The house was empty. Charlotte was alone in her room, waiting for her husband, Jacques, to come back from his reunion. She had tried to read, but the weather was so hot she just couldn't focus. She felt sweaty and wet. She mechanically took the little toy box her husband's friend Richard had sent from America for her and started to play with it, sitting on her bed. At this moment, as she was asking herself how anyone could create such a weird stuff, some incredible shiver made his way from her hand towards her neck, and then from the neck down to the bottom of her back. Suddenly, her whole body trembled as if she was crossed by some bizarre forces and she started to feel dizzy. Then came really intense sensations just as if a dozen hands were stroking heavily her breaths and bottom, even her sex and anus. She was feeling more and more aroused, but she couldn't help manipulating the box which finally escaped her hands and fell on the wooden floor. Without knowing what she was doing, she tried to pick up the box, but instead of that, her hands grabbed her dress and started to tear it apart until she was totally nude. She got up and walked like a naked zombie towards the big mirror. She observed her body and discovered her breaths and thighs were now bleeding. She touched herself between her legs: she had no memory of having been that wet ever. What was happening to her? At this very moment, she saw the reflection of the box in the mirror and totally lost control.
     Next thing she knew, she was lying on her bed, legs wide open, masturbating, rubbing the sharp angles of the box against her wet vagina, screaming both with pleasure and pain. She was about to reach orgasm when everything stopped.
     No light. No sound. She could feel she was standing, but she didn't how she could be standing. A deep voice came out of the darkness.

- You wanted to reach higher pleasures. I came.

     Unable to speak, she turned her head left and right to find where the voice came from. He finally appeared in from of her. At first, she only distinguished a tall dark figure surrounded by some cold blue light. But when he came closer, she saw a being (for it could not be a man, for sure) more horrible than the creepiest nightmare she could ever have. His pale blue skin was partly cut, partly burnt. His clothes were made of black leather and metal and were fixed to his very body with large silver like rings and hooks. He also had numerous knives stuck in his chest and back. He made a step towards her and picked one of those knives from his chest. The blade was black from dry blood.
     She screamed and tried to run away, but her body refused to obey. She just could not move a finger.

- One cannot run away from one's destiny. I am here only because you called me. You don't know it yet, but you wanted what is going to happen. Your body already knows it.

     While saying that, he had driven his blade over her right breath, cutting deeply. She started to feel her own blood running over her belly towards her pubic hair, and, without warning, had the most incredible orgasm she ever had. Her whole body was shaking, but she could not tell if what she was experiencing was terrible suffering or exquisite pleasure.

- What have you done to me, she sighed, barely able to speak.
- Only what you expected me to do.

     Suddenly, she felt the deep cut of a thousand hooks all over her pale skin which was now covered with her own blood. She was lifted from the floor and it seemed to her each hook was pulling in a different direction than the others. Losing all control upon herself, she screamed louder and louder, definitely no more able to make a difference between pain and pleasure, fear and trust, orgasm and death… Finally, as her spirit was invaded by an implacable ecstasy, her body exploded, torn apart by the thousand hooks.

- You are going to reach those unknown pleasures you didn't even dare to dream of. And this is only the beginning…

     The being disappeared, leaving the room empty.

Berlin, February 6th 1995

     The pale sun had just risen above the German capitol, and, already, streets were filled with busy people running everywhere towards their working places, like in every big cities in the world. It was really cold on that particular morning. Even the sky seemed to have been frozen by the darkness of the previous night. His hands well secluded into the warn depths of his pockets, Max was making his way through the uneasy narrow street he had been told the shop was. He had arrived in Berlin on this very morning and could have used some sleep, but he couldn't wait any longer. He had to see it.
     Trying not to walk on the garbage that covered the floor and carefully watching for rats, which he just hated, Max finally reached the end of the alley. There it was, just as Michael had told him. The old door bore nothing distinctive on it except for some pseudo-religious symbol (an Ankh cross in a triangle surrounded with some Latin sentences) and a little sheet of paper with "öfnen" written on it.
     Max knocked. He waited quietly for a few minutes and then knocked again. No one answered. Quite disappointed, he mechanically watched his watch. He had not realized how early it was. It may not be open yet after all. But, just when he had decided to go to his hotel, get some sleep and come back later in the day, the door opened slightly with a long sigh. From where he stood, Max could not see the person who had opened the door. All he could see of the room behind the door was a darkness so deep he was not even sure anything might actually be behind that door.

