Lords of Darkness, Part 1
Parent Teacher Committee, Biala High School, Bialystok, Podlasie – January 13, 1995, 9:00 PM
“All in favor?” said Augsburg.
“Ja,” said Deborah.
“Aye,” said Calcagni.
“Starting Monday, the track around the athletic field will be closed to joggers at 8:30 pm instead of ten,” Augsburg said.
He looked up. “Any other items before we call it a night?”
“Yeah,” Calcagni said, “Um, I got wind that for the spring drama productions, Heinrich Reinhard intends to put on Jesus Christ Superstar.”
He suppressed a smile.
“You know how he is,” Augsburg said, “Heinrich’s just trying to do things the kids like.”
“My point exactly,” Calcagni said.
“Um... I don't think that play is appropriate for this high school,” Deborah said.
“If he wants to be young, I have no problems with ‘Grease’, or ‘Annabel’, or...” August said.
“Doesn't Grease have the F word?” Vitaris said.
"Look, I'll talk to Howard," Augsburg said, "Okay, let's adjourn till next week. Deborah, why don't you lead us in a prayer?"
He took out a red candle.
"Jacob, the game is on," Vitaris said.
Calcagnis sighed. "It'll only take a minute, Paul. We've been... letting it slip."
Augsburg struck a match to light the candle. Thunder rumbled in the background.
“Paul, why don’t you get the door?” Augsburg said.
Vitaris got up and closed the door.
“In the name of the Lords of Darkness, rulers of the Earth, kings of the Underworld, I command the forces of darkness to bestow their infernal power upon me,” the teachers chanted.
“Sein ist die Hand die verletzt,” Deborah chanted, using an archaic German dialect.
“Sein ist die Hand die verletzt,” the others repeated.
HIS IS THE HAND THAT WOUNDS.
“Sein ist der Ort genannt Hölle,” Deborah chanted.
“Sein ist der Ort genannt Hölle,” the others repeated.
HIS IS THE PLACE CALLED HELL.
“May the black powers of our forefathers make us strong,” Deborah chanted.
“Hail, hail the Lords of Darkness,” the others repeated.
Bialystok woods – 9:30 PM
The rain came down heavily, but that didn’t deter Joey Stephen and David Wroclaw from trekking deeper into the woods with Kate and Jadwiga. At least they had their umbrellas with them. Joey carried a bulky package in a brown paper bag. Inside were some vodka bottles.
“How much further?” Kate complained.
“Up there a ways,” Joey said.
“Not far,” David said at the same time.
The boys answer simultaneously
“I heard the altar is a hollowed stump, just up here, where the pagans used to worship before the others coopted it,” Joey said, whispering to David, “OK, when they get freaked, you get Kate, I got Jadwiga.”
David nodded. “Alright, I need a personal object from everyone.”
They gathered around a tree stump, the girls still clutching their umbrellas. David pulled out a black candle and lit it.
“Now, Jadwiga,” he said, “You got to stand over here and face Joey, like this. Closer.”
Jadwiga looked nervous. “Why like this?”
“Well that's so... er... so we're calling the spirits up of every direction,” David said, “OK now Kate, stand here and face me.”
“Do you really think someone used this place for black magic?” Kate said. “Or is it just a rumor?”
“Hey, the Slavs and Lithuanians used this place for centuries before they stopped, right around the time the black magic started up,” David said.
Joey sighed. “C'mon Dave!”
“Shh!” David said to Joey.
He took out a piece of paper, torn from a book, and started reading from it, trying to keep his expression serious.
“In the name of the Lords of Darkness, rulers of the Earth, kings of the Underworld, rise, rise to this place. Ah... Azazel,” he read.
There was a sound like a sigh as the candle flickered out. David wasn’t bothered, but Jadwiga looked scared.
“Know ye all who dwell in the light of professed righteousness that the others who know the keys and the angels have opened the gate,” David continued.
A sound like groaning voices filled the air, startling David. Kate looked scared. Jadwiga hugged Joey for protection. Joey simply smiled. Jadwiga looked down and saw dozens of rats running around her feet. She screamed and ran into the forest.
