Dies Irae: Song To The Witch - Chapter 1 Der Staat gegen der LDO

Reap. And in accordance with your tally, you will be gracefully rewarded.

To create life, and to stretch it to infinity. The creation of undeath. That is the reward, the trans.m.u.tation of Gold that grants immortality. Kill, and the ritual will let you imbue the souls you have reaped into those dear to you, or perhaps into yourself if you so desire. Thus, with each their own desires, they waited for the Day of Wrath.

Tonight’s events take place in 1962. Some tens of years still remain.

White houses with green lawns. A street block where residences like these are neatly lined up. In spite of this, the young woman had a hard time finding the residence she was looking for. It is the dead of the night, making the search that much harder. Every time she looked down at the note that had the address written on it, her blonde ponytail swayed. She wore a lemon-yellow cardigan over her s.h.i.+rt along with a checkered skirt, emphasizing her youthful beauty. The weather was clear, but she carried quite a tall umbrella. A little out of place.

Finally, she had located the residence she was looking for, she rung the bell. After a short wait, a young boy opened the door.

Uhm… Uh, h.e.l.lo. Who might you be?

The young woman started smiling at the the young boy who had a little trouble voicing his question.

Yeah… Are mommy or daddy home by chance?

They are.

The boy returned to the living room. It was a very peaceful sight, this was probably a lovely household. But upon realizing something, the grip with which the young woman held the umbrella strengthened.

They said come in.

She entered the living room at the young boy’s prompt.

Ah, we have a guest.

Please make yourself at home.

The father who greeted her with a warm welcome sat comfortably in his chair. The mother was busy doing the housework. When she saw the couple, the young woman started feeling uneasy.

What’s the matter?

The young boy asked her with a curious expression, she remained still. She had to answer the boy.

Haven’t you noticed anything strange about mommy and daddy?

Hmmm… I don’t know. They’re more pleasant than before.

Yeah… Pleasant…

Yeah. Daddy used to stay away from home all the time. When he came home he would fight with mommy lots, but now he’s always home and everyone’s happy!

Ah, so that’s it. To this child, who doesn’t understand what’s going on, this happy family vibe gives him all the more joy. This stench and abnormal situation means nothing before this newfound happiness. The young woman lightly hit the boy’s medulla oblongata to make him lose conciousness.

Oh, what’s wrong?

Come, sit.

The parents didn’t seem to mind the fact that their child just fainted. This was not surprising, as the father’s head was split open and the mother’s stomach was visible. From a moving corpse’s perspective, fainting is but a trivial matter. The young woman held the umbrella she was carring in front of her, its handle started glowing. In a flash, the top of the umbrella burned off and a concealed saber became visible.

She used it to cut not flesh, but a short wire. The two corpses, that had been controlled like puppets by this wire, collapsed on the spot. The name of this saber isThrud WalkureHoly Sword of the Valkyrie, modeled after the blade of the Maiden of War: Valkyrie, forged of lightning, blade of the emperor. Imbued not with hatred, but with faith. This is her Ahnenerbe.

What do I make of this… These tasteless acts are sickening.

The name of the young woman muttering to herself isBeatrice Waltrud von Kircheisen, Number V of the Longinus Dreizehn Orden’s Obsidian Round Table, also known asValkyrie, another superhuman. She had received orders from the Divine Vessel to pull weeds, so to say. To investigate those who have their eyes on the Longinus Dreizehn Orden and those who intend to harm it, and to take care of them if the opportunity presents itself.

Beatrice has been traveling around America, chasing various leads. But all people at the end of these trails have suffered a kind of death similar to this one. The other day in California, the subjects were found decapitated with a remarkably sharp finish, tonight in Was.h.i.+ngton, moving corpses. Beatrice shakes her head to try and forget about the patterns in these cases. At this point she wants to brush it off as a simple coincidence, the moment she realizes the connection between these cases, she would surely become agitated. She tried her best to hold herself in.

In her housesearching quest, Beatrice found a particular something awaiting her at each site. It was somebody’s message in each bedroom…

Hagazussa!

This word was written using blood on the bedroom wall, giving off a terrible stench. The wordhagazussais German and meanswoman pa.s.sing the fence. An obscene woman who pleasures herself on a pole. One who goes over the fence that is the boundary between the world of man and magic. It is said to be the origin of the German word for witch:hexe. These serial killings appear to mock a certain member of the Obsidian Round Table. Furthermore, there’s the phrase on the wall, in actuality the reference is obvious. it is now clear who the killer wants on the case.

