Yes, the Intrepid Investigators were indeed (in)famous, and they realized that they had better figure out what was going on with the dead young women dug out of fresh graves and relieved of their private parts through horrifying mutilation, not to mention Werner Haupt, Dr. Erich Kaminski, and the abhorrent Proletkult! There was the lead to the abandoned abattoir in the vicinity of Nollendorfplatz, but the Intrepid Investigators felt like more reconnaissance was required. So why not open a store in the area? That Monday and Tuesday, December 20 to 21, say a flurry of activity. A storefront was found and rented, the surrounding flea markets and bric-a-brac shops were raided for "interesting" goods relating to the occult, no, spiritual character, photography, and fetish. Very Berlin. A business plan was drafted by Jules Pollack for the store, which was to be named Zukunft. Both Felix Jeremiah and Howard Lake took turns staking out the abattoir in various ways. Moira Baker adopted the role of medium, dressing up in her very own interpretation of a gypsy, with scarves and crystal balls galore, while Mackie made snide remarks at anyone entering the store.
The Nollendorf Abattoir.
Moira Baker's new look.
Despite the supposedly joyful season, the area around Nollendorfplatz seemed to display a very limited amount of Chrustmas spirit. The neighborhood could conveniently be described as 'drab', but this included cold, moisture, smoke, and what seemed to be a whiff of several thousand unwashed human bodies. The half-melted snow on the streets did not provide even an inkling of holiday cheer. There were no carols to be heard.
From the diary of Felix Jeremiah:
What was that place? We have seen so many weird and strange things, but this may be one of the most disturbing encounters ever! I am so grateful that we all kept it together, but yet, my hands are shaking as I am pinning down my impression of that horrifying night. God! I wish it could be erased from my mind, but it seems to be our curse to never forget, and only repeat. Why has the world decided to undo its form and display these abominations from parallel existences, or are they even that? Am I just permanently stuck in an awful dream, while my true self is thrashing and turning in a comfortable bed somewhere?
I managed to scale the outside of the abattoir to a broken window on the third floor, despite the surface being slippery due to ice and humidity as well as unhealthy patches of lichen infesting the walls of the disused building. The inside was even more dismal than the outside, with chains and weird implements hanging from the ceiling and a profound stench of putrefaction. Strange and disturbing noises could be heard from the bowels of the building. Having climbed down inside the building, I opened the front door to my comrades.
From the diary of Howard Lake:
An effigy of days. Memories of infinite darkness, utterly out of the cosmos, yet parallel to the mundane spheres of the mortal. A maze of time, a closed gate open.
This one tried to kill us.
This one just wanted to be killed.
From the diary of Frau Claire Bonhofer:
I had really not believed these strange foreigners when they whispered about ancient evil hidden in the corners of the world and sneaking out from alternate universes. However, the events of that Thursday night may have changed my opinions. They had done such horrible experiments, creating such wretched forms of existence, abominations in the most true sense of the word. We killed all but one, a small girl with so many pairs of arms and legs. Some of these parodies of life were violent, while others were just begging for someone to take them out of their misery. These were mercy killings, all of them.
Cans on strings to alert the creatures inside of trespassers?
From the diary of Mackenzie MacNamara:
Tentacles and a gargantuan vulva. A gargantuan vulva with half-inch thick pubes. Bizarre reproductive parts. Being dragged into a aforementioned giant vagina while juggling gasoline bombs. It is just another day in my life, Nevertheless, the giant birth or breeding contraption that probably had been engineered by Werner Haupt and Dr. Erich Kaminski with the help of Proletkult was terrifying, and seemingly sentient. I did not feel like ending my life by being sucked into a giant vulva. No. Not today. Good thing the police came. Too bad that the place exploded with so many of the Berlin police still inside. This makes me queasy.
Possible segment of giant vulva.
From the diary of Jules Pollack:
The office.
We secured a couple of stacks of paper from the desk in their sort-of office, and now that I have had time to go through them, I am convinced that the USSR and Proletkult are working on a dreadful and very dangerous plan. It does seem - although I am still examining the texts - that Haupt, Kaminski and Proletkult have been trying to use the instructions in the Pnakotic Manuscripts to create what they call Cho-goths. These masses of protoplasm seem to be similar to what we found beneath the pyramid we ventured into in Central America as members of the doomed MacNamara expedition. And Proletkult were in Central America as well! My thoughts shudder when I ponder what an army of such vile beasts could do to the world if they were controlled by the Soviet Union?
From the diary of Moira Baker:
They may have retained their sanity, but I have been working on their physical injuries for days. I am really getting to know my friends well.
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