Darkness II: Richter's Women
by 80sarcades
Welcome back!
Time, always present, slowed as Colonel Hogan faced death once more. He heard the measured breathing of his opponent before a loud crack shattered the stillness of the chapel.
And then, nothing.
Is this what death is like?
I didn't feel the bullet at all.
He took in a hesitantly shallow breath. Then another. Still, he was afraid to look.
Will I see heaven? he wondered. Or will I see... He let the dark thought trail off. Suddenly, another voice broke in on his supposed reality.
"You're dead."
What?
At that moment, he opened his eyes and saw Richter, gun in hand, standing with a shocked look on his face. The American blinked, then again, as he realized something else.
I'm alive! his incredulous mind blurted. Just then he noticed that his adversary's dark eyes were fixed on a point above and beyond his head. Confused, he turned around.
And stopped breathing.
Seven glowing blue figures - all of them women - stood side by side in a line stretching across the small chapel. Dark forms, barely identifiable by the hoods that covered their faces, occupied the pews behind them.
Dear God...
As one, the women raised their right arms and pointed them towards their murderer. The action finally broke the German from his frozen stupor.
"YOU'RE DEAD!" Richter shrieked before his gun came alive once more. Bullets sprayed across the chamber and through the ghostly forms of his victims even as his forgotten opponent ducked out of the way. As Hogan came out of the roll, he looked up straight into the ethereal face of the girl that haunted his memories.
The one he couldn't save.
Despite the circumstances, Hogan couldn't stop the upswelling of emotion that gripped his heart.
"I'm sorry," he half-whispered, half-thought. A tear, unbidden, trailed wetly down his left cheek.
I'm sorry I couldn't save you...
As if she had heard him, the girl smiled. Her eyes, warm and compassionate, met his own. For a fleeting moment a indescribable feeling of reassurance and love replaced the sadness in his soul. Her eyes then broke the contact before they swung slowly, if not deliberately, off to the right.
At that moment the spectral figures - along with the cloaked shadows - vanished from the chapel. Hogan barely had time to process what he had just seen when the earth jolted beneath his body. Richter, his gun empty, somehow managed to keep himself from falling before he rapidly recovered his senses. With a quick motion he ejected the magazine and slammed a fresh one home, intending to complete his earlier task-
-and the ground shifted again. Without thinking about it, the Colonel rolled to his left just as the crack of rock tearing apart reverberated throughout the chapel. The heavy stench of sulfur filled the still air moments before an unearthly light flooded the chamber. Even so, it was close. Hogan felt something large and heavy fly past his head as the seemingly solid stones beneath his body gave way. Suddenly he was on solid ground; he whipped his head around expecting to see the small church on fire-
-and never felt his jaw drop in shock.
The shattered remains of wood pews and torn hymnal pages littered his stunned gaze. Beyond them a gaping chasm, approximately eight feet wide, stretched down the length of the small chapel before ending at the altar. Small fires clinging to the sides of the opening poked their golden heads upward to announce their presence. And as for Hans Richter...
Where the hell is he?
"HELP ME!" a rough voice shrieked. "FOR GOD'S SAKE, HELP ME!"
At that moment Colonel Hogan saw a pair of hands clutching the edge of the chasm nearest the altar. He forced himself to move forward and through the wooden ruins before he reached the desperate appendages. The POW looked over the stone lip to see his enemy, a terrified look in his eyes.
And behind him...
OhGodOhGodOhGod-
A liquid lake of fire, stretching as far as his horrified eyes could see, greeted him. Large golden flames leaped off the bright surface and sent heat waves crashing against Hogan's now-sweaty face as a muted tortured roar assaulted his ears. Oddly, numerous black dots littered the top layer of the glowing lake. It took the American a moment to realize what they truly were.
People.
Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of people. A literal sea of the damned...
"PULL ME UP!" Richter screamed.
Hogan turned away from the chilling vista and grabbed one of the man's hands with his chained pair. Slowly, he inched the German upward...
...just as his eyes caught sight of a new threat. A tall beastlike figure was literally crawling up the wall of the chasm towards them. Even as he pulled, the Colonel's eyes couldn't help but stare at the intruder. The thing had arms, legs and a head like a human but the similarity ended there. A red torso, heavily muscled and scarred, exuded raw power while a grotesque horned head stared up at the pair with fiery eyes. Black cloven hooves on the end of the strong legs inexplicably propelled whatever it was with surprising grace up the rocky surface.
At that moment, Richter's eyes caught sight of the new arrival. A high scream of terror filled the chapel even as his feet desperately flailed against the stone for a toehold. It did him little good; in moments the thing was upon them.
With a powerful jerk the beast tore Richter from Hogan's grasp. A cruel, almost jagged, grin appeared on the monster's face as it whirled the struggling body around like a rag doll before throwing him downward. The German, still screaming incoherently, grew smaller before he plunged into the lake of fire. The Colonel's incredulous eyes quickly lost sight of the black dot as it mixed in with the other damned. Just then, the thing turned a set of burning eyes toward the remaining human. A clawed hand, scaly and powerful, reached out to grasp its new prize-
-and instantly, the chasm slammed closed with a thunderous roar. The sudden movement knocked Colonel Hogan backward onto the stone floor. Recovering quickly, he picked himself up to find-
Nothing.
The chapel was empty.
The altar railing, as well as the stone floor and pews, were intact. Nothing else, save for his shaky nerves, was affected. It was as if he had come into the church alone. No earthquakes, no pursuers. Even the rain that had lashed at the church was gone; only the occasional rumble of the retreating thunderstorm remained.
There's just me.
He picked himself up off the floor. Oddly, even the nauseating odor of sulfur was gone. In its place was the distinct smell of roses. Colonel Hogan looked around the empty chapel and tried to make sense of it all. Just then, a bundle of cloth on the altar caught his eye. It hadn't been there before; he stared at the pile in stupefied wonder.
How?...
Hogan walked up to the altar and picked up his brown uniform cap. His leather jacket, pants and other clothes lay neatly folded beneath it. To his surprise a small silvery object lay on top of the faded nametag. He looked around the chapel once more before he shook his head.
I'm not going to ask.
The Colonel picked up the handcuff key and freed his chained wrists from their manacles before he gratefully slipped back into his usual outfit. He gathered the used clothing and manacles into a small bundle beneath his arm before he walked to the front doors of the chapel. Hogan took a last look at the deceptively calm atmosphere of the small chamber before his dumbfounded eyes stared at the pulpit.
An intact pulpit, to be more specific. The bullet holes were gone. Only the smooth wood - as well as an undamaged cross - remained. In the end, he shook his head.
Did any of it really happen? he asked himself.
Moreover: do I want to believe it happened?
A soft sigh escaped his lips before he reached out to turn off the light switches. As he opened the door, the Colonel's eyes flicked again to the now-dark interior.
"Thanks," he muttered to no one in particular.
"You're quite welcome," a familiar woman's voice purred from the darkness. Hogan, startled, peered into the shadows.
No one's there!
A light feminine giggle drifted to his ears. To Hogan's surprise, a dry chuckle of his own replied in kind before the sound of laughter - his laughter - echoed throughout the chapel.
It was good.
It was wonderful.
It was alive.
Colonel Hogan smiled warmly into the darkness before he stepped outside, closed the door, and made his way back to Stalag 13.
A/N: Richter goes to hell and the Colonel lives...as it should be. This is not the end of the story yet, however!