The Foundlings: Book One of the Urban Fantasy Paranormal Vampire Series, The Foundlings

by R. M. Garcia

  After twelve miles of rugged terrain, they had reached the airfield. They avoided most roads as Gestapo expected them to be patrolled. Most of the airfields had been bombed and were now unusable. Every plane on the airstrip had been destroyed either by bombs or disabled by ground troops.

  “Sir, every plane has been destroyed,” Leonhard said.

  “Not every plane,” Gestapo replied and drove past the airfield completely to a nearby lake. There, under heavy camouflage, Gestapo had hidden a Dornier Do 12 seaplane. The aircraft was about thirty feet long and had a wingspan of just over forty feet. Now Leonhard understood; this craft was a seaplane, and once it was lowered into the lake, it could take off from the lake’s surface, bypassing the need for an airstrip.

  “How did you manage to hide this here?” Leonhard asked.

  “It was a contingency plan for the Führer’s escape,” Gestapo replied. “Since he is dead, and I neglected to tell him about it, he has no further use of it.” Gestapo continued to remove the heavy canvas covers.

  “But it was nowhere in your files or records,” Leonhard said. “I would have seen it.” Gestapo turned to Leonhard and discovered that his young secretary was holding a pistol aimed at him.

  “So you have been looking through my files,” Gestapo said and began walking toward him.

  “Stay where you are,” Leonhard ordered. “Yes, I have been spying on you for some time now. Now toss over your sidearm.” Gestapo unbuckled his pistol and tossed it over to Leonhard and then looked around.

  “Who are you spying for, Himmler or Bormann?” Gestapo asked.

  “Stalin,” Leonhard replied proudly. “I asked for this assignment. I worked my way up through the ranks of the Third Reich and into the chancellery office itself. When they offered me the opportunity to work along your side, I could barely contain myself.”

  “Why is that?” Gestapo asked genuinely interested. “Working next to Himmler or Hitler would have been more useful.”

  “Working along your side, I could provide my comrades the intelligence they would need to finally take the city of Berlin.”

  “You are German, I checked you out thoroughly before I allowed you to serve under me,” Gestapo said as he sat down on a rock nearby.

  “Yes, I am. I also purposely scored lower on my exams, as I knew you preferred to surround yourself with subordinates who are of lesser intelligence than you.”

  “I see you have studied me well,” Gestapo smiled.

  “I have waited for this opportunity for five years,” he said, “for a chance to end your vile stench on this earth.”

  “What did I do to you?”

  “You killed my parents. You didn’t know they were my parents, just some members of the Red Orchestra, you had put to death.”

  “They were spies, communist spies, operating in Germany. If they did not want to be in danger, they should have stayed in Russia.”

  “We were Bavarian, just like you,” Leonhard said. “How could you be so cruel to your own people?”

  “It was my duty. Orders were given, and I followed them,” he replied. “I regret none of it, especially killing Communists. The Fatherland always comes first.”

  “I should have killed you a long time ago, but I waited too long,” Leonhard said.

  “Why didn’t you?” Gestapo could see the boy was getting agitated and careless.

  “You never took vacation. You were never far from your post, and I never had an opportunity,” Leonhard answered. “I should have tried harder, and after finding out who the true architect behind the mass killing of my Jewish people, and so many others, I felt so guilty. I could not let you escape. When no one decided to follow you, I knew this would be the perfect opportunity.”

  “So you know that it is I who organized everything for Himmler and the Führer?” Gestapo asked. “I have come up with so many ideas on how to exterminate Jews and every other undesirable that I have lost track of how many have died by my inventions. The gas trucks though, are still my favorite.”

  “You are a monster.” Leonhard was disgusted. “How could you contrive such methods of mass murder? Why do you always have to be so damn efficient?”

  “It is my duty, I do as I am ordered to,” Gestapo replied calmly without any trace of emotion.

  “No! You don’t get to hide behind orders. You reveled in how efficient your death squads became!” Leonhard yelled.

