I don't own RWBY or Call of Cthulhu The Wicked City
Please take the translations with ã̶̡̱͉̜͇͔͎͕̳͚̖͙̘̏͗̉͐͂̑̐͌̅ ̳́̉̋̋͆͗͋͒́̓̀̆̔̑͐g̡̡͇̗͉͍̯̩͕̳ͅṙ̶̡̧͉̭͓͈̲̰͚̹̭̘̜͐́̋͂̀͊̎̑̒̆̕͠͠ȁ̶̡̠̱̖͑̚͜i̴̧̗̦̦̘͎̖̲̣͓͒͋͑̕n̦̘̜͕̼͕̣ ̴̢͍͚̬̲̩̼̮̩̜͐͒̄̔ͅǫ̶̼̣͔̩̖͎͉̼̲̥̔̅̈́̉̐̈́̕f̴̨̜̟̥̙̤̝͖̞̝̲͔͈̱͐̽̑̈̍̕̚ ̶̢̬͔̠͂s̶̡̛̛̘̬̙̯͎̠͇̰̬͎͋̂͂̀́͑̆́̓̕͘͠ͅa̷̹̥̠͖͇͍̞̭̰̰̍̔͆͘͠ͅl̵̨̩̖̖̤͔̩̟̐̐͐̈́̽̚t̷̛͇̫͇͗̓̐̀̍̒̐̍͝,̴̢̤̪̯͍͉́ ̴̨̣͎̺̖̘̈́̎̍̆̂̓̋̉̓̍̿̿̾̒̈́G̵̢̡̜̪̩̠͕̜̒̃̄͆̒̿͌͒́̇̑̒͒̌͝e̶͔̣̖̝̩̲͔͍̞̘̖̊͊̉̉̊̈́̒̑͋̓̉͠ŗ̶̡̛̬͇̭͚̯͓̲̺̥͖̻͂̃̄̐̽̾́̒̇̑́͝͝͝m̷̡̲̩̞̰͕̜̜̃à̷̜͓̪͂̇̾̚͘ň̶̘̭̮̱͍͖͎͙̤͈̖͊̒ ̦̹̭̩̣͎̜̬̭̰̟̗i̶̜̪̻̯̩̘̜̜͔̯̍̏̍̔͘s̶̢̻̯̜̦͍̀͆̈́̂̓̒n̴̨͖̰͕̰͎̥͍̯̼̬͈̦͊͜͠ͅ'̴̧̨̡̫̯̠̜͈̩̬̲͕̾̀͑̇͂̈́͑̈̌̈́̃̂͝ͅţ̶̢̨͉͚̯͈̼̠̳̱̬̼͐̿̊̇̆ ̶̛͇̪̞̰͚͍̮̫̗͋́̍̿͛̆̊̎͆̎͘ͅm̧̡̯͈̣̠̺͙͓̥͍͚̂̍̃̿͂̓̉̈́̔̾̂͐̌y̶̧͓͕̟̤͂̅̎ ̶̛͖̝͖̲͖̣̖͎̱̤̩͔̏́͗̓͐͑͋̈́̏̏̾̒̚ḟ̵̡̣̩̭͓́̓͆̊͠i̵̡͎̮̘̺̮̦̜̩͖̿̊͊̽̊̑̾̅͆̇̂͜͝ȓ̵̡̬͚̤̹̞̰͕̥̲̰̹̱̺͍͝s̷͇̱̠̭̯͕̲̖̦͚͉̋̌́͠ͅt̵̘̘̻̤̫̖̣͇̬͙͂̐̏̕͘͘͠͠͝ ̷͕̘̺̱̮̖̹̩̟͚̝̞̦̠̐̃̈́̂ͅl̶̹͎̜̪̹̟̟͛́͌̒̾̚a̷̡̝̪͚̐̀̑̈́͗̃̈́̆͠n̷̨̓́̍̌̐̿̈́̈̊͛͛̏̚͝g̷̱̩̜̥̩̬̫̑̈̈́̓͛̓͑͌͠͝ͅu̴̢͚̗̖̽͜ą̗̙͈͖͍͙̟͎̞̱̈͗̓́g̡͎̜̳̝͉͙̯̤̋̽͐̏̅͐̍̃͆͜͝͝͠ê̶̩̪͈̞͙͖̙̗̦̩̭̫͍ͅ ̶̢̝̀́̀̎̋͝ä̶̻̠̯̟͊́̄̎͐͋͠ͅn̵̡̯͚͉̼̦̘̩̲̲̎̉̔̌̉͑̌̌̉̃͌͜͝ḏ̷̘͈̼̗̜͎̫͈̜̝͕͓̪̀͜ ̵̙͙̯̯͇̦̓̌̑̈́͆͋̚B̶̨̼́̉͆̂̄̾̾̄͌l̷͇̟̻̰͘a̳k̶̟̳̬̂̽̌̈́͐ê̦͎͊͆́̿́͊̈́͗̂̍͘͝͠ ̴͈̝͕̇̃̈̀̀h̶̡̡̨̡̦̤̯̼̝̜͍͎̼̃a̴̧̗̤͈̬͎̥̹͚̗͍̠̭͌͗̏͊̑͌͝ş̯̣̬̌̓̈́͛̽́ͅ ̶̧͍̯̖̑͒̃̊̃͘͠y̷̨̘̒̐̌͐̈́̄̊̅̒̓̕͝e̶͔̒̓́̽̀̎̉̑͂̎͂͑̏̚t̴̢̡͍̼̫̖̹̬͂́͋͑̒͑̃̀͠ ̴̢̭̙̟͇̠̼͓̯͕̫͈͆̔̋̓̓͆͐̀͝ţ̴̳̪͍̱̥̇̾̈o̷̲̪̥͓̫̤̳̥̲͍̙̍̀͐̅̃͛͋̓̇͘̕͝ ̶̧̞͙̭͓̟̳͗̀̾̈́̃̇͛̕͠ͅle̵͓̹̳͙̖͌͌̈́̓͌ả͕͈͓̖͉̠̤r̵̨̪̩̺̹̯̪̼̤̬͍͙͈̃̓̈́̒̑͋́͘̚n̴̖̭͇͈̞̥̝͍͙̱͓͇̞͌͊͜͜ ͇ḩ̶͙̻̫̥͕̠̦̖̥̖̌͌̈́̆̎̃͌̍͊̿̚͘͘o̷͉̩̮͈̔̒̈́̓̓w̷̢̡̡̲͕̟̼̙̱̭̟̭̜̥̐̈͗̃̒̔͐̾̇́̾̃͛͘͠ ̷͍̦̬̠̑̎t̶̡̙̣͈̺̤͕̼͎̖͓̉̈͛̌͒̇́̀͛̕̚̕͘ò̶̻̪͇̟̳̹̫̹̥̈́̐̃́̌̈̕ ̶̛͚̭̤̙͈̦̱̅͗́̈́͛̀̐̃̎̈́̅̚͜͠s̴̙̜͇͔̱̭̹̄̉̈́̇̀̐̓̇͛͑̑͘͜p̵̨̢̮͚͇̜̞̜̿̏̀͆̋̈́̌ē̵͈̽̑͑̋͒͗̒̓̎͂͋͊̔à̵͚̭̥̻̤͙͈͉̃́͒̊̕ͅk̴̢̲̺̳͕͂̏͌̀̓̿̊ ̴̝̭̰̀̑ͅi̵̧̜̱̼̬̰͔̜̊͂̒̅̏͆̊̐͛́͝ͅṭ̴͈͙͖̣̙̪̠̭̝̘͚̗̄̑̓͜ ̴̠̋̄̚f̶̢̗̪̼̱͔̹͚̝̻̬̼̺͛̃̆͂̉̄͊̒̒̽͋̚l̷̛̮͎̘̈́̄̎͛͠͝ȕ̴̢̧̬̩̟̝̖̤̗̗͌̒ͅe̴̻̘̾̿́͊̓̾̄̊͛̚͝n̴̢̛̥̓́̊̉͊̽̒̄͠t̵̗͐̾͗̂l̵̛̳͌͂̏̓̈́͑̽̾̈́̕͠y̦͙̰̪̝̳̠̘̌͛̐͗͠.̷̢̻̖͓͖͈̺̭̰͉͙̪̫͛̎͛̔̈̾̽
June 24rd 1925
At the safe house, Mitte District, Jagowstraße street two days after that attack
3rd POV
It's been a day since the party. Berlin become a rougher town since that night. Multiple murders sprung up in and around the city. The victims being women and their murders people closely associated with them. Husband, fathers, brothers, friends, clients. Police found them brutally murdered and their killers in a state euphoria. Mocking police before attacking them. However the few times police brought in the killer, they have no memory of ever doing such a heinous thing. The latest in the paper was how a girl was found in the trees near the Red Mill Cabaret. It was that girl she, FEB, and hooker were talking to not so long ago, Lulu she think her name was. She was found gutted and hanging from the tree where she worked. The media has begone to refer to these killings as Lustmord.
