The Summoning
Standing at the altar where an obelisk held its ground, Karl was watching the clock, rain coming down heavily falling off of the beak of his cap, hitting the stone and cobbled ground. Hands behind his back, someone came up to him, Otto, a very trusted man with him.
“Herr, sind Sie sich da sicher?”
(Sir, are you sure about this?)
He asked cautiously; Karl wasn’t a patient man.
“Ich bin mir da ganz sicher, die Männer müssen in Position gebracht werden.”
(I’m perfectly sure about this; get the men in position.)
He commanded, and without a second thing, Otto started to orchestrate it; they started lining up and paying attention. In the shadows a religious figure waited; Karl looked at him, then he looked at the two SS (Schutzstaffel) ranking officers behind him, lifting his hand in a circular motion as they started to walk. The priest in front. The two officers behind the priest held him by the arm, making sure he wouldn’t be going anywhere even though the cuffs they had him in were quite tight.
“Nun… Ist er bereit?”
(Now… is he ready?)
Karl watches the man's face for any signs of discomfort; the priest closes his eyes, trying to avoid eye contact with him.
“Jawohl.”
(Yes sir.)
The officer on the right nodded to confirm; they released their grip and undid the cuffs.
“Warum bin ich hier?”
(Why am I here?)
Karl laughed and spat at the question.
“Du weisst…”
(You know…)
Fear filled him as one of the officers handed him a bible, but it was a little different; on the front was a pentagram sewn on. Opening the book revealed all sorts of Latin phrases. Opening the book, he felt a surge of energy he hadn’t felt before; he knew this was wrong, though it was either this or death.
“Mach schon, wir haben nicht den ganzen Tag Zeit..."
(Get on with it; we don’t have all day…)
Karl commanded once again; the priest took a breath, silently praying. Karl, pointing to a line on the page, told him to read from there, outloud. He started speaking almost in tongues yet still coherent; for the first few words nothing happened, though, continuing the page speaking aloud. The obelisk whirred like a bullroar. With even more of the Latin, the ground started vibrating; everyone could feel it in their feet. The priest stopped for a moment, and everything toned down.
“Hör nicht auf!”
(Don’t stop!)
Karl took the Luger out of his pocket and held it against his head, enough motive to keep him speaking; once he did, it got more intense. When he got to the final line, the wind picked up and the sky grew darker and had a red tinge; a few soldiers on the outer edges turned on floodlights. The book flew out of the hand of the priest and landed on the ground; Karl looked around frantically in confusion. A beam of light shone through the tick clouds and hit the top of the obelisk. Where the dead rest started to be disturbed, a soldier went over to one that seemed to be moving more than the wind had been pushing it. He kneeled down and put his hand on the shoulder to flip; the body spun around quickly and started clawing at him.