  “Revel is such a strong word. I would say pride. I took great pride in performing my duties to their fullest,” Gestapo replied.

  “I was going to bring you in, but then decided to kill you myself,” Leonhard said. Gestapo stood back up.

  “I have concluded a few things myself, Leonhard.” Gestapo said.

  “What is that?”

  “You had more than enough opportunities to kill me. You have had a sidearm with you most every day we were outside the chancellery office. You could have killed me at a hundred different places, including the drive here, but you lacked the conviction.” Gestapo took a step toward Leonhard.

  “Stay back! I will shoot you.”

  “Please, do you really think I didn’t know who you were working for?” Gestapo said and continued walking toward Leonhard confidently. “I can get information on anyone.”

  “I will shoot you!” Leonhard warned.

  “Go ahead. You forgot to reload your pistol,” Gestapo said. Leonhard looked down at his pistol, and it was all the distraction Gestapo needed. He lunged at Leonhard and hit him on the head with a rock he had hidden in his hand. Leonhard managed to squeeze off one shot before his head was caved in by the rock wielded by Gestapo. The bullet hit him in the leg. He quickly hobbled over to the plane and retrieved a medical kit. The wound was bleeding, but he was able to apply a tourniquet to it quickly. He finished uncovering the plane and used the jeep to pull it into the lake. Once the aircraft was floating, he boarded it and started the engine.

  The plane began moving across Lake Großer Müggelsee and began gaining speed. His movements had loosened the bandage on his leg, and it began bleeding once again. Nearby Russian troops were advancing on the lake, he would not be able to stop now. He placed pressure on his leg with one hand and pulled back on the yoke with the other. The aircraft took off from the surface of the lake whilst under fire from Russian troops; he could hear bullets hitting the hull. Gestapo lifted the plane high into the air and away from the gunfire. After he was high enough in the air, he turned the aircraft southward. He was struggling to fly the aircraft with only one hand, and any time he had to pull his hand away from his leg to make an adjustment to the throttle his bleeding would resume. There was no way he was going to make it to Munich in his current condition. After an hour, he felt he had flown far enough away from the Russian troops and decided to land the plane in another lake to tend to his wound. He spotted a suitable body of water and started to make his descent.

  Gestapo had lost a considerable amount of blood and unexpectedly passed out, forcing the plane into an even steeper dive. The aircraft crashed into the surface of the lake and broke into pieces. The remnants of the cabin began to sink under the waves the impact created. He was awoken by the cold water rushing into the cockpit, and he regained consciousness long enough to watch the light disappear as he sank to the bottom of the lake. As he sank to the bottom, he tried to move but both his arms and legs were broken by the crash. The little air that was left in the cockpit was quickly bubbling out through various cracks in the windshield. As the last bit of air escaped, and his head was completely covered by water, he committed himself to his fate and opened his mouth and exhaled.

  Gestapo awoke on a dry city street. It looked like Munich, but somehow different. He stood up and looked around; he was surprised to find that all his injuries were healed. He was also dry, and as far as he could tell, it was nighttime, and no moon was visible, only dark clouds that blotted any glimpse of the sky. All the buildings shared an ominous feel to them. He could feel a myriad of eyes upon him but could not
spot anyone. He began to hear footsteps approaching; he reached for his sidearm but found it was gone. The footsteps got louder and louder, he was sure someone was approaching, but again still could not see anyone. The footsteps stopped and everything became deathly silent. He looked down the road and then turned around to find a hooded man standing a mere foot from him. He recoiled back a few feet having been utterly startled. He took a fighting stance and faced the figure before him.

  “Who are you!?” Gestapo asked.

  “I am your salvation or your damnation,” he replied and stepped to within a few feet of Gestapo. The man wore a hooded cloak and his face could not be seen. His voice was low and guttural, just like a beast.

  “Salvation is preferable,” Gestapo said.

  “I have watched you for quite some time,” the hooded man said. “Of all the candidates; you are best suited to my task.”

  “Who are you? And what do you want from me?” Gestapo asked.

  “I am Lucifer, Satan or the devil if you prefer. What I want from you is your loyalty.”

