“I seek the box

“I seek the box.”

“Maybe the box seeks you?”

The man bit his lip and saw that he had to be direct with the merchant. “I want to purchase the box.”

“At what price?”

“Two thousand, American.”

“Money is not what I mean. I mean to what extent will you go to find it’s secrets? How far will you go to corrupt your own soul?”

“Look, I came to England looking for the box and I want to buy it from you, and all I get is questions. Are you going to sell it to me or what?”

“Very well, but a warning. The box isn’t to be had. You will solve the box but the box will own you even though you wish to own it. Many people have sought this puzzle box.”

“What ever, just give me the fucking thing.”

The Merchant looks at the man asking for the box, “Here is your precious box, American. It was always been yours”

My journey didn’t begin when I finally obtained the box, oh no it started years before then. From a story one of my students had written I became obsessed in the this puzzle box that could summon Hell. This is my story of how seeking for truth of the puzzle box sent me into torment beyond my dreams.

Search for Flesh

The puzzle box was something I had been searching the world for. I had found the proper name of the box to be the Lament Configuration from an occult shop in New York. You think something that is a source of such pleasures would be easy to find, but that wasn’t the case. The name didn’t come easy for me but in this country money talked and I had all that I needed to search for it. More than one person was more than willing to speak of the box when they saw a thousand dollars laid in front of them. At the start, I wanted nothing more to see if the rumors where true regarding the box. I was a Myth hunter, nothing more. Where some people could be easily bought, they would only give me just a little bit of information and never directly to the box. I saw that this puzzle box had a great number of people scared of it. This was more than urban myth. I could see the fear on the faces of people that where telling me of the box. On more than one occasion I saw real mortal fear on their faces. People would cry out in terror begging me not to seek it, find it, and more important solve it. I discarded this warning as nonsense.

All the things I had studied before never turned out to be trying and I highly doubted that this would be any different. One lead would take me to yet another lead but no one so far would have a hand in actually obtaining the box. The more I looked for it the more I saw that a small underground of people knew of it. And it was only a small fraction of the vast population of the world. I had asked many people on how they had come to know of the box. None would tell me and I saw in their eyes they had a story to tell, but none of them would tell me of their run end with the box no matter how much money I put in front of them. It seemed like they where either running from something or wanted to let the tale die. I had heard of one family, the Cotton’s however when I found the address of their house and went to the address the house wasn’t there. There was nothing but a vacant lot.

Knowledge or information of it required the proper acquaintance of the right circles. These small circles kept the secret and themselves off the lips of the general population very well and didn’t take to prying questions. One name finally came to me. Terence Decont. The name was given to be by a bum on the street for a mere bottle of whine. I learned that everyone had a temptation and no matter how scared of this thing they where, give them their temptation and they would talk like a drunken sailor.

When I finally confronted Terence on Phillip Le Marchand, he just looked at me, blinked indifferently, and wanted to know where I had heard his name. I could tell that this large, black man wasn’t happy that his name had been given. That meant other knew about his knowledge and that would mean more and more questions. Unknowing to Dr. Frost he knew first hand of the box. His brother had sought the box and all Terence found of his brother was bits and pieces of flesh and a shiny golden box. The police had written it off because they could find any suspects or any weapon around the house. His brother’s case rested in the police department under the heading of unsolved. Terence knew the box wasn’t any good but had been left the box by the authorities. Terence was tempted to try to figure out what had happened to his brother, but only after a week worth of digging he abandoned his search and had sold the box to a friend of his. What had happened to the box after that he had no idea, and really didn’t care to know. He still had nightmares of walking in and seeing his brother remains scattered over his living room. He could still smell the blood and had locked out the memory until this man came to ask of it. In a rush of red his brother’s murder came flooding back. He had loved his brother and his brother had taken care of him after their mother simply walked out on the two brothers. His brother had protected him from all the things that his brother has slipped into. His brother made sure he went to school and always was strict with him. Because of this Terence had a successful life and gotten to the point where he was helping his brother, but hadn’t heard from his brother. When he had went to check up on him he found the grisly scene.

I was surprised to not to hear a negative response about Le Marchand from Terence. Where as the others wanted something from me Terence was more than happy to give the information for me like he had been hiding the secret for some time. He only offered a name and when I questioned him on how he knew of the box, he just looked at me with cold, empty eyes. After a few minutes of complete silence he handed me a note and asked me to leave. As I left his place I opened the folded piece of paper and looked at it. There was an address written down. The address was in Charleston, SC and the name on the first line was the Pact of the Gash. Below that address was a name that he said he had sold the box to. I had two good leads.

So I went to South Carolina looking for this circle. I had high hopes and almost ran with childlike glee to the address when the cab let me out in front of the building. There was a bunch of tourists around snapping pictures and loudly speaking about how beautiful this or that was. If I hadn’t been so hyped up I might have taken time to take in the scenery. I stood in front of the house that had the address on it. My throat was dry and I was a slight bit scared. From all the people I had asked about the Lament Configuration only one thing kept returning, the look of sorrow. Every one of these people looked like they had something to hide none had given me their personal stories and I thought it rude to ask. I saw a small boy looking at me. With a jagged toothed smile he approached me. He told me that his mother wanted to see me. I had never met this boy and now he had picked me out of a crowded street and told me that I was to talk to his mother. Rather odd, and for a minute I was going to dismiss it as an attempt to lead me into building where men would be waiting for me and then rob me. But the child was insistent that I come to speak with his mother.