- Come in, said a voice coming out of nowhere. Come in by your own free will.

     The voice was an old man's voice. Without knowing why, this voice made Max uncomfortable. He slowly opened the door wider and entered into a small dusty shop. The wooden floor was cracking under his feet while he was having a look around the weird objects exposed on the tables and shelves.

- What will be your pleasure?

     The voice made Max shiver as if some polar wind had blown under his shirt. He turned his head and saw a little man in a corner of the room. It was one of those men you cannot really tell how old they are. Only one thing was sure, the man was surely as old as some of the esoteric stuff he was selling.

- Oh, hello, said Max with a shy voice, are you the owner of this place?
- Let's say I am in charge of this place, answered the man with a heavy German accent, I do not really own anything here.
- Still, you may help me. I came here because some friend of mine, Michael Stark… Maybe you remember him?
- Doesn't sound familiar to me…
- Anyway. So, this friend of mine came here a few weeks ago and he told me he had seen here some boxes that might have been some of Lemarchand's puzzle boxes. So I came here to see if it's true and if you might sell one of these to me.
- I do not have any of this stuff to sell.
- Are you sure? My friend seemed to be quite certain of what he had seen. Maybe you don't exactly see what I'm talking about. You see: Philippe Lemarchand was a well known French architect and toy maker who became famous through the building of little puzzle boxes which were said to have some kind of magic powers. Those boxes have been dispatched through Europe and North America and most of them have been lost. I study history in Paris and I'm doing research on Lemarchand's life in order to write his biography, so, if I could find one or two of these famous boxes, it may help me to understand his so sudden fame during the 18th century. These boxes might be this big and…
- I did not say I didn't know what you were talking about. I'm perfectly aware of it, said the man stiffly. I said I didn't have any of these to sell.
- Oh… So I guess I just came here for nothing, sadly said Max.

     He started to go back to the door, thinking about how Michael was going to hear about this joke, when his eyes fell upon two little cubes on a short table. He got closer and saw what actually looked like some drawings he had seen in books dealing with the Parisian toy maker.
- And what about these ones? He said to the old man. Aren't they what we were dealing with?
- Well, answered the man while coming closer, you have well trained eyes. You are right, this box here is one of Lemarchand's late pieces of work. He may have built it maybe five or six years before he disappeared. It is called "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell".
- And the other one? When did he build it?
- In fact, the other one has not been created by Lemarchand.
- By who then? Kunst? Albert the Great? I read those two also built that kind of boxes.
- None of them. This box is called "The Bleeding Lover", or "The Infant Box", and its origins are more… Complex than for the other boxes you might find.
- Really?
- Yes, but it is a long story, and a young man like you might not want to listen to an old fart like me for hours.
- I am here, aren't I? So, please, sir, can I hear this story. It might be useful for my studies, you see.
- If such is your pleasure…

"New York, June 24th 1812

     I, Jacques Montaprice, write down this letter because I might not be alive anymore when the sun rises, and I think the world has to know my story.
     It has been exactly four years since my beloved wife, Charlotte, disappeared. Nothing was left of her but blood stains on our bedroom's floor and the Box. The Box… This damned puzzle box was a present my close friend Richard had sent me from New York as a present for Charlotte, as he knew she always had been fond of those kind of games.
     After Charlotte's disappearance, the police was unable to find any evidence leading to an explanation about where she was and what had happened to her. After some times, the case has been closed. At this point, I started to wonder about this box. I remembered that, in his letter, Richard had told me, this Box was the work of the famous Philippe Lemarchand which he had met in New York a few months before. I also remembered that Lemarchand had left France and gone to America because of some murder suspicions about him and his so much wanted boxes. So I decided the box might be the key of this terrible case and immediately left towards the new world. This was on the thirteenth of September.
     When I got to Richard's place, the only thing I found was an empty place. His servant told me Richard had left home three weeks before in order, he was told, to go and purchase another puzzle box like the other ones he already had and had not been seen again since that. As Richard had made arrangements with the bank so that the servant might still receive his payment even if he wasn't around for some time, this one had remained there, keeping the place clean until his master comes back.
     I explained him I was a close friend of his master's and gave him my name. He seemed quite surprised at first. Then he asked me to wait for a moment and left the room. He came back a few minutes later carrying an envelope.

