“I’m coming now,” Adolf called out and started picking up her items of clothing.
He picked up her blouse and then her brassiere a few feet away. Next came her skirt. So that meant she only had on her socks, sandals, and panties. He went further into the forest and found a sock and then at about a thirty meters further up, he found her other sock. He scanned around and tried to work on her possible path from there. He assumed she would double back to their spot and for that she at least needed her sandals. So he decided to walk another twenty meters or so to the left to look for her panties. He did not find it and looked towards his right. He found her panties a stone’s throw away. He uttered a cry of triumph, picked up the panties and sniffed it. It was still a little wet and the scent was an aphrodisiac to him. He started doubling back when something a few meters to his left caught his attention.
The paralyzing fear that gripped him had nothing to do with the gore that lay in front of him. But it had everything to do with the reason for the gory sight. A creature that looked like a giant hairy hound was jamming its head repeatedly into the carcass of a deer. Its muscles were stretched taut underneath its leathery skin. Its back was unnaturally arched upwards and its spine pushed so hard against its skin that it seemed as it if was trying to break free from its protoplasmic confines. Then the creature suddenly pulled its head away from what remained of the deer and stared directly into Adolf's eyes.
Blood and pieces of venison hung from the sides of its snout. Slowly, the creature parted its jaws slightly and gave a low evil, growl that sucked out every adrenaline molecule from Adolf. Adolf’s knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Rosa’s clothes fell in a lazy pile in front of him. He could not move. He wanted to scream for his mother, but his lips would not even move. The hairs on the creature's shoulders suddenly stood on edge, its back arched further and its growl became louder and more menacing as if it was preparing to attack. Adolf’s final thoughts and only regret as he braced for sudden death, was that he was going to die a virgin.
But then, the creatures pupils suddenly flashed in a very bright whiteness. It stood on its hind legs, raised its head to the sky and started spasming. No, this could not be happening! Adolf thought to himself. He must either be dreaming or going insane. This was impossible! The beast was cringing as if someone was striking it methodically on random areas of its body. It buried its face in its claws and the hairs on its shoulders were receding into its skin. Its skin was becoming lighter in complexion. Its claws were receding and its hind legs seemed to break inwards so that its legs could now only bend forward. Its snout retreated but remained bloodied. Adolf almost passed out when he realized what had just happened.
Less than half a minute ago, he was staring into the eyes of a creature from hell itself. But now, genuflecting in front of him, with long black hair streaming down her face and clumps of hair sticking onto the blood on her mouth and neck, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She stood up. Her skin was flawless, her breasts were ample and perky, her hips were proportional to her height and her five-feet-eight-inch body was toned; not muscular, just heavily toned. She was completely oblivious to her nakedness and even though Adolf was still in a state of total fear, he found himself having a serious erection.
Suddenly, his adrenaline kicked in. Adolf snatched up Rosa’s clothes and decided to make a run for it. But as he turned to flee, something zipped right past his left peripheral vision and he almost ran into the once-upon-a-time-savage-beast-now-exceedingly-beautiful-bloodied-black-haired woman. He crashed on his butt, still clutching Rosa’s clothes in his left hand.
“Thank thine lucky stars for, on this day, they look upon thee with favor,” the lady said as she knelt in front of him and inched her face closer to his.
Adolf could smell the blood and animal flesh on her skin and breath.
“But should thou ever speak of this, then thine fate would be far worse than that of the game I just slew.”
She then inched closer to Adolf’s ear, sniffed around his neck and hair. When she realized that she had smeared some blood on his cheek, she smiled and then licked the blood off his cheek. The gesture was part-bestial, part-erotic and Adolf felt his pants go wet as he released the contents of his gonads.
“Now I have thine scent… Adolf,” she continued, putting extra emphasis on his name.
Adolf swallowed. How could she know my name?