The boy led me to a little shop that seemed all too small in the market district. The walls of the shop where very small and where no more than seven feet across and maybe five feet long. The shop was littered with tourist nick knacks. A rather large woman is behind the wooden counter where a cash register rests. She has small glasses over her eyes and is almost comical in the way the glasses are a sharp contrast to her large frame. She looks at me and starts to tell me of the Pact of the Gash. These are the survivors of the horrors of the box. While none of the group had never had direct contact with the box. All these people where members of families in whom someone in their family had been a victim of a horrible crime. Only one thing tied this grouped together. All of these victims where found with the puzzle box nearby. She had told me that the exact number of the victims was not known because no one wanted to keep records of such events. All the members of the Pact where only there to help those that had gone through the same things they had. It was a support group, more or less, but the woman reminded me that none would talk of the events they had come into after the fact. She had told me that the majority of victims had been literally torn apart. The grisly manner of these murders where never explained and the families wanted nothing more than to put away these horrible events. She told me that even two bodies where never found and these people where supposedly taken by the devil himself. She told me to pray for my own soul because whatever I sought it was indeed real. She told me the small puzzle box could summon demons to earth and they didn’t do the callers bidding. She told me that these demons would only attack the guilty and to solve the box was the means to summons these demons. Before I left she offered one last clue. She told me the police wouldn’t investigate these crimes and some thought it was a massive cover up and that they knew more than they where telling people. People thought that the police where covering up a serial killer but the only thing was that these types of murders where world wide.

No known leader was known of the Pact and she suggested that I let the dead rest. These families had been through Hell. This new information only made my lust for the box stronger. Where as she had warned me of the damage the box could do I felt that I could be different and I had to know more. I walked out of the shop writing in my journal of the new information I had learned. I wrote the words “Pact of the Gash.” This new entry wasn’t very long and I wrote what the woman had told me. I considered the idea of tracking down this group however I felt it would only slow me down. These people had no real contact with the box, I thought, why should I stir the dead?

After that I really didn’t get any good information for months. I looked for the guy Terence wrote below the Pact of the Gash but the guy was no where to be found. I stayed in Charleston for about a week looking for the man. It was like the man never existed and I had given up hope until I was told at a book store that they had seen the guy maybe two weeks ago. I asked why he came to a book shop and they told me that he was researching a box he was carrying with him. The shop keeper told me that they had no clue on what the box was but commented that he had looked at the box and it was beautifully constructed. As he talked about the box for a while I saw that this was indeed the box I was looking for. The shop keeper told me that the guy had purchased a couple of books and paid with them by check. I asked for an address, the shopkeeper wouldn’t give out the guys address because of store policy. Couple of hundreds later and I had the address. He always told me that the address was basically five minutes away from the shop.

I walked out the shop and began to walk down the street. I didn’t know the city all that well and the shopkeeper told me the route I needed to take. I walked the route in which he had told me and before I knew it I was on the street he told me. I walked up to the apartment and knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again. No answer. I looked around and knocked on the door again. Still no answer. Ok the guy was not there. For some reason I got an idea to try to get in. I had never done such a thing and I never for a minute thought what I was going to do wrong. I pulled out my credit card and jammed it in the door seal. To my surprise the door popped open. The door creaked open and I looked back to see if I was being watched and there was no one on the street so I walked in and shut the door. The putrid smell of something rotten immediately stuck my nostrils and I almost threw up in the same instant. I heard the buzzing of flies. I knew what had happened and looked at the door as if looking for it to tell me to get out. I put my hand on the door knob and for a second was going to run out and leave this behind even before seeing what was causing the smell. I wanted to know so I took my hand off the door knob and started walking into the apartment. The place was pretty sparse and looked like someone had just moved in. No furniture was on the floors and as I flipped on a light switch none of the lights came on. Even though it was day, the apartment was dark in spots with only the area near the window lit. From this window enough light shown through to the back for me to see where the flies where coming from. It was like a swarm of flies in the back right corner of the apartment. A mattress lay in the corner and on it looked like dried blood. As I inched closer to this horrible scene I kept looking at the mattress. I wanted to throw up but I wanted to see what had happened here. My stare was locked on the blood soaked mattress. Flies buzzed around me and the smell of dead flesh was ever present and seemed to get worse as I got closer to the mattress. Next thing I knew I was on my back. I had slipped on something. As a put my hand down to lift myself up the thought came to mind. It was blood! The whole scene seemed to unveil itself and I saw the remains of either a large animal or a human. Pieces of flesh where all around the ground. I stood up quickly and about fell down again on the slippery blood. Nothing that was left there would give me any clue of it was animal or human but I knew. It was the guy I was looking for. The ghastly scene slipped my mind when I thought about what I had heard. If there was a torn up body here then there had to be Lament Configuration around here somewhere! The horrible scene faded from my mind. I had to find the box! I cussed out loud as I almost slipped once again. I looked around and fumbled around in the dark looking for the puzzle box. I remember seeing a stairwell coming in so I ran up the stairs. At the top of the stairs I had to stop and I cussed my heavy frame. My heart was beating and I was out of breath. I sat down on the top stair. Then out of the darkness came the thumping of foot steps. There was someone else in apartment with me! I just sat there on the stair and awaited the footsteps to reveal who ever it was. In the muted light came a thing dressed in all black. It looked like a female form but it stopped short of the brilliant light. All I saw was a black foot. Then I heard another set of foot steps. I was mortified and the words formed in my head Cenobites! I began to question why they could be here and then I realized that the events that I had stumbled into had just concluded.

“Most unsatisfying.”

The voice was deep and very male. I couldn’t move and if the Cenobites would just had looked up the steps I knew I would be killed or worse. Thoughts of running ran through my head but that would only mean my end so I sat there praying they didn’t see me. Then the Cenobites stepped into the light. Both horror and delight filled me. I saw two of them in plain daylight. One of them looked a lot like Pinhead. I watched as Pinhead bent down and picked up a box. I cursed myself of not looking where the box was. However the box wasn’t in the usual shape. It almost looked like a star and Pinhead ran his finger around the middle. He was looking at the box and the box’s shape shifts then lifts up and then goes to a box form. I couldn’t control my delight and I giggled like a girl. This slip up made both of the cenobites immediately look right at me. The female cenobite snarled at me and Pinhead’s dark eyes looked right into mine. However even though they had seen me they didn’t move. I was locked into a stare with Pinhead himself. All sorts of emotions ran through me. I was terrified but yet calm. His black eyes showed no emotion or ill will. Then an instant later both of them where gone. The shock of seeing them kept me seated. I couldn’t move and it seemed like my joints where frozen. Then I saw a large man standing at the door. His grizzled look made him look like a bum. His clothes where dirty and grimy and he had a large beard that wasn’t kept very well. I saw the golden box on the ground where the Cenobites just had been. The bum walks over to the box and picks it up. I wanted to scream out not to take it but I couldn’t. The fear of seeing the Cenobites had paralyzed me. The bum, with the box, walks out the door. The paralysis seemed to lift and I shot up and out the door looking for the bum. I looked in four directions and I couldn’t see any sign of him. I had just found all that I was looking for but it was all gone. It was a let down for me For the next couple of months I didn’t get the leads that I had in Charleston. I had spent a week there because the cops wanted to question me on the ghastly scene in that apartment. I was asked every question they could ask and I told them everything other than about the Cenobites. I didn’t want to be locked up in some asylum because no one sane would understand what had just happened to me. The Charleston Police let me go after they saw I had nothing to do with the murder. I had lied and said the door was opened. They didn’t need to know many things about that place.