- If you are Jacques Montaprice, then this is for you. Mister Transon left it with your name on it…

     I went back to my hotel and locked myself in my room. Without knowing why, this envelope was making myself uneasy. When I finally opened it, I found out it contained a letter from Richard's hand and a small book entitled "Elyseum Iter", which can be translated as "The Way of Elyseum". I put the book aside and started to read the letter:

     "Dear Jacques,
If you read this letter, it means that what I feared happened and Charlotte is gone. Please Jacques, forgive me, for all of this is my fault.
     A few months ago, I went to a Masonic reunion during which I met the most interesting man I had ever seen. We started to discuss various issues, such as secret geometry, esoteric symbolism, the true power of geometrical figures, and, after a while, he started to talk to me about his current work. He told me he had been for years building objects with magical properties meant to lead whoever possessed one to knowledge and fulfilment. He also told me about his feeling of growing old and how he thought his work shouldn't end with him. This is when he asked me if I would like to become his disciple.
     Oh, Jacques, I could not believe what I was hearing. This man was just proposing me to achieve masonry's ultimate goal by creating paths between mankind and absolute knowledge, between man and the Great Architect. I immediately asked him what I had to do to deserve his learning. He told me to go and meet him at his place a week from then, then he would give me my first mission as an apprentice.
     A week later, I met him at his apartment.

- So, Mister Lemarchand, what d…
- Call me Master.
- Excuse me, Master, what do I have to do.
- Take this.

     He gave me a small purple cube with silver symbols and lines all across each side. When I touched it, a weird feeling crossed my whole body.

- Observe it and tell me what you think, he said sharply.
- Is it one of those objects you told me about?
- Yes.
- Well, if you really wish to know, I find it… Strange.
- "Strange," you say? In what way?
- Hmm… I did not think it would look that way. It looks like a toy. And what are all these signs all about: I can see Masonic symbols (here is the "Sublime Triangle"), Latin prayers, Hebraic words…
- This, my son, is to be your first lesson: Each of the great movements of thinking, would it be Masonry, Kabbale, Esoterism and even Christianism and Islam, has, at one point or another, achieved, in its way, a part of the resolving of the great Enigma. Thus, it is natural that the good way might lie somewhere in-between all those paths. So, are you ready to receive your mission?
- I guess so, Master.
- I asked you a simple question, can't you give me simple answer?
- Yes.
- Good. Now, watch again the little box you are holding. Its name is "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell". I created it a few years ago. Its main aim is to help the person which might manipulate it, the "seeker", to break the chains of belief and reach the truth through the vision of the "Lord of Order".
- Excuse me to interrupt you, Master, but, when you talk about the "Lord of Order", do you refer to the "Great Architect"?
- In some way, yes, even if I would rather say it goes the other way: When you masons deal with the "Great Architect", you in fact refer to the "Lord of Order". But enough with rhetorical matters. Now, I wish you to find the most faithful believer you might know and guide him by giving him the box. Then, if you do well, you might come back to me and I will teach you.