As for Blake, she had these strange visions, nightmares of people being murdered and a feeling that her body was not her own for a few minutes. As she came back from the market, hungry for something that wasn't pork. She set down a bag of groceries to make Hamburger Aalsuppe, when the phone rang. She turned to it, before remembering that Caller ID wasn't a thing. Looking around she found FEB, asleep and most likely drunk on the couch. Walking over to him, she pulls out a can of pickled herring. Holding it up to his for a few moments before he gasp awake.
"AWWWWWWWW, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SMELL!" He screams as he falls over onto a few empty bottles of beer. Blake holds up the fish before pointing to the phone.
Grumbling, he gets up before answering the damn phone. "Ugh, who the fuck is this? I swear if it's a business offer, I will crawl down this phone line and strangle you with the fuck cords you vicious Cun…"
"Afternoon to you too you old bastard." The voice on the other line interrupted him. It was Hooker, and by the sound of the background he seems to be calling from a payphone. "Look I'm calling cause I want your help with something. You two seem to handle yourselves and my bureau is held up looking for the Queen in Red. So I'm forced to outsource some help."
"Tsk, and why should we help you? Is it because you want to fuck that Russian Princess?" FEB asked bluntly.
"T-T-T-This has nothing to do with her…" Detective Hooker snapped. After a few moments he reluctantly admits the truth. (Sigh) Alright maybe a little but fuck you."
"Not happening, I'm Scottish not French. Now spill it Yankee, before the hangover kicks in." FEB said as he leans against the counter looking at Blake who was able to hear the conversation with her Faunas ears.
"Well, after that attack I did some digging on the maid. She claims to be innocent with no memory of attacking Ana. Then those attacks happened. So I did some more digging and found some clear signs that all these killings have one thing in connection. Carl Großmann." Detective Hooker explains as Blake now taken an interest in what he has to say. "I'm currently outside Lange Strasse his room is 88/89 at this run down hotel. Will you and Ms. Blake meet us there? I already called ahead to your friend the Mongolian kid and his Swedish care taker. They are making their way over as we speak."
"And what makes you think we drag our sorry arses out to the ass end of town chasing a dead lead?" FEB asked irritated. However he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking behind him he sees Blake giving a look that says, we're helping. After a few moments the old Scottish man agrees. "Agh fine… I'll grab my coat."
FEB then hang's up the phone as the scene cuts to Black. His slurring voice grumbling in the background of the darkness.
On Lange Strasse, 40 minutes later
The scene then open's up on Lange Strasse, Detective Hooker waits with Olof and Ren by the door to the rundown apartment building. After waiting for what felt like an hour, Ren spotted the two turning the corner heading towards them. Smiling Detective Hooker pulls out a cigarette and lights it. Approaching the two before asking, "What took you two so long?"
"Taxi cab didn't want to stop for a nun." FEB explains as he pulls out a flask. "Specially mute nuns."
"Hmm, sounds about right. This ain't Cologne and the reds here ain't friendly with established faiths." Detective Hooker said as he takes a drag from his cigarette. "Now then… shall we?"
FEB rolled his eye while Blake gave a nod. She and the old man followed Hooker up with Ren and Olof tagging along. As they made their way, Ren stays back to have a short discussion with Blake. "Hey, um I been meaning to ask you something. Back at the party… you froze when that maid ran towards the princess. You alright? I never seen you choke up like that before."
Blake looks down in shame for a moment before quickly writing down something. "Do you know how I lost tongue?"
"… No." Ren lied.
"I lost it to a strange event where someone had taken over my body. Let's just say I know how that feels and much less I want to repeat that feeling." Blake wrote before presenting it to Ren.
"Hmm… well… Can't say that I have been possessed but I know that feeling of not wanting to repeat that feeling." Ren remarks as his thoughts turned back to the dream lands. The horrors of past and future after him. Blake gives a solemn nod before the two quickly walked down the hall. They found the three men outside a door looking over a door trying to open it.
"What's the problem?" Ren asked the group.
"Fucking door is locked, and this Yankee won't let me kick in it." FEB explains in an annoyed tone.
"We don't have a warrant. German police are not as accommodating to us English speakers so excuse me if I don't want to spend a night in a Berlin jail cell with junkie veterans." Detective Hooker explains again to FEB with an annoyed tone.
"Uh huh. Yankee being late to the war and brings fuck ton of artillery to shatter the jerry's yet is terrified to even open a fucking door cause what, that would be impol-fuckin-lite?" FEB mocked Detective Hooker. He was about to snap at FEB when Olof steps up.
"Maybe we should try and pick the lock, ja?" Olof intervened.
"Do I look like I can pick a lock? With these hands they sooner bless a cunt worshiping twat before they fiddled a lock." FEB sneers as he held up his hands.
"And we detectives aren't known for our cat burglar's skills." Detective Hooker said with a grimace.
Just then they heard a clicking noise. Turning around the three see Ren kneeling down before the door. He flickered a bobby pin in the lock for a few moments before slowly pushing the door open. Putting the pin back into his hair he turned to the three. "And voilà, we are in."
"… The fuck you learn to open a lock?" FEB asked slightly dumbfounded by Ren's ability to lock pick.
"Houdini." Ren answers simply.
"Harry Houdini taught you to lock pick?" Detective Hooker asked with a raised brow. "Isn't he very secretive about his practice… how the hell did you convince him to teach you to do that?!"
Ren didn't respond but gives a knowing smirk before entering the door. After a few moments Olof gives a sigh before patting Detective Hooker on the shoulder. "I'd say you get use to it… but you really don't. That boy is as mysterious as they come."
