Hellspawn Hunter

This isn't your grandma's séance.

I’ll be damned, it’s all real. Magic, alchemy, raising the dead—all of it. If you had told me two days ago what I’d see first-hand in Prague, I’d have laughed you out of the room. Not anymore.

Professor Klimek’s death was a blow, for sure. He left me with more questions than answers, but I guess that’s just how this sort of thing works. Before he was killed, Klimek was able to show me how to tune the medallion and draw energy with it. When the medallion was created, recharging the crystal would’ve been near impossible, having to rely on lightning and other natural sources of electricity. Now it isn’t too easy. I can draw energy from everything from cars to light bulbs to radios. It’ll take some time to learn to use the medallion properly, but I don’t think I’m going to have any problem finding “target dummies” to practice on.

Klimek wasn’t able to enlighten me on the more nuanced aspects of his order, so I don’t even really know who or what I’m fighting for. One thing I know for sure is who I’m after: “Count” Wilmar von Riehl.

When the Austrians abolished the nobility after the war, Riehl never got the memo. He wants the medallion for himself, so my narrow escape in Prague isn’t the end. He’s a collector of antiquities and cookie-cutter occultist with too much generational wealth. What makes him dangerous is his egomania, that and the army of bloodthirsty thugs he employs. Getting through them won’t be a problem—it’s getting through whatever he’s planning to conjure up that I’m worried about. He’ll throw everything he’s got at me. But he won’t have to search for long. I’m coming to him.

He’s got a castle on a hill above a town called Kreuzdorf north-west of Vienna along the Danube. That’s where I’m headed.

#

I managed to slip into Vienna on a freight train from Czechoslovakia. Not the most comfortable ride I’ve ever had, but I get the feeling this little adventure isn’t going to involve champagne and caviar and hotel suites. There will be time for that when this is all done.

I made contact with another member of Professor Klimek’s order at an inn in the city—Gregor. He’s a boatman who knows a way to get into the castle’s underground levels through the medieval sewers that empty into the Danube. My day just keeps getting better.

There’s also word of a high-profile guest joining Riehl at the castle. I’m going to scout out the place from a safe distance before I go in tonight.

#

Riehl’s men have been unloading trucks all day. Something big is going down tonight. Whoever Riehl’s guest is, he’s aiming to impress. He’s holding some kind of big ceremony. What it is is anyone’s guess, but I doubt it’s your run-of-the-mill cocktail party and séance.

#

I met Gregor just after sunset at the river by St. Ruprecht’s Church. When he said he had a boat, I didn’t expect it to be a dinghy. Probably for the best, though. Anything with a motor might not be inconspicuous enough for what I have to do.

Gregor doesn’t know much about his order, and couldn’t tell me anything about Professor Klimek, either. It seems that these men have devoted their lives to scholarly pursuits instead of worldly ones. It’s no wonder they weren’t prepared for someone like Riehl. Their commitment to their duty was a superficial one until now. Their first real challenge in over a century is proving to be a difficult one. That isn’t to say their research won’t be of use to me, but when push comes to shove they don’t have what it takes to fight back, not yet at least.

It took only a few minutes for us to arrive at the entrance to the sewers. A watery cave in the side of the hill shored up with great cut stone blocks. The iron grate that had once protected the entrance from intruders had corroded away enough that a man could slip through. A man, but not a boat, so I had to get a little wet. Gregor wished me luck and I went on my way.

#

The water was ice cold but that isn’t what bothered me. I didn’t find a single guard down there. Incompetence doesn’t fit Riehl, but then maybe his arrogance got the better of him.

I found a ladder in a shaft that took me into the lower levels of the castle. It deposited me in a disused storage room. I call it disused, but the whole damn castle hadn’t been lived in full time for half a century. It was nothing but cobwebs and dust.

These floors were crawling with Riehl’s goons. They didn’t cause too much trouble for me—and thick castle walls make for great sound barriers.

I overheard a couple of guards talking about their new arrivals. Apparently Riehl’s important guest had brought his own army with him and they were bossing around Riehl’s guys like they owned the place. Got to love a little villain infighting.

I worked my way through the kitchens and servants’ quarters before I crossed the walkway that connects to the main castle. On my way, I scouted out the castle courtyard. There, I saw some of the men Riehl’s guards were talking about. They weren’t exaggerating. Heavily armed paramilitary types, uniforms and everything. Not your average thugs-for-hire Riehl could afford. These guys were volunteers. I didn’t recognize their insignias but I’m sure everything will become apparent soon enough.

The doors into the entrance hall to the castle were locked, so I had to clamber up the exterior wall of the castle to find a way in. I’m not exactly the most nimble guy out there, so it was a struggle, all the while having to make sure I didn’t get spotted by any of the guards so I didn’t become target practice for them. They were running a generator in the courtyard that powered some floodlights. I used the medallion to draw power from the generator and kill the lights. Worked like a charm. They got the lights back on soon enough, but I bought myself enough time to slip by undetected.

A broken window in one of the castle towers was my point of entry.

#

I snaked my way through the main castle without too much difficulty. The place was crawling with armed guards but I knew how to handle them well enough.

I reached the main hall of the castle and hung back in the shadows. The room was filled with people in long hooded robes gathered around a circular altar in the center. The room was littered with candles and covered in dark fabrics with a language I didn’t recognize painted on them. I could’ve broken up the party then and there but I was too curious to find out what was going on.