“Oh frak this!” Joey shouted, running after Jadwiga. “Jadwiga!”
Kate ran after them, leaving David alone. David threw something at the rats, which burst into flames as it hit the ground. Deciding he’d had enough of this, he ran after the others. Deeper in the forest, Jadwiga sat on a log, reciting a prayer.
“....believe in Jesus Holy Mary Mother of God pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our deaths...” she said.
Joey ran up to her. “Wait!”
He had almost caught up to her when a line of flame appeared on the ground. He stumbled and backed away, blinded by the light. He put up his hands to shield his face as he heard a groan-like animalistic sound. He turned, and a thin, bony, cadaverous hand grabbed his throat and quickly crushed it.
January 14, 1995, 8:55 AM
The rain continued falling. Angela crouched under her umbrella and looked under the white tarp in faint disgust.
“A hunter found him early this morning,” Constable Johan Branicki said.
“Couldn't have been dead for more than 12 hours,” Angela said.
She got to her feet. Anders and Johan stood on the other side of the, while more officers searched the area in the background. Everyone carried umbrellas. Johan looked at the two agents with the usual “I know this sounds crazy but” look Angela had grown used to in her time working with the X-Division. The forty-year-old man looked shook up and worried, but his nervousness was offset by a seriousness in his tone.
“They say this arena's used for witches' ceremonies,” Johan said.
"They?" Anders said.
“Well.. everybody... everybody who lives around here knows about the things that go on in this town,” Johan said, “They say there are people who control things.”
“Any evidence to substantiate those rumors, Constable?” Angela asked.
“Well, Agent Hansen,” Johan said, “Look at the body... the eyes and heart have been cut out.”
“Many homicides include victim desecration,” Angela said.
“I know he and his friends listened to devil music!” Johan said.
"‘The Night Stuttgart Died’?" Anders said, walking away.
Johan and Angela followed him.
“You know what I mean,” Johan said, “Heavy Metal bands that influence kids...”
Angela held up her Walkman and pressed play. Furen Zeppelin started playing.
“Not just kids, you know,” she said.
“Was Joey Stephen or his friends ever witnessed participating in witchcraft, pagan or Satanist?” Anders asked.
“No,” Johan said.
“More rumors,” Angela said, still listening to her heavy metal tapes.
Johan pointed at the stump. “This stump here is supposed to be the ceremonial altar. Used by adherents of traditional Slavic and Baltic faiths until the Soviets came and sent them all to gulags in Yavdi. The Satanists adopted it for a time after the Liberation in ’86. We know because they themselves told us. But they haven’t used it in about four years or so. Guess they got tired of coming out here in the middle of the night or something. What do you think?”
Anders moved closer to the stump. “I think with a few turquoise chips, a picture of pre-politics Roland Wilson and three cans of shellac it'd make a pretty nice coffee table.”
“Well you see all that wax?” Johan said. “Someone's been lighting candles in there.”
Angela looked at the vodka bottles Joey had been carrying. Next to them was the page torn out from a book.
“Any idea who he was with last night?” Angela said.
“Oh... we assumed he was alone,” Johan said.
“Well, most people don't set out to drink two six-packs by themselves,” Angela said.
“Well, you certainly could,” Anders said.
Angela punched him in the arm. Then she held up the page.
“I also found this,” she said, “It has some purple ink on the edge, like a library identification stamp......and the end of the title says ‘In the Reich’. I'm surprised your people overlooked it."
"I'm sorry, I got to apologize here,” Johan said heistantly, “You're... you're right, I admit we're a little...rattled...here. That's why I called the Athanatoi. This may involve a deeper conspiracy.”
Both agents rolled their eyes.
“See... I grew up around here,” Johan said, “Ever since I was a kid I heard... stories. Yes, the Soviets kept telling us they were just stories, but they’ve never been to this place. This is a weird area, it has a strange air that I could chalk up to imagination... till today...”