After that event all I found was more dead ends. It seemed like no one wanted dealings with this box. One knowing man even ran away from me like the devil himself was chasing him when I mentioned the name Phillip Le Marchand. But I was relentless and when I got a negative response I didn’t allow that to deter me. I had gotten tasty tid bits now and again and I had found out more about the box in New Orleans. I had been directed there from the woman in South Carolina for more information. I had tried this city trying to milk secrets regarding Le Marchand. Not much was known and what was known was down right creepy. In fact two different myths existed.

The Lament Configuration had an ominous past to it and as an interested, ok I was obsessed, Professor in which my hobby was Myths and Legends; I wanted to research the box. The mythos surrounding the puzzle box was almost epic however short. What had started in the 1700’s by a man named Phillip Le Marchand has spanned through the centuries claiming souls as the epic tells. The exact origin of the Lament Configuration has never been documented but various rumors told of a man that had commissioned the Toy Maker Le Marchand to fashion the box. Of course, the toy maker had no clue to what end the man had in mind for the box. This man was an occultist that had found the recipe to summon a demon to the earth. Of course, Hell was never meant to be controlled by men and even this powerful magician fell to the treachery of the demon he had summoned and to the box’s power. Other myths say that Le Marchand fully understood and even brought about the deaths of fourteen people in the construction of the box. Not much more was known of Le Marchand and the last record of him had him disappearing from the earth and never being heard from after that.

I had graduated from Duke University with a medical practice degree. However, I had an interest in the Occult. Of course, much of my research leads me to fake religions with no power. I had sought the Devil and found him only a construct of a religion seeking to torment its followers in order to scare them in not questioning anything its leaders said. However the mystery surrounding the box was that the box was to make those it chose mystical creatures of great power. These beings where bringers of pain, however they where selective beings in which only those that solved the puzzle box would they torture. Their names had come to great expense to me. The names of The Engineer and the Cenobites where murmured in secret and in hushed voice. The Engineer was the supposed “leader” of this mystical realm and his main dealer of pain was “Pinhead.” I had researched The Engineer and even less people that would even speak his name and thus found any literally references to this supposed ruler of Hell. No one knows his beginning but it is clear that many people believed him to be real. I had even found a list of names that had sought the box in the past and all attempts had lead to missing links and horrible stories. The Cotton house was one such horror story. The box had practically consumed the whole family and the only known survivor was no where to be found. I had found out that the box was to open the portals of hell it’s self.

While the biblical stories tell of Hell was a place of fiery and painful this portal of hell was supposed to be a never ending, dusty labyrinth with its stewards of this realm where to bring both pleasure and pain to those that sought Hell. One text that I had found in China told of pleasure to the point of pain. Various other stories I found. Most of the other ones where variations of the ones I had already found and none of them offered any new information.

I had never married because my obsession in myths had practically consumed all my time and money. No women would stand by and let all my attention go to my work. I really never held on to a woman for more than a couple of years because they all saw that my attention was on this puzzle box. For twenty years I had sought the Cenobites. Even my students found me to be unapproachable because all I wanted to talk about was urban myths and the puzzle box being my favorite topic of discussion. They wanted to know about the medical field and all I wanted to talk about was the Cenobites and the box. Even some of my lectures would drift off into the mythos of the Lament Configuration. This wouldn’t have been so bad it the class hadn’t been about myth and not biology. The university deans came to the conclusion that I was of no use to them and I was released shortly after the fall semester had ended. Only one student had showed interest in the box and there for awhile I thought she was only humoring an old man by letting me talk about it. After me getting fired she would come to my small house wanting to know of the puzzle box. Phillip Le Marchand was really of interest to her. His disappearance was almost seductive. We spoke together for hours regarding the myth of the puzzle box. Her unabashed questions would catch me off guard from time to time however I saw that she had a real interest in the my obsession. Only thing with her she didn’t allow it to consume her like I did. I figured she would run when I told her about the horrific nature associated with the box, however she didn’t run. She would even help me from time to time using her computer searching the Internet for information regarding the box. She was my only real friend that wasn’t scared away by my work.

My nice sized house was filled with instruments of the occult and I had spent a small fortune of these devices that little more than toys. None of them really had any real power as the people in which I had purchased them from claimed however with each purchase he learned more and more of the “puzzle box.” First through whispers, then through mummers and then finally a lead to a man that claimed to have one of these boxes. I had never found out how many of these boxes actually existed however I must obtain them all and if I couldn’t find them all then one would do. I wanted the Lament Configuration.

The tales where varied but one name for these “demons” kept coming up. The Cenobites where supposed be the most horrible of human kind and they had sought the box seeking more carnage. Their collective name was The Order of the Gash even though the order never really appeared in tales all that much. They had found it in the box and The Engineer had changed them into the image he saw fit. Not much was really know more. I ran across their names. Names of eight I found in a musky back room of an old book shop. The books name was “Of Demons” written totally in Chinese and no author was scribbled in its pages. I had run across a list of Cenobite names. I had no clue if it was a complete list. I spent hours in my journal sketching these demons based on written descriptions I had found in different texts. Most of the Cenobites where described in great detail in the Chinese language. I believed that China knew of these beings very well. But with most of my time spent running up and down the United States a trip to China was out of the question. I felt that I had enough in these texts and to go there seeking more knowledge or even the author of these texts would be a waste of time. I figured that the author had taken great pains not to identify himself and it was better to leave him or her unknown. It told of all the known demons of the world but only the Cenobites was I seeking.