He then followed Ren inside before FEB follows after. It took Detective Hooker a few moments before running inside. He has so many questions for Ren. Blake was the last one to follow however upon entering the room she was set upon by another migraine. Leaning against the door she looked around as her vision begins to get fuzzy like an old tv. She could see furniture that wasn't there flashing in and out of existence. The shadow of a figure looking down at a naked woman on the bed. He was holding an axe in his hand and before she regain her composer she saw the violent man give that woman a g̷̨̨̧̡̧̼̗̙̗̬͇͈̟̭̋̆̋̑̓̉̅͂͛́̈́͜͝͠ŏ͓̟̄̽͌̅̀͛̒̃͠ò̘̦̥͈͇̇͐d̴͚̬͎̗̹̤͓̪̦͓̲̱̘̣̼̊̌͆̉̃̌̌͋̕͠ ̴̜̙͈̙̑͛̐̀͑͝4̴̛̝̔̅͊̏͋̈̄̾̈̂͆̄͠͠0̶̡̭̮͇̖̭̱̥̫̰̑ ̡̨̦̠̤̹̜͉͜ẃ̵̺̜̹̯͖̮̥̠̹̺̘̟̊̒̀h̶͖̲̟͕͖͂̊͑̄̈́̽̏̏̓̎̈a̵̢̨͔̙͓̦̦̤͈̘̠̹̔́̎̕c̵̡̨̢̢̛̛͚͎͖̼̻̺͇̰͊̿̍͆̈̐̀̐ͅḳ̵̨̢̨̨̠͙̣͖̠̼̗͙͓͚̔͗̿͝s̨͚͉̻̩̭̪͈̹̖͉͚̉͒̔̓͋̿́̋́͐̒̀̎͜.̶̰̪̣̭̟̳̪̹̭̹̬͗͑̏͒̀͂̃̉̏̌̀̆̈̇͜ ̵̢͖̥̫̦́͛͂̓̍̋̈́̂̀̔̌͗̿͘͘T̵͇͈̝͂̔̌̀̽͆̅̈́̾͒ḩ̷̡̢̛̝̣̟̹̝̤͍̲̻̺̆̈́͐̓̀͜͜ę̵͖̣̘̦̖͉͖̱͙̠̑͜ ̴͍̗̘̯̹̩͎̎̽͋͐̀͛̔͗͒̄̈́̓̇͝bi̶̫̜̭̦͋̒̓t̵͖͙̖͇̤̥͔͈̿̾̽͂̔c̶̡̢̪̣͔͇͖̩͎͐̿h̴̢͙͖̜̯̦̙͇͓̋̒̎̃̀͝ ̶͇̻͔̗͙̘̞̹̳̖͕̠̭̫̋́̏̏̈́̉̽͝ţ̵̧̲͐͂ŏ̧͔̞̭̗͍̗̦͈͆̔̈́̊̍́͂͠͝ͅͅẗ̶̡͍̩̦͎̥̩͚̉̊̇̚a̵̺̪͉̙̎͝l̶̨̛͓̹̫̪̖͈̇͂͐͂͐̂̓͆̓͗́͘ ̶̮͚̮̮͉̝̲̒̽̈́́͠d̶̨͉̗̙͚̄͑̔ḙ̵̢̣̫̠͙̼̘̰̈̉̍̓s̵̨̛͕̉̿̈́͐̅͂̏͋̿̚̚͝͝e̷̢̹̗̦̭̥̹̥͗́͝͝r̷̨͙̪͓̪̠̯̳̪̮̫̈͑͐̉́̃̈̾͗̏̍́̔͘͝v̶̡̨̹̟͉̱͚̂̇̎̊͐́͐̽́͜ę̶̮̫̭̳̂̅̄͑͌̀̅͗͋͘͜d̶̢̛̼͙͎̳̫̟͑͒͂̈͆̅͠ î̯̻̱̺͈̝̞͕̲̒t̵̰̝̬̬͉͉̯̖̬̭̭̖́̈̈́̋̑͛̆͂̚͜.̴̡̡̛̛̰̗͍͔̲̖̯̈͊̎͛̾̿͛̓͜͝.̴̡̡̖̝̺̟̭͎̼͕͎͈̱̀̂͝ͅ.̵̢̧̛̺͙̯̳͕͎̗̰͚̹̈́̍͂̽̊̇̈͊̍̃͜͝ ̵̨̧̢̢̢̡̺̥̘̻͎̯̪̼̒͜͠ǫ̴̦̝̪͉͓̳̯̰̔͂̅̂͆͘h̴̨̡͖̺̣̥̼̥̞̥̝̓̐̉̀̍͗̇̆̀̇͗͗ ̵̛̭̙̯̟͔̩̏̊͗̅̊͂̇h̷̨̹̦̘̻̮̮̞͇͚̙̞̩̊̽̇̇̚͠o͇w̷̧̢̯̞͇̭̬̣̹̭̭̯̙̭͋̓̍̂̐ ̷͉̅̌ş̷̢̻̰̰̟͙̺̗̰̲̺̟̏̈̆̀̅̽͑͊̅̂̇̑̔̋͝ͅh̴̢̨̡̖̩͙͚͇̗̤̫͔̝́̔̍̓̾̃͒̏̎̚̚͘͠ͅè̴̱͕̥̗̒͘̕͜ ̷̢͈̟͈̯͕̜̝̗̝̲͗̃̊̈́͛̚t̷̡̮̘̭̘̖̫͉̙̜̯̒͜ͅą̛͎̦͇͔͉̭̣̙͉̮̗͕̫̀͗̑̈́̿͒̏̄͛̈́͗̕͜͠͝s̷̥̘͕̼̙̘̥̭̘͉̞̊͝t̶̢̡̬̣̜͚͍̹̭̬̯̦͚͔̳͌͐̇̀̽̅͊̑̅̃́̊̓͐e̴̢͎̣̺̙̹̯̮̜͊̽̊̎̎̽̾͝d̵̡̛̘̖͕̻̣͖̺͈̻͖̠̟̉̉͑̿͛̌͐̀͂̎̊͝ͅ ̷̢̻̗̺͍̥̤̠̭̫̤͓͎̬́͝͝m̧̨̦̲̬̠͔̣a̵̙̙͕͔̰̖̻̳̫͌͝͝y̴̨͓̗̦̤͉̫̹̭̫͆̈͆͒͑̐̈́̽̑͛b̴̥̑̌̀̂̈́̊̄̅́̋̈́͆̕͝è̶͖̽͜ͅ ̵͚̥́ẗ̴̡̛̖̼̪̟͉̖̞͇̥͔̑̆̈́̿̀̾̂͋ḩ̣̩̫͕͖̞͇͇̮͔͙̰͜ë̷̩̖̞̼̲̜̺̞͕͉̰̯́̀̋͆̉̄͋͝ ̷̡̖̠̰͕̰̳̗̖̣̈́̎̔̈́̅̃͐̄̃̈ͅn͚͕͈͓̻̦̫̘̬̤̻͎̈͜e͇x̧̤̠̝̞̬̘͉̮͕̗̗̯̌́̀̏͜ţ̷̢̢̧̥͙̮͎͍̲̞̪̦̬͈́͂͋̋̐̉ ̷̢͎̟̲̓̇̾̽̽͐̂̈́̄on̷̡͔̳̰̝̗͑͑ḙ̵̛̦͉̑̂͒͂̚̕ ̴̧̰̩̖̗̙̜̮̳͍͉̄̆̾̈́̓̾͛̕̚s̶̻̩͕̤̳̘͒̂̈́͊̈́͆̎̋͊͑̈̾̈́͠͝h̷̢̛̗̞̟͎͇̫͖̱͈̫̲̒̎͌̈́͒̍̄̔͝͠e̴͓̬̗͍̳͉͋̎̾̎̒̚͜ ̴̛̛̰̯͓̪́̊͐͝h̳̻̰̪̳͍̘̯ͅa̶͎̖̦̟̺̮͓̯̪͚̿̈́͝v̶͍́̊͆̿̃̅̄̀́̓ȩ̶̡͔͍͓͍͙̺̦̹̲̺̍͆͌̃̐̔̎̍̈́̌̓́͂͘͝ ĥ̷̈̍̉́́̽̾̍͛̕̚͜e̶͕͙̲̝̣̭̳͍͎̳̠̝͑́̅͋̀͘͘ͅr̷̛̹̝̍͛̐̆͐̽̄̓̿̀͒̍̃͝ ̵̡̥̠̅͗͋̓t̴̨̛̓̂̽̒͌͂̈́̄̒̈́͘ȃ̵̪͖͉̼̇͒s̷̡͔̬̺̩͖̰̳͇͔̯̯̫͔̪͂̓͆̈́̍̓̿̈́̉̇̓͘t̶̢̛̟͚̥̖̖̘͑̈̎̔̎͐̅̔̆̊e ̶̯͚̲̑́̑̂͆̃̇̀͐̄h̷̛̪͇̪̮̫͊͆̍̕͜͠e̵̹͈̦̠̤̯̼͉̦͔͊͜r̵̢̨̛͖̤̱̞͈͈̲̙̯̟̖͒̈́͗̑̓͝͠ͅ ̶̢̳̩͙̲͎̞͙̙̹͔̯̒̂̋͌̌̆͂̕̚ͅj̨̡̛͚͉̳͓̆̅͊̓̚ụ̴̢̨̢̡̯͔͍̙̜̦̹͆̍͆̏̍̚͠ï̧̧̡͙̺͇̟̭̭̬̣͙̬͍̩̀̔͆̀̉͘ç̧̡̤̥̗̩̘͔̰̆̈͌͆̒͂͜è͙̖̓̔̈́͊͠͠͝s̵̛̮͑̎̓́̿͊̌̈́͗̊͠.̶̥͍͚̦̊̃̽͊̀̀͗̚͠ ̴̯̞͔͖͔̦̠̺̘̈̈́̆͋ͅͅS̵̢̭̞̼̬̩͇̬̭͖͔̼͆̊̚͝ͅp̢̛̠̘̦̜̠͇͇̟̂̊̈́̅͠é̶̮̘̟̟̝͋̓̈͐̉͑̀̐̏̚r̶̡̝̩̜̠͚͑͌̇́͗͌̂͗̃̋̓̓͝͠m̷̰̱̱̪̣̽̔̾͑́̄̐͌̀̅̊͗͋͠ ̵̢͕̣͇̞̘̯̳̹̹̩̒̉͑̑̎̽̕m̷̢̛̭̜͙͓̝͚̮̳͙̤̺͒͋̐̅́̏̐̏͜͝a̴̝̺̤͊̏͐̑̐́̕͝d̷͓̺͔̫̘̱̯͓̞̋͗͒̔̋̊̿̽̄̈̍̚͜͠e̵̢̛̗̖͎̙͕̙̳̋̎͒̌͒̐͒̄̅́̑͋͠͠ ̷͇̳͈͚͉̣̟̅̒͌̀̃̄ẗ̷̠̙͉͒̈h̴̠̼̞̲̳̥̤͗̅̈́͆̾́͠͝ͅę̴̱̾́͆̏̆͝ ̶̢͓͓̭̪̫̘̮́̂̊̓̌͒̎͐͆̽͊̍ṃ̺̮̥̫̪͜ẻ̷̝̰̩̫̮̲͕͆́͛͊͑̓̀̇͋̄̀͐͆͜͝a̴̭͊͐͌͊̍̔̂̿̐̐̆͝t̴̡̡̢͓̜̮͙̱̺̘̻͆́̾̇̓͋̐̊͋̀̈͝ ̵̮̗̈́̾̄͐̈́͜͜͝j̡̢͎̺͍̝̫͓̫̈̉̇̐̃̐͂̓ư̵͈̯̻̹̰̥̼͕̮͇̣͎̺̈́̐́̓̏̑̿̂̿͝î̡̧̘͔̥͙͎͓̝͇̘̰̹́̉̀̕͜ͅc̷̗͎̬̝̙̖̯̖̫̾̀̌͌̓̈͋͌̒͊͆͒y̵̫͊̌͆́̾̀ ̷̗̟̈́ͅw̴̤̪͘h̶̛͓͒̈́̊̈́͊͋a̶̖̰̤͓̓͌͆̒͛͒̚͝ẗ̷̤̠̦̬̺̳̟̼̠̱̒̇ ̵̣̰͎͖̙͓̩̹͇̬̀̑̌̅̽ẅ̷̨̪̞̪̼̠͇́̃̒͘͜͠o̷̠̩̺͇̣̤̎͐̄̉̀̈͒̀̏͘ų̷̢̡͇̩͓̙̪̖̤͐̑̽̈́̅̅͗͋̑́͝l̵͇͍̱̗̟̹̠̍̓͌̊̈́͛̃̑͠d̴̞̾͌̈ ̴̣̾͐̃̐͗̾͐̐̉͑͑ͅh̦̣̮ę͙͙̜̗͍͎͙̮͙̦̟̟͔̂̍r̴̡̝͔̍̇̋̓̿ ̷̧͖̠͕̱͚͔͌̉̕n̵̨̛̓̈́͋̀̿̂͐̅̆̽ȅ̶̢̫̩̠̬̉̓́̎͐̚͝c̵̛̖̟͚͔̩̲̪̑̐̃̆̔̋̈́͐͠͝t̶͉͇̳̼̜̺̲̹͑â̵̯̫̘̤̘̝̰̱̮̓̽͛͂̄͐͘̕ṙ̶̡̡̻͍͔̩̺͚̮͚̤̹͉̲ ̶̱̑̀͆̎̍́̚͘i̶̢̛̠͖̼̣͔̫̺̝̞͔͖͇̎͛̽̅͋̇̓̈́̐͊͝͠n̷̨̖͔̠̞̬̰̣͚̘͚̆̀̐̿̈́̏́̅̓̏͆̓͒͘f̴̢̡̠̜̬̤͈͇̳̬̫̰͌ͅṷ̷͔̟̜͙͌̾̈́͋̉̍̚͝s̵̢̨̺̭͉̲̠͚̈́͌̾̽͗̍̃̓̐͊͠͝ȅ̷̡̛̞̟̝̤̮͍̬̳̼̫͗̐̾̅̇̈̀ḑ̴̡̺͈̙̘͉͙̺̥͗͊̏̋͑͌͂̏̂͜ ̶̧̻͎̠̥̪̣̦̭̳͕͚̄̎̈́̽̊̆̓͋͜͠͝͝f̵̨͕̳̠̲̪̺͙̭̿̉͊̊l̶͇̬̲̻͍͖̞̑̄̏͌͌̑͆͂́̕͝͝ȩ̴̳̮͇̌̀̑̊̀̎s̨̲̖͓̳͇̠̪̫̯̞̈́͊̔͐͒̽̍̓̂͝ḩ̴͈̰̦̰̱̞͔̪̙̳̮́̕͠ ̴̩̰̱̝̲̜̌̈́t̶̺̊a̵̡̢̻̤̙̳̟̖̩̰͙̖̺̓͐͜s̷͎̀̒͊̈͛̂͒̇̈͂͐̕͝͝t̡̰̜͉͓̫̪̭͎̲̝̆̔̈̀͆̕e̷̢̧̹̯̭̹̖͕̯̠͙͙͚̊͛͌̈́̈́̿́̇̽̄̂͜ ̵̨̛͓̣̳̟͕̘͍̬͚̌̅͂͆̔͋̒͆̓͂̎͌̈́̅ͅl̥̝̣̫̦̗͈̺͎̦̃̈́͗̽̐̑̔͋̈̃͆̚͜i̴̛̝̳̣̊̔̏͆̆͒̃͗͛̌̓̈͝k̵̡̢͓̮͚̤̹͍̐͝ͅę̷̥̙͔̜̘͉͚͖͗̄̾̋͠?̶̨̼͎̬͕͚̙̠͉̩̼̲͓̱̅́͛̌̀̏͒͒̉̆̚͘͝
