Chapter 9

She glanced around the room and found that the horror continued. The place was littered with long-decayed corpses. Skeletal corpses with the same monstrous structure as the corpse suspended on the stage, tossed into haphazard piles. Dozens of bodies. Perhaps over a hundred.

Rachel walked down the stairs between the rows of amphitheater benches and the piles of mutated corpses towards the suspended corpse. She needed to examine it more closely.

It was not, as Schmidt suggested, a grafting of humans with animals. There was no distinct delineation between body parts to indicate any transplantation. The head transitioned seamlessly to the neck, the torso to the arms, and the waist to the legs. There were no surgical scars. The musculature, the progression of the decomposition — this lupine creature was no amalgamation.

Something painted on the wall behind the corpse caught Rachel’s attention. Rachel turned her eyes to find a circular symbol consisting of many symmetrical, geometric shapes. A symbol that, like many other things found in this chamber, did not belong in a medical research facility. A sigil of some sort.

“Herr Schmidt, look at that.”

Schmidt aimed his flashlight at the symbol. The light seemed to be swallowed by the black paint.

“The significance of this symbol escapes me,” Rachel said.

“It is the Schwarze Sonne,” Schmidt answered.

“The Black Sun. A common symbol of the SS. It is supposed to represent the energy source of Hyperborea.”

“The northern lands from ancient Greek legends?”

“The promised land of the Aryan race.”

Rachel returned her gaze to the monstrous corpse. “I’ve heard that Nazis were quite fond of occult rituals but this… I don’t know what to make of it.”

“I know a woman who could help us get to the bottom of this,” Schmidt answered.

“Indeed,” Rachel answered. Not a few hours ago, she had despondently worried that Schmidt would put a damper on her investigation, but now, she was grateful for his presence and encouraged by his response to all that they had witnessed so far. At the very least, it meant that whatever grotesque crimes were committed here, he was innocent of it. For that reason, she felt it appropriate now to tell him everything.

“I have something to confess to you, Herr Schmidt, that I was not entirely forthright with you. Isolde came to my apartment last night. She was the one who told me about this place.”

Schmidt was taken aback. His brows furled with confusion.

“Isolde? The rector’s daughter, Isolde?”

“That’s impossible.”

“As it were, it is not. She was the one at my apartment last night. Well, she, or a soul in possession of her body. That part I’m still trying to figure out. That was how I got this lead.”

Schmidt stared at her for a moment, then blinked several times as if realizing that what she had just claimed was the lesser of all the crazy things he had encountered today.

“What makes you sure she’s possessed?”

“She said so herself.”

“And you believe her?”

“I’m still not sure what I’m willing to believe.”

“What else did she say?”

“Not much else. Only that she hadn’t trusted me yet to tell me everything, only that I should come here to find what I’m looking for.”

“I see. Well, we’ve certainly found something.”

He pointed his flashlight beam at the creature. The harsh light that touched the creature’s gaunt figure made it writhe with shadows.

“It’s a werewolf,” Rachel said.

“The lycanthropic virus,” Schmidt replied. “This must be what the virus does.”

“And the wolf register: I have a strong suspicion that was the list of test subjects they tested the virus on.”

Schmidt turned his flashlight to the skeletal corpses that littered the stone platform around the suspended corpse.

“They’re all werewolves,” Rachel said.

“There are dozens of them,” Schmidt responded. “Just as there are dozens of names in the registry. Mein Gott.”

His eyes went wide. “The people that have worked here. The rector…”

“They all have been involved,” Rachel replied, knowing that by ‘they’, he meant the two murdered scientists, Rauschenberg and Schulz, as well as Doctor Bauer, the coroner, and of course, the rector. She, more than anyone else, would have known about this research if that is what this could be called.

After all that had come to light, she had more questions than answers. But she started to see the thread that connected everything. A fragile thread. Spider silk glinting in a sunbeam. But it was there. It was undeniable. The murders, gashes made by claws. The nazi symbols on the victims’ chests. Rauschenberg’s memory of his own death.

“Isolde,” Rachel whispered. “She is a werewolf too.”