Angelique was a demon summoned to earth by either Le Marchand or the Duc de L'Isle, no one really knows. While her flesh was of a beautiful human woman but her black heart only had her own plans in mind as she laid her web down for the men around her. Angelique was regarded highly in Hell. This supposed Princess fell from Hell’s favor by trying to overthrow the Cenobites with her own desires. She was made into Cenobite in order to make her learn her place.

The Chatterer was a stand up comic before becoming Hell’s Cenobite. In his height of popularity and vanity he sought the pleasures of the flesh and finally found The Lament Configuration. He was transformed from human to Cenobite.

Butterball, well that’s all I found out about him. I found just the name and well a well drawn picture. Scary demon indeed. Other names and pictures where found but no bio information was given. Bound and Stitch. One named simply “female cenobite.” I trembled at finding one named The Surgeon. Its mangled faced sent the sicken feeling down to my stomach. Only one more was found. It was named Pinhead and he was the leader of the Order of the Gash. His face was scared with lined cuts that intersected at points with what looked like a 3 inch pin. The book was short in his information and I guess that more was to be known of these Cenobites but this book was a good start.

This “Pinhead” held my interest the most. I had seen him face to face and he seemed the less savage of any of them. He seemed almost gentlemanly if such of a thing could exist in the Cenobites. I had never conversed with him but his demon eyes seem to hold a form of humanity where as the others where purely beastly. Two tales of him existed as with all things associated with this puzzle box. One of the tales was of a WWI solider named Elliot Spenser who put an end of many enemy soldiers in his defense of his country. This solider had sought the box and was transformed into “Pinhead” and the almost god like tales that I was still looking into and had no clue of a name.

Once a gentle and scholarly man, I had been consumed by the tales of the Cenobites and would do anything to obtain new information regarding the Order of the Gash and after my run in with two of them nothing was going to stop me. I had been a practicing doctor for many years and at one point was the head of a large hospital. But my searches for the truth of the Lament Configuration slowly lead me down a road of flesh. My searching took me all over the world but my abundant bank account left me with the means to find out more about this puzzle box. I indulged in all forms of pleasure, all the while seeking information of The Engineer and his Order of the Gash.

Whatever it took to find out about it, was my motto and these obsessions had lead me to obscure whore houses, drug houses and through the sleaze of the large city I had lived in. What I found there didn’t quench my thirsts and I moved on to other countries. However the more I found out the more it lead me to want to know more. I felt like I was being lead like cattle to the slaughter but the truth I sought had taken me in and I didn’t care where I was lead as long as I found out more. My desire for knowledge had led me to many countries and each country offered me more and more information but in little morsels of information. I had found quite bit information and all of this information I had collected into a journal and when one journal would fill up then I would just start another one. I had five journals full of information regarding the box and half completed six one now and I kept intensive records and drawings of the box and my artistic renderings of the Cenobites. Origins and rumors where scratched in my own hand. I had spent countless hours writing down what I had heard and had seen. In a digital age I refused to store my findings in the realm of cyberspace. These journals were my babies and I protected them like a good father would. No one was going to find what I have written by mere chance. I had spent way too much time and more important money just to let someone to find it without some effort.

My latest journeys lead me to England where I was told that a puzzle box had been spotted. In London I had found the most promising lead yet and from what I had been told even more promising than in my chance encounter with the Cenobites. A shop keeper was said to have one of the Le Marchand box’s I had searched for so so long. As I left the airport my desire for flesh came through strongly. I asked the driver to take him to nearest brothel. The driver told him what I looked for was not the nearest but the best. The driver looked like a bum with dirty, grimy face and a grizzled beard guarding his face. He wore a dirty grey trucker’s hat and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. The smell was almost as bad as the apartment in Charlestown but I felt that I was very close to finding the box so that I felt that I must endure the driver. I nodded my approval to the driver and the driver smiled with yellow stained teeth. The whole drive the driver said nothing and only stared straight ahead looking into the damp English city side. It was rainy, and despite what people say about England it doesn’t always rain. I loved the English countryside. I was American however I considered myself born again English. Something about the country was warm and inviting. Yes, the weather could be extreme and the monarchy had its scandals, but the country itself was beautiful.

- Confessions of Flesh -

Dr Frost was in his late 50’s and most of his young life he spent playing sports. He was of average height and average build but he had good taste in clothing. However age had taken his body and he wasn’t quite as in good shape as he once was. His suits where expensive and imported, mostly from Italy. He had a thing for hats and was almost seen where his favorite fedora. He fancied himself an adventurer and had chased supernatural tales for years. His many years working at the hospital had left his estate in the millions. He ignored all those that loved him and the only real love was his constant thirst in the unmentionable myths that where only told in whisper.

The road was wet with recent rain and the city street where pretty well empty of people. He always loved London even though it was a cold and unforgiving city to him. He had only been to London twice. The trips where for him to be researching a werewolf said to live there and the other time trying to find morsels of information of the now legendary Count Dracula. Both trips proved to be a disappointment and he had giving up his search for the werewolf and vampire. When he first heard of the Ornate Box, the short story enthralled him and energized his imbibitions. For the most part no matter what he had researched led to disappointment and failure. However, this was the one tale that seemed to have some substance.

“Here you go, sir.”

“Oh, thank you,” Dr Frost smiled and exited the small taxi. As he went to pay the driver the driver waved his hand in the air.

“No need to pay, sir. The Engineer seeks you and because of that there is no charge.”

These words seemed to strike the doctor hard and before he could respond the driver had already drove off. Frost looked around. He saw nothing that would indicate that a whore house was around. In fact, the city streets where empty, no cars, no anything to suggest that humans even lived there. Even the surrounding building where devoid of lighting even though it had to be around 9pm. Frost looks down at his watch.

“Engineer doesn’t go by time.”

The sudden voice startled Frost. His fright sent a pain to his bladder and he thought that he would piss him self.

“No need for alarm Doctor Frost.”

In front of him was a woman maybe in her early 30’s. He face showed age beyond her actual years.

“Are you working,” Frost asked.

“Depends on the request? You seek The Engineer do you not?”

“Well, in a way but I’m looking for something else at the moment.”