Blake shook her head. What the hell was that in her mind. Before she could dive further into that dark thought, Olof called out to her. "You alright Ms. Belladonna? You look pale."
"I'm fine, just a headache." She whispers before quickly entering the room to search for any kind of clues.
Looking around they found little to no evidence. The Furniture had been removed leaving only a built-in counter and a wood burning stove. The wall papers were cheap and falling apart the rest of the walls were covered in years of soot from the wood stove. The only thing fairly decent about the crappy apartment was the large bow style window overlooking a massive courtyard garden down below. Though the beauty was ruined by the smudge of what one would assume to be blood on the window. As they looked around for any clues a knocking at the door caught everyone's attention. Turning around they see a rather hefty blond woman in her early 50's standing behind them.
"Darf ich Ihnen fünf helfen?" (May I help you five?) The woman asked the group.
"Detective Hooker aus Schwarzholz. Ich und meine Mitarbeiter suchen nach Beweisen für die jüngsten Morde." (Detective Hooker of the Blackwood. Me and my associates are looking for evidence in the recent murders.) Detective Hooker said as he held up his badge to her. "Ich nehme an, Sie sind die Vermieterin?" (I assume you're the land lady?)
"Ja ... aber Sie werden hier nichts finden, Detektiv. Niemand hat diesen Ort gemietet, seit Großmann eingesperrt wurde. Trotz des Mangels an Wohnraum würden die Menschen diesen Ort nicht anfassen." (Yes… but you won't find anything here detective. Nobody has rented this place since Großmann was put away. Even with the lack of housing people wouldn't touch this place.) The woman said as she leans against the door.
"Aw… Nun ja, Frau. um…" (Aw… well, Ms. Um) Olof begins speaking, his German a bit better then Detective Hooker.
"Itzig, Frau Helene Itzig" She responds.
"Frau Itzig. Wir haben Grund zu der Annahme, dass diese Morde, von denen Sie vielleicht in den Nachrichten gehört haben, mit den Großmann-Morden in Zusammenhang stehen." (Ms. Itzig. We have reason to believe these killings you may have heard in the news are related to the Großmann killings.) Olof explains. "Vielleicht weißt du etwas?" (Perhaps you might know something?)
The woman thought about it for a few moments before smirking. "Vielleicht weiß ich etwas ... vielleicht weiß ich es auch nicht. Erinnerung ist so eine launische Sache. Vielleicht können Sie etwas tun, um mir zu helfen." (Perhaps I know something… perhaps I don't. Memory is such a fickle thing. Maybe something you can do to help with my mind.) She says as she holds out her hand and made an a suggestive motion for some cash.
Annoyed by this Hooker spoke up. "Meine Dame, gestern sind fünf Menschen gestorben … wir können bestätigen, dass wir miteinander verwandt sind. Alle Informationen, die Sie zurückhalten, können vor Gericht gegen Sie verwendet warden." (Madam, five people died yesterday… that we can confirmed to be related to one another. Any information that you withhold can be used against you in a court of law.)