“I saw it in Rauschenberg’s memory. She turned into one right before she killed me.”

“Why haven’t you told me all this before?”

“Would you have believed me if I did? I didn’t believe it myself. Memories often lie, after all.”

“So, Isolde killed Rauschenberg and Schulz.”

“No. Whatever soul possesses her body did.”

Schmidt let out a curt laugh. He shook his head in disbelief. Then silence fell between them. The beam of Schmidt’s flashlight dropped to the floor as he breathed in deeply, as he took the moment to take in all that Rachel had just said.

“The daughter of the rector is a werewolf possessed by a vengeful spirit,” he finally murmured.

“I believe so, yes.”

“So, what now, Doctor Blake?”

Rachel opened her tool case and pulled out her henbane.

“If there is still a soul in that werewolf’s body, then I need to try to speak to it. It is our best chance at finding an answer.”

Staring at the vial in her hand, Schmidt asked, “Is it… safe to do so?”

“Whenever I enter Limbo, I expose my soul to the corrosive effects of negative emotions and ill will. If I stay too long, I can lose my soul completely Not a particularly lovely fate if you’d rather like to experience an afterlife.”

“Natürlich. Are you sure it is worth it?”

Schmidt breathed out. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“If it seems I’m in trouble, give me a stout slap on the face. That should bring me back.”

That was a lie. There wasn’t anything Schmidt could do once she crossed over. She could only rely on herself to come back. It wasn’t too hard to come back, though. All she had to do was will it, but then again, she had a habit of staying longer than she needed to. Like quicksand, there was a point of no return in Limbo. She had edged that line on more than one occasion, and, on more occasions, she had nearly never returned. Still, whatever the risk now, it was always better to leave Schmidt with a little peace of mind.

Rachel uncorked the vial and then spooned out the powder.

“Wish me luck,” Rachel said.

“Good luck. Stay safe.”

She nodded, smiled, then put the spoon up to her nostril and gave a very vigorous whiff. The powder immediately speared her brain like a shard of ice. The world turned black. The crackling sound of wind and rain drowned out the silence around her, and the cold snap of limbo wrapped her skin. Already she began to feel the corrosiveness of the cursed souls that lingered here. There were many here. Many more than she anticipated. None, it seemed, were too excited about her presence. They hid from view. They were frightened, and their fright scored her soul intensely. At first glance, the room appeared vacant. The corpses on the ground were nothing more than skeletal husks. The suspended werewolf was a dead cold being. Its soul had long departed. Yet she felt the presence. The fear, the sadness, the unhinged rage manifested as a searing pain ravaged her.

Right when she decided this was not a good idea after all and was about to regress to the mortal plane, a voice stopped her.

“Guten tag, Rachel.”

A familiar voice. Rachel turned to find the iridescent glow of a dismembered soul floating towards her. As it neared, its amorphous form became more corporeal, forming arms, legs, feet, and hands. Hair tied up in a bun. Dainty ears, a dainty nose, and slightly large darting eyes on a petite, attractive face. A face that belonged to the woman in the bio in the office upstairs. This was Doctor Leah Graf.

“Doctor Graf, hello,” Rachel replied.

The soul smiled. She cocked her head in amusement.

“You are indeed a good detective, aren’t you? Please. Call me Leah.”

The way she spoke. The cheerful lilt and the softness of her accent. Rachel recognized that as well. The same way Isolde spoke. This was the soul that possessed Isolde’s body.

“Leah, why did you bring me here?”

Leah snickered. She walked playfully around Rachel, looking her up and down. Rachel swiveled to keep her to the front.

“Why do you think I brought you here, spatz?”

“You wanted to show me this laboratory.”

“You wanted to show me why you’ve murdered two scientists.”

Leah shrugged. She stopped in front of the werewolf corpse and clasped her hands behind her back as she looked away from Rachel, up at the dead, misshapen creature. The smile from her lips disappeared.

“There is a lot more magic in this world than people are willing to see,” Leah said. “Unfortunately, the ones that are willing to see it…”

She looked over her shoulder at Rachel. “Those people can be rather questionable in their ethics.”