     As you must have understood by now, this man was Philippe Lemarchand. I went back home and started to ask myself who I could give the Box to? I don't know why but, please forgive me, I immediately thought about how much Charlotte just loved puzzles and how faithful she was. So I sent you the Box for her.
     Two weeks ago, I learned all about the tragedy that happened to poor Charlotte. And all of this was my fault. So I went once again to Lemarchand's place, but he had left. I only found a few of his notes about the Box. Oh my God. Apparently, Lemarchand's Boxes, which he calls "Configurations" are in fact devices meant to open doors to a realm made of terror and pain, way worse than our well-known Christian Hell, in which nothing ever dies and where demon, which he refers to as "Coenobites" inflects the damned perpetual suffering beyond man's comprehension, to satisfy the 'Lord of Order". Do you understand what I am writing here, Jacques? I am saying your wife has been sent to Hell because of my foolish pride! I wanted to lead the world on the way to knowledge, and I opened the gates of Hell instead. Please, God, forgive me…
     This is the twenty-third of August. I write this letter before leaving my home in order to find this maniac. Someone has to stop Philippe Lemarchand's evil work. Even if it means I have to kill him. Once again, my dear friend, you may never be able to forgive me, for what I have done is so terrible, but do believe I will do anything I can to put an end to it.
     With this letter, you will find a small book I discovered in Lemarchand's stuff. It is an ancient Latin text describing the creatures which took Charlotte away. You might find some way to get her back in it. As I told you, nothing is ever allowed to die where she is now.

     Good luck, dear old friend, adieu."

     It has been four years since I read this letter, and still tears invade my eyes each time I recall it. I myself also went after Lemarchand for some time, but I never found neither him nor Richard. Both of them seem to have left earth's face. My only chance stood in that book. So I read it. Apparently, it has been written three hundred years ago by a Dominican monk called "Brother Pascal". This text is a synthesis of his whole life of research about Albert the Great's work concerning the alchemical quest for truth. Pascal's discoveries lead him to some mysterious places in the Indies where he found traces of an unknown cult which he refers to as "The Children of Elyseum".
     According to him, this seems to have been a group of people gathered around some particular philosophy and planning to achieve the "Elysean Prophecy" and free the universe from some almighty being they called "Lev Atan" and which Pascal refers to as "Ordinis Dominus": The Lord of Order. Things must have gone somewhere wrong for them, as, by the time Pascal discovered the few documents they had left, the sect was said to have disappeared for about a century.
     However, Brother Pascal collected the more pieces of information he could about the Lord of Order and his troops, the "Coenobites", also referred as "The Order of the Gash". I read all this carefully and I might have figured some way to save my darling Charlotte from those monsters.
     God help me, or I might never see tomorrow."

Berlin, February 6th 1995

     Max gave the letter back to the old salesman who put it back into the silver box it came from.

- Wow, he said, this is quite an impressive letter. Is all this real?
- Do I really have to answer that? said the old man with some irritation in his voice.
- Er… Excuse me. Of course it's true. So, what happened next? Did he manage to get his wife back? Did she bring him the second box for Hell?
- It could have been that way, my young friend, but things aren't that simple…

New York, June 24th 1812

     Darkness reigned in the room. Jacques was sitting on the floor, looking at the pale blue light coming from the Box. He knew he had done it. He had opened the gates of Hell. "Get up," said a voice behind him. He got up quietly and found himself face to face with one of those blue skinned demons he had read about. He did not know why but he was absolutely sure this "coenobite", as they called them, was the one who had taken his wife away from him four years before.

- You called me, said the thing, now follow me.
- I won't, calmly said Jacques.
- What?
- I said I won't come with you.
- But you have no choice. You resolved the Enigma. You called me and now you must follow me. Believe me, you will not regret it. You cannot even imagine the pleasures you are going to experience. Pain beyond comprehension, pleasure beyond death…

     The demon stretched his arm towards Jacques and a dozen chains with hooks flew from darkness to tears the man's flesh apart, just as they did to his beloved Charlotte before. Except this time, the hooks never reached their goals. They remained suspended in the air about two inches away from his skin. The demon lifted his pierced eyebrows and stretched his arm once more. Other hooks flew. With the same result. For some reason he couldn't figure, the coenobite was unable to strike that quiet man.

- What the..? hissed the demon.
- When I said I was not going to follow you, it was not a wish I was formulating, I was just exposing a fact. I'm not one of those poor souls you are accustomed to. I prepared myself to this meeting with you.