Angela handed him the page. Johan looked it over.
“I'll have my staff start checking libraries for you, Agent Hansen,” Johan said, walking off.
“Better hide your Uberdeth albums,” Anders joked.
Angela reached the end of her tape and ejected it, slipping the cassette into her pocket and loading another one. More peaceful music started playing.
“Theories like that are why I can't take him seriously,” Angela said.
“The homicide did have a ceremonial presentation,” Anders said, “The manner in which the body was displayed...”
“Anders, I got the impression you didn't believe him either,” Angela said.
“I didn't want to incite his already clearly aggravated imagination,” Anders said, “But there is a weird feel to this place, so maybe there is some truth to those rumors.”
“I think he incited your imagination,” Angela said, “He’s just a superstitious man free to share his superstitions now that the atheist equalists are gone. I think this case is nothing more than a murderer taking advantage of local folklore. I mean there's nothing odd about…”
Something hit her umbrella. More objects hit the umbrella and then fell to the ground, where Angela found they were frogs. Anders looked a little amused, while Angela simply ducked under a tree. Then the frogs stopped falling, and those on the ground hopped away.
“So... lunch?” Anders asked.
“Anders, the sky just rained frakking frogs!” Angela said.
“I guess their parachutes didn't open,” Anders said, "You were saying something about this place not feeling odd?"
“Please tell me I’m not still in the hospital,” Angela said.
“If you were, Demetrios would have been dropping the frogs,” Anders said, “Though we can just retire to the motel if you still feel—”
“Anders, I’m fine,” Angela said, “The doctors found nothing wrong with me. The Athanatoi cleared me for work. I can take care of myself. And I think I need to get my head back in the game as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, but then again, it’s raining frogs,” Anders said, walking away.
Angela stood still for a moment, looking up at the sky. Then she followed after him.
Biala High School Library – 10:00 AM
Anders stood at the loans desk, flicking through a box of library cards. He flipped past one for Stephen Koenig’s “Four Past Midnight” and settled on one for M.R. Krashewski, "Inquisition: a history of the occult in the Reich." Angela walked inside and joined Anders.
“The Imperial Weather Service says there are tornadoes in eastern Poland,” she said, “The wind probably picked up the animals into the storm.”
She didn’t feel very confident about her explanation, though, and her eyes wandered on the library car Anders had settled on. The last borrower was David Wroclaw.
Science Lab
David was restless in class. He tapped his lab equipment with pencils and fidgeted around, looking over his shoulders to Kate, Jadwiga, and Sarah Augsburg. Kate and Jadwiga were also as nervous. The bell rang, and an old woman walked in. She looked like the stereotypical “old maid” kind of teacher, with her white and yellow floral dress. Her hairstyle was unflattering, and her thick glasses sat on a chain around her neck.
“Okay kids,” she said, “People, may I have your attention please? Herr Kingary is off sick today, so I'll be substituting. My name is Frau Zadok. I'm going to take the roll...”
She was interrupted by a knock at the door. David shot to attention, hearing it. Zadok crossed to open the door, revealing Anders and Angela. Angela held up her badge.
“Athanatoi,” she said, “We’d like to speak to a David Wroclaw…”
David bolted for the window, climbing over a bench and kicking equipment down as he tried to jump out. Angela ran over and caught him, dragging him back by the legs.
“Let me go!” he shouted.
Doctor Calcagni’s office
“I'm not into that stuff at all, I swear,” David said, sighing, “Joey was my best friend. Look, I swear, I've never done anything like that. I would never want him to die.”
“What made you go to a place you heard was a witches' altar?” Angela said.
David turned his head, seeing Kate and Jadwiga standing in the corner, silently judging him. He looked back to Angela and sighed.
“We were just trying to get some,” he confessed.
“I told you so,” Jadwiga said.
“Why did you take the book?” Angela asked.
“Because I don't know a thing about witchcraft, and we wanted to make it sound good... but I never thought...” David said.
“You never thought what?” Angela said.
“That it would work,” David said.