“Ah, I see. The flesh? Follow me then.”

The woman didn’t look like a prostitute and Frost had no way of judging what she looked like under the thick coat she wore. She seemed shapely but maybe a bit over weight. The coat covered her well so he couldn’t get a good look at her body. She was a little taller than him, maybe around 5’ 9” and seemed to move unencumbered by weight. She had dark hair that was under a knit cap. He followed her into a small door way where she rang a bell.

“Who is it,” a woman’s voice asked?

“It’s me.”

A buzzing sound sounded and the woman opened the door. She walked in and held the door open so that Dr. Frost could enter.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“Just call me Frost, miss.”

“Oh kind like meaning cold?”

She had no English accent that Frost could tell and almost sounded American. She led the way up the stairs and said nothing more as she walked up the stairs. As she reached the top of the stairs she stopped at a door.

“Here’s what you are looking for, Frost.”

She smiled and made her way down the steps. And faded into the doorway in which they came in. Something unsettling came over Frost like something was not quite right here.

His long search had led him to what he felt like to conclusion right here in front of this door. Both fear and excitement filled his body. He looked at the door knob. Nothing sinister he told himself. A flash of memory of the Cenobites surged through him as he touched the knob. This made him let go of the knob and look down at his hand. The fear quickly faded. Should he knock? Instead he reached for the door knob and turned it. To his surprise it was unlocked. He opened the door and as it creaked open his fear faded away. Inside was a naked woman standing in the middle of the small room as if waiting for him. The room was lighted by candle light and heavy curtains covered the windows. The color of the curtains where gold and the room was painted in a dark red almost the color of maroon. Frost could see why no light was showing down to the street. The woman was beautiful. Her body was trim and her breasts where medium size. The woman was around five foot four inches.

“Please, Mr. Frost, sit.”

“That’s Doctor, ma’am.”

“Ego I see, you will serve The Engineer well, I can tell.” She ignored his request to be called by the title.

“You have sought him from quite some time, Mr. Frost. But the question is not the answer but yet another question.” The woman spoke in an almost monotone voice as if repeating something she had frequents a script a million times before.

“And the question, ma’am?”

“It has been different for the thousands before you. The question is something I can not ask but rather it is you that must ask it. Your knowledge precedes the ones that came before you, however you know more than those poor souls. Even in your vast knowledge of The Engineer, you still seek him?”

“That I do, ma’am.”

“Then I will tell you this, what you have heard, found, and written is true. You have seen more than any other living being. Pleasure beyond imagination is to be had, pleasure of weak flesh is to be had, however that pleasure comes to an end.”

“The Cenobites?”

“The Order of the Gash? They are mere instruments to a great realm. What you ask for none has returned from. More important their very souls are in torment even now. No one has escaped without paying the price, including these demons you seek. They are mere servants of Leviathan's. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“What of the box?”

“Mere instrument. It was made from the hands of a French toymaker. But the toy maker is not responsible for what the box opens. The door way has always existed and always will. No origin, no beginning, it has always been. Humans have found the way to open the gates and the box is an instrument to do so. One doesn’t need the box to open it however it is the easy way. Humans are always looking for the easy way out and this is how this came to be.”

“What of this “Pinhead?””

“I suggest you never mummer that name if you do get lucky enough to meet this demon. His real name is Xipe Totec even though not many know of this name. His origin is not of my knowledge however I wouldn’t seek it”

Frost struggles to find his notebook and excitement fills him as he writes down this new bit of information. This interview was giving him answer beyond his hopes. The woman walks towards him and her breasts are at his eye level. Frost wants to fulfill his desires but he getting all that he asked for. Who ever this woman was he was getting even more information from her. He fought back the desire as he looked at her naked body.

“I see that I am giving you pleasure. Good, Professor, then you have come to know what this is all about however I warn you, if you are not ready to slip this realm called earth. Further not your research anymore Professor your mortal life is on a razor’s edge and any further and you’re going to find what you don’t want.”

“Your name, ma’am?”

“It has been many things for many thousands of years but you can call me Angelique.”

He stops writing and with shaking hand, he drops his pencil. That name sent chills up Frost back. He had heard of the demon Angelique. In fact she was given reverence by Xipe Totec himself. “Princess,” he had called her. Her true form was of a Cenobite; however this woman looked human in ever sense of the word.

“But aren’t you cenobite?”

“I am of the Order, but you have sought us and we have found you.”

“Wait! I didn’t find the box, and I didn’t solve it!”

“I told you that the box was one increment into hell and one path to the Order of the Gash.”

“Then I am lifeless!”

“What is alive and what is dead? We only know flesh. We know no death and we know of no life.”

“Wait, then I am to be mutilated?”

The alarm rings out loudly and Frost jumps out of bead, scared out of his mind! He looks around the hotel room looking for Angelique. She is no where to be found. The disorientation of his surprising real feeling dream leaves him with a headache. He searches for some aspirin and finds some in his shaving bag. As he fiddles with the lid unsuccessfully the phone rings.

“Jesus Christ!”

Aspirin flys all over the hotel room floor as his sudden moment pops up the top of the bottle. Frost answers the phone.

“Hello,” he croaks out.

“Mr. Frost, sir, this is the attendant down stairs, your cab is here.”

“Thank you,” Frost answers quickly. Before he can finish the phone goes dead. The question in his mind is: “When did I order a cab?”

Frost finds himself already dressed and the frightening dream begins to fade out of his mind as reality slowly fades back in. He picks up the aspirin and places the pills back into the bottle minus two pills in which he pops into his mouth. He gags as he tastes carpet fiber but swallows the tablets anyway. He doesn’t remember checking into a hotel room. The room looks nice enough. It isn’t a suite, his normal stay when stays at a hotel. In the past couple of months he has found more about the Cenobites and the puzzle box than he has in years,

He turns on the light over the sink. His face looks even older after that dream. “Get a hold of your self,” he orders himself. He looks down at his hands and they are filled with blood! He turns on the sink to wash away the blood however there isn’t any blood there.