     Saying that, Jacques stretched his arm towards the coenobite which screamed his soul out as the hooks flew on him, cutting his flesh deep and lifting him from the floor.

- This… Can… Not… Be…
- Oh, yes, it can. It is happening right now. As I told you, I am prepared. I knew who you were and where you came from before I called you. I knew you served a master of pain and terror.
- I worship the Lord of Order… Leviathan… And to serve him well, I am pain and terror..!

     The demon, raving with pain and rage, was trying to escape from the hooks, but, each time he moved, Jacques made a hand gesture which caused new hooks to strike him.

- Did you know, Jacques said on the same quiet tone, there are ways to control one's sensibility to pain and fear? I discovered that recently in an old book written by a monk. It describes a meditation method which enables the wise man to forget and even control pain and fear. You might have heard of it. He called it the "Elysean Awakening".

When he heard those words, the demon screamed in agony.

- Never… Say… Those… Words..!

     Jacques went on as if did not notice the demon's screams anymore.

- So I practised until I totally succeeded in using it. It seems to me I was quite right, didn't I? So now, let me ask you one question: What might happen to a creature which is pure terror and suffering when it encounters someone which has absolute control on those… Let us say: Forces?

     In response, the demon screamed once more as the hooks were cutting deeper in his flesh. - I think you got my point. So now you will give me what I want, or I will have to destroy you.

- And what is it that you want? Said a voice behind him.

     Jacques turned his head quietly and saw someone else stood with them in a dark corner of the room. Another coenobite.

- You perfectly know what I want. Give me my wife back.
- Nothing is easier.

     The second creature stepped out of darkness. At this moment, it seemed to Jacques he had been hit by a lightning, for the crippled creature standing in front of him was no one but his beloved long lost wife Charlotte. His whole body started to shake as the thing that once was a beautiful woman came closer.

- Do you like me this way, honey. You see, when they took me, I did not know how narrow my mind was. They showed me so much. I realised there was no truth but flesh, pain and pleasure.

     Jacques was crying. He made a step backward. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. Suddenly, he felt something hurting his leg. He looked down and saw a hook stuck in his thigh. His lifted his eyes towards the creature which had been his wife.

- What is it, honey, she said with irony in her voice, are you losing… "Control"?

     A few second later, Jacques was screaming to death, his suffering body being pulled in the air by a thousand chains with a thousand hooks stuck in his flesh and bones.

- You wanted to be with me, the creature said, we will find a way. You just lack a little structure…

     She raised her metal plated hand. Slowly, the hooks started to pull on Jacques' flesh, putting his limbs into impossible angles, bending his aching spine, crushing the bones and tearing the flesh until the only thing left of him was a tiny little cube made of compressed flesh and bones. She picked it up and watched it a few seconds. After a while, the blood on the cube seemed to turn more solid and a little glowing.

- Suffering in its purest form, she said.

     She threw the cube away and it fell on the floor with a metallic sound. Then everything disappeared. The room was empty. Empty… Except for the two little puzzle boxes left side by side on the wooden floor.

Berlin, 6th February 1995

     Max had listened quietly to the old man's story. His gaze was going from the boxes to the salesman's face.

- I don't know if I must laugh or believe your story. So, you are trying to tell me this very box once was a man transformed by his lost wife, who had been turned meanwhile into a demon, into a little puzzle box meant to open a door leading to her in some sado-masochist Hell?
- Believe what you want. So, which one do you desire?
- What? I thought you said you didn't sell those.
- I said those were not to sell. Those are to be taken. So, which one?
- Oh… Tough choice, but I think I'll go with the purple one. I don't know if the story is true, but it seems to be closer to a real "Lemarchand's Configuration" than the other one.
- If this is your pleasure, said the old man while he put the "Marriage of Heaven and Hell" box in Max's hand.

     When he touched the box, Max felt the weirdest disease, as if someone had stroked his penis with a metal glove. He left the shop, still not knowing what to think, now with a massive erection brushing against his trousers.
     The old man watched him walk away with a stiff smile. Then he turned back to the little red box.

- Don't worry, little fellow, he said, we will find you someone…