She then stood up, walked around him and disappeared into the woods before Adolf even realized what had happened. After a few seconds, reality dawned on him. He wanted just to get up and sprint away but he was too emotionally drained for that. So instead he half-walked, half-dragged himself towards the picnic spot, where Rosa was waiting for him to join her on the blanket. She was wearing nothing but her sandals. She noticed he had turned whiter than a ghost and gasped.
“Oh my! What happened to you? I never knew my nakedness would make you this mortified,” she said and giggled.
But she stopped giggling when his expression remained unchanged.
“My love,” she said slowly. “What happened?”
She was now on her feet and walking towards him.
“You know how in that film we watched this one person was turning into an animal and killing people. Yes, like the big bad wolf? Only this time it was much bigger and very beautiful. It was so real that I wet my pants. And no! This is not pee, I assure you. I know! Sounds crazy, right? But then she said if I told anyone, she was going to kill me. And she spoke as if she was reading from one of Shakespeare’s books. Who still talks like that these days? Oh, yes, my love. There is a big, scary human-beast creature out there. And you should see what it did to a deer! You can come and see for yourself, only that she disappeared like a flash of lightning…”
This was what he wanted to tell her. But instead, he settled for a much simpler reply.
“Get dressed, Rosa!” he said flatly. “We’re going home!”
After that incident, Adolf was never the same person again. It was a fact that he was already psychologically messed up, though. His psychosis began manifesting with him killing his neighbors’ pets. Yes, people were superior to animals. But even among humans, not all people are the same. Aryans were of the highest supremacy. They were the chosen ones, fashioned from and by the gods themselves. Every other race was inferior and, therefore, had to be eliminated! And so, Adolf Hitler had started envisioning, from a very early age, a world in which he would purge humanity of any race that was not Aryan.
Decades later, he would become the Fuhrer and the events of the forest that day would become buried in the deep recesses of his subconscious, despite the occasional nightmares. He never sought psychological help for fear of being labeled as handicapped and weak. He was Führer! He was god, damn it! And there were more pressing matters at hand. The country was heavily in debt, he needed to build an army and re-arm. But I’ll not burden myself as such tonight! He said to himself as he lay naked on his bed, waiting for his niece to make her way in through the secret passage. She was the best he ever had! Suddenly, a soft breeze blew into his chambers. A pair of white mists slowly crept through a crack in the window and floated in eerily.
He was struck with fear and panic. He reached for his Luger but stopped short when he heard a voice coming from one of the mists that were coalescing into human forms.
“If you want to live, I would suggest you sit still and pay close attention, Adolf,” a deep, reverberating voice said.
Hitler retracted his hand and let it rest on his stomach. Both veils of mist had now morphed to two humans; one male, the other female. They both had black hair. The male was very muscular, stood at six feet, five inches tall and very handsome. The female had a very toned body, with perfectly formed features and was incredibly beautiful. They were both naked and cared less.
“Who-” he stammered.
His throat felt parched. He swallowed and tried again.
“Who are you?” he asked barely above a whisper.
&n
bsp; “I am Dreyko Pakola,” replied the male. “And this is my sister, Danka.”
Then their pupils glowed brightly at the same time, and Adolf remembered seeing the same glow in the woman's eyes in the forest many years ago. The only difference was that the glow in his unwelcome visitors’ eyes was red, not white.
“No!” he cried. “This can’t be happening. Not again! No! NOOO!”
He retreated into the bed post and wished he could move through walls. He was almost screaming and trying to claw an escape route through the wall.
“Be still now,” the woman said quietly, but firmly. “Or we will make you!”
A whimpering Adolf cowered back on to the bed.
“We know that you met one of ours many years ago in the forest,” said Dreyko. “Her name is Anna, and she’s more than five hundred years old.”
He paused to let this piece of information hit Adolf.
“So, if we wanted you dead, you would have been dead already,” Dreyko added. “Now, pay close attention to what I have to say. I want to make you an offer.”
The Führer was very confused. Were these… things… not there to kill him? He swallowed, summoned some courage and squared his shoulders.
