Chapter VI
Kroenen spent a lot of time with his new books. Gathering incredible amounts of knowledge about magic, occultism, and how the world around him was functioning. After a few days he already had filled two notebooks with his jottings, small sketches and everything that came to his mind. His head seemed to work differently now, since he had been brought back to life. Due to his changed appearance, he decided to wear one of the gas masks he had designed a few years ago, when he left his flat in order to buy food or anything else he needed. He didn't want people to recognize him or to ask questions about his pale, starved looks. When he heard a loud, harsh knock on his front door, he raised his head and stared at the wooden entrance. A small, frustrated sigh came from the other side. Kroenen got up and opened, two stern, brown eyes looked into his pinched face. His visitor seemed startled. "I... uh... Doktor Karl Ruprecht Kroenen?" Karl tilted his head. "Who are you?" The smaller, stout man flinched at the hoarse, raspy voice. "My name is Sturmführer Niemitz. I'm an investigator for the GeStaPo. I'm looking for Doktor Kroenen. He hasn't been seen in months now and people are starting to be worried." Kroenen scrutinized him for a moment, then gestured him in. After he closed the door, he spoke up again. "What 'people' are you talking about?" Irritated by the giant stacks of books and strange artifacts, the investigator slowly responded. "The Thule Society. The SS. even the Great Führer himself." he stood at attention. "So, are you Doktor Kroenen?" Karl smiled viciously. "Yes I am. Why would they be worried? The Führer knows that I can be trusted. And if I retreat from public life, there are reasons. Good reasons." The stubby investigator smiled and pretended to take off his head, but the doctor clearly saw him wipe the cold sweat from his forehead. "I never questioned that. But you probably didn't receive Herr Himmler's letters." He pulled out two discrete envelopes with the note 'Urgent!' on them and handed them to the lean surgeon. "What is this?" Karl asked, questioningly looking at Niemitz. "I don't know. This is only meant for your eyes." Kroenen curiously turned the letters around, getting a knife from his kitchen. "Have a seat. Something to drink?" "A glass of water would be nice, thank you, Doktor." Niemitz sat down on one of Kroenen's beautiful chairs. His whole appartement was very nice. Clean, tidy, and neatly furnished. Skinny, pale hands set down a glass in front of him. "I have to apologize for all the books scattered about. Important studies, you know..." The investigator nodded and smiled warmly, watching Kroenen open the first of the envelopes. His cold, blue eyes flew over the lines and his mouth opened a little, revealing clean, white teeth and light rose gums. "... exceptionally proud to appoint you... the Führer's personal trust in you... commandant of WHAT?" Niemitz flinched and became smaller on his chair, when the doctor's eyes wandered to him. "This is real, is it? This isn't a stupid prank?" He nodded. "Of course. Why would I knock at your door every day since September only to play a joke on you?" Kroenen's graceful fingers grabbed the Sturmführer's shoulders. "Hitler appointed me the commandant of Auschwitz! This is great news! Thank you so much!"