Anders turned away from a window. “If you didn't kill Joey, why did you run away from us in the classroom?”
“I'm scared, man,” David said.
“Of us?”
“Of
it,” David said, “That ceremony! I'm afraid we called up the devil or something.”
Kate and Jadwiga both looked as scared as David. Outside in the reception, Augsburg, Deborah, Calcagni, and Vitaris stood in a close group, looking at the proceedings.
“One of you killed Joey Stephen,” Augsburg said in a low but furious voice, “Who?”
Everybody looked at each other.
“He was displayed according to the rites of Azazel,” Augsburg said, “Who else would know about the ritual? We stopped doing this because—”
“I went out there,” Calcagni said, “We were supposed to have a Mass, but no-one else showed, so I left.”
“It wasn't any of us,” Vitaris said.
“Something's here... a presence amongst us,” Calcagni said, “Angry, I can feel it. I really think we should call the Inquisition.”
“And frak everything up more?” Augsburg said.
He stopped talking, and they looked to the door as Angela led the kids out of the office, followed by Anders. Augsburg stepped forward.
“You're letting them go?” he asked, incredulous.
Anders shrugged. “There's no evidence to warrant an arrest.”
“They never leave evidence,” Deborah said.
“We heard how Joey Stephen was killed,” Augsburg said, “An occult ritual.”
“They've reached into our area from outside,” Vitaris said.
"‘They’ again," Anders said.
“Those three kids are obviously under occult influence,” Augsburg said.
“They reach into our children,” Deborah said, “In music, television, books...”
“They prey on children's innocence,” Calcagni said, “Just like the equalists.”
“Seriously?” Angela said. “The Athanatoi recently concluded a seven-year study and found little or no evidence of the existence of occult conspiracies.”
“And Omar Mukhtar never admitted to the existence of the Lombard Mafia,” Calcagni smirked.
The others didn’t smile.
Angela felt a little exasperated, but she tried to stay reasonable. “Look, if the number of murders attributed to occult conspiracies were true, it would mean thousands of people killing tens of thousands of people a year, without evidence, without being exposed... it would be the greatest criminal conspiracy in the history of civilization. Worst than the Holocaust, or Nakba, or however you want to call it.”
Augsburg winked to his colleagues. “Finally, you people understand what we're up against.”
Anders glanced at Angela. “Our investigation is ongoing. Angie, let’s go.”
They quickly left and turned into the corridor, where Anders found a drinking fountain. Angela sighed again.
“Anders, this is mass hysteria,” Angela said, “And our presence here on a routine homicide only gives validity to their fears of occult murder. And this is the former Occupied Territories. People are terrified about the equalists coming back or something.”
“But what if their fears are justified?” Anders said.
“How?” Angela said. “Regulations and social institutions are weaker here in the former Occupied Territories than in the western provinces. And they’ve only been liberated from the equalists eight years ago. There’s bound to be paranoia.”
“Does that explain the frogs?” Anders asked.
Angela sighed in frustration. “Tornadoes.”
“You don’t even sound like you believe that,” Anders said.
“I’ve had a long day, Anders,” Angela said, “Do you know how much effort it took me to convince Dad to let me out into the field again?”
“Hey, if you’re tired, we can—” Anders said.
“No, I’m not tired, I’m just confused,” Angela said, “Why are we here if we’re not chasing UFOs or another lead on Annie, or whatever Sentinel is?”
“Frogs falling out of the sky is unexplained,” Anders said, “It isn’t called X-Division for nothing, you know.”
“Fine,” Angela said, “Let’s just go to Calcagni and see what he has to say.”
Science lab – 10:52 AM
The bell rang, and the students filed out, with Kate and Jadwiga out last. Zadok looked up as they walked by.
“Girls... may I have a word?” she asked.
The girls looked nervous and uncertain, but they reluctantly approached her. Zadok smiled and adjusted her glasses.
“I heard on the grapevine what happened, and, well, I know how hard it is to talk to adults sometimes, even though you feel like you want to...” she said. “Well, because you're young adults... What I'm trying to say is, if you feel like talking, I'm here to listen, okay?”
