Chapter 3: Bargains and dreams.

"Oh My God! What did happen here!"

Inspector Asmussen watches the crime scene with a handkerchief to his mouth, protecting himself from the smell of a fresh corpse. The image was almost too horrible to look at. The body was identified as James Todd but was mutilated beyond imagination. The eyes were like dug out with a spoon. They stared, not seeing, at a yellow sign with the black number 2. The number 1 was reserved for the tetrahedron in his left hand. Teeth were spread across the room, like someone blew them out his mouth. His skull looked flatter than that of normal human being. It was his 'girlfriend' who did the horrible discovery. The pathologist beckons him and shows him the tetrahedron. "Have you any idea what that is?"

Asmussen scratches through his hair before confessing: "Actually, I have no idea! Maybe some sort of cult. Some satanic ritual? I have really no idea. Pictures have been taken?"

The pathologist nods. His blue gloved hands grabs the wrist of the corpse and dislodges the artefact from the vice grip of its previous owner. He takes out a little plastic sac and put the box in it. "I'll will send this to the lab."

He looks at the box as he feels a sudden urge to play with the puzzle. Without saying another word, he turns around and descends the stairs. A black haired woman awaits him downstairs, the girlfriend of Todd. Her tears had in combination with her mascara painted her cheeks black-striped. She opens her mouth to ask him questions, to tell her story or something else but before she actually could ask him something, he passes her without saying a word. He even ignores her, completely buried in his thoughts. He didn't care if he harmed her feelings, he never liked parasites like herself. What was he saying?! Parasites like herself HAVE no feelings! She was a so called trophy wife. James Todd was a rich doctor of some sort while she on the other hand was an ex-prostitute and dominatrix before she met James Todd while 'on duty'. As the box keeps spooking in his mind, he takes a radical decision. He would be the first to investigate the box.

Later that night, he sits a comfortable chair, gazing the box. He was happy that his children were on boarding school and his wife was visiting a friend. With no distraction, he could concentrate on figuring out what this thing was. Thinking out loud, he examines the box: "What is this box, what are it secrets?"

He wears blue latex gloves, he didn't want to leave any fingerprints on the box. His latex coated fingers moves over the circle in the middle. Bored he presses the circle and to his surprise the box starts to move. The corners start to twist and shocked he drops the puzzle. The puzzle forms a star before returning to normal. A bright light engulfed him and sudden cold shivers his skin. Three individuals appeared from the bright light. "What the hell is going on!"

A man with a horrible disfigured face steps towards him and grabs his head. A cold hand with black fingers spreads around his face and forces him to stand up. He looks at the three cenobites, he never had seen something like those creatures. The female monster looked at him with an unpleasant eagerness. The one whose hands were now locked around his neck had a touch like ices. His neck started to get senseless. The third cenobite and their leader steps forwards. His chain-dreadlocks were draped around his shoulders. "Hell, indeed. Where did you found this box!"

The Arctic cenobite forces him to answer as he increases the pressure on his neck.

"On a crime scene?"

"Crime? Is it a crime to protect that what holy or just unholy? To protect the Order? As a cop you have to understand what that means?"

"You did that?!"

"Indeed. Not that it matters now, you opened the box, summoned us, just like him."

The arctic loses his grip and the cop grabs his gun, pointing it at the leader.

"And now, you want do the same with me as you did with him?"

"Oh no, that was an execution. Disobeying the rules of Hell is a serious crime. Reminds me."

He snapped his de-nailed fingers and summons several hooks on chains out of nowhere, stabbing his hands and forcing him into spreading his arms. The gun drops on the ground. The female crawls towards it and grabbing it.

"We will not execute you! After a millennium, you more likely will hope you did. Like I said, you opened the box, unknowingly maybe but yet quite eager."

The Bell cenobite steps back and leans on the shoulder of her lord with the hand with the gun. The gun itself is pointing at nothing. The Arctic follows her example as he too take place behind their gash leader.

"You come with us to Hell!"

"Wait, is there no other way? I have kids!"

"You're suffering is delightful but your offer is interesting. You shall help us! Three souls for yours!"

"What!"

"Three souls for yours. I believe that's clear enough. We'll let you know who you have to find for us."

"No!" He's shocked by the idea that he have to damn three souls to save himself.

"Then we just have to take you with us and collect these three souls ourselves."

"So you mean does souls are already damned."

"Isn't he smart?" The girl's voice was sensitive and lustful but also sharp and calculated.

"That's right! So we have a deal?"

"Sure."

"OK, let's roll!"

The leader takes the gun his female partner carries. He points it at Asmussen and as his victim screams, he pulls the trigger. Asmussen is thrown in his sofa. Unharmed by the bullet he sits alone in his house. The cenobites were gone but his hands remained cut by the hooks.

This couldn't be real. He sees the tetrahedron and picks it up. He walks to a painting of his grandfather and pushed it aside, revealing his safe. With painful hands presses the code. He places the box in the safe and closes it. Next, he wraps his hands in bandages as his wife arrives. "Hey, honey. What happened to your hands?"

"A little accident." He evades the question and turns around.

"On both hands?"

"You know I'm not the most skilful."

He had decided that he wouldn't mention what happened. It couldn't be real. It was better to forget what he saw. A foolish errand.

As he lays in his bed, he thinks of what happened that day. His thoughts are disturbed by the sound of breaking glass. He stands up and jumps out his bed, trying to make at less noise as possible. He grabs the gun on his bedside and sneaks downstairs, to the sound. There wasn't much light but he was still able to recognize the silhouette of a person. The man had removed the painting and opened the safe. On the moment he holds the strange Tetrahedron. "Put that down!"