If nothing else, now that Mercurius has disappeared, there is only one member of the Obsidian Round Table who knows how to a.n.a.lyze this type of magic that makes corpses dance. The Divine Vessel would no doubt put her on the case when he hears this report. There is probably no way to avoid getting in touch with Rusalka Schwgelin. Beatrice pondered how to deal with this house, but she could already imagine how she’ll be tossed around by that happy-go-lucky witch. She let out a troubled sigh.

Achoo!

Rusalka sneezed.

Right now she was in a country far from America. In a way, this gives her an alibi. Of course, that is when we forget about the fact that magic does not have to abide by the laws of physics and distance…

Rusalka, too, received an order from the Divine Vessel, and she had travelled to this land to fulfill it. The SS-uniform she was once again wearing after a long time fit her as well as it ever had. This is not surprising, as her immortal body had not changed a bit either. Rusalka comfortably walked about a gloomy facility. No one had likely ever walked through those hallways in a n.a.z.i uniform, as if they owned the place, the way she so leisurely did.

This is a prison inRamla, Israel. In this place where disdain for n.a.z.i Germany is still ripe, Rusalka came to see an old compatriot who was on the brink of dying. She calmly arrived at the man’s cell.

He was locked behind multiple layers of thick steel bars with a st.u.r.dy lock on them, but to her, it was as easily breakable as a sheet of paper. And break it she did, Rusalka moved past the bars that had already melted, and entered the cell. She looked the exact same as she did around ten years ago, but the inmate was not surprised. Instead, he only gave her a glance with his lifeless eyes.

Hi! Long time no see! Ah, you’ve lost weight, haven’t you?

Rusalka greeted the man she was clearly acquainted with. He did not respond.

I’m here to bust you out. If you leave now, there’ll be n.o.body standing in your way. All the guards are all comfy inside my shadows, and the doors are wiiide open.

You know, if you stay here, your head goes off! Do you realize this? The guards were all lively preparing a big fat rope with your name on it. Do you think they would be floating around in shadowland right now if they wanted to hang someone else?

Come one… Say something. Aren’t you lonely?

No matter what Rusalka said, the inmate would not talk.

Not long ago you spilled all the beans on us and now you’re completely quiet. Isn’t this awfully convenient for you?

He was once Lieutenant Colonel of n.a.z.i Germany’s Schutzstaffel. After World War II, he managed to flee to South America and hide under a new ident.i.ty. But he was captured by the Israeli intelligence agency known as Mossad and brought here to Israel.

This inmate is not a member of the Obsidian Round Table, but he was a member of the n.a.z.i Party and comparitively closely related to the Longinus Dreizehn Orden.

You know, Spinne told me all bitter looking that you’d returned us quitethe favour. And what do you know… Not only do you get yourself caught, but you went and told on us… What actually is your deal?

The one who aided the inmate in his escape to South America was Rt Spinne, Number X of the Longinus Dreizehn Orden’s Obsidian Round Table. His mission after the war was to aid the Longinus Dreizehn Orden, and in that, aiding in the escape of war criminals served as nothing more than a diversion.

Then the diversion got captured and spilled the beans on the existence of the missing Longinus Dreizehn Orden. A rather unfavourable deal. Thanks to this, multiple people, like Rusalka, were tasked with shutting people up and pulling weeds.

Even with Rusalka’s interrogative tone, the inmate would not show any signs of responding. An offer of salvation or threats by one who surpa.s.ses human knowledge, nothing seemed to sway him. Wouldn’t that mean this man has become nothing more than an empty sh.e.l.l? In that case there is no intel, emotion or anything at all that can be squeezed out of him. Doing any of the things she planned to do would seem to be a waste of power.

Rusalka was tasked with the torture of this inmate who had sold out the Longinus Dreizehn Orden. Figure out just how much he revealed about them, and also figure out how much he even knew about them in the first place.

But honestly, that didn’t matter. The important part was the punishment for his betrayal, making him suffer and beg for death. But torturing an empty sh.e.l.l is pointless work. That which is to be drawn out of him is already rotten. Of course, if this man was not a skinny old guy, but a cute boy instead, that would still be worth doing.

Rusalka suddenly remembered a certain someone who might sway the inmate’s heart.

That’s a shame… Lord Heydrich thought highly of you, too…

The inmate’s eyebrows twitchingly moved. For the first time in ages, a ripple once more shook his heart. This man had been an acquaintance of Reinhard Heydrich for far longer than anyone in the Obsidian Round Table, even longer than Mercurius.