"Dann solltest du mich vielleicht dafür belohnen. Was ist die Ermordung von Prostituierten im Vergleich zur Geizigkeit einer alten Frau? Scheint für einen Yankee etwas voreingenommen zu sein." (Well, maybe you should reward me for it then. Sides murdering of prostitutes compared to the stinginess of an old woman? Seems a bit judgmental for a Yankee.) She said with a smug look.
"Du hast Recht ... Es ist nicht meine Aufgabe, über dich zu urteilen, aber wenn ich herausfinde, dass du über Informationen verfügst, die ein Opfer vor diesem brutalen Amoklauf retten könnten; Dann wird es meine Aufgabe sein, deinen traurigen Arsch zu Gott zu schicken!" (Your right… It ain't my job to judge you, but if I find out you are holding information that could save a victim from this brutal killing spree; then it will be my job to send your sorry ass to God!) Detective Hooker snapped at the land lady. She didn't flinch from the outburst but was pulled back by Ren. He pulled out a fistful of Reichmark's handing it to the land lady.
"Wird das ausreichen?" (Will this suffice?) Ren asked as he hands it to her.
"Hmm, Am liebsten wären es englische Pfund, aber ja." (Hmm, prefer if it was English pounds but yes.) She said as she pockets the cash. "Ich weiß nichts über diese Huren … aber ich habe von einigen Nachbarn von Großmann einige … interessante Kommentare gehört. Was Sie vielleicht interessieren könnte, ist ein Schuppen in der Gartenkolonie." (I know nothing about them whores… but I have heard from some of Großmann neighbors some… interesting comments. One that might interest you is a shed in the Gartenkolonie.)
"Ein Was? (A what?) Olof asked.
"A garden colony. Popular among Berliners." Detective Hooker explains in English before turning to Ms. Itzig "Und wo ist diese angebliche Gartenkolonie?" (And where is this supposed Gartenkolonie is?)
"Landsberger Chaussee, am Ortsrand. Kann es nicht verpassen." (Landsberger Chaussee, on the outskirts of town. Can't miss it.) Ms. Itzig told the group before folding her arms. "Wirst du nun die Wohnung verlassen oder mieten?" (Now are you going to leave or rent the place?)
The group unequivocally decides to leave. They didn't want to stay in this creepy place anymore then they have to. Now to get to this Gartenkolonie in Landsberger Chaussee it would prove to be difficult. It was on the northern side of town and it would take them hours to walk. Thankfully Detective Hooker came prepared, all Agents were given access to a company car. And luckily for them he used it to get to Großmann apartment. It would be a bit cramp but manageable in the Blackwood's Brennabor Typ P. The drive was a rather pleasant one. But Blake seems to be distracted by something. She been feeling these migraine on and off again for some time the moment she entered Großmann apartment and the bumpy road the car is driving on did no favors.
Eventually they arrived at Landsberger Chaussee and found the Gartenkolonie. Getting out of the Brennabor Typ P they walked out into it the plot of reserved land. It was… serene. A beautiful plot of land set aside to garden and grow various plants and vegetables. Walking through the garden Ren and Blake couldn't help but admire the dedication to the greens. Reminds them of the garden around the statue back at Beacon. Walking past playing children and fellow gardeners till they found a cabin. Overgrown vegetation, and a dead tree shading the ruined shack. Walking to it Detective hooker found the shack to be locked with a rusted padlock.
"You going to have the kid pick this one too Yankee?" FEB asked.
"Naw, I think this calls for a classic touch." Detective Hooker said as he pulls out an old American 45 Peacemaker. He spins the gun around and gave a few hard taps with the butt of the gun. Breaking the lock.
"Tsk, hypocrite." FEB sneers as he pulls out a flask. Detective Hooker was about to lose his cool when Blake stopped him.
Holding up a note that reads, "Ignore him. He's an asshole to everyone."
"Hmm, (Sigh) fine…" Detective Hooker said as he holsters his gun. "But just so you know scotish jack-ass. A shack owner can't sue for much than an apartment owner. It's not hypocritical to show restraint."
FEB mealy rolls his eyes as the group was about to enter… only to find a haunting sight. Inside they found a massive hall of… Gnomes. Dozens if not over a hundreds of garden gnomes stuffed haphazardly in a pile. Collecting dust as their beady little eyes look on at the group. After a full minute, Olof speaks up breaking the silence. "Med Guds skägg, can this Großmann get any more creepy?"
"Only one way to find out." Ren says as he enters the hut. It took the others a few moments but they found the courage to enter the hut. Looking around, they found a smoker and a canning station at the back of the hut. But upon looking closer they found nothing of interest beyond some mummified bird who had the misfortune of falling into the smoker. Not wanting to let this lead go to waste the group scoured the hut hoping that they would find something. As they scoured the piles of gnomes. As they searched the gnomes, Olof approaches Detective Hooker.
"Hey, so back there in the hotel. You seem a bit agitated at the woman for her reluctance to help. You happen to have a soft spot for street walkers?" Olof asked Detective Hooker.
"What? NO!" Hooker snaps before quickly restraining himself. "No… well not in the way you may think."
"Oh… well you want to talk about it?" Olof offered.
"No offense old man but not everything can be discussed about. Life don't work that way." Detective Hooker responds slightly annoyed by Olof's presence.
"None taken but I disagree." Olof remarks as he turns to see if Ren is listening before whispering to Detective Hooker. "I've seen what holding in one's problems can do. I mean look at Ren. Boy's a nötcase and the things he let slip makes it sound like he went on an entire Saga in his head."
"Hmm, point made about the boy. He looks like an old man Morgan from the San Francisco agency. He lived a long life and lost so much. The boy clearly lost something but he is too short in the tooth to see all so soon." Detective Hooker said as he push aside a gnome. "But fine if you must know, I grew up in Tombstone. Despite the west ending back in 14, that town was still as wild as it was in 79. A few of the working girls I befriended as my sister worked in the brothels. Nothing happened mind you we just talked. Things they told me… well let's say when a girl offers you a service it's not because she likes you. I can sympathies with that alright."
"Fair enough… sorry if I touched a nerve." Olof apologizes.
Detective Hooker nods and the two went back to looking over the gnomes in silence. As they looked, the view turns over the Blake. She was looking in the corner over the collection of gnomes when she spotted something. Pulling aside the gnome she found one with it's back broken, revealing inside a rag doll. Slowly pulling out she can see it was custom made with extreme care… made from cloth that feels like panties. It took her a few moments before realizing something… these were children's panties. Disgusted she wanted to drop this pedophile's fetish doll but for some reason she couldn't. After staring at it for a few moments she felt a strange urge. Making sure nobody was looking she held the doll to her nose and gave it a long quick sniff. Smell was musty but it smelled of C̴̥̼͙̫̘̻͎̋ū̵̢̞͈̯͍̝̻̤̯͈̞̝͇̏̀̀̋̽̉̍́̕͘m ̴̯͈̞͖̹͚͙̖̩̥̬̺͉̦͉̺̄̀̽̂͌̉̉̒̃̎̇̀̽̒̓̎̚͜s̵̡̡̛̝̞͆̈́̋͒̋̿o̶̝̟̲̙͙̦̤͈͋̃̔̋̔͋̃̅͆̌̽̉͛͑̚͘̕͠a̷̡͎̝̟̝̺̗̟̅̑̄̇͒̃̕̕͜͠k̶̛̤̩̯̾͋̂̄̂̒͑̌͑̇̈̑͌͠é̶̢̝̫̼̜͎̹͚͈̘̯͖͎̥́͊̎͑̋̂̈́̋̽̀͌͑̒͘̕̕͜͠d̻͇̘̰͓̩͚̙͕͖̯̺̈ ̴̨͖̗̦͙͖̭̬̬̲͚͙͐͊͛͌̊͋͛̍c̡͉͕͓̙͍͇̦̩̹̠̹̣͖̯̯̠̋͑͆͑̋͒̀̒̊̓͋̃͛̊̕͘̚͠ḩ̵̢̡̙͕̞͙͖̃í̶͇͙̦̯͔͇̩̽̀͌̒̒̕l̶̢̨̮͓̰̄̉̄̈̆̆̔͐͑̐͝͝͠͝ḍ͖̩̣̂̑̌̋̌̆r̵̡̢̖̣̣͖͓͎̙̀̐̐̂̇̌́̈́̃͌̂̃̕̕̚͝ę̰̜͇͎̠̮͚̫͖̪͚͔̯̲̹͍̱̈̂͝ͅǹ̡̡͙͍̩̠̮̞̖̝̦̥͈̹̮̦̮̈́̀̈́͌̆͘͜ ̵̢̲̜̦̖͓̀́̈́̊̌̑̇̈́̌̓̈̀͝m̵̢̡̡͎̻̙̦̹̫̹̹̫̝̓͂͜y̴̧̧̬̣̠͙̙͎͖͖͉̝̯̱̯̱̥̾̇̈́͛́́͌̽ͅ ̨̙̯̟̦͉͕̦̮͕̞̼͓̆͗͋̒͑͛̀͐̒̓̈́͛͜͝͝ͅf̶͙͓͚̖̥͂̈́̈́́́̃̈́̏̈͊̍͝͝a̷̰̺͐͋̌v̴̨̧͖̟̝̼̔̍̑̑͋̈́̐̏̽͋̄͘͘̕͠ơ̵̢̲̜̗̖͔̻̱̠͇̝̜̈́̿́̍͛̋̔̅r̷̨̧̨͈̘̱̩͉̳͙̳̘̳̠̺͚͈̚͝i̴̛̯̬̪͕͛̐͛͗̍͋̅͠͝t̴̻͂͋̒̓̕e̷̛̬̯͋͐̍͝
Pulling back with that thought, she was interrupted by a loud voice from outside.