The girls smiled awkwardly, probably terrified on the inside.
“Thanks, Frau Zadok,” Jadwiga managed.
Kate murmured something similar.
“Hang in there,” Zadok said, waving them out.
They ran out the door. Zadok straightened the papers in her hand. She reached into her desk drawer, which she opened to reveal a dissecting tray with a fresh and bloody human heart and two eyeballs. She put a lid over the tray and then put the papers on top before shutting it. She smiled to herself.
Calcagni’s office
Angela sat at a desk, working on her newest laptop computer, while her headphones played soothing music from her Walkman, toning out the chatter from the faculty around her. Over by Calcagni’s desk, Anders and Calcagni sat down. Anders looked through some notes.
“Your records indicate a high incidence of students complaining of depression, headaches, eating disorders...?” Anders asked.
“This is high school, and this is the former Occupied Territories,” Calcagni said, nodding, “It's normal for students to display abnormal behavior.”
“I'm assuming you're familiar with the early indications of repressed memory?” Anders said.
“Just because a student has a headache doesn't mean he's repressing a memory,” Calcagni said.
“In your counselling you've found no evidence of past ritual abuse?” Anders asked.
Calcagni shook his head. Anders got up and opened the door.
“Would it be possible for me to speak to any of the students who've had chronic complaints?” Anders asked.
“That would be a betrayal of the doctor-patient relationship,” Calcagni said, “Sorry.”
Anders looked at him again and then left, closing the door behind him. He approached Angela, who noticed him but continued surfing the web.
“For the body of student of complaints, he was pretty quick to dismiss my concerns,” Anders said.
“Maybe there's nothing here,” Angela said.
Anders looked back at the office. “Well, he's hiding something.”
Angela pointed at her screen. “Take a look at this. I found this on the Internet.”
She was on a newspaper’s digital archives, looking at an article from 1934.
"‘The discovery yesterday of a mutilated teenaged boy in the forest has police officials distressed about the possibility of a conspiratorial organization of Dark Forces’," she read.
“Where's that pulled from -- the local paper?” Anders asked.
"‘The Muslim is known to remove organs and sacrifice teens in their religious ceremonies’," Angela read on, "It's taken from
Volkischer Beobacter, an Angeloi newspaper in 1934. The rumors are the same, but the blanks have been filled in with whoever must be feared or persecuted at the time. In this case, it's Satanists."
Anders looked at Angela seriously. “Modern witches and occultists are mostly adherents to organized pagan religions like Romuva and Slavism. They have a great reverence for all of Nature, they do not cast harmful spells, and they definitely don't worship Satan or his analogues in other religions. Even the Church of Satan—which I should remind you is also a recognized religious institution—has renounced murder and torture. Their influence here wouldn't account for the frogs, or most importantly, the murder. And most of the pagans were deported from this part of Poland in the 1950s. You’d more likely find their descendants in eastern Yavdi than in this area.”
“Well, if not witches, then what?” Angela said.
Science Lab – 11:15 AM
Zadok wheeled around the classroom a trolley holding a large glass tank filled with what appeared to be dead piglets, handing them out to students’ dissection trays as she went.
“For your midterm examination, one-half of your grade will be based on your diagram of a dissected pig embryo,” she said, handing one to Sarah Augsburg, who looked at it with revulsion, “Of course, these are actually hog embryos, belonging to the order of the Artiodactyla, or creatures with hooves. Be sure to remove the heart and lungs and draw a diagram of each. Be neat. You will be docked for sloppy work.”
She stopped her trolley by another glass tank containing a large python and tossed a dead hog in as she continued talking. The snake hissed and eagerly slithered over to its lunch.
“Extra credit will be given for dissecting the heart,” Zadok said, not caring about the students groaning around her, “You have until the end of the period.”
