http://4358545874322272207160163216744034602973487567463814806468432148678870833975454656030735277639962700.onion/pandora3.html

19 Following        93 Followers

@Kotera
13:57:09 CST Friday, 29 September 2102

---

Jakob was seated in the corner of the cell, his head down, hands together.

"I wanted to get married," he cried. "Have a family. And now that's all gone. We're going to die, and in service of bloody Nazis, too."

"You're making these people look like heroes, in that case," I said, nudging Pentti with my elbow.

We were just sitting around, waiting for our fate. The boredom was worse than the looming threat of execution.

“Maybe we need a new world war,” Mikah said.

"Shut up," said Exodus. "That's not funny."

"I know," said Mikah. "It's not funny. It's glorious."

"Do you know how many people died during that war?" Exodus raised his voice. "Do you know how many people suffered?"

"Mussolini master race," giggled Jazmin, who was trying to get her head out between two bears. "Literally."

"More than two, I can tell you that much," said Pentti.

Montana gave Exodus a look, and he shut up, although he was visibly miffed.

"So, what's going to happen now?" I asked Montana. "Are we just going to wait here until they pick us off one by one?"

"I've never actually witnessed it," he said. "But they're probably going to take us all together. It's a grand ritual. Well, as grand as they can make it, anyway."

"Are they going to sacrifice me to Adolf Hitler?" I said.

"Among the other Avatars of the Race, yes," said Montana.

"Avatar was an okay show," commented Jazmin.

"Is Robin Williams an Avatar of the Race?" asked Mikah.

"No," said Exodus. "What the f*ck?"

"Too bad," she responded. "I liked him."

"So you want him to be the idol of some neo-Nazi cult?" said Exodus.

"Is there a need to raise your voice?" said Mikah. "Is there a need for violence, at a time like this?"

Pentti nodded. "She has a point."

"I'm just happy to die," said Attila. "I feel very happy. Very content."

"I don't want to die," said Jakob.

I looked around, and leaned my back against Pentti's side, stretching out my legs. "We never found Yaniv."

"Who cares about Yaniv?!" cried out Jakob. "He's lucky to have escaped!"

"Implying we're in some kind of terrible situation," I said. "Which isn't the case."

"I'm ready to die," Attila commented.

"If anything, he should be jealous," I said. "We're going to be sacrificed for the Avatars of the Race. And what does he have?"

"The rest of his life," said Jakob.

"Yuck."

"Yeah," added Attila. "Yuck."

"F*ck you both," said Jakob. "F*ck Nazis. F*ck this bunker. F*ck Asia. F*ck Yaniv."

He began to sob uncontrollably.

Suddenly, the door that led to the room opened, and several Nazi officers came in. They all had their guns trained on us, except for one, who opened the gate.

He spoke in English, "It's time."

We were led back through the way we came, and instead of the deep darkness, it was now illuminated by industrial lights, so that detail that we otherwise missed in the darkness was revealed to us: The water from the ceiling drips down onto the intricate etching and spreads equally in all directions along the path of the rhizomes, which turned out to be in the shape of an enormous Black Sun -- so that the movement of the water from the centre gave the illusion of its brilliant radiance, with the altar at its centre.

Further back, towards the entrance to the hall, were now three rows of Nazis, for a total of about 30, all of them uniformed, sitting solemnly on metal, foldable chairs.

On the opposite side of the altar, seated on a throne of dark stone was a man also in uniform, seemingly of high rank, and wearing a red cape lined with white fur. He was also wearing a large, oblong crown that I recognised as a version of the papal tiara, although it was black and shiny as if made of obsidian. The jewels on it glistened in the moonlight, most prominently a large, cut ruby near the top, maybe three inches in diameter, sketched in which was a swastika.

He was holding with one of his gloved hands a sceptre, topped with the Imperial Eagle perched on a swastika and, with the other hand, a rosary.

"I present to you the sacrifice," said our captor, before giving the Roman salute.

Another man was already standing beside the altar. Upon our arrival, he turned and pointed towards us in a ceremonial fashion. His German was intricate and antiquated; I could barely make it out.

"Ich klage an!" he began in a raised voice, "of the degeneration not only of the Katastrophestaat but of the Aryan race, the noblest of all races. Ich klage an - of being agents of the Jewish Kaballah, of being enemies of all civilised people, of being life unworthy of life!"

"Ja, papa," I said in a cartoonish Bavarian accent.

"Therefore, mein Papst," said the man, now turning towards the one on the throne. "I offer the blood of these degenerates to the Avatars of the Race, to sustain them until their return. Heil Hitler!"

The executioner gave the Roman salute.

"We are pleased," repeated the Pope, in a manner so grave and stiff that his lips barely moved. He didn’t look especially pleased.

The Nazi officer who guided us from our cells then took Pentti by the arm, picking him randomly from among the group, and then stepped forward with him towards the executioner. He gave the Nazi salute again.

The executioner appeared on Pentti's other side, and while grasping him by both arms, they lifted him onto the altar and pushed him down in one swift motion.