This was everything he had ever wished for. Medical experiments without moral or values. He would be able to do everything. Everything he ever wanted to do to human beings. "I'm glad I could do you somthing good, Doktor Kroenen." The investigator stated and got up, ready to leave. "Could I ask one last thing of you, Herr Niemitz?" He turned around again. "Sure, what is it?" "Could you perhaps... not tell anyone you met me here? I know it sounds strange, but it's important... I can't have people bugging me here day and night... and it was like that until some months ago. I want to have my peace. I'm also willing to pay for it. I'm sure you have a family who would be happy to enjoy a nice, long vacation at my expense." The smaller man hesitated. The wages for officials weren't the highest ones and his children had never seen any other country. "But... I can't do that... I can't just lie to my supervisor..." Kroenen smiled at the sadness in his eyes. "How about Argentina? My best friend, Doktor von Klempt, says it's amazingly beautiful there. Or perhaps South Africa? Visiting free elephants and lions?" The Sturmführer buried his face in his hands. Kroenen kept going. "How about this: I'm planning to move by next March anyway. You hold your knowledge about me being here back until then, and I send you and your family on vacation. To the country of your choice. In one of those huge holiday resorts they build everywhere. Nothing is too expensive." Finally, after another moment of pondering, he finally shook Karl's hand and smiled awkwardly at the surgeon's calm, icy eyes. "Well then... I wish you a nice evening, Doktor Kroenen... And thank you..." Kroenen nodded and smiled, guiding his visitor outside. When he was gone and Karl was alone in his flat again, he immediately asked for his master, who appeared right in the shadows unter his stairs. "Did you know this, Master? That they would make me the commandant of their biggest concentration camp?" Rasputin smiled brightly and patted Kroenen's shoulder. "I thought it would provide great possibilities for your research and experiments on the fusion of steel and flesh. And you will have enough time to develop the portal generator." Karl grinned, shivering with excitement and gave his master an adoring glance. "Thank you so much, master. So I am allowed to accept the Führer's offer and go to Auschwitz?" Grigori nodded and turned around. "But there's one thing. You bought this huge residence in Southern Bavaria, didn't you?" "Yes, master." "You remember Ilsa von Haupstein?" "Yes master...?" Rasputin paused for a moment, listening to Kroenen's thoughts and all the curiosity in them. "She will move in there with you. When you return from the concentration camp. She will serve me at your side." With that, Karl's jaw dropped and his eyes widened even more. He blinked - and the master was gone. His heart clenched and painful memories of this one evening came up for a moment. But then he remembered how he had felt around her that night and he closed his eyes, bitterly smiling at the strong longing his soul had for this woman. And her eyes were back in his head, looking at him with all this hunger and desire. Regarding how good everything went since he had been revived, he actually felt ambitious and happy about it. Maybe this would finally be destiny's apologies for his messed up life. And Ilsa would perhaps be his... soulmate. And he honestly wished for it to be like that.
Gathering all his clothes, books, phonograph and everything that meant something to him, he spent the rest of the day looking through cupboards and closets. Some time later, he huffed and let himself fall onto his couch, stretching and resting for a moment. Something that didn't exactly feel like his own thoughts, popped up in his head. "You should go out. Enjoy yourself. Perhaps get a woman for the night... You still look amazing..." Kroenen smiled and nodded in agreement, even though this actually wasn't his way of spending the nights. He would need to be open for change. And this was a good step on the way there. So half an hour later he found himself freshly showered, dressed in an elegant, black suit, dark grey vest and light blue shirt. A dark blue cravat around his neck, tied neatly and firmly. His blue eyes glistened with a thrill of anticipation and he smiled at his reflected image. "Amazing... I actually really don't look like I'm fourty-three... more like thirty..." he thought and touched his smooth face. By the master's magic - he assumed - most of his hair had grown back over night and his pale skin looked simply beautiful. On his way, he grabbed the silver pocket watch his favourite uncle once had given to him. "Clocks are better than humans, boy." he had said. "You can rely on them. Always. And if they make mistakes, you can simply adjust them."
About half an hour later he had found a nice little restaurant and a waiter had given him a wonderful table from where he could see a big, illuminated fountain. Karl smiled again, watching it for a moment, sadly reminded of how his children would have loved this if it weren't for the beasts who called themselves his ex-wifes. The waterdrops looked like a tiny rain of gold nuggets when they fell back into the fountain's bottom. "Sir? May I ask if you have already chosen something to drink?" A tall, slender waiter had approached him. "Suave wine. The sweetest you have. And perhaps a crewet of water." He nodded and hurried away into what Kroenen guessed was the kitchen. It wasn't long until a beautiful woman with a rather sad face entered the building and allowed the garcon to seat her. Her eyes looked tired and depressed, with a tiny shine of recently spilled tears in them. "Perfect..." Karl thought. When the waiter returned with the wine and water, Kroenen looked up to him. "Would you mind doing me a favor?" "What is it?" he glanced over to the woman again. "You see the lady with the slightly