Chapter 7
After the meeting, the council members retired to their respective residences and hotels. Because of the ripe hour, they elected to abandon their usual social interaction afterward. It was under unique circumstances that they were summoned to this gathering, and therefore considered one of emergency, rather than tradition.
One by one the black cars departed the facility as the dawn drew ever nearer. It was a strange, eerie night in Rotterdam, just by atmosphere. Kees Maas sat in the backseat of his Lexus, driven by Lars, his driver of fourteen years. The two of them elected to go to the meeting alone without employing any bodyguards, because it was not far from his residence in Zestienhoven and at this time of night there would scarcely be a reason to be protective. The council’s get-togethers were always so clandestine that usually not even their own secretaries at the office knew about the gatherings.
“Want to get something to eat first, sir? I know you like to snack at this time of night,” Lars smiled in the rearview mirror at his employer.
The old man smiled shyly, a little embarrassed for his bad eating habits being so well-known. His hands were folded over his briefcase, displaying his dirty, long nails. Lars was used to the old man’s warlock image, but normally those who had never met him found his elderly countenance and the dirty talons quite unsettling. Kees had been a council member since 2005, when he was 58 years of age. All his life he had served in the Order of the Black Sun, which won him the privilege of becoming a council member in his mature years.
He was adept at the dark arts and basic occult practices, although he never engaged in what he called, “those silly things like covens and festivals.” This in fact proved him to be more than another follower of occultist Aleister Crowley or versed in the dogma of LaVeyan Satanism. It proved him to be involved in something so much more perverse that it did not even surface among the covens of the world.
A sole practitioner of the occult-based works, Kees Maas always kept to himself, while writing philosophies and lecturing the members of the order in the truth behind Hitler’s intentions with the Vril and Thule societies. They were so much more than organizations founded to advance metaphysical sciences and pseudo-religious experimentation. These societies were placed there for the research of the links between ancient civilizations and extraterrestrial influences, and the barbaric practices of human sacrifice and cannibalism, among others.
Kees himself had never been one for regular cuisine, his eccentric appetite being something he had acquired while researching South American cannibal tribes firsthand. The cultures of the Amazon basin’s tribes, together with ancient practices and architecture of the Mayans, Incas, and Aztecs proved that gods far more dark and cruel once commanded humankind, unlike the benign god of the Christians. These gods, creatures of advanced intellect and abilities, were believed to reside in the heavens, and Kees believed much the same thing.
It was this very theory that got him involved with the Black Sun in the 1960s. Like Himmler and his consorts, Kees Maas needed to discover a way to punch a hole between dimensions and allow these old gods their passage, so that the world would be uncorrupted, unmade, and reborn by the laws of the ancient ones. He believed that this was the only way to undo the damage and lies brought on by the Roman Empire and its Christian myths for the sake of dominion over the masses.
All the members of the council, the Black Sun, and its parent societies of post-Second World War believed similarly, give or take some deviation here and there to accommodate more scientific laws, or others who held a more psychological point of view. Kees used his passion for the dark arts and his masters degree in quantum physics to work for the Black Sun, formulating not only recipes for time-space folding but also the esoteric side of its existence.
“Lars, let’s just go home tonight. It is too late and I’m too old for midnight hunting,” he jested. His driver nodded cordially and chuckled at the old man’s sense of humor. Lars was perhaps only too thankful that he would not have to endure helping Maas obtain the more exotic of dishes again. Even a hardened man like Lars could not stomach the laughter of street children suddenly mute to the evil old man’s culinary needs. Sometimes he wondered if the moral conundrum of his very soul was worth the exuberant salary he was paid by Maas.
On their way to the old man’s modest double-story house just off Terlet, Kees’ eye was caught by something that interested him beyond any resistance.
“Lars! Did you see her?” he shrieked in excitement from behind the disappointed chauffeur, who had wished the old man missed it. Along the road of the sparsely populated area, a girl was walking in the dark, her clothing dirty and her hair matted. She looked like one of the homeless children he normally found in the city’s downtown streets, begging for food.
“Yes, sir.”
“Stop! Pull over and offer her a ride,” Kees ordered. His face had suddenly changed from an esteemed old man to that of an ancient fiend, salivating at tender flesh. The car stopped just a few meters ahead of the fifteen-year-old blonde girl who was lost in the abandoned street this time of the night. Lars opened the passenger door for her, but she simply walked past them.
“Excuse me, miss!” Lars called after her. She ignored him, so he jumped from the car while Kees watched, positively exhilarated by her discovery. In the high beams of the Lexus he saw Lars smile and talk to the wayward teenager. A couple of times her big blue eyes looked in the direction of Kees, although she could not see past the bright headlights. He did not know what Lars told her, but she finally agreed to come with them.
“Hello,” the girl said to Kees when she saw him.
“Hello, dear. Are you cold?” he asked.
“Yes. It is very cold, and my brother took my jacket when he left tonight,” she explained.
Lars did not look at her as he drove to the Maas residence. He could not. It was a sore thing for him, what was to become of her, but he had his job and nothing other than the vehicle was any of his business.
“Where did he go?” Kees questioned her.
“He says he works, but I know that he is selling drugs,” she replied casually. The two men remained quiet. When they arrived at the affluent old man’s home she gasped in awe. She did not ask them any questions, but it was obvious that she was absolutely taken with the place. The posh car glided into the third garage port slightly elevated over the wide driveway, where barefaced marble statues lined the way from the gate to the house. The girl was fascinated by them. Some were satyrs, others minotaurs, alongside demonesses with large breasts and cloven hooves. All the statues had smug smirks on their empty, pasty faces, which made them look utterly vindictive.
Lars nodded goodbye when they exited the car.
“Are those statues of Greek gods or something?” she asked Kees. He had to chuckle at the base comparison such an uneducated mind drew at the sight of the effigies of hell’s high council.
“Yes, my dear. Do you have a favorite?” he asked, taking a moment before entering the house.
“I like the woman with the sharp wings,” she remarked.
“Her name is Lilith,” Kees replied proudly, too happy to educate someone so young in the knowledge of his faith. It was a shame that she would never grow up to follow in his footsteps.
“Lilith,” she repeated.
“Adam’s first wife,” he mentioned in admiration of the unholy deity, tapping his long nails on his case.
“Like in the Bible?” the girl asked.
Kees sneered, amused, as his old eyes shimmered with sheer thrill, “No. Not like that at all.”
He took her by the hand and led her through the door into the house. It was dark, but the hallway lamps were burning. She could hear the timely ticking of a large clock somewhere in a room to her left, but it was pitch dark and she could not see inside.