The Truth

Episode III: Redux

(Unofficial Theme Song: "Adrenaline" by Gavin Rossdale)


'This is the end of the beginning but also the beginning of the end. This is a glorious day even if there will be peace just for a little while. But in the end the truth will be brought to light. Something will be done even without the existence of one man, and a group of slaves will be freed.'
EUROPE - 1237 AD.

On a cold and rainy early morning, a horse gallops through the tall grass on the hilly plains. Saddled up to the horse is a bearded man dressed in a robe with a hood. He is carrying a sack made out of fabric. By the shape of it, it appears that a book is inside. They charge on through the grass; no one is in sight.

Finally they come to a large hill. The bearded man brings the horse to a halt, and he gets off carrying the sack with him. The horse stays put as he kneels down and takes a book out of the sack. Then he begins to pray.

'Father,' he said aloud. 'I have written down everything you told me to. You guided me to this hill. As your prophet, I deliver this book unto you if it is your will that it be read by the next generations. Where must I put it?'

The man looked around and saw a shovel sitting next to him. He knew what to do. He picked it up, and started digging. After several minutes he hit wood. He didn't know what it was. After brushing off the dirt, he realized that it was some kind of hidden bunker. The man pulled on a rope that was sticking out of it, and he opened up the bunker. There was nothing but emptiness inside. The man took the book, and put it inside the bunker. He closed the opening to it, and shoveled the dirt back on top.

Sometime later, a boot came crashing through the bunker's opening. Dust flew everywhere. Sunlight now fills the bunker and the surrounding landscape has visibly changed.

'Get me out of here!' someone yelled.

Attached to the boot is a man's leg. Someone has stumbled upon the bunker containing the book.

A group of men and women ran over to the bunker and helped the man out. They appear to be a team of archaeologists. They are wearing dirty clothing, and digging tools and digging sights surround the area. The book sits preserved at the bottom of the tiny musty bunker. Obviously it has been sitting for hundreds of years, and the man who buried it is long dead.

Four of the archaeologists came running over and helped the man's leg out of the hole. The man dusted off his leg and thanked his associates.

'Looks like we've found something unexpected,' he exclaimed. 'Let's take a look inside.'

So, the team dug into the small bunker and one of them pulled out the book.

'What do you think it is?' asked one of them.

'I don't know,' replied the man who fell into the hole. 'But we're going to find out.'

He opened the book and took a look at it.

'Its all in English,' he told his team. 'Whoever wrote this book has called it the book of Haisi.'


Ten Years Later

An elderly man named Conrad Strughold has just landed in a private plane on the coast of West Africa. The engines on the plane stop, and Strughold is helped out of the plane by his assistants. He walks down the ramp way onto the beach and is greeted by a tall African man.

'Are you Mr. Strughold?' the man asked in a distinguished French accent. He sounded kind of apprehensive.

'Yes,' replied Strughold with a German accent.

Strughold worked with an organization that had power over the whole world.

'Excellent then,' the African man said. 'I'm the man you spoke to, Dr. Solomon Merkmallen. I've taken the necessary security precautions as we are under International affairs. I assume that you want me to take you to the site ASAP, it is not a far walk.'

'Right then, let's go,' urged Strughold. He was obviously in a hurry.

Strughold and Dr. Merkmallen walked away, with coast guards behind them.
After a while, they saw four other men standing on the beach close to the water, staring down at something. They walked over to the men and stopped there. They looked down as well.

'This is it sir,' said Dr. Merkmallen.

Strughold didn't say anything back. He just paused for a moment, and continued to look down. Sticking out of the shore was what looked like an alien spacecraft. It was both beautiful and scary at the same time, triangular in shape. Inscribed on its surface was what looked like an ancient language. Everyone else was surprised by it, but Strughold was not.

'Let's get it out of the water,' he said. 'We're taking it.'


Two days later, another elderly man drove in his car up to the White House in Washington, DC. The guard on duty waved him in as the gate opened. The elderly man got out of his car and walked into the front door. On his way in, he took out his pack of cigarettes and was going to light-up until he noticed a "no smoking" sign. But he lit up anyway, defying order. Then he continued to walk through the building, up to the oval office. No one stopped him.

The President was sitting in the oval office, deep in thought. He heard a knock at the door and let the smoking man in. Not even the President himself told him to put out his cigarette. The smoking man worked with Strughold's organization, and their goal was to keep the truth hidden from everyone.

The smoking man came into the room and greeted the President with a sinister smile. The President motioned for the smoking man to sit. Both men sat down, and the President glanced at a sheet of paper on his desk.

'Mr. CGB Spender,' read the President. 'I don't believe we've met before, its a pleasure.'