sad look on her face? I'll pay whatever she orders. But don't tell her until she is done with her dinner." The spindly, tall man stared at the doctor. "Are you serious?" He nods and smiles again. "I'm going to play magician and cast a smile on that little face of hers..." "Would you like to eat something as well, Sir?" Kroenen ordered a nice rumpsteak with potatoes and a bowl of salad. Licking his pale lips, the surgeon smiled to himself and feasted his eyes on the beautiful, young girl. She had ordered a warm soup with spaetzle and delicious marinated pot roast with potatoe dumplings, now sipping at a glass of white wine. Their glances met for a second, but she shyly lowered her gaze and sighed deeply. But she definitely had noticed his interested glance. She took one of the grissinis from the basket on her table and playfully ate it, from time to time looking up to check if he was still watching. It made Kroenen so horny... He put on a charming, meaningful smile and simply looked at her little game until his dinner was served. Kroenen enjoyed every little bite of it. After all his last meal had been several months ago. He happily discovered that even though the need for food was gone, his appetite and his sense for tasty food were still there. Taking his time, he slowly put small nibbles of it in his mouth, not without noticing when his object of desire received her food, eating almost as idly as he did himself. When she had swallowed the last bite of her roast and drunk another glass of white wine, she asked for the bill. Kroenen grinned and watched amusedly when the waiter pointed into his direction and told her "The gentleman with the dark blue tie pays your bill." Her mouth fell open and she unbelievingly got up and approached the satisfied doctor. "Excuse me, are you serious? You didn't just pay my dinner, did you?" But Karl nodded and looked at her. She smiled brightly and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you very much..." she blushed. "That's just what I wanted. I made you smile for a moment." She chuckled and sat down on the free chair next to Kroenen. "So you just bought me a whole dinner just because I'm sad today?" "Tell me what happened. I'm quite perceptive, you know... And I saw that you cried before entering this restaurant." She hesitated for a moment, probably wondering why she should trust a stranger, but then she shrugged it off. "You know, My mother died a few weeks ago. And some days ago my brother was reported lost in action - he fought at the east front, you know... And now I'm all alone..." she sighed again, wiping a small tear from her eye. "I am very sorry to hear that." Karl lied and softly touched her shoulder with one of his gloved hands. "This war is a horrible thing... so many innocent lifes are wasted... But where are my manners... My name is Karl." She shook his hand. "Inge. Pleased to meet you, Karl." "My pleasure. So... May I perhaps invite you to a dessert and some more wine? I could see you drinking the white one." She giggled and nodded, happy that someone made her forget her bad luck for a little while. They spent quite some more time sitting there and talking. Finally, it had gotten quite late by the time, they decided to leave. Kroenen left more than enough money on the table and they went outside.
While they were walking, she grabbed his hand and put it around her shoulder. "Thank you for this wonderful evening, Karl. You are one fine, lovely man." The slender doctor pulled her a little closer and chuckled. "Thank you. I just couldn't stand it to see such a beautiful young lady being sad. I hope I managed to cheer you up a little." Inge nodded. "Where do you live, Karl?" "An appartement, about twenty minutes from here... It's nothing special... I would invite you for some coffee or a nice little drink now, but that would be rude, I guess..." She pondered for a moment, then replied. "No, it would not be rude. In fact I'd gladly accept this invitation." He smiled and they leisurely wandered back to his flat.
When they arrived, he graciously bowed a little and opened the door for her. "I apologize for the... untidiness. I've been busy packing my things and then I preferred going out over cleaning up." She laughed heartily and rubbed her cheek against his slim shoulder, sighing deeply. "Your appartement is gorgeous!" Inge was stunned. Even though everything looked a little lost, since he already had packed his personal items, the well-spaced, luxurious flat made her interest into the doctor multiply by twelve. He gestured her to sit down on his couch, while he brought a small bottle of clear, sweet champagne and two glasses. She obviously enjoyed the nice view over Munich, looking out of the huge glass front of his appartement. Kroenen took advantage of her being distracted. He silently and swiftly cut his lower arm, letting a little of his blood drip into the glasses before filling them with the sparkly, golden liquid. Over the last few days he had become so obsessed with seeing his blood... At first it had unsettled him. But after a few more, deeper cuts, he had discovered how good it felt to watch himself bleed. He pulled his sleeve over the fresh wound and joined Inge in the living room, handing one of the glasses to her. They clinked glasses and both of them took a sip. The faint note of pain and pointlessly spilled blood added something dark to the whole situation. Kroenen's eyes grew darker and a hungry, lecherous smile crawled onto his face. Their glances met and they stayed like that for a moment. Inge definitely had sensed the different taste of her drink. But for some reason she wasn't able to talk, look away or leave, even if she had wanted to. This strange, otherworldly smile on his face... It didn't fit him. It didn't match the expression in his blue, cold eyes. "Follow me." he snarled, putting the glass on a small table and going upstairs. She obeyed, although she didn't know why.