Frost walks out his room and into the walkway. The large hotel is nicely contrasted and high quality furniture is placed at the end the hall near the elevator. Frost makes his way to the elevator and pushes the down button. He hears a hum as the elevator makes it way to the floor where Frost is. The door opens after a loud ding noise. No one in the elevator as Frost enters. He pushes the first floor button and the elevator door closes and then the elevator goes down to the first floor. The elevator walls are mirrored steal and Frost looks at himself in the reflective surface. He puts a finger under his eye trying to erase the age from under his eyes. It is gone, for a moment, until he lets go and the age comes back. He plays with his hair and wonders if his hair line is starting to run away on him. Then he sees a face behind that he doesn’t want to see. The Chatterer Cenobite was behind me. It’s jaw going up and down. I jerk around and there’s no one in the elevator.

As the door opens Frost sees a vast foyer with marble floors. He pops his head out of the elevator to see if any more surprises where in store for him. Great taste, but he doesn’t ever remember checking himself into any hotel much less this nice of one. He makes his way to the front desk and once there he asks a girl behind the counter:

“When did I check in?”

“Excuse me? You don’t remember when you checked in sir?”

“Old age, dear, is sneaking up on me.” Frost chuckles uneasy

“Just one moment, sir, and I will check.” The girl taps on the keyboard behind the desk.

“4:15 pm, sir.”

“What day?”

“Sir, are you ok?”

“Yes, just a bit disorientated, that’s all.”

“Monday, sir, four days ago.”

Frost can’t remember this place or ever being here for that long. Seems to him that his mind is indeed slipping. He is seeing things that aren’t there and he is starting to wonder if he is going mad. He hears a phone ring. The desk girl answers the phone.

“Yes, he’s right here.”

“Sir, your cab wants to know what is taking so long?”

“Oh yes, the cab!”

Frost makes his door out the front door. He thinks himself in London however he sees that it is Paris! Before he has time to ponder this new crinkle he hears the horn of the taxi cab.

“Coming!” He shouts.

Once in the cab the cabbie doesn’t ask Frost’s destination and only takes off quickly sending Frost back hard into the back seat. The sudden speed only disorientates him even more. Frost tries to shake the dream and tries to recall how he got to Paris. His thoughts can’t be recalled.

“Where I am going?”

“The Louvre, monsieur.”

“Very well, then.” He figures that it would be better to go along with the ride rather than trying to fight it. After all he is still sane right? He feels tired almost like he’s been up for days. His head begins to nod. Frost doesn’t want to sleep and he fights the sleep back.

Frost sees the cab driver watching him closely. He wants to yell out that yes, indeed, he has lost his mind. However better judgment prevents him from doing it. Frost fumbles around his coat pockets and finds a cell phone. He flips through the names in the phonebook most names don’t look familiar to him but one stands out and he pushes send. After a couple of rings a woman’s voice answers.

“Hello?”

“Yes, is this Jesse?”

“Yea, Don, what’s up?”

Frost thinks that the voice sounds awfully young even though her name is the only thing he can remember.

“Having a spell of old age, dear. Can you pull up my schedule and recite it to me please.”

His office he remembers. She is my assistant.

“Ok, yes I have it here. You are to stay in Paris till the 20^th. That’s two days from now and then on to London for three days and then to Berlin for four days. You are to arrive back in the states on the 30^th of this month.

“Very well, thank you Jesse.”

“No problem, Don, anything else?”

“No that’s it.”

Don hits the end button and sees the driver looking at the road. Don sees that he is close to the Louvre now. He takes out his notebook and pencil. His hands shake as he flips through his notes hoping not to see the conversation with Angelique documented. To his delight it isn’t. He writes down the new schedule and flips through the previous pages. Most of it is about the puzzle box he is seeking. He rereads the words only to refresh his memory. Remembering the name from the name he writes down the name of Xipe Totec. Odd name he tells himself. He can’t grasp the origin of the name or even the nationality.

“Here you go monsieur, de Louvre.”

“Thank you.” Don gets out of the cab and goes around to the front driver side to pay the man.

“Your ride has already been paid for, monsieur.”

The taxi driver pulls off with a wave to Don.

Don enters the front door of the museum and is approached immediately by a man.

“Monsieur Frost?”

“Yes.”

“This way sir.” The short French man is in tuxedo and almost looks butler like to Don. The “butler” leads him to a door and opens it.

“Someone will be with you shortly. Please be seated.”

Don sits down in a chair and looks around the office. Nothing really stands out. He hears the door open behind him.

“Good day, Don.”

The voice seems familiar and very French.

“Good day.” He answer back

The man sits down in front of him and Don remembers a name Luc De Per.

“Now, you want to know about Le Marchand? Not a name you hear much from people, don’t you know.”

“Just found out the name not long ago.”

“Most people don’t want to know of the name. He was supposedly a devil worshipper of some sort. Toy maker by trade but had more sinister side projects.”

“You know of his puzzle box then?”

“He has made numerous boxes.”

“The Lament Configuration?”

“Yes, we have etchings of the designs.”

This excited Don greatly. He had heard of mere rumors of the box but now he would have proof of the box being substance.

“Could I possibly see?”

“I wouldn’t show you if you weren’t such a friend of the museum and not many people know of these drawings. I ask that you never tell of this to anyone else. We don’t want the wrong sort of people showing up looking for them.”

“So the box has power over Hell?”

“I am a Christian, so I don’t believe in it, however some of my fellow workers believe in its sorcery and the mere urban myth and admittance of its existence would tear wholes into every major religion known to society.”

“You mean the idea of something than the biblical view of heaven and hell?”

“Yes and the admittance of power over demons, something that the Bible says that died long ago. Come with me and I will show you.”

The two men walk down a long hallway together. Don’s disorientation has faded away with the great news. He is surprised that his friend would show him something that could discount his own faith.

“Here.”

Don sees a very large door with no windows. A large steal door stands in front of him.

“Here is where are most valuable items are stored. Some of which the general public will never see.”

Luc opens the door and it creaks open. Don enters the door. Luc immediately shuts the door.

“I would get into serious trouble by allowing you to be here. But the etchings are here.” He points to a single drawer. “I will leave you be for a bit.”