Both men shook hands.

'You have something urgent to tell me?' asked the President.

'Normally I like to keep my name a secret,' replied Mr. Spender as he took a drag on his cigarette. 'But this is indeed a matter of extreme urgency. There's no time for corrections on small matters. Mr. President, two days ago my associates recovered a space craft on the coast of Africa. I'm sure your aware of this. What you are not aware of is that inscribed on the ship is a text written in ancient Navajo. The matter is been looked in to, but it does appear that the ship is thousands of years old. This does promote the possibility that I'm sure you are aware of - that alien beings created the life on this planet many years ago. The Syndicate that I work for is taking precautions so the public is not aware of this. You can understand the seriousness of this.'

'Yes of coarse!' yelled the President; Fear was causing him to blow his fuse. 'What is it you are not telling me? Cut to the chase!'

'There is a possibility that the aliens use Navajo as their main language,' began the smoking man once again. 'We don't know, and that's not important right now. You are also probably aware that two other ships have been recovered recently with similar inscriptions. On the two other ships, verses from religious scriptures were quoted. But not on this one. The translations take some time -'

'I said get on with it!' interrupted the President. However, the smoking man kept his cool.

'Mr. President,' stated the smoking man. 'Ten years ago early English scriptures were recovered in Europe. It is lucky they were never leaked out to the public. These scriptures are hundreds of years old. The ones on the spaceship are thousands or possibly millions of years old. These are scriptures of prophecy! Do you see where I'm going with this? Although the translation of the scriptures on the ship is not complete, it appears to be certain that they match the ones found in Europe!'

'Go on,' the President told him.

'If the public finds out about this,' the smoking man continued - 'There could be mass panic! These scriptures have been written down by both man and what we would call alien! They were written before our existence! Something inspired man to write them down as well; a force that we would call alien. This outside force is trying to have us believe in these scriptures due to what would appear to be authentic continuity.'

'What's in them?' asked the President.

'The scriptures parallel the book of Isiah in what they say,' answered the smoking man. 'So much so infact, that the writer of it called it the book of "Haisi" - Isiah spelled backwords. The book appears to be blasphemy at its finest. There are verses in it which talk about another Christ rising to power in our day and age. Other parts of it talk about the world coming to an end on a specific date - December 22nd, 2012. Events are described which seem to differ from the book of Revelations.'

'I see,' said the President.

'Of coarse..,' began the smoking man. 'Neither I or my associates have an actual copy of the book of Haisi, but we do have rubbings taken from the spaceship to work with. We do know a lot about what the version of Haisi that was found in Europe said. It is very similar to the one on the spacecraft - almost identical. And it can also be noted that the book of Haisi strongly promotes pedophilia.'

'Then we'll censor it!' stammered the President. 'This won't get out to the public. None of it. Is there anything else, Mr. Spender?'

'Yes,' he replied. 'So far, we have noted one major difference in the two copies of the book of Haisi. Everything is the same, except for one thing - The ending of the one taken from rubbings from the spacecraft. The ending of this version is extended, claiming that the "End Times" prophet will be born on the day that it is found. That makes it two days ago, June 19th, 1989.'

At that very same moment, two parents put their newborn baby boy down to bed. The child has been tucked into a crib in a casual bedroom for a baby.

'Good night, Erich,' the mother said. Then both the parents kissed the child on the head and turned off the light. They closed the door partways after leaving the room, and they left him to sleep.

Nineteen years later, the room has changed from that of a baby's, to that of a nineteen year-old male's. The child has grown up, and things have changed. The crib has been replaced with a casual bed, and the boy - now in his late-teens sits on it deep in thought. It is late at night and he seems very troubled. He can't sleep at night. This has been going on for a long time.

'It's over,' he thought to himself. 'This is the end of the beginning but also the beginning of the end. This is a glorious day even if there will be peace just for a little while. But in the end the truth will be brought to light. Something will be done even without the existence of one man, and a group of slaves will be freed.'

Tears began to run down from his eyes. He tries to fight it by biting his lower lip. Then he took a deep breath and got up and opened a droor on his desk. He took out a gun. He's planning on killing himself. This wasn't the first time he planned to do it. Several other times he tried it and failed, or didn't have the guts to do it. But this time he was sure about it.

Again, he took a deep breath and got ready to do it. But something stopped him. However, this time it was not his will or conscience. Blinding bright light filled his room and the walls began to shake. He fainted to the ground before realizing what was going on. The gun dropped out of his hand and fell to the floor. Ghostly figures, visibly not human, appeared on the opposite end of his window. Then some kind of mystical force opened the window, and lifted him off the ground. His body floated through the open window and disappeared into the bright light.