In his comfortable, warm bedroom, he softened a little, his shoulders relaxed and sank down, his strict, sharp face became a little smoother. The smaller woman followed his motions and approached him, when he asked her to do so. His strong, graceful arms wrapped around her waist and his warm, rattling breath caressed her neck, teasing her with little bites and kisses.
They ended up in bed, Inge's small, slender body completely a slave to Karl's will. He knew he could control her. He knew she wouldn't scream or defend herself, no matter what he would do. First, he kept her calm, trying to... fulfill his needs. To his surprise and dismay, though, he found it rather difficult to get into the right kind of mood with her as stiff and silent as a corpse. Kroenen tried to make her move, but without practice and experience, he didn't really manage to control her body and simultaneously move his own. When he tried to soften his mental grip on her, she slumped on his bed, causing him to bury his face in his hands for a second. Then, one of the "foreign" thoughts popped up in his mind. "Drink some of her blood, give her some more of yours. And ask for everything you want her to do." He tilted his head, but reached into the drawer next to his bed and pulled out a beautiful, shiny scalpel. He smiled wistfully and sighed. He cut her roughly, tearing apart a bit of skin and flesh at her stomach. Blood poured from the deep wound and he lowered his head, greedily licking this new well of beautiful, foreign blood. He felt his whole body tense up immediately and groaned. Blood rushed into his sex and his whole groin pulsed forcefully. Now these were the feelings he had wished for. He got on top of her, raising her numb, but warm hips and tried to grant himself some fun. His thoughts ran wildly, switching rapidly from images of dead people, maimed bodies, self-mutilation and Ilsa. After a few minutes, he grabbed his scalpell again and cut into his upper arm. Pain and arousal immediately flashed through his body and made him moan delightfully. It wasn't the sex. It wasn't the naked woman or his fantasies. He cut himself again, this time deeper. Angry at the stupid woman whom he had tricked into coming here with him, he pulled out of her. Kneeling astride her stomach, he slowly started to dissect her. Tearing skin and muscles off her bones, gouging out her eyes. From time to time, between her now distinct groans and whimpers he touched his swollen, throbbing manhood, covering it in blood, both his and hers. This gave him so much more than simple sexual intercourse.
"That's why you love to kill up to this very day."
His younger self whom he had banished into he void inside his soul echoed in his ears. He grinned cruelly. Back then, when he had tripped his classmate down the stairs... of course it had felt good. It had felt so satisfying to hear his bones crack and the gurgling sound of his last breath... Kroenen closed his eyes for a moment.
But what he now had... was bigger. Better. He looked down on the ruined, twitching remains of a woman he barely knew. And he didn't feel satisfied. Of course, the sight of his sperm merging with all the blood on the bedsheets, his legs and the devastated carcass, pleased him and had fulfilled his desire to relieve his sex drive...
But the state he now felt himself in, was bloodlust. Perhaps even full-grown blood rage.
Kroenen got up and into the room where he kept his weaponry and uniforms. The black leather combat uniform from the Waffen SS. Two daggers. Two releasable blades in his sleeves. His favorite black gas mask. Self-satisfied he put on the black hat with the shiny silver skull. This would be an appropriate farewell to Munich. He would leave tomorrow. But the blood on the streets and buildings would stay for days, if not weeks. And they all would see. See, what their shallow, insignificant society had done to a once respected and admired surgeon.
A man, who had spent almost 20 years saving lives, now stepped outside of his appartement, licking his teeth hungrily. Hungry for revenge. For blood. The master's voice came up in his head for a moment. "Don't hesitate."
This was all he needed.
Ready.
For killing spree.