“Alright,” he said. “You have my complete attention.”
“Good,” said Dreyko pulling up a chair and making himself comfortable.
Danka did the same.
“How would you like to have a superhuman army of immortals?”
CHAPTER FOUR: 30 C. E.
“When will you be back, my husband?” asked his wife from the kitchen.
“Before the sunset,” Shi’mon replied as he tied the straps of his wooden sandals.
“Alright, just be back before the food gets cold,” she said without breaking her concentration on her cooking.
Her name was Rania, which means ‘Song of Yahweh.’ And indeed, she was the song of his life.
Shi’mon had lost his father to a storm while his father was out fishing in Sea of Galilee. His father, David, owned four fishing boats and was a renowned fisherman. David was a man of calm persona, with sharp wit and wisdom. He was a model family man, very outgoing and his kindness knew no bounds. Shi’mon wanted to be like his father when he grew up and have a wife with attributes like his mother’s, Ruth. She bore another son, Andrew, and was barren after that. For a while, Ruth was depressed, but thanks to the support of family and friends, she got over it. David always told Shi’mon that Ruth was the greatest woman who ever lived.
David did well to teach Shi’mon the trade of being a great fisherman. It was a tough and physically demanding business but once one got used to it, the rest was child’s play. One fateful day, all of David’s boats had gone out to sea as usual. The skies had suddenly turned from bright and sunny to black and stormy. The storm had been sudden and had swept down like a predator a prey. The winds were merciless; the waves were heartless, rising to over forty feet of wet rage. Shi’mon refused to leave the shore. He would wait until his father returned. He had to be picked off his feet and carried away to safety. Everyone had sought shelter for the next two hours until the storm was over.
There had been no survivors! The first set of corpses was washed ashore a few hours later. But it would take another day for David’s dead body finally make it to the shore, missing an eye; probably served as lunch for a bird. Shi’mon, his mother, and Andrew were torn with grief. It was uncommon to have a storm during that time of the year, talk less a storm of such magnitude. Shi’mon’s grief turned to rage; rage at Yahweh, the Creator of all things, including the storm that killed his father. If he could, he would make Yahweh pay this travesty! David’s funeral was on Shi’mon’s birthday. Even though he just turned fourteen, Shi’mon knew he had to take upon the mantle of an adult and wear a demeanor at least a decade his senior. In the blink of an eye, a young boy, barely a teenager, had died and an adult had been born.
Shi’mon tiptoed behind his wife and startled her, a rare gesture for the men of his era. Rania shrieked, turned around and smacked him in the arm. Shi’mon was roaring with laughter. He then slipped his hands to the base of her belly and caressed the eleven-week-old bump. She turned to face him as he took a knee and kissed her stomach. Rania felt like the luckiest woman in the realm as she looked down at her husband, eyes glistening with tears of joy. She gently ran her fingers through his thick black hair. The moment was perfect.
“Have you chosen a name yet?” Shi’mon asked her.
“I thought we agreed that if it is a girl, we will name her after your mother?” Rania said.
“Yes, my love, we did. And what if it is a boy?” he asked as he pressed his ear against her stomach as if he was listening to what the baby was saying.
“I do not know, my husband,” she smiled and rolled her eyes. “I will defer to your good judgment.”
“Alright then,” he said. “We will call him Enoch.”
“Oh, last week it was Daniel. Then it was Benjamin, and now, Enoch?” she asked amusingly. “Make up your mind-”
“Wait!” he interrupted her. “I think I hear something!”
He could barely contain his excitement.
“I think the baby moved! I can hear it move!”
“No, my love,” Rania said, shaking her head at his cuteness. “That was not the baby. Babies do not start kicking until after twelve to sixteen weeks. It just depends. At least that is what mother told me.”
“Then what did I hear?” Shi’mon asked innocently and a little confused.
“Air movements,” she replied flatly. “So, you know what is coming next, do you not?” she grinned mischievously.