The man turns around but still holds the box. The man wears a military suit and has grey hair, combined with a small moustache. "Have you any idea what this is?!"

"Drop it, I say!"

He accidentally fires a bullet at the man who's thrown against the wall. His brains were splat across the wall and the painting. "No!"

"Yes!"

A familiar voice after him. He turns around himself and sees the Granger Cenobite. His hands start to hurt so severe. No longer able to hold the gun he drops it. It feels like someone had driven hot needles into his hands. He screams but was silent. Granger Cenobite smiles as Asmussen's knees give in. "The man you just 'killed' is Gregory Walker. He's the first to be 'collect'! You have to bring the box to him."

"But I just killed him, I don't understand, I..."

"You'll understand soon enough."

The cenobite disappeared and he wakes up, shocked by what he have seen. This was no ordinary dream, this was message. The pain in his hands confirms this story. He looks at them and sees that they have been bleeding. He renews his bandages, thinking of what had to be done. The cenobite had imprinted the address of 'his' victim in his head. He could really damn someone? He looks at his sleeping wife, which gives him strength. They did it to themselves.

The next morning he had a call of the pathologist with some great news: "Asmussen, we have a big problem. The pictures of the crime seen... They are empty."

"What do you mean?" He says it calm, but actually he was delighted by the news. It makes his plan much easier to perform. Without prove of the box, he shouldn't have to find an excuse for the disappearing of the box.

"The photo's are white. Damaged. I don't know how to say it! Do you still have the box?"

"I've sent it to the lab... Don't tell me it had disappeared too!"

And he hangs up the telephone. He walks to the safe, opens it and takes out the box. After a small breakfast, he tells his wife that he had to go. Happy she doesn't question him, he leaves. He jumps in his car and drives to the address given to him by the cenobites. He arrives before a big villa. No neighbours, perfect. So no one should see him. He walks to the door and rings the bell. Seconds later, the old man of his dream opens the door. "Who are you?"

"Hello, I'm inspector Asmussen and I believe this belonged to you? We found this on a crime scene."

The man looks curious to the box, recognizing it as one of Lemarchand's toys. It was amusing to see his eagerness, eagerness to have the box, fighting his reason. "And why do you think it belong to me."

"We found your name on a letter, to bring the box back to its owner. But if it doesn't belong you, I shall have to search further."

"No, no... The box was stolen of me a few weeks ago, I almost forgot that, but didn't expect that he would give it back. What have happened to him?"

"Suicide, we believe. But did he have a reason to steal it in the first place, what is it?"

"Just a probe, nothing special really but thanks anyway."

Asmussen nods and leaves the house. He notices that the old man was looking at him through his shutters and he drives off. Over an hour, he should come to collect the box again. One hour, it should time enough for the man to open the box. Walker looks as the cop drives away. He had to handle quickly. He runs to the telephone and calls Samuel Lemarchand and Roger Grayson. He also tries to call Todd, but he doesn't react. He would be punished for that. He orders the other two to meet him on the base within half-hour. He runs outside with the box to his car. He rides away and quickly accelerate. They had a puzzle! Arriving at the base, he looks around and enters the facility. He walks to his office and pushes open the door. The two men are already sitting in his office."You have called us, because you find something important. Where is your scientist, by the way!"

He takes out the box and gives it the Grayson. The occultist looks at it and gives it to Lemarchand. "Is this real? I mean, is this really such a gateway?"

"The Atlantean Tetramorph. Made in Germany, 1798. It is real!"

Asmussen returns to the home of Walker. As he walks to the front door and looks around. He knees down by a rock and picks it up. "People are so predictable." He picks out the key from the fake rock. He opens the door and enters the house. It's dark inside. Could be good news. He looks around in the house, searches every inch of every room and the result is stunning. The box was never to find! The man neither! "No, this is not possible!" He had lost the puzzle!

According to Samuel Lemarchand, the box was real. "Let's put it to the test." Walker picks up the box as he's surrounded by military elite, a little security measure. The occultist looks at him as he starts move the box. Like all previous victims of the box, he quickly finds the press button. The box starts to twist and move, releasing bright light. Grayson is scared by the lights and flees from the room. He's the only one who's able to escape the room. Chains coming from nowhere, seal all exits. Walker looks as the three hellish travellers enters this world. "Greg, we finally meet. And you brought your friends with you. But this beauty was never meant for their eyes."

Walker looks around and sees how his soldiers were frozen to death. A creature that almost looked human appears between them, breaking two of them to pieces. The third of the group, a woman or something that was once woman, takes the word: "You opened the box but not because you were eager to explore our pleasures. Instead you tried to use the power of the Great Leviathan for world domination. But your goal wouldn't bring order, only disobey the one of Leviathan. And that's something we can't allow." She summons chains who wraps around him. Unable to move, defend himself or do anything else. He's even unable to speak. "But first, there's something else." She screams, shattering all the remaining soldiers. The leader takes over: "Your acts are a crime against the Order! A severe crime! Have anything to say for defence?"

Walker starts to panic as he's unable to do anything. This is the end! Granger smiles at him. "No? Nothing to say. Well the court have decided: Execution!"

The chains wraps tighter and tighter around Walker, crushing him slowly. As the bones shatters and the flesh tears apart till the body explodes, the cenobites disappears taking the box with them as the room collapses.

A hard ringing noise calls Asmussen and nervous he walks to his front door and opens it. No one to see. As he looks down, he sees a little package. He picks it up and brings it inside. As he places it on the table, he curiously opens it and finds the weird puzzle: The Atlantean Tetramorph.