"Wer auch immer drin ist! Komm jetzt raus!" (Whoever's inside! Come on out now!) An angry woman shouted catching everyone's attention. Quickly deciding to handle this, Blake quickly stashed the doll in her robes. Unaware that Ren had saw her sniffing that doll.
Outside they find an elderly woman in her 70's beside a nun roughly Blake's age. In an agitated tone she points her walking stick at Detective Hooker. "Was denkst du eigentlich, was Du hier machst?! Dieser verdammte Ort sollte niedergebrannt und nicht von Souvenirjägern durchsucht warden." (What do you think you're doing?! That damned place should be burned, not scoured by souvenir hunters.)
"Begnadigung?" (Pardon?) Detective Hooker asked with a raised brow.
"Die Hütte, die du betreten hast. Es gehörte einst einem verräterischen Mann. Frau Pagenkopf versucht, Menschen von Erinnerungsstücken fernzuhalten, aus Angst, es handle sich dabei um Serienmörder." (The shack you entered. It was once owned by an insidious man. Ms. Pagenkopf try's to keep people away out of fear they are Serial killer memorabilia.) the nun explains in a more level headed tone.
"Und wer… Fotze, sind?" (And who… cunt, are?) FEB struggled to say causing the old woman to gasp while the nun looked at him with shame.
"Schwester, Schwester Alice Evans." (Sister, Sister Alice Evans) the woman said before speaking in English. "And do refrain from cursing. Unlike us Anglo Brit's the Germans don't tolerate crude language from the Scottish."
"Oh god not another limey bastard." FEB cursed under his breath.
"Oh, so your English. The hell you doing here in Berlin?" Detective Hooker asked.
"Well my American friend I assume I'm here for the same reason as your nun." Sister Evans explains as she points to Blake. "You also a member of the RKK as well?"
Blake gives a nod before writing on a piece of paper. Holding it up it reads, "Yes I just only arrived. Couldn't make it to my post due to recent murders that I agreed to help with."
Looking at the paper, Sister Alice begins moving her hands in a strange way. Curious FEB asked, "The fuck your doing? Trying to flick the clitoris of that big old cunt in the sky?"
"Sign language Scotsman. Ever heard of it outside your bottle?" Sister Evans snapped at him. He responds with a middle finger as he pulls out a flask. Before this get's out of hand Blake steps in.
"Ignore him he's like this with everyone." The note Blake wrote reads.
"Trust me… everyone." Detective Hooker adds putting empathis on FEB being an asshole.
With the tension's calming down, Olof finally speaks up. "Um, Tut mir leid, aber Sie haben über diesen Schuppen gesprochen, als hätten Sie diesen Großmann getroffen. Können Sie uns zufällig etwas über ihn erzählen? Wir glauben, dass diese jüngsten Morde miteinander verbunden sind." (Um, sorry about this but you talked about this shed like you met this Großmann. By chance you can tell us anything about him? We believe these recent killings are connected to one another.)
"Ja... ich habe ihn getroffen. Viele unangenehme Zeiten. Wenn Sie weit von diesem Schuppen entfernt sind, beantworte ich gerne Ihre Fragen." (Yes… I met him. Many unpleasant times. If it get's you lot away from that shed I'll be happy to answer your questions.) Ms. Pagenkopf said begrudgingly. Agreeing the three asked as Blake and Ren stayed back to have a private conversation with Sister Evans. She seems rather interested in Blake.
"So, how is London? It's been about two years since I last saw old London town." Sister Evans asked.
Blake made a hand motion before writing, "It's recovering. Mr. Churchill had some problems with some boys out in Birmingham. But otherwise I think the British Legion just opened a school dedicated to a veteran."
"Churchill? Hmm, bloated man but I've heard some better things… if you ignore Ireland." Sister Evan said in a harsh tone. "Sorry politics abroad shouldn't take president."
Blake motioned her hand gesturing that it was fine. Noticing this Sister Evans made an offer. "How long have you been… well please stop me if I'm being rude here. But…"
"She didn't loss her tongue in the war or the blitz." Ren spoke up. "She lost it in an accident."
"Oh, I'm sorry. How long ago?" Sister Evan asked. Blake responds by raising a single finger. "One day… week, month, year?"
She shook her head to side before stopping to shaking yes when Sister Evan said year. Seeing this Sister Evan made an offer. "Well, when you have the free time, perhaps I can teach you sign language? Might be easier than speaking with a pen and paper."
Blake thought about it for a moment. Might be convenient for her especially since she could be more discreet then with paper. Only down side was that she would be like that ice cream colored psychopathic mute. She wrote on her paper, "I'd like that."
Sister Evan gave a warm smile that Blake couldn't help but think of Yang's warm smile. It gave her a slight pang of conscious as she has yet to hear any word about Yang's whereabouts. Just then FEB called over to the two.
"Oy! We're going now! We got one last lead to follow up!" FEB shouted before taking a hit from his flask.
"(Sigh) Suppose this is goodbye for now… but it was nice to meet you Sister… oh, sorry I don't believe I got you or your friends name. The skinny one not the Scotsman." Sister Evan said to which FEB said 'Fuck you limey.' As he passed by her to the car.
Blake quickly wrote down on her paper. "It's Blake Belladonna."
"I'm Lie Ren, but please call me Ren. Vietnamese custom to have last name first." Ren followed up behind Blake's note.
"Ren and Sister Belladonna. A pleasure to meet both of you. God speed with two." She said with a smile. The two give a nod before FEB is heard honking the horn.
"LET'S GO ALREADY!" FEB screams from the car. Embarrassed Blake and Ren quickly walk to the old Brennabor Typ P as the scene cut's to black
At the Rote burg a few hours later
The scene opens up on Rote Burg. The Red Castle. Originally a town house it was made the police station at the beginning of the 20th century. It's the second biggest building in Berlin and holds the records that might put a nail in this bizarre murder spree. What little information Detective Hooker, FEB, and Olof got from Ms. Pagenkopf. Großmann would regularly use the shed as a butcher station or a love nest. Girls brought out there were abused more so than the ones at home. Ms. Pagenkopf. Would often times offer shelter to the women who were beaten by Großmann. Though seeing they were all whores she had some… hesitation. She was raised catholic in Colone and the bible didn't look so friendly on prostitutes. None the less the bible didn't cover instructions on what to do about a monster like Großmann. Worse was his behavior to children. While he would often sneer and curse adults especially women, he seems to be soft and gentle around children. Often offering them sweet meets, candies, and toys. Trying to get them into his shed. Local families begin instructing their kids to avoid Großmann like he was plague. The last he saw him was when he was selling a huge shipment of meats. Hundreds of canned meats and smoked sausages that he said was pork were sold to hundreds of restaurants across Berlin. Curious about where he could get such a stockpile there was one lead that might answer were.