  “You want me to serve you?” Gestapo asked. “Why should I?”

  “I believe you will find my offer to your benefit, or you can decline, and I will simply take you to hell. On the other hand if you accept my offer, I can send you back to the world of the living,” Lucifer replied. “The choice is yours.”

  “Why choose me, why not Hitler or Himmler?” Gestapo asked.

  “I need a ruthless and ambitious agent on earth, who will obey my commands without question or hesitation. I need someone who will take to heart what I ask of him as tenaciously as he took on the task of exterminating of so many innocents,” Lucifer said. “Hitler was weak and surrendered. Himmler and Bormann will fare no differently in a few days. I have other plans for them.”

  “What exactly do you want from me?”

  “The Third Reich is over,” Lucifer said. “Yet, I have a new war for you to join, as one of my generals.”

  “I am intrigued, continue,” Gestapo said.

  “Good,” Lucifer replied, and for a moment, a smile could be seen under the hood. “The war between heaven and hell still rages, but in a different way. When I challenged the creator for his throne, a great war began. The scripture says that I lost this war, and I was cast down, but this is a lie.”

  “A lie, so what really happened?” Gestapo was intrigued.

  “There was a truce, and I was given my own kingdom to rule because the creator loved us all so much, he didn’t want any more of his children lost to the abyss,” Lucifer explained. “I was given dominion over punishment of the wicked.”

  “So you won?” Gestapo asked.

  “The war was going badly, so I settled,” Lucifer confided, “but in the end I was cheated!”

  “Cheated? You agreed to rule in hell rather than serve in heaven, how were you cheated?” Gestapo asked.

  “I will never have enough power to overthrow the creator as long as I rule in hell,” Lucifer explained, “because of this place.” Lucifer pointed to his surroundings.

  “What is this place?” Gestapo asked.

  “Why this is purgatory,” Lucifer said. “In this place, all but the most wicked of souls are allowed to remain. In here, souls that should be mine are given a second chance to repent. This, is where I get cheated.”

  “So I could stay here and ask for forgiveness?” Gestapo asked.

  “Not you, you have committed many mortal sins,” Lucifer said. “You are already mine. You only remain here because of my will. I can take you at any time.”

  “So what do you want from me?” Gestapo asked.

  “If you will swear allegiance to me, I will grant you power, immortality, and wealth,” Lucifer said. “If you decline, you will be sent to hell for a very, very, very long time.”

  “I thought hell was eternal,” Gestapo said.

  “Another lie perpetuated by the scripture, but mostly my fault. I have twisted the creator’s messages since the beginning of mankind,” Lucifer replied. “Think of hell as a prison, and when your sentence is complete, you are allowed to return to earth to be reborn.”

  “Reincarnation?” Gestapo asked. “How is that possible?”

  “Yes, even in hell, the creator makes sure you get a second chance to gain entry into heaven,” Lucifer replied. “Another way he maintains his power base and diminishes mine.”

  “So if I agree to this, what do I lose?” Gestapo asked. “What must I give up?”

  “Your soul, it would belong to me forever,” Lucifer replied. “You will forfeit any chance of ever entering heaven.”

  “So you want me to give up heaven and serve you?” Gestapo asked. “Giving up any chance of entering heaven seems like a steep price to pay.”

  “Heaven is overrated,” Lucifer said. “Mortals tire of it often and choose to return to earth every day.”

  “Heaven isn’t eternal either?” Gestapo asked.

  “It can be, but everyone there has a choice; a choice to return and live again on earth,” Lucifer said. “It is mortal man’s greatest gift and flaw, free will.”

  “Why would anyone ever leave the kingdom of heaven?” Gestapo tried to determine if the prince of lies was telling him the truth.

  “That is an excellent question,” Lucifer said. “The answer lies in the human spirit. You see, in heaven, there is no suffering, no pain, and no hunger. Everything you need is provided for you, and you want for nothing.”

  “That sounds like a great place to be,” Gestapo acknowledged.