Rachel glanced at the werewolf and then back at Leah. There was not an ounce of resemblance between the beast and the petite woman, but she felt the consonant reverberation of life — the raw connection between a soul and her physical being.

“That’s you,” Rachel said quietly.

“Yes,” Leah replied.

“What happened here?”

“Unholy things. Monstrous things. Depravity of the highest order.”

“Do you mind being more specific, Leah? I’m very short on time. Tell me what happened here. What drove you to possess Isolde’s body to murder two scientists?”

Leah smirked. “You’re a soul hunter.”

Rachel nodded. “Yes.”

“And I’m the soul you’re hunting.”

Rachel tensed up. “That’s right.”

“And you need a confession that I had killed those men to mark my soul with the litany, correct?”

“I don’t deserve a better fate than hell. I deserve imprisonment in the deepest circle. Not because of what I did to those two men. But because of what I did to dozens of others that were innocent. I’ll tell you everything Rachel. I’ll show you everything. You’ll have my soul then. But I want something in return.”

“To finish the job.”

“You mean to kill the others that were involved?”

“I can’t let you kill other people, Leah.”

“Maybe you could. If only you saw what I saw.”

“You could’ve killed me last night, Leah. Then you would have all the time in the world.”

Leah smiled. She shrugged her shoulders. “Genau. I’ve seriously considered it, but there’s something about you Rachel. You’re special. You’re a kindred spirit. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt a connection with someone, to feel trust in someone. I’ve been waiting for years for someone like you to come around. I’d rather not spoil the opportunity.

“To have someone on my side. To have someone to lift the rock to show the world what writhing horrors lie just beneath. That’s what I want from you, Rachel. I want you to shed light on everything that happened here. After I exact my revenge, that is.”

“Then show me what happened.”

Leah’s soul smiled. She reached out to Rachel. “Take my hand, and I’ll show you from the beginning.”

Tentatively, Rachel took her hand. Leah’s energy surged into her. She shut her eyes as she felt herself being sucked into a vortex of memories. When she opened them again, she found herself on a quiet tree-lined street on a rainy morning.

“My story begins in Berlin, in the summer of 1926,” said Leah’s voice, an echo in the memory, “When I first met Isolde.”

Rachel recognized Leah running through an afternoon rain shower, a newspaper covering her head to protect her from the rain as she glanced up at the numbers on the doors, stopping when she found the right one. She went up to knock on it, and the door opened to reveal Isolde Fischer on the other side. Golden blonde hair. A beautiful smile. A smile that Leah fell in love with the moment she saw it.

“We were dorm mates at the University of Berlin. We became very close friends. Serendipitously, her mother was a professor in my chosen field of study. Pharmacology.”

Rachel felt Leah whisk her to another memory. This time she found herself sitting at a dinner table. At the head of the table was Sabine Fischer. On the side which Rachel sat at was Isolde and Leah. The trio were enjoying a simple pasta dinner.

“Doctor Fischer took me under her wing. I was often invited over for dinner.”

The trio laughed as Doctor Fischer told a story. Beneath the table, Isolde secretly planted her hand in Leah’s.

“Our close friendship blossomed into something more.”

Leah whisked Rachel to another memory.

Leah and Isolde were dancing in a crowded smoke-filled bar when a man approached and broke the two apart. Rachel could sense that the man was Isolde’s boyfriend. Isolde would not let him break them apart. She shoved him aside and ran out of the bar, towing Leah by the hand. The man chased after them, but they managed to hop onto a tram just as it sped away.

They sat together in the back of the empty tram laughing. They held each other. Isolde rested her head on Leah’s shoulder and said, “I should’ve known… just another boring man,” and laughed as glistening tears filled her eyes. Leah wrapped an arm tightly around her. They caught each other’s eyes and found that they had finally found the perfect moment to do what they had both secretly yearned to. To steal a kiss. So, they kissed. Shy at first, but then, spurned by blooming warmth that stifled their drunken laughter, they kissed again more deeply. They held each other after the kiss and dozed off holding each other as the tram crawled its way past the golden lights of Berlin.