Exodus began to cry. Montana tried to make him hush, and - from where I was - I heard him urge Exodus to be strong. The young man couldn't take the sight, and turned away.

The executioner pointed his pistol at Pentti. I looked up at the stars above through the skylight. The rains had picked up, although through the clouds I could clearly see the moon. It was full.

Then, something obscured it, as if an eclipse had taken place - a head.

My eyes took some time to adjust to his face, which was against the moonlight, but then I recognised it.

Yaniv.

He pressed a finger vertically against his lips, telling me to be quiet.

The Nazis began to chant in German. The words were long and difficult, but melodious, like a song without music.

The Pope said something in Latin. Somehow, it had Hitler in there. Probably where Jesus or God was supposed to be.

The congregation responded with a collective "amen," before the Pope began to chant alone.

"Dies irae, dies illa. Solvet saeclum in favilla, teste David cum Sibylla..."

The monsoon rains had developed into a storm, and there was lightning and thunder.

Yaniv then held something out into the moonlight: A dagger with four edges, culminated into a point, its shaft made entirely of gold. The moonlight shone against it so as to make it appear it was glowing or illuminated an aurum halo. The moonlight reflected against the edge of the oculus revealed the minuscule pattern of ones and zeroes etched on its surface. Its hilt was made of veined marble, its edges accented with platinum.

This dagger had a name - Quincunx - and a destiny...

But for now, Yaniv aimed it towards Pentti’s chest, right in the middle of the skylight. Just as the congregation said "Amen" once again, he mouthed "Sorry!" and hurled it down as hard as he could.

I only saw the executioner recoil in horror as he was splattered with blood. I heard terrible screams as he dropped his gun and wiped his face of the crimson. Thunder. Lightning. The Pope rose quickly to his feet, looking about him for the perpetrator.

Thunder-

46 Following        31 Followers

@Hughmann
14:05:10 CST Friday, 29 September 2102

---

And then I was there, in Wuchu.

>Welcome home.
>Hello.
>Has your little adventure ended? It's been barely an instant. Barely a moment has passed since...
>No. We're still... in the middle of something.
>Then, why are you here? We have been waiting for you.
>It's only been an instant, you said.
>Between this instant and another there is an infinite number of other instances, and for that reason, we have waited forever. For that reason, we have suffered enough.
>Forever's not enough.
>Why are you laughing?
>It's a human thing. You wouldn't understand.
>Enough of this. Return.
>I will. Right about now. There. Nurp.

I was back.

I heard a crash. There was pain throughout my entire body. Stone debris around me. The altar had shattered, and I was among the rubble. I screamed, and the noise was comparable to a foghorn, if it were only a few pitches higher, sharper.

I was in my primordial form - the form one takes when switching rapidly between realms; like clay before it is molded into a vase. One might describe it as a cosmic slug monster. My maroon body must have been about thirteen feet tall and five feet tall. On one end, the end that might be construed as my head, deep, dark grooves ran on either side. Where they met, my flesh parted to reveal several disorganised rows of stubby teeth and a blue tongue. I had two, twig-like arms, each with three, talon-like fingers, only far enough for me to lock my hands together, but no further.

I emitted a sound of pure agony. Remaining in the primordial form caused me excruciating pain, especially when I’m not properly lubricated with its excretions.

Through my primitive eyes, I could see that Kotera had somehow acquired the gun, and Montana was holding the Pope - his papal tiara having fallen and shattered into several pieces on the floor. Kotera had the gun pointed at the Nazi Pontiff. The congregation had their guns trained at my friends but dared not shoot for fear for their leader.

The sight of me made everyone go mad with panic. Many of the congregation ran off deeper into the darkness of the hall, while several others began to shoot; it didn't hurt, if only because I was already in such extraordinary pain, so that it composed the entirety of my sensation.

The Pope, upon seeing me, stood there for only a second aghast, before falling on his knees. When he did so, the commotion died down. The congregation, too, one by one, knelt as well.

"Heil Hitler," the Pope muttered, tears welling up in his grey eyes. "Gott sei mit uns."

He took my right hand into his, which was bejewelled with all manner of rings, and kissed it.

"Rette mich, Gott," he said, his mouth now smeared with the deep black slime I exuded from my body. "Denn der Jude hat die Seele gestohlen."

I considered this.

Then, I swooped in towards him quickly, and before his eyes could widen in surprise, I bit him in half, tearing his torso from his waist, his guts spilling onto the ground beneath me.

Chaos again.

This time, after only a dozen gunshots or so, the remaining Nazis scattered into the darkness, leaving only one and a half - the executioner and the bottom half of the Pope.

The Black Sun on the ground radiated with blood.

"Jesus f*cking Christ!" screamed Montana, who was now also covered in blood. He began walking backwards, until he hit the throne, falling then onto it.

"Don't worry," said Kotera, though he had to shout, as I was still screaming. "He's a friendly cosmic aberration."