  “Does it?” Lucifer asked. “In heaven there are no challenges, no struggles, nothing to measure yourself by. How long do you think someone as ambitious as you would last there, a year, ten, maybe one hundred? Eventually, you would yearn for the taste of battle or the struggle of a new challenge, and you would return to earth and be reborn.”

  “You are correct in this. I cannot sit around without a duty to perform.” Gestapo was sure of what he wanted. “What do I do?”

  “So you swear your allegiance to me?” Lucifer asked.

  “I so swear, I will serve,” Gestapo replied. “I will do anything you ask.” Lucifer produced his wrist and slit it with a talon like nail on his other hand.

  “Drink of my blood, and you will gain unimaginable power,” Lucifer said. “I will expect great things from you.” Gestapo kneeled and grabbed the slashed wrist and lapped up the blood eagerly.

  “Welcome to the war soldier,” Lucifer said. “Now, we can begin another great line.”

  “I am ready,” Gestapo said. Lucifer placed his arm around Gestapo, and they walked down the streets in purgatory, and in those moments, The Reich was created.

  ***

  Present day New Orleans LA.

  “My Führer!” Frieda cried out as she ran into a large cathedral-like room made of black marble. She was obviously distressed.

  Gestapo watched as she ran into his throne room and said, “Lieutenant, why are you here and not in Florida?”

  “My apologies, sir, but Miami is lost to us,” Frieda replied and knelt down before him. “It was not my fault, sir.”

  “What do you mean, we have lost Miami?” Gestapo asked.

  “A very powerful vampire attacked the New Berlin,” Frieda explained. “He killed everyone, every vampire, and then destroyed the New Berlin.”

  “What?” Gestapo said. “How was this done?”

  “I’m not sure, sir,” Frieda said. “When I returned to the New Berlin, it had been consumed by a sinkhole. It seemed unnatural.”

  “Who is this vampire?” Gestapo asked. “Did you see his face? Did he have a mark on his forehead? Was he an Old One?”

  “I did see his face, on several occasions, and it bore no mark upon his brow,” Frieda replied.

  “When did you first encounter him?” Gestapo asked.

  “He was living among the Foundlings, and when we took the Jew girl, as you commanded, and he came for her,” Frieda replied. Gestapo closed his eyes, and Frieda coul
d see rapid movements of his eyes.

  “Suddenly her soul is missing,” Gestapo informed.

  “We killed her, sir. I saw the ash and sand,” Frieda said defensively.

  “I did have her soul, so I know she met her final death.” Gestapo stroked his chin gently. “Odd that I cannot sense her soul now. What can you tell me about our newfound enemy?”

  “Only that he was extremely powerful,” Frieda said. “He killed Hans and Commander von Bock and killed them easily.”

  “So he followed you from the building to the resort?” Gestapo asked.

  “Yes, and no one survived,” Frieda replied.

  “Were any mortals killed?” Gestapo asked.

  “No, there were no injuries. Everyone was evacuated before the building was swallowed by the earth.”

  “Aha,” Gestapo said. “I think an old player has reentered the game. I was hoping to face him someday.”

  “You know who it is?” Frieda asked.

  “I believe so,” Gestapo replied happily. “Anna.” A beautiful and slender woman walked into the light from behind Gestapo’s throne. Anna Schmid was Gestapo’s wartime mistress, and now served as his closest aide and concubine. He chose her over his own wife to join him as part of the Reich. She and Frieda exchanged hateful glances.

  “Yes, my love,” Anna replied.

  “I want a full dossier worked up on Abigail Gottlieb. I want to know what makes her so special, besides the obvious. I want to know everything about her. Tell me about her friends and her family. Get me everything.”

  “Yes, my Führer,” Anna replied and stepped back into the shadows.

  “Frieda,” Gestapo said.

  “Yes, my Führer,” Frieda replied.

  “Activate everyone! I want the Order of the Second Life destroyed! Finally, a war worthy of my great Bloodline.” Gestapo leaned back in his chair and began to laugh. His maniacal laughs echoed throughout the room.