Sarah looked quite ill. She twitched a little and took deep gulps, as if she were trying not to vomit all over the classroom. She closed her eyes and dug her scalpel into the pig, trying not to focus on the squelchy and icky sounds of it being cut open. Her palms sweated as she unexpectedly opened her eyes and gasped. Zadok looked up at her. Sarah looked down and focused on the pig’s heart. It was beating. She gasped again, as if she couldn’t breathe. As she watched the pig, it moved its head from side to side and squealed as if it were alive. Sarah screamed at the top of her lungs. Zadok continued watching from her desk, her cold and objective expression unchanging.
Calcagni’s office – 11:20 AM
Sarah sat on a couch, wrapped in a blanket, still obviously distressed but quiet. She rocked gently back and forth, murmuring prayers, oblivious to everything around her. Zadok sat next to her, stroking her hair.
“I've had this happen before,” Zadok said, “Some kids just have trouble dissecting things.”
Calcagni walked over to them and addressed Sarah. “Sarah, I'm trying to reach your father and get him to pick you up.”
Sarah snapped to attention and focused on Calcagni, recoiling immediately. “NO!”
Anders and Angela, still staring at Angela’s laptop, noticed the commotion. Calcagni crouched down in front of Sarah and took her hands reassuringly.
“I'm sure he'll be here soon,” Calcagni said.
“No!” she repeated.
She wrenched herself away and ran out of the office. Anders ran after her.
“Sarah!” he shouted. “You’re remembering!”
Sarah stopped near the drinking fountain, her tears subsiding. Anders walked slowly towards her, very concerned.
“Tell me what you're remembering,” he said.
They walked out to a bench at the edge of the soccer field, where she sat down next to Anders as Angela approached.
“You know who my stepdad is, right?” Sarah said, sobbing.
Anders and Angela nodded.
“Jacob Augsburg on the PTC,” she said, taking a deep breath, “All right, well, my Mom, she's a teacher. Well, was a teacher. My real Dad, he uh, he ran away, and my Mom met Jacob at some seminar or something... and they um, they got married. My sister and I moved up here when I was about... um, four. She was about two. Anyway... a, a couple of weeks ago, for Christmas, my class, we took a field trip to Stonehenge... and... and.. I remembered when I was four years old, Jacob took me in his car near there, and he um... he made me... in the back seat...”
Anders and Angela looked at each other. Sarah’s voice grew more distressed.
“...he told me that if I ever told anybody that he would hurt me...” Sarah said. “As he touched me, well, I would pretend that I was like, out of my body. Deep in the ocean, down with the fish, in the dark water... Somehow, I don't know, I managed to block out all these things, but... lately it's all been... I'm remembering, you know? The others too.”
“Others?” Angela said, looking at Anders.
“...Yeah... Men and women,” Anders said, “They would... come to the house, you know, when my Mom was away? And they would.. uh... take me down to the basement…It was really dark... it was like painted red, with a dirt floor. They would wear these robes, black and red and they would... sing, and they would chant, and then they would tie me and my sister up, these men and women... they would make us... do things. They called me a breeder… They would get me pregnant, and then they would kill the babies...”
She sobbed uncontrollably as Anders and Angela looked away, not knowing what to think.
“I've had three children, and they're all buried in the cellar,” Sarah said, “One night, Jacob murdered my sister for a sacrifice. She was only eight years old! He told everybody that she died in an accident. And everybody believed him...Today brought it all back, clear like it happened yesterday...”
She hugged Angela and sobbed even more.
Augsburg house – January 14, 1995, 3:00 PM
Angela pulled into the driveway of the Augsburgs’ house.
“Imagine... if what she said is true...” Anders said.
“Why don't we just wait and see what her parents have to say?” Angela said.
“They’d deny it,” Anders said, “Especially if it’s true.”
Angela stopped the car and walked towards the front door, accompanied by Anders. They got halfway along the path when the door opened and Jacob Augsburg walked out, Frau Augsburg staying behind in the doorway.
“Where’s Sarah?” Jacob said. “They told me you were bringing her home.”
“She wanted to remain with friends,” Angela said, “And... under the circumstances, we thought it best.”