Don takes out his notebook and gets his pencil ready. To his surprise he sees that the etching are of Le Marchand own hand! He has just seen the original work of the famed toy maker. He touches the paper as if he has found the Holy Grail itself. He hands shake and tremble as he touches the designs. The paper seems to come to life as he touched the circular pattern. This amazes him and continues to trace the circle around two more times. The paper begins to glow!

“Don! Don’t do that! I knew it was a mistake showing you this! For your own sake forger what you have seen!”

“Why are you all bent out of shape Luc?

“Le Marchand is of my bloodline and this is my personal secret. The government knows nothing of this being here. I could get into major trouble if they did.”

“So they know of the myth?”

“They deny it as do most people.”

“Your bloodline you say? I thought they where all killed off.”

“Not all the myth is true, Don, and for my family’s sake it’s best to leave it that way.”

“So tell me more then, if you know more.”

“Let’s go to my office.”

Don’s mind was racing now. Luc was a direct ancestor to Phillip Le Marchand and he knew of his families secrets and more important he was going to tell Don the story. Don couldn’t have been more proud of himself. His search of this myth was truth unlike so many of the other ones. Luc was about Don’s age and they had met in San Francisco on an art tour. Both men had stuck up an accord fairly quickly because Luc to seem to have a fascination with the same line of myths that Don did. Luc had helped Don try to track down the countless myths of French and American myths but none of them had any substance but Luc had ducked Don’s countless questions about the Le Marchand puzzle box and now Don knew why.

“Sit down, Don.”

“Certainly, please tell me from the start please.”

“Phillip Le Marchand was a toy maker however the exact story branches off. Either he was commissioned by a local occultist to fashion a puzzle box. Thinking nothing of it and glad to have some work that paid well Phillip did as instructed but he had to know what his work was being used for. That was the end of Phillip because the man that had hired my bloodline found a way to summon a demon to the mortal plane of existence. Others tell of that Le Marchand knew what he was doing and became a mass murderer to bring about the power to allow the puzzle box to summon demons.

The story I know you know from there however the puzzle box my blood help create isn’t the only one. There are countless ways supposed to be open the gates of hell. Of course, Marchand’s puzzle box is the more famous one and considered the first one. You want to know of the Cenobites? Well, they attempted to end my bloodline numerous times and in the end always failed. To keep them from ever finding us we went into hiding. And with our name supposedly gone from the face of the earth, they never sought us out again. They have no agenda but only to do their masters bidding and well to torment those that summon them.”

“Have you ever seen them?”

“Those that have aren’t around to speak of it. Survivors do exist however like my family they have sought disappearance from the Earth. Kristy Cotton is the only known survivor to face the cenobites however her motives are suspect and I suggest you stay away.”

“55 Lodovico Street, in London right?”

“Stay away from that evil place. I hear that the house doesn’t exist but I’m not going to find out.”

“Already been there.”

“Interesting.”

“Why hide the etchings here? Why haven’t you destroyed them?

“There’s a couple of reasons why. I hide them here because of their demonic power. Mere drawings however they have taken on a demonic nature and also they hold salvation if all else fails. They are the blue print in which can summon hell but also release hell and rid the cenobites. The sorcerer knew what he was doing when he designed the box. There is a duality to the puzzle box and it can never be destroyed. I keep the original for safe keeping. I know that if push came to shove that nothing could keep someone from getting them and that’s why I have kept it secret until now.

“I’m surprised given your previous supposed lack of knowledge of the subject.”

“Telling anyone what I have told you would mean my death and the death of many more. The Cenobites, well one in particular tried to take over earth. He failed however I am sure there are others wanting to make an attempt.”

“So there’s more than four?”

“Countless, my friend no one really know an exact number.”

“You know of Xipe Totec?”

“Supposedly a god himself, but he is yet another instrument and servants of Leviathan's. He knows his job and he knows it well.”

“Anything else I have forgotten to ask?”

“I suggest you leave your quest for the box now. You will only find pain, my friend and in abundance.”

With that advice Luc got up from his desk and opened the door in suggestion that Don where to leave.

“It’s been good to see you and I strongly suggest that you abandon looking for the Le Marchand box. Well, maybe I should say forget all you know of the Cenobites. There’s nothing but agony to find in that mystery.”

“Well, thanks for your time. I think I will take in the sites once again. After all Paris has to be one of the most beautiful cities in the world right?”

“That it is, stay safe and go with God.”

Don had his mind set and it had nothing to do with God. He had made up his mind to find The Order of the Gash one way or the other. Paris was known for it’s occult community and he know just the woman to see. It was time to go into the underbelly of Paris.

Don walked outside of the museum while tourists went in to see the famous art of the world his mind was on a piece of art that no one knew even was real. He takes out his trusty pocket camera and smiles. He had the pictures of the La Marchand puzzle box. Now to have them developed. He went to a photo shop and places the film into the small bag and speaks to the shop keeper. For the right amount of money anything was instant and in five minutes he had his prints. He lustily flips through the photos.

“Masterpiece!” He chuckles. He pockets the pictures and walks smiling to an awaiting cab.

“La Rouge,” Don announces his destination to the cab driver. The cabbie nods and pulls off.

Discord & Discovery of Flesh

At La Rouge Don exits the cab. The store front looks like the typical French store front but that was the intent. The actual purpose of this shop was for the underground occult members. It sold things that normal people would find repulsive. I walked into the store and ask to see Mlle. Rouge. In a few seconds and she appears. She is an small woman that lost her physical sight long ago however her sight into the other realms was well know to the occult community. Don leans down and kisses her small, frail hand.

“I smell the dead on you, my friend. Something is seeking you even though you are seeking it. I suggest you no longer continue this journey.”

“I don’t scare easy, witch.”

“No need to be scared and this you know. But you are seeking something better left in shadow.”

“I seek The Order of the Gash.”

“Very well, follow me.” She hobbles to the back room and sits down in a chair. Don notices that even she is hobbling and looks frail she seems to have a great deal of power in her.

“You know of what I seek?”

“La Marchand.”

“His puzzle box mainly.”

“Not many people speak of that puzzle box and those that have are dead to the world.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Shadow follows you, and it’s coming to consume you.”