Inside the Rote Burg, the group waited outside an office. That was till the door open. In steps a man in his mid 50's who looked like hell had raised him up. His black hair nearly white and had thinned to the point that it looked like a combover, eyes sleep deprived and baggy with blood shot exhaustion. His clothes is shabby and dusted with cigarette ash. He seemed to be a pack smoker as he smelled heavily of cheap cigarette. Taking a deep drag he discard his cigarette and pulled out a second one.
"Polizeiinspektor Krieg. Mir wurde gesagt, dass du mich sehen wolltest?" (Police Inspector Krieg. I was told you wanted to see me?) The old man said as he strikes a match to light his cheap cigarette.
"So ähnlich. Wir untersuchen Großmann-Morde." (Something like that. We are looking into Großmann killings.) Detective Hooker explains as he shows his Blackwood agency badge. "Wir haben eine Theorie, dass diese jüngsten Morde zusammenhängen." (We have a theory these recent killings are connected.)
"Hmm… Eine Nonne, ein Landstreicher, ein Matrose und ein Entlassungsbeamter aus dem Krankenhaus … eine interessante Gruppe, die Sie unter sich behalten, Detektiv." (Hmm… a nun, a hobo, sailor, and a hospital discharge… interesting group you keep with yourself detective.) Inspector Krieg remarks as he takes a seat.
"Sie kennen uns schwarze Wälder Agenten. Wir sind mit unserer Untersuchungsmethode unberechenbar." (You know us Blackwood agents. We are unpredictable with our investigation method.) Detective Hooker said with a shrug.
"Ja, Ernst Gennat selbst war von Ihrer Flexibilität am meisten beeindruckt." (Yes, Ernst Gennat himself was most impressed by your flexibility.) Inspector Krieg said as he offered Detective Hooker a smoke. He politely refuses while FEB bums one off the Inspector. "Dennoch bin ich neugierig auf Ihren Hinweis. Haben Sie etwas dagegen, näher darauf einzugehen? Um ehrlich zu sein, geht die aktuelle Theorie von Nachahmermördern aus, aber selbst dann ist die Methodik dieser Mörder … unangenehm vertraut mit der Originalarbeit von Großmann." (But all the same I'm curious about your lead. Mind going into details on it? Truth be told the current theory is copycat killers but even then, the methodology of these killers is… uncomfortably familiar to the original Großmann work.)
"Oh? Und wie so, Inspektor?" (Oh? And how so Inspector?) Detective Hooker asked. Inspector Krieg goes silent for a few minutes, taking a drag from his cigarette with blank eyes. He let's out a long exhale before telling them.
"Ich war dabei... als wir den Bastard erwischten. Er war gerade dabei, ein junges Mädchen mit einer Axt zu zerstückeln. Als wir ihn zu Boden warfen, leistete er keinen Widerstand, selbst als unsere Jungs ihn um Haaresbreite schlagen wollten. Er hatte einfach... hatte dieses schreckliche Lächeln, als hätte er es sich gewünscht." (I was there… when we caught the bastard. He was in the middle of carving up a young girl with an axe. When we tackled him to the floor he didn't resist, even when our boys wanted to beat him within an inch of his life. He just had… had this awful smile like he wanted this.) Krieg said before taking another long drag. "Der Tag seiner Gerichtsverhandlung war einer der wenigen Tage, an denen ich hier glücklich war. Dieser Bastard wurde wegen dreier Mädchen im Alter zwischen 14 und 19 Jahren verurteilt. Seine Hände sind mit dem Blut von hundert, wenn nicht zweihundert Frauen und Kindern getränkt. Natürlich konnten wir das nie beweisen, da er eine Methode hatte, die Leichen zu beseitigen." (The day of his court trial was one of the few times I was happy here. That bastard was convicted of three, three girls between the ages of 14 and 19. Personally his hands are soaked in the blood of a hundred if not two hundred women and children. Course we could never prove this as he had a method of disposing the bodies.)
"Und was wäre das, Inspektor?" (And what would that be Inspector?) Olof asked with some morbid curiosity.
"… Wir fanden heraus, dass der Mann seinen Lebensunterhalt mit dem Verkauf von Fleisch durch verschiedene Geschäfte mit Verbündeten verdient hatte. Da die Wirtschaft der Stadt ruiniert war und es an geeigneten Restaurants und Märkten mangelte, waren die Menschen gezwungen, zu nehmen, was sie kriegen konnten. Es dauerte nicht lange, bis uns klar wurde, dass die Fleischsorten, die er als Schweine- und Rindfleisch ausgab, die Opfer waren." (… We found the man had been making a living selling meats through various back ally deals. With the city's economy in ruin and the lack of proper food restaurants, markets, and people were forced to take what they can get. It didn't take long till we realize the meats he's been passing off as pork and beef was the victims.) Inspector Krieg explains causing a groan from everyone present in discuss. However, Ren can see it in Inspector Krieg's eyes. If the idea was disturbing imagine how much worse, it would be to see this in real life. As Inspector Krieg takes a drag from his cigarette, he further laments, "Es wäre ein Skandal gewesen, wenn diese Information ans Licht gekommen wäre. Aber die Chefs entschieden sich dagegen. Hätte eine Panik ausgelöst und Tausende wären verhungert. Also haben wir geschwiegen … diese Dosen wären hoffentlich inzwischen nicht mehr im… Umlauf." (Would have been quiet a scandal if this information got out. But the brass decided against it. Would have caused a panic and thousands would starve. So we kept quiet… by now those can's would be out of circulation… hopefully.)
"Das ist scheiße." (That's fucked.) FEB blurts out nearly losing his free cigarette.
"Hmm… ja, aber willst du den gruseligsten Teil wissen?" (Hmm… yeah but do you want to know the creepiest part?) Inspector Krieg said before taking another long drag. "Als wir ihn wegbrachten, sagte er etwas, bevor man ihn zu Boden brachte. Ich erinnere mich noch genau an diese Worte, denn es waren die letzten Worte, die er zu irgendjemandem sagte, bevor er sich ein paar Stunden später umbrachte. „Jetzt habe ich jede einzelne Runde." (When we were taking him away, he said something before he was brought down to hold. I remember these words vividly as it was the last words he said to anyone before he killed himself a few hours later. 'Now I have every single turn.')
The room goes quiet as those words instilled a feeling of dread. That phrase was cryptic yet it sound to coherent to be a mad raving. After a few uncomfortable moments Blake wrote a message on her note pad before holding it up.
"Was meinte er damit? Ich kann nicht sagen, warum das Papier." (What did he mean by that? I can't speak hence why the paper.) Blake scribbled message reads.
Inspector Krieg takes one last drag before pulling out a book he had brought up from evidence. A red leather-bound book with loose leaf pages crammed inside. Flipping it open he points to a page with terrible handwriting, strange lettering, and weird symbols. Inspector Krieg goes on to explain, "Dies ist sein persönliches Tagebuch. Der Nagel im Fall Großmann. Die meisten seiner Schriften sind inkohärent und werden für eine Art Code gehalten. Das Wenige, was wir dabei herausholen können, umfasst Rezepte für Landjäger, Thüringer, Knackwurst, Weißwurst und ein Dutzend anderer Würste. Eine Liste von Namen, von denen wir annehmen, dass sie Opfer sind oder potenzielle Opfer waren. Und ein seltsames Brettspiel, an dem er offenbar arbeitete." (This is his personal journal. The nail in the Großmann case. Most of his writings is incoherent and believed to be some kind of code. What little we can get from this includes recipes for Landjäger, Thüringer, Knackwurst, Weißwurst, and a dozen other sausages. A list of names we assume to be victims or those who were potential victims. And a strange board game he seemed to be working on.)
"Ein Brettspiel?" (A board game?) Olof asked with a raised brow.
Inspector Krieg flips the page to the middle section. It was even more confounding then the first page showed. Detailing some kind of strategy and movement pace. Down right confusing however there were symbols and letters that didn't look remotely German. However of the five only two knew what they were.
"Das ist henochisch. Eine Sprache, die in vielen okkulten Kreisen verwendet wird." (That's Enochian. A language used in many occult circles.) Detective Hooker said as he points to a few of the words written on the side.
"Kannst du es übersetzen?" (Can you translate it?) Inspector Krieg asked Detective Hooker.
"Nein, ich erkenne nur die Sprache aus früheren Fällen." (No, I just recognize the language from previous cases.) Detective Hooker explains.