“Circumstances?” Jacob said. “Why wouldn't she want to come home?”
Angela told them what Sarah had said. Jacob nodded and invited them inside, though Frau Augsburg started sobbing and withdrew to the kitchen. They sat down in the living room.
“Someone, or something, has obviously put these things into her mind,” Jacob said.
He looked at Anders, who looked at Angela, who looked to the kitchen.
“Frau Augsburg?” she asked. “Er, perhaps you'd like a glass of water?”
Frau Augsburg managed a tiny nob in between her bouts of sobbing. Angela quietly handed her a glass of water.
“Herr Augsburg?” Anders asked, motioning to the kitchen.
Jacob got up and walked to the kitchen. Anders followed him there. Angela shifted in her seat as she looked at Frau Augsburg.
“Frau Augsburg, your daughter has not accused you of any involvement in these activities,” Angela said.
Frau Augsburg shook her head slightly.
“Do you have any idea why Sarah might have said these things?” Angela asked.
“We’ve have been having... marriage problems, lately...” Frau Augsburg said, with hesitation and frequent pauses, “We're committed to working them out. Maybe we haven't been... paying enough attention to Sarah. …She and I don't... we don't get along. We fight.”
“Have you ever known Sarah to be pregnant?” Angela asked.
Frau Augsburg immediately stopped crying and focused on Angela. “Of course not! She's fifteen years old! How can you possibly believe such—"
“Have you ever had another child?” Angela asked.
Frau Augsburg nodded. “A girl. Theresa...She died.”
“At eight years old?” Angela asked.
Frau Augsburg shook her head. “Eight weeks. Radiation from Chernobyl, doctors said.”
In the kitchen, Jacob washed a glass under the table. He turned off the tap and turned around, seeing Anders.
“Did you do it?” he asked.
Jacob stared at him, both shocked and angry. He dropped his glass, letting it shatter in the sink.
“I would kill anyone who did the things to her that she claims,” he said.
He turned and walked to the other side of the kitchen to dry his hand. Anders’ attention was caught by something on the other side of the room, a wooden door. Jacob didn’t notice. He walked towards it.
“That's not a very Christian tenet,” Anders said, opening the door.
“Thou, God of Vengeance, shine forth,” Augsburg said, “After what the equalists did to us, we here need plenty of vengeance.”
Anders looked down a flight of steps into a dark cellar. “Even the Devil can quote scripture to fit his needs.”
Jacob turned and saw what Anders was doing. The door slammed shut by itself, and Anders stepped back in shock. Jacob didn’t notice.
“How dare you!” he shouted. “Get out of our house! As far as I know, you put those ideas in my daughter's head. Now get – out! The Devil travels in many forms. And you may be one!”
Science lab – 4:00 PM
“Are you sure you're up to this, Sarah?” Zadok asked. “I heard about what you said.”
Sarah sat at her bench, with a fresh dead piglet on her tray. Zadok stood at her desk.
“I’m fine,” Sarah said, smiling bravely, “I don’t want to miss the midterm.”
Zadok smiled. “I’ll be in my office if you need me. By the way, you should remove your jewelry so it doesn’t fall into the guts.”
Sarah took off her bracelet and handed it to her.
“I'll hold it for you until you're finished,” Zadok said, walking to her office.
Once she was inside, she looked once more at Sarah and then closed her blinds. She lit a candle, put it inside a pentagram drawn in chalk, surrounded herself with a ring of salt, and raised the bracelet over the flame. Zadok stared at the bracelet, her face sweating, and began chanting in a mix of Polish, Latin, and German.
Sarah picked up her scalpel.
Zadok brought up her free hand and pinched her thumb and forefinger together as if she was holding something.
Sarah raised her scalpel, held between her thumb and forefinger.
Zadok lowered her hand and placed it over the wrist of the hand over the flame.
Sarah put her scalpel over her other hand.
Zadok made a violent slashing gesture, and Sarah slit her wrist. She screamed in agony and fell to the floor, where she bled out and died. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed outside.