Rusalka continued…

You may not have been a part of the Obsidian Round Table, but because of your excellent management of finance and logistics you made everybody’s job easier. Everyone is very grateful to you, you know? Even Lord Heydrich loved you and your dedication.

And now He’s expanded his horizons to all of creation, has He not?

Those were the first words to leave the inmate’s mouth.

I wanted to keep serving Him, he was a truly brilliant and attractive man, the ideal Aryan. Not some omnipotent G.o.d, no. I wanted to be at the side of the perfect man.

Oh how very much of a selfless desire, isn’t it? Oh I love G.o.d so much, oh I wanna be with him! – Don’t let any religious people hear that, you’ll make them jump.

It doesn’t matter what the target of one’s wors.h.i.+p is. A person, a tree, or even a rock. He became something else that day… That christmas, when he took you lot with him… I would have gladly given it my all to stop Him from returning to that wretched place, even against all orders. But, there is still hope… One day He will return to His humanity, I have been holding onto that hope for the latter half of my life.

Ah, I see…

How pure of him. Rusalka felt for him a little bit. This man had been revering Heydrich since way before He met the man who calls himself Karl Krafft, back when He was still being tormented by His hunger for more. That’s why he distanced himself from the Obsidian Round Table, while still working with Him. Holding onto that hope that one day He will become human again.

Such naivety reminds us a little of a certain maiden of war. Even though he’s a grown man…

Either way, that changes things.

It doesn’t look like you talked because they offered to spare you, or out of spite for us…

He may not have had any loyalty for the Longinus Dreizehn Orden, but he had plenty for Heydrich Himself. He’s a backstabber, yet he isn’t. That is the kind of person this man is.

Did you forget? I oversaw resources and logistics. I wonder what will happen now that I’ve revealed all about you lot. Oh, that’s right. You made a lot of enemies wreaking all the havoc you wanted. It may have been about 20 years since the war, but that’s not long enough. All the fear, hatred, disdain and envy that have remained in people’s hearts have been unleashed in their full glory, by my testimony.

So you brought new enemies to our doorstep? Well look at you go! I’m personally not the type to wander off to the battlefields, unlike Bey. Jungles are muddy and riddled with bugs, the desert is just full of nothingness and the camels stink, the battlefields of late haven’t really been to my liking.

Collect souls until the Day of Wrath is upon us.

This inmate has created the perfect opportunity to do so. In this period of cold war, he created enemies that take the trouble to come to come tous. How nice of him.

By the way…

Rusalka had a broad smile.

If, by chance, by one in a millon, no a billion… We die… Then the Obsidian Round Table members that arehereright now will perish, Lord Heydrich would be disillusioned with this whole thing and get His head back in the game. Wouldn’t you like that? Well, not like that’d happen…

Oh I am vouching for you. Please defeat your enemies and welcome Him back. Well… Knowing Him, even without you all He would still return some day.

In other words, no matter how this bomb goes off that this man just threw at the world, it is a win-win situation on his end. Loyalty to Lord Heydrich and hatred for the Obsidian Round table. He presents them with this opportunity and vouches for his own defeat. A fifty-fifty chance.

Rusalka has what she came for. There is no point in torture anymore, it is best to leave him to die in the next few days.

Rusalka turned around but remembered something she forgot to ask.

I wanted to ask this ever since the war ended. What happened to all those doc.u.ments and relics from when you were stationed at Ahnenerbe?

Most of those should have been sent to your castle.

Well the rest disppeared.

Most of the Longinus Dreizehn Orden’s holy relics known as Ahnenerbe were brought in from the German Ahnenerbe Administration. Rusalka was formerly stationed here.

Did I forget any?

The inmate’s eyes were lit up. At this moment, he was no inmate. He was an official who had just been told he made a mistake.

Ah, you know, never mind. We know where most went, actually. And maybe some were just thrown away. Auf wiedersehen, Lieutenant Colonel. It’s been great catching up!

Rusalka left the cell, but the inmate stayed quiet. He showed a scornful smile.

There weresome difficultiesalong the way, but after a couple of days the inmate was executed as planned. Lieutenant Colonel of n.a.z.i Germany’s Schutzstaffel: Adolf Eichmann, the man who was acquainted with Reinhard Heydrich for far longer than anyone in the Longinus Dreizehn Orden, the man who was supposed to be His trusted friend, was hung in 1962.

What did he speak of inside that prison? What were his parting words? The records contradict each other, and even today it remains a mystery.