP’s top scientists were eagerly studying some sort of mucous-like fluid that was held in a beaker. Their excitement was so great that it wasn’t until Himmler cleared his throat that anyone even took notice of him. The man holding the beaker—Otto Luther, Himmler remembered—looking almost guilty as he brought the container tight against his chest.
Dispensing with pleasantries, Himmler acknowledged Lars with a quick nod of his head and then strode straight up to Dieter. “Welcome back, Herr Schneider! I am sorry to see that your party suffered such severe losses but I am hopeful that their sacrifices were not in vain.”
“I have good and bad news, I am afraid,” Dieter replied. Himmler noticed that the man looked slimmer than he remembered and his eyes were fearful and constantly in movement.
Himmler frowned and gestured for the man to continue. “Start with the bad news, if you would.”
“We did not find Valhalla… but we did find something that I think will prove to be even better.” Dieter gestured to the scientists, who were still staring at the strange fluid in the beaker. “I have brought this substance which can be used to create more soldiers for our war. It has an amazing effect on human flesh, mutating it in surprising ways and making it much more durable.”
“Interesting. And where did you find this… substance?”
“It came from a creature called Darhoth. She is an ancient entity devoted to chaos and bloodshed. She and her agent, Vulthar, returned with me.” He pointed towards the creature that wore his daughter’s face. “This is not Sonya. This is Darhoth, the Mother of Pus. Likewise, Lars is no longer with us. His body is being used as a living host for Vulthar.”
Himmler paused, thinking for a moment that perhaps Schneider had gone mad. But he had seen far too many amazing things in recent years to discount the story, particularly if his scientists were that enthused by the substance that had been brought back.
Turning his attention to the woman that resembled Sonya, he asked, “And is this true? You’re some sort of… alien creature?”
Darhoth grinned and the expression sent a chill down Himmler’s spine. It looked hideous, as if the entity had no true conception of what a smile should look like. “I am here to make your kind bleed and scream.” She reached out and touched Himmler’s cheek, her fingers feeling cold and clammy. “But I will give you and your master so much power in return for your service. You will not need fear me… not yet.”
Himmler reached up and seized her by the wrist, squeezing it tight. “You are mistaken. The Füehrer does not serve anyone besides the Fatherland. If you are what you say you are, then you will bow down before him, not the other way around!”
“Herr Himmler,” Dieter whispered, looking frantic. “Please. I know how it sounds but
Without any preamble, Lazarus looked into the eyes of Max Davies and said one word: “Nyarlathotep.”
CHAPTER VI
You Are Cordially Invited To Meet Mr. Death
Berlin
Heinrich Himmler offered only the most perfunctory of salutes as he strode through the halls of the Occult Forces Project. As soon as word had reached him that the Schneider Expedition—or what was left of it—had returned, he had grabbed a car and sped through the city.
At any point, he had dozens of important projects with which to occupy himself but he had taken a particular interest in this one. Dieter Schneider was a genius and if he could prove his beliefs, it could mean a tremendous benefit to the OFP from both a propaganda standpoint and from a financial one. The funding would obviously begin rolling in and then Himmler’s attempts to create super soldiers would be all the better.
To his surprise, he found Schneider in one of the experimental labs. The man’s daughter—a fine-looking specimen of Aryan womanhood, Himmler thought—and Lars Hansel were both alongside the professor. Several of the OFP’s top scientists were eagerly studying some sort of mucous-like fluid that was held in a beaker. Their excitement was so great that it wasn’t until Himmler cleared his throat that anyone even took notice of him. The man holding the beaker—Otto Luther, Himmler remembered—looking almost guilty as he brought the container tight against his chest.
Dispensing with pleasantries, Himmler acknowledged Lars with a quick nod of his head and then strode straight up to Dieter. “Welcome back, Herr Schneider! I am sorry to see that your party suffered such severe losses but I am hopeful that their sacrifices were not in vain.”
“I have good and bad news, I am afraid,” Dieter replied. Himmler noticed that the man looked slimmer than he remembered and his eyes were fearful and constantly in movement.
Himmler frowned and gestured for the man to continue. “Start with the bad news, if you would.”
“We did not find Valhalla… but we did find something that I think will prove to be even better.” Dieter gestured to the scientists, who were still staring at the strange fluid in the beaker. “I have brought this substance which can be used to create more soldiers for our war. It has an amazing effect on human flesh, mutating it in surprising ways and making it much more durable.”
“Interesting. And where did you find this… substance?”
“It came from a creature called Darhoth. She is an ancient entity devoted to chaos and bloodshed. She and her agent, Vulthar, returned with me.” He pointed towards the creature that wore his daughter’s face. “This is not Sonya. This is Darhoth, the Mother of Pus. Likewise, Lars is no longer with us. His body is being used as a living host for Vulthar.”
Himmler paused, thinking for a moment that perhaps Schneider had gone mad. But he had seen far too many amazing things in recent years to discount the story, particularly if his scientists were that enthused by the substance that had been brought back.
Turning his attention to the woman that resembled Sonya, he asked, “And is this true? You’re some sort of… alien creature?”
Darhoth grinned and the expression sent a chill down Himmler’s spine. It looked hideous, as if the entity had no true conception of what a smile should look like. “I am here to make your kind bleed and scream.” She reached out and touched Himmler’s cheek, her fingers feeling cold and clammy. “But I will give you and your master so much power in return for your service. You will not need fear me… not yet.”
Himmler reached up and seized her by the wrist, squeezing it tight. “You are mistaken. The Füehrer does not serve anyone besides the Fatherland. If you are what you say you are, then you will bow down before him, not the other way around!”
“Herr Himmler,” Dieter whispered, looking frantic. “Please. I know how it sounds but
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