The look that Samantha shot him caused the Nazi to draw his hand back as if he’d touched a hot stove.
Geist turned back to the door, his skin taking on the peculiar translucent quality that marked the use of his abilities. Then he was passing through the wooden door with scarcely any sound at all.
“You do realize that if he finds those body parts, he’s likely to just grab them and walk right out the side of the house…” Eun looked at Sporrenberg as he said this and was pleased to see that his companion was thinking the same thing.
“If he hasn’t opened the door within twenty seconds, I want you to sprint downstairs and look for him. He can become immaterial but he can’t fly or jump from one place to another.”
Before Eun could reply, an animalistic roar from behind the basement door made him jump. The door suddenly rattled as something heavy thudded against it.
They heard the sound of the door unlocking and then a string of obscenities from Geist, driving Jakob to yank open the door with great haste. What they saw inside brought them all to a sudden pause.
The room was lit by a single lamp, which lay atop a cluttered table. In the dim illumination, they could see that Geist was slowly circling a man who might have once matched the physical description of Felix Morris. But this fellow, though short and stocky like Morris, had dust-colored skin, dry flesh and sunken eyes. His hair clung to his skull in tiny wisps and his right hand appeared quite strange. It was pure bone, with only tiny fragments of skin clinging to the joints, and was sewn onto the arm.
Samantha, always the quickest thinking of the group, blurted out, “He cut his hand off — and attached the devil’s paw!”
Morris whirled towards her, sunken eyes blazing. His voice was dry and painful-sounding. “Don’t look at me like that!” he hissed. “I’m beautiful! Transformed by the touch of the devil! I’M BETTER THAN YOU!” he screeched, sounding like a petulant child trying to force his view onto the world.
Jakob pointed his gun and fired, the slug burying itself deep in the dry flesh of the monster’s left shoulder. Rather than blood, sand flowed from the wound.
Morris laughed, slapping at his own chest. “You see? You can’t harm me any longer!” He lunged for Eun, catching the young man around the throat with the devil’s hand. The fingers squeezed so hard that blood began to flow around the grip and Eun tried ineffectually to free himself.
Samantha burst forward, not wanting to see her friend suffer. She delivered a chop to the back of the fiend’s neck, drawing his attention. He threw Eun aside and turned towards her — at that moment, Geist stuck both fists through the monster’s chest and partially solidified his limbs. Simultaneously yanking his arms upward, this caused the man’s bones to splinter, deep furrows forming in his flesh. Sand spilled out in great amounts and Morris howled in indignation.
Geist pulled himself free, dancing back as Morris struck at him. Despite the fact that the fist passed through him, Geist seemed pained by the experience — somehow, the devil’s hand was able to disrupt his unusual form.
Jakob jumped onto Morris’ back, placing the barrel of his gun directly against the man’s head. Though the earlier shots didn’t seem to have any impact, he was gambling that Morris would be brought down by a bullet to the brain.
He fired, the slug passing through Morris’ skull like it were tissue paper. The bullet exited the other side, leaving a large circular hole in the villain’s forehead. Jakob could see Geist on the other side of it, reacting instinctively as the bullet passed through his immaterial form. The shell finally ended up embedded in the basement wall.
Morris fell to his knees, dislodging Jakob, who rolled over onto his side. “You have no idea,” the thin man wheezed. “The things that the devil has told me… Things that would destroy your view of the world….”
Eun surprised everyone by rushing forward. He kicked Morris’ hanging head like a football and the man’s head shattered like a watermelon, dust and brain matter flying across the floor.
“That wasn’t really necessary,” Samantha pointed out. “He was down.”
“He might have gotten back up.”
Sporrenberg knelt beside the body and twisted the stitched-on hand until it came off with a crunch. He could feel the warmth in it and a foul taste rose up in his throat. He roughly shoved it into a pocket on his coat, eager to no longer be touching it.
“The heart is here, too.”
Jakob looked up as Geist who had restored his form to its normal state. “How do you know? I assumed that Lunt might have passed it on to The Illuminati.”
“Then you know little about him,” Geist responded. “Lunt was loyal to his masters — to a point. But he always wanted to ensure that his own power was left unchecked.” Geist wandered around the room, which contained many sealed boxes and a large table, which was covered by surgical equipment and stained with blood. On the edge of the table lay the heart-shaped stone retrieved by Lazarus Gray years before.
Samantha made sure to snatch it up before Geist got to it. She shivered as she held it, revulsion mixing with a peculiar sense of eroticism. This was pure primal desire, given physical form. Neither laws nor morals could restrain the urges that poured forth from the devil’s heart.
“So we have two of the pieces,” Eun said.
“Had.”
Everyone turned to the doorway, where a spectral figure stood. At first glance, he looked like a living shadow, a silhouette of a man without substance. As he moved into the room, however, it was all too clear that he was real. He held a small grenade in one hand and wore a gas mask over a skull-like mask.
“Tell the Sandman hello for me,” The Darkling said, tossing the grenade to the floor. It exploded upon impact, releasing a brownish-green gas that enveloped the heroes. Within seconds, they were coughing and losing their grips on consciousness. Only Geist remained standing and, he too, was teetering on the brink.
The Darkling strode into the room, barely paying Geist any mind at all. “Learn anything useful from them, Strauss?” he asked in flawless German, rifling through Sporrenberg’s pocket. He held up the devil’s hand and studied it for a moment before moving to claim the heart from Samantha.
“They’re a good group but undisciplined. Sporrenberg is constantly trying to keep the other two in line. Jakob is still conflicted over his departure from Germany, though. He refuses to admit it but I think he misses the purpose the military gave him.” Geist coughed. When in his normal form, he was susceptible to gases and poisons, though less so than for normal men. “Shall I come with you or maintain this charade?”
The Darkling was packing away the heart, keeping it in a separate compartment in his cloak from the hand. “When was the last time you contacted your superiors in Berlin?”
“I left a single message for them, telling them that after my trip to Switzerland, I was going deep undercover for a few weeks. They gave their approval, as long as I eventually show some sort of results.” Geist shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “I’m hoping that you’ll find some way for me to keep up my guise as a loyal Nazi, Herr Darkling.”
“You are a loyal Nazi, Geist. You work for me because I’m blackmailing you.”
“As you say,” Geist answered with a cool smile. “But that has bought my loyalty, regardless.”
“It will be weeks before Berlin realizes you are out of touch,” The Darkling mused aloud. His words seemed strange to Geist, who began backing away, particularly when that bizarre laughter began to bubble forth from his employer. It echoed throughout the house, rising in tenor.