“All clear.” König stated over his shoulder, pushing another man to the floor. Much like all the others in this building- he was clad in a black robe, his face obscured by a white mask.

Getting back to his feet, he shoulders open the door ahead, rifle at the ready.

He’s met with a hell of a scene.

A pentagram drawn in what he can only assume is blood, encircles the floor- a fresh body at each point on the star, their throats slit and still bleeding.

It’s some sort of ritual. He shoulders his rifle, aiming it at the man in the middle- some sort of priest, his hands raised in reverence, face obscured by a mask.

“Heiliger Mann. Exit the circle. Hands up.” He commands, his tone blunt.

The priest shifts to look at him, speaking more hurriedly. And then…

The flames ignite, the blood pooling the center, as if drawn by a magnet. A hand stretches out from the crimson pool. And then a body.

You.