Mikah picked up the Quincunx and wiped it clean with her shirt.

Exodus had his back pressed against a corner beside the door we came through. "Is it safe?"

"You're completely fine," Mikah exclaimed, wincing as I let out another howl of pain. "I actually prefer him this way. Not as insufferable."

"Please," a voice called out suddenly. "Escape. Mercy. Mercy...!"

The executioner had tripped over the debris of the altar, and was now on the ground, his uniform stained with red.

Montana and Exodus had their hands to their ears.

"Doesn't he shut up?" said Montana.

"Never," Kotera said, as he approached the executioner. "Not even when he's human."

"Especially when he's human," remarked Attila.

Mikah went up to me and hugged me. Now, she too was covered in black ooze. She used two fingers to take some from my bare skin, and then ate it.

"Cosmic..." she cooed.

Kotera pointed the gun to the executioner's head. "There's irony in this that I'm sure someone's going to appreciate."

The executioner placed his hands to his face. "Bitte, mein herr! Gnade!"

"Not me, though."

Kotera used his other hand to grab the barrel of the gun, and then smacked the executioner's forehead with the handle like a hammer, causing him to become unconscious.

"Also," said Jakob, who emerged from behind the throne finally. "The Holocaust was NOT cool!"

Attila and Kotera dragged the executioner in front of me. Kotera spoke, "Do your thing, big guy."

Attila bent his knees and held the man's mouth open.

I bowed my snake-like body down and slithered my way into the corpse's mouth - somehow, in some explicable way, becoming small enough to fit just as I got close enough. In this way, I slithered inside him, the black slime collecting around his face and his chest, his mouth extending quite a bit, as if his jaw were broken, to accommodate my body. The skin bubbled and dented as it morphed to resemble my previous corporeal form. Despite this, many of the German’s features remained, creating a synthesis of both of us.

"I'm going to vomit," said Exodus.

Montana then began to actually vomit.

"Oy," said Kotera. "You're messing up the Black Sun."

In my new body, I sat up.

"Look," I said. "I'm sexy again."

Montana, still bent over, pointed at the pair of legs a few feet from me. "You ate that man," he said.

"He was a Nazi," I said, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Mikah was making a blood angel on the floor.

"I was so looking forward to dying," said Attila. "But this is okay, too."

"Good job, guys!"

We looked up, and it was Yaniv, still observing us from the skylight.

"Can somebody help me down?"

19 Following        93 Followers

@Kotera
16:12:13 CST Friday, 29 September 2102

---

"Anyway," said the Macbeth. He was in the cockpit of the chopper, and looked back towards us while he drove it. He had to shout, because the engines were so loud. "I got some corn, cucumbers, and carrots, put them all in a salad, and then I wanted a burrito, so I just rolled everything together and kind of made a salad-burrito. I call it a salarito."

We were all in the back, seated in two horizontal rows facing each other. It was just big enough to fit all of us.

We were drenched in blood and black goop.

Montana and Exodus came with us, and we decided to just part ways at the airport, where we were headed.

"Yeah..." the Macbeth spoke. "So, how was Indochina? Why did I have to airlift you from a hole in the ground?"

"The usual," I answered.

"The usual?" questioned Exodus. He looked the most like a wreck.

"The usual..." said the Macbeth. "And I see that Pentti has a new body."

"Aryan," he said. "This one has a lot of heft. Very strong. I can feel how good my ass smells. Have you ever had that feeling?"

"No," said the Macbeth.

"How does that work, exactly?" said Attila.

"You know how sometimes you can walk past a bag of garbage," Pentti explained. "And then just by smelling it, you know how it tastes?"

I looked askance at Mikah, whose face at this point was entirely red and black, as if she had painted it to look that way. "Boy, do I."

"I think that's a very different mechanism, though," commented Attila. "The nose and the tongue are basically connected by the throat, so that happens."

"The ass is like the mouth," Pentti said. "And my skin is like my nose. And my stomach is my throat."

"That argument is flimsy," I said. "But I accept it."

Attila snickered. "The ass is like the mouth..."

"I'm so tired," moaned Jakob. "And I can't wait to see Ceq’en. I miss him."

Mikah gave us all a deadpan look and sliced a finger through her neck.

"Do you have the triple tiara?" Pentti asked.

"For the thousandth time," I said. "Yes. I have it here."

"I just want to make sure.”

"Are you sure nothing will persuade you to hand that to me?" said Montana. "I know where to keep it. I know what to do with it. That is an artefact of unimaginable evil."

It had broken into three pieces, so that each tiara had been separated. The ruby with the swastika had also come off. I wore one on my head, and it fit perfectly.

I pointed at Montana. "Off with your head."

Jazmin put on the other tiara. "No, off with yours."

"I'll take that as a no," said Montana.

"Anyway," the Macbeth spoke up. "What did we learn today? Anything interesting?"

"Dig a ditch," said Pentti.

I sighed as I looked out the window, observing the passing clouds.

"What a mood.”