A minute later Riehl and another man entered the room. I’d never seen the second man before, but I could tell right away he was the special guest this whole thing was for. He wore a robe like the others but he wore the hood off, and had knightly symbols embroidered all over it. He looked like some kind of monk with his glasses and cropped hair. From the moment he walked into the room, I knew he was the one in charge, not Riehl. Shortly thereafter, the ceremony began.

Riehl began reading from a large tome in Latin—it was clear he was showing off the fruits of a private education. The rest of the enrobed attendants repeated back what Riehl said in a low, melodic tone. The monk in the glasses stayed in the back, silently observing. Riehl stopped speaking for a moment, produced a small figurine in the shape of a man, and placed it in the center of the altar. He issued a command with a wave of his hand to some unseen henchmen and stepped back from the altar.

It was then that I noticed the four Tesla coil towers in each corner of the room. Seconds later, someone threw a switch and they all exploded to life with crackling, buzzing, blue electric bolts.

Riehl began reading again from the text aloud, and the attendants repeated as before. One by one, the electric energy arced to the figurine until all four towers made connection. The figurine quickly began to glow red from the immense heat it conducted from the electricity.

The brighter the figurine glowed, the louder and more energetic Riehl’s incantation became. A number of the attendants were visibly uncomfortable with what was occurring, and began to back away from the altar and stop their recitations entirely. The entire castle vibrated with the incredible energy that was concentrated.

The figurine deformed, melting in on itself until it was nothing but a spreading pool of molten metal on the altar.

It was clear Riehl didn’t know what he was dealing with. The electricity arced uncontrollably, reaching out to the chandeliers and candelabras and even to some of the attendants who dropped dead instantaneously. Those attendants who, for now, were still alive fled for their lives, only to discover the hall had been locked from the outside. Riehl ordered them to stay where they were, but his commands fell on deaf ears.

Then, as quickly as it had peaked, everything fell silent. The candles were snuffed out. The electric towers died. All that remained in the room was the white-hot, bubbling puddle of molten matter on the altar.

Riehl stepped towards the altar. I could plainly see the madness in his eyes.

Something rose from the puddle as if standing from a crouch, frightening even Riehl who stumbled backwards. It was a figure in the shape of man, like the figurine from which it came.

Riehl, sweat pouring down his face, smiled, and began laughing maniacally. The monk remained frozen behind him, stony-faced in the shadows.

The figure stood before Riehel seven or eight feet tall. The molten metal on its exterior cooled, sloughing off like a snake shedding its skin. Beneath the metal was an entity of blue plasma, still in the vague shape of a man.

As Riehl turned back to the monk, the plasma engulfed him. He screamed, pleaded, tried to shake the energy off his body, but it was in vain. The plasma poured into him through his eyes, mouth, and ears in what must have been the most excruciating pain imaginable. He jerked around, his limbs twisting grotesquely, then it stopped. Riehl straightened himself and stood with his back to the monk. The monk stepped forward and kneeled before Riehl, bowing his head.

Riehl opened his eyes, and from them drifted wisps of blue plasma. The veins beneath his skin glowed a faint blue as well. He turned and faced the kneeling monk.

“Servus tuus sum, dominus. I am your servant, master,” the monk said to Riehl.

When Riehl replied, he spoke as if two distinct voices came from within him: his own, and some other deep, malformed voice—like a synchronous echo.

“Where am I?/ Úbi sum?”

“You have returned to the earthly plane, my lord,” The monk replied.

“Then there is still work to be done. Rise. Who are you?”

The monk rose before the being but kept his head lowered. “I am Georg Eberhard von Türnitz, my lord.”

I got a name, now I’d seen enough. I stepped out of the shadows and faced the being and Türnitz. The two of them quickly noticed my presence.

“Who are you?” Türnitz demanded.

“The name’s Victor Reed, and I’m here to crash this welcome home party.” I replied most confidently.

I pointed the medallion at them and... nothing. The summoning must have zapped the energy from it.

#

After being thrown around like a ragdoll for a couple minutes, I decided to cut my losses and leave. The entity threw me through the great hall’s double doors giving me a perfect, albeit painful, exit path.

Türnitz sicced his guards on me, so while that blue eyed hellspawn chased me, I had to fight my way to the courtyard through Türnitz’ men.

When I made it to the courtyard, I stole one of the trucks that was parked there and floored it through the castle’s wooden gate leaving Türnitz, the demon, and his goons in the dust.

#

I ditched the truck and walked to the inn Gregor and I had set as our meeting place after, or if, I made it out. I told Gregor everything I had seen at Kreuzdorf, including Türnitz’ identity.

Gregor knew Türnitz. He’s an ex-monk, kicked out of his order for dabbling in the occult and mysticism. I’d say he’s more than a dabbler. Gregor suggested that the demon (that’s what he called it) was in a weakened state, and that the longer it was on Earth the stronger it would become. That would’ve been nice to know when I had a chance to take it down. We adapt. The demon is using Riehl as a corporeal vessel.

It’s unlikely Türnitz and the demon will stay at Kreuzdorf. Gregor tells me Türnitz has a base of operations in the Alps in South Tyrol at an abandoned monastery near Bolzano. I guess that’s where I’m headed next.

Gregor gave me a book he took from his order’s library that reads like a user’s manual for the medallion. With luck, next time I have a chance to destroy that demon I’ll be able to hold my own. I’m learning, just like everyone.