“Oh no! May Yahweh help this poor child!” he gasped covering his mouth with his left hand and backing up away from her playfully. “I do not want to be that child right now!”
“Hey!” she exclaimed and threw a napkin at him.
They both broke into laughter.
“Did Master say why he summoned you?” she asked.
“No, he did not,” Shi’mon replied. “He just asked me to meet him by the pier. It must be important for him to summon me on such short notice. But there is nothing to fear or worry about. He probably has a task for me. Anyway, I will let you know what he tells me.”
“Just do not stay out too late, please,” Rania implored.
“Of course,” Shi’mon replied, kissing her on the lips.
“Alright,” she sighed. “I am sorry if I am acting like Mother Hen. I do not mean it like that.”
“Never be sorry for showing me love, alright?” he said smiling and staring into her eyes.
“Alright,” she said. “See you soon.”
“See you soon,” Shi’mon said and walked out of the house to meet the Master.
It was about a two-kilometer walk from his house to the pier. Shi’mon believed that his first meeting with the Master was no coincidence. After losing his father to the storm, he had gone under the stewardship of his father’s best friend, Kaleb, who had promised Shi’mon’s mother that he would look after David’s business until Shi’mon came of age to take over. Kaleb had done more than keeping his word. He had also helped Shi’mon deal with the psychological trauma of his father’s death, and by the time Shi’mon was seventeen years of age, his anger and bitterness no longer had the better of him. Unfortunately, Ruth, had passed away two years later from a terrible stomach infection and Shi’mon was even more devastated. But being a little older, he drew strength and courage from his brother, Andrew, and together, they weathered their emotional storm.
Marriage had been the furthest thing on Shi’mon’s mind until a year later. He had just struck a bargain with Josiah, his biggest customer. He was about to prepare Josiah’s order, when a middle-aged lady walked up to Josiah’s fish booth to make a purchase. A young maiden accompanied this lady, who Shi’mon assumed was the lady’s daughter. They waited for Shi’mon and Josiah to conclude their business because they wanted fresher fish. Shi’mon noticed that the young maiden kept s
miling at him while her mother, he assumed, was bargaining with Josiah.
“Is something amusing you, young lady?” he asked, unable to maintain his composure.
“I am not sure, sir,” said the young maiden, still smiling. “But I am certain that no matter how bad your day may be, it is not as bad as that poor fellow’s over there.”
She gestured with her head, blushing at the same time.
Shi’mon followed her gaze and saw what she meant. A young man, probably a merchant, was unaware that a part of his cloak was ripped around his buttocks and was strolling casually around the marketplace. Some children tiptoed behind him with a piece of stick and poked at the exposed flesh of his buttocks. Laughter erupted, and the children scurried away as the man gave chase. Even Shi’mon chuckled a little.
“See,” said the young maiden with an even brighter smile. “It is not so hard to smile, is it? How did that feel, sir?”
Until that moment, Shi’mon had not realized that he might have become so used to his pain that it constantly reflected on his face.
“It is by the work of your hands and the sweat of your brow that my mother and I will be cooking some good fish today,” she continued without waiting for his reply. “So, I thank you very much for everything that you do for my mother and I, and the community. You are a good man, sir; you and everyone you work with.”
Her smile never left her face, and she held his eyes in hers the whole time she spoke.
Shi’mon had only always seen his profession as work and business. But this stranger had changed his perspective and he was deeply moved by her compliments.
“I-,” he stammered.
He cleared his throat and then gave it another try.
“I thank you, almah,” he said and smiled genuinely.
To his surprise, it felt really good.
“Of course, sir,” she said and bowed slightly. “Enjoy the rest of your day! May Yahweh continue to keep you strong!”
With those words, she joined her mother and the two headed further into the market. She was a very bold almah, thought Shi’mon. He did not realize he was still staring at her until Josiah jolted him back to reality.
The Bright Eyes (The Soulless Ones Book 1) Page 3