Sometime later he woke up in a room far away from his own. There was nothing odd about this room though, unlike the force that took him. This place that he had been brought to looked something like a doctor's office.

He was awoken by a peck on his lips. After been out cold for a few days, he finally opened his eyes. And when he opened them, the first thing he saw was a beautiful young girl. She had brownish blonde hair and gorgeous green eyes. She was the same girl who had been tormented by her loneliness. The girl had kissed him and was sitting on his chest on top of a medical bed.

'I'm dead, aren't I?' he asked. 'I must be in heaven.' He had been drugged up and was confused. He reached out and caressed her hair.

'Your not dead,' she told him. 'You were brought here.'

'You look like an ANGEL,' he said. 'Who brought me here?'

'My mommy, I think,' she replied. 'Finally your awake. I've been watching you. I like you. Mommy has some clothes for you. She has doctors here as well, they've been checking on you. I'll get your clothes out of the closet and help you put them on.'

The girl got up off his chest and walked over to a closet and took out a fresh new pair of clothes. Then she came over to him and took off his bed sheet. He was naked underneath. She smiled at his nakedness and both of them blushed. She helped him put on a shirt and pants because he was still too disoriented. Once he was dressed both of them stared into each other's eyes for a bit.

'Who...,' he began. 'Who are you?'

'I'm Karlee,' she told him. 'Mommy said your name is Erich. We should be friends.'

'I don't understand what's going on here,' he cried. None of this made any sense to him.

Just then a door slid open. Erich's eyes focused around this unfamiliar setting. He noticed some high-tech computers around him, and he saw a woman come through the door. The woman was Karlee's mother.

'Erich's awake,' Karlee exclaimed.

'Karlee, please give me a few minutes alone with him,' said the mother.

'But mommy!' she argued.

'Just a few minutes, Karlee,' the mother insisted. Karlee gave Erich another peck on the lips and then left the room. There was a few seconds of silence.

'I don't understand what's going on here,' Erich said to the mother. 'Where am I?'

'You've taken quite a journey, Erich,' she told him. 'Your in Israel. I've brought you to our mansion.'

'How do you know my name?' he demanded.

'I know most everything about you,' she said. 'I've been watching you for a very long time.'

'How so?' he asked.

'I hope you don't mind,' she began. 'But I was monitoring your every move. I saw some comments you made online, and I tracked you down. I know that you are a pedophile.'

Erich looked away from the woman. He cringed. He had never discussed this with anyone, and he did not know what to say to that. What answer did she want? Why had she brought him to this place? To kill him? To save him? He didn't want to dare to hear the answer. He stayed quiet.

'I brought you here to love my daughter,' she proclaimed. Erich looked up and smiled. But at the same time it seemed too good to be true.

'Really?' he asked. 'Look, the last thing I remember is holding a gun to my head. Then I wake up here in what seems like a completely new world.'

'I can't imagine what this must be like for you,' she told him. 'But I took the clues and brought you here.'

'What clues?' he asked.

'When I saw the comments you made on a pedophile message board you seemed like the perfect match for my daughter,' she began. 'I am a very rich woman. I got my "help" to implant all sorts of spy ware in your house. I only did it because it seemed like you were at great risk for suicide. I was aware of your previous suicide attempts and I only wanted to save you. I took a look at the signs from above; I was planning on bringing you here eventually, and not long after I began monitoring you, my daughter confessed her loneliness. It is the same kind of loneliness that I experienced as a child, and the same kind of loneliness that I know you also experienced as a child. Only, my daughter's seems to be more intense. And just days after she confessed her feelings to me, you tried killing yourself again. That all means something. You, my daughter, and I are all very lucky that I had somebody sitting in a car outside of your house at the time you tried killing yourself. My associate came in through your window and gassed you. He took you here to my mansion here in Israel where I am raising my daughter. I home-school my daughter here and we have a large garden where she likes to play. It is sunny and beautiful and you and her could play out there everyday. Will you love her?'

But Erich didn't answer. Instead he was wondering about all this. Was this woman lying? Was this a trick to entrap him? Could everything she is saying be true?

'What are you thinking?' she asked.

'I'm thinking...,' he paused. 'I'm thinking about how insane all of this is. Most parents would be doing the exact opposite of trying to get some nineteen-year old to love their preteen daughter. And I mean the EXACT opposite.'

'Most parents are stupid,' she told him. 'However, not everybody falls for hypocritical hysterias. Not everybody is a mind-numbed individual.'

'Your right,' he told her. 'But your daughter seems perfectly happy to me.'

The mother gave a kind smirk.