"Ich kann nicht, aber diese Runen sind nicht henochisch. Es ist eine ältere Sprache, R'yehian." (I can't but these runes are not Enochian. It's an older language, R'yehian.) Ren said pointing to another rune that looked more like a doodle.
"R'yehian? Ich habe noch nie von einer solchen Sprache gehört." (R'yehian? Never heard of such a language before.) Inspector Kreig said with a raised brow.
"Es ist sehr alt, älter als Sumerisch, manche sagen, älter als der Mensch selbst." (It's very old, older then Sumerian, some say older then man itself.) Ren remarks as he traces the hieroglyphics. "Ich kann diesen Teil übersetzen. Vielleicht eine grobe Übersetzung, aber das ist eine schwierige Sprache. Ph' bug bthnkor ah'hri nilgh'rinahh" (I can translate this bit. May be a rough translation but this is a difficult language. Ph' bug bthnkor ah'hri nilgh'rinahh)
"The fuck that means?" FEB asked bluntly having no idea what Ren said in both German and that strange language.
"Es bedeutet: Gehe über das Fleisch hinaus und folge den Stücken." (It means: Go beyond the flesh follow the pieces.) Ren said before turning to the FEB. The group was stunned that this pedophile would have the knowledge of a dead language much less write multiple pages in it. However, Detective Hooker was more interested in Ren's ability to speak the language. He was told that if anybody showed any suspicious activity like this, he was to report to the head of the nearest Blackwood agency. He decided to set that aside for now. The group watches as Ren flips through the pages before Detective Hooker stops him.
"Hey, hör mal kurz auf. Sind das die Namen der Opfer?" (Hey stop there for a moment. Are these the names of the victims?) Detective Hooker asked as he points to a bracket with multiple names on it.
"Ja, ungefähr hundert Mädchen sind hier angemeldet. Wir glauben, dass er den Überblick über jedes Mädchen hatte und selten beim ersten Mal tötete. Diese X stehen für die Mädchen, die ihm irgendwie entkommen sind." (Yes, about a hundred girls have been logged in here. We believe that he kept track of each girl, rarely ever kill on the first time. These X's represent the girls that somehow escaped him.) Inspector Krieg explains as he points to the names marked with an X. As they looked over the names they soon recognized a pattern. Some of these names had appeared in the paper yesterday, the victims of the latest Lustmord. Each one had an X by it, with one name being the most prominent. Franziska Schamzkovkas, the Russian princes or her alias. It then dawned upon Detective Hooker that all these killings are targeting those who got away from Großmann victims.
Realizing this Detective Hooker stands up. "Vielen Dank für Ihre Zeit, Inspektor, aber ich muss dringend anrufen. Macht es dir was aus wenn ich?" (Thank you for your time Inspector, but I need to make an urgent phone call. Do you mind if I?)
Inspector Krieg gave a nod and points to the one in the lobby. Detective Hooker quickly races down to the phone leaving the others confused by this sudden revelation they had yet to realize themselves. The gave their thanks to Inspector Krieg before rushing after Detective Hooker. They found him in the booth, making a phone call. Waiting to find out Olof whispers to Ren.
"Any idea what the Yankee is thinking? He seemed spoke by that list." Olof whispers to Ren.
"Those murder victims. They were all Großmann would be victims." Ren explains to Olof in a hush tone. "But that's not what is terrifying, those runes, the few that I could read they detail what looks to be a Consume likeness spell of sorts."
"A what? Spells?" Olof asked with a raised brow.
"It's called a spell cause the method of how it's done is far too complex to explain." Ren states before continuing. "It's been heavily modified though using some kind of taboo as an anchoring system so that even in death Großmann can still find those who got away."
"Tsk, a serial poltergeist? You must be joking." Olof said with a chuckle at how absurd this sounds. However, a mixture of what he had seen as of the past three years ghosts wouldn't be that much of a stretch. "Oh, Med Guds skägg och djävularnas röv, your serious."
"Sadly yes… but I still haven't figured out what is anchoring Großmann. For this to work you typically need some piece of a person like blood or hair to do this. This spell has been inverted meaning the unwitting victims consume his likeness. I am not so sure how he managed to do this. It's not like he got thousands of Berliners to eat his hair." Ren explains. The two then pounder on that when they were interrupted by Detective Hooker. He was cursing as he hits the booth with his fist before slamming down the earpiece into the holder. Pushing out with a distressed look on his face.
"Who the fuck pissed in your coffee?" FEB asked Detective Hooker.
"It's Anastasia, I called Prince Gabriel Constantinovich to check up on her… she's gone. She is nowhere to be seen." Detective Hooker explains in a brief moment of calm before quickly storming off to the car. The group looked at one another with worried faces before rushing after him as the scene comes to a sinister close.
The scene opens up on a stage. Deserted of all. There was an air of discontent, as though something off about this. The stage was wrapped in a thick fog. When suddenly one could hear the ominous click of heels. As the sounds get louder one's own senses begin to shudder with a strange mixture of anticipation and fear. After a few moments a striking woman emerges from the shadows. Her Beauty was beyond detail, her pale skin and Raven hair would draw men to kill in her name. All while wearing a seductive red dress that would drive men in a seductive frenzy of insatiable appetites of her blood crimson lips.
Taking the microphone, she spoke in a voice that would make Aphrodite's curse In jealousy. "Grüße ihr Kleinen, unfortunately our host of this broadcast is… indisposed at this time. Normally one of the thespian's or associates of the Kohle Maske eins would read your reviews but I'm curious to see what this fuss is about being on stage. And it's been far too long since my last spotlight, I've only been mentioned once this whole arc and it would be a damn shame if you miss out on my appearance? Now let us begin, as command by The Queen in Red, Mwa."
With a flicker of her hand a rose appeared. Reaching into it's petals she pulled out a red velvet letter. One by one till she had 5 letters. Starting from the first she read the comments and questions.
Aus Fastestguninthewest: Aw, so you're still sending quotes despite what that my unwitting liberator did to your knees. Very well what next quote would you like to use in the next chapter. I promise I'll pass it on, dumme kleine kleine Waffe.
Danke für's schreiben Fastestguninthewest
Aus Black Cross0: oh it seems. Sorry but it's hard to keep track with time. You all seem to whittle away so quickly.
Aw yes, Lie Ren. I admit I had my fun with Herr Randolph Carter… but little Renny was so full of emotion. All stowed away behind that façade of Stoicism… until I caused him to burst that night beneath the setting moon. Never really was one for Gingers but I'll admit it was worth it. Seems his hesitation of knowing is Truely showing. Good, never did like a tattle tale.
Frau Belladonna, the one who got away… she must enjoy being possessed by another, first the Bull then the Bear… maybe next she be possessed by the Spider.
Luck may stave off the horrors for so long. I should know. I founded Vegas with less than this beautiful face.
Danke für's schreiben Black Cross0.
Aus Carre: 1. Gern geschehen, Kleines
2A. Aw, that mad man of flesh and worms. I'll admit for a human he knew how to entertain. Even more so with Ren.
2B. Hmmm, if you're interested, I have a bottle behind the stage. Perhaps we can share a glass and… well I'm sure the pleasures of simple conversation won't satisfy either of us now, would it?
2C. Something like that. Though if I had a say she would break their minds before their bodies.
3. Aw, you may try kleiner Mann, you may try.
Danke für's schreiben Carre
Aus Crimson Weresloth: Oh I'm afraid the bride won't make it… least I'll be sure to do so in her stead.
Danke für's schreiben Crimson Weresloth.
Aus Guest:Aw yes, the name of those who have been a persistent thorn in my side. And none of the charm like my daughter… (sigh) oh well.
Danke für's schreiben Guest.
"Now, we must sadly come to the end. This chapter has proven to be short but that's due to the interference of a certain ginger. Don't threat I'm sure one day she will be mine…" The crimson beauty said seductive yet sinister tone's before realizing something. "Oh so I should probably invite you to Favor and Follow the story maybe even leave a comment to be answered… however I won't… seems like a waste of time."
She then walks before the camera and looks it directly, gazing hard with her beauty one forgets that her eyes are that of the void itself. Blackness as if staring into the abyss. "So I'll leave you with these words instead. To the Victor goes the spoils… but everything else goes to me. For the one constant in all worlds, in all universes, in all realities… is me."