'I think you know very well that children have a way of hiding the type of pain I'm talking about,' she said sharply. 'I think that you also hid this pain when you were a kid. Children are made to repress these emotions and they feel guilty about them. I've tried to raise my daughter as properly as possible, but because of the pain in my childhood I've kept a distance from her that I shouldn't have. I haven't been as open to her as I could have.'

Suddenly, the mother paused. Her mood changed and she looked disturbed.

'This pain creates emotional autism in the brain!' She stammered. 'It ruined your childhood and it ruined mine! I'm not sure how long my daughter has spent in this pain, but there may still be hope for her. Please love her!'

Erich looked down for a bit. He couldn't decide what to do. None of it seemed real to him. It seemed too good to be true. Karlee's mother took him downstairs and sat him down in the big kitchen and gave him something to eat. There they sat still talking. Erich watched the lovely Karlee through a big window. She was playing outside in the garden with some birds and dogs.

'What's your name?' he asked Karlee's mom. 'You still haven't given me your name.'

'I'm Elaine,' she told him. 'Elaine Hart. Karlee and I are the last of our family. Her father died in 1999 before she was born. I'm fifty-four now and don't plan on remarrying.'

'That makes Karlee nine now,' he figured. 'I do really like her. I just don't know if I could help her.'

'I know you can,' declared Elaine.

'It's not that I care about never seen my family again,' he said. 'My mother died of cancer several years ago and my father has been an asshole to me. I was pushed around quite a bit by him, even physically. Like you, everyone else in my family is gone. I could stay here, its just...'

Once again he paused.

'Its just what?' she asked.

'This is too good of a blessing,' he told her. 'I don't know if I am able to take something so good. I don't know if I could live with it or get adjusted to it. You see, when I was nine-years old I became very lonely, just like Karlee has. I wanted a lover so badly and the world rejected the very thought of a child having that. I was freaked out by my unguided feelings. By the time I was old enough by society's standards to have a girlfriend, I was too shy and I never got what I wanted. When I was twelve, I had already discovered my feelings for young girls. When I was fifteen I came to terms with it and turned to support on the Internet. For a whole half-decade I've been wasting away. Is all I've had is an imaginary girlfriend. I've dreamed of having a loving relationship with a young girl and keeping her from the pain I've felt. I've talked to adult men a lot older than I am who feel the same way. But I realized how pointless it all is. I'm so depressed now that I don't think I can every forget or abandon the pain I know. Its too real. I can't imagine how many other children our out there feeling how I felt and how Karlee feels. I've dreamed of saving every child in the world from all the injustices against them. I've even dreamed of being sacrificed for them. But its all a lie.'

'Maybe it isn't,' said Elaine. 'You can at least keep my daughter from the pain you've felt.'

'No I can't,' he stated. 'What do you think will happen when she realizes that I've gone through her pain for nine whole years, or that you've felt what she has even longer? What would that do to her?'

'At least she wouldn't feel the pain by herself,' Elaine stated.

Those words echoed through Erich's mind. Finally something made sense to him. He looked up at Elaine and took a look at Karlee outside. Karlee was looking up at the sky, day dreaming.

'You don't have to worry about anything,' Elaine assured Erich. 'You can live here as my son-in-law and I will take care of you. There will likely be a search party looking for you, but I can assure you that nobody will be able to find you here. So will you love my daughter?'

'Yes,' declared Erich.

Elaine motioned forward and put her hand on Erich's. This meant a lot to her.

'Thank you,' she whispered to him.

'No,' he told her. 'I should thank you. Thank you for taking me away from that loveless life. I will do my best to love your daughter, but please understand that it is very hard for me to open up to anybody. However, in the company of a child that will probably be a different story. So, what's next?'

'Actually,' she started. 'Tomorrow I have company coming.'

'Who?' he asked.

'I'm sure you've heard of the Julie Hosey murder,' she said.

'Yes,' responded Erich.

'I think you and I both know why Julie Hosey had to die,' began Elaine. 'And her murderer is coming here. Erich Arntzen, tomorrow you will meet your long lost cousin, Alex Krycek.'

'Oh,' Erich responded.

Once again he was confused. But for the time being he didn't care. His mind was on Karlee.


Later that evening, Erich was walking through a large hallway in the mansion. He was on his way to bed in a room that Elaine had said he could live in. As he approached his room, he heard a girl crying. He walked over to the room where it was coming from, right next to his. It was Karlee's room. She was crying inside. The door was propped open ajar, and he opened it fully and walked inside. He lied down beside her and put his arms around her.

'Shhhh,' he told her.


Executive Writer
Erich H. Krycek