The woman’s dress was typical French and it looked from the old style however she wore sunglasses over her eyes. It was rumor that she has seen death himself and that caused her to go blind. Some tales tell of that she has no eyeballs at all and that is why she wears sun glasses. The woman’s age isn’t known and no one questions her. She is The Red because in her younger age she had striking red hair. Now the red has faded to white in her old age. Don has talked to her before and in his past adventures she has told him whether or not the myths he hunted where real. This was the first time she has ever said anything other than no.

“Now you must forgive an old woman I need rest.”

“Good bye old woman.”

“Yes, indeed this is good bye and I won’t see you again.” With that she gets up from her chair and starts her ascent up some stairs. Don watches until she turns the corner of the next floor and disappears into a room.

He looks at one of the shop keepers.

“Can I show you something?”

“But of course.”

Don hands the pictures over to the man. What do you make of these?

“Monsieur, I should not being seeing this.”

“Well, you have and I want to know more of these designs.

“For a price.”

“Always the same.” Don slides over a wad of cash to the man.

“Let’s begin. Here you see four facets,” The man points to one of the sides in the picture. “This one is Obidicut and is for the Fiend of Lust. Second one is Fritiof’s Sword and its name is Stream of Anguish. Third is Esctatici for the Grecian Dreamers. The Fourth facet is Berzack for the space between death and destruction. This four facets are collectively known as Tetragrammaton Sinestre which represents the name of the evil god Jhvh in Hebrew. Dues in Latin. Gott in German and Zuel in East Indian. These are to be said four times at the right time. The chain looking border all around is the Chain of Backward Blessings and basically is a curse. The large circle in the middle is the Schetrum of the Vamachatins for the left handed impure ritual flowers. This summons an army that is formed in a circle.

Now this side here is most interesting. Much to tell here. It’s called the design of Amaimon Intaglio or Devil of the Greeks. Each space on each side of the cube are valleys. Cors’ned here. Pongo here. Butis here which is the Egyptian goddess of night. And finally Baca translated means the valley of weeping. Here is two arches. The Arch of Erebus, the path of darkness to hell, and Airapadam the elephants path that holds the earth on his back. The chain path around the center square is called Rabelaisian Chain that is the links of uncleanness. This space here is the Voids of Gyromancy or the Surrounding Area of Walking in Circles for Divine Answers. The Border around the cube is called Quod of the Conventicle that symbolizes religious dissenters. Now the small things. Here is the Host of Ephialtes and that is the victims of nightmares. Here is Aaron’s serpent.

“This box was made by a toy maker and none really knows if he truly understood what he had brought about in this world. Little is know about the man however the number of the actual number of boxes is rumored to be in the 250 range, give or take. Le Marchand at the age of 94 simply disappeared from this earth and no one knows what happened to him. Some say that he was a prisoner to his own creation and the Cenobites forced him into their bloody service and some say that he did the horrible things in full knowledge. I guess no one will really know what he’s real motives are.

“So, the box contains supernatural power?”

“Not the box itself, but it is a key into realms.”

“Well, you have been most helpful.”

“My friend the only help I can offer is to tell you to stop while you still have your soul.”

“Well, last time I checked it’s still my soul.”

With that, Don left the shop. A cab was awaiting him when he left.

“The Engineer wishes to speak to you,” the cabbie said.”

“The Engineer, himself?”

“Look, I was told to be here at this time and to say the words. I am only paid and know no more.”

Don gets into the cab. Sudden fatigue takes over him. The cab is very warm inside and with his fatigue and warm car sleep starts to take over. He forces himself to stay awake.

“You have sought me and now here I am.”

The room was completely dark and Don tried to make out a shadow of something in the darkness. He could do no such thing because of the consuming dark around him. He knew that face.

“Pinhead”

A demonic laugh rang out in the darkness. The darkness seemed only to increase the volume laughter and the sudden burst of laughter sent Don to his knees in pain by the shear volume of the laughter.
”I have had many names in the eternity that I have been. None have been more insulting than that one.”

“Forgive me sir, but what should I call you.”

“My name is no concern of yours! You have sought me or rather the answer to the riddle.”

“I only wanted to know about the puzzle box.”

“You seek knowledge? To what extent and where does it stop? The box is a question to yet another riddle. We are the answer.”

“The Cenobites.”

“We are the Order of the Gash, The Cenobites and many other names however what we are isn’t what you seek.”

“Like I said I only seek knowledge and the myth intrigues me. I have not solved the box but yet your kind haunts me.”

“You have been told that the box is mere one way to us and the box is an instrument the real key is intent.”

“Oh God…”

“God?” The lead cenobite evilly laughs and an unnatural light fills the room. Don sees seven cenobites standing in the room with the lead cenobite standing in the middle. Three to his left and three to his right. Don remembers them from his drawings. Angelique is standing to the left of the Lead Cenobite and steps forward.

“God is most unsatisfying; all we know is the emancipation of souls, the torment of flesh, the sweet suffering of those that call us.”

“You want God? Scream his name all you want, you will not find him here.” Another female cenobite says.”

“We are demons of the nether realm and we know of no god. We show no mercy because those that seek us want no mercy. They want pleasure and we give it to them but in the manner in which we desire. We are your God and you will not find salvation in us!” The lead cenobite says.

The other four cenobites appear not to be able to speak. Don remembers their names. Chatterer, Butterball, Stitch, and one he has no record of. Don takes mental notes as quickly as he can try to remember all that is said. Some would be frightened by such a group and their manipulated flesh converted in was that no human could survive. He knows no fear and as of yet the Cenobites have left him as he is. He is still on his knees because he didn’t want to provoke them. The Cenobites seem to be studying him as well, thinking of demented ways to make him suffer. The lead Cenobite’s black eyes are still locked with his own eyes as if it is reading his mind.

“Others have escaped you,” Don finally breaks the silence.

“None have.” The lead cenobite says

“One woman did.”

“She is a slave to the Order, and she just doesn’t know it. Or is she does just doesn’t want to accept it”

“She was innocent.”

“Maybe she was at the start of her little tale but no longer. She has brought souls to us only to save her own.”

“A deal with the devil?”

“Of sorts, but those that are brought to us are not innocent and their souls belonged to us way before we actually sought them out.”

“None of the souls we collect are innocent, none are without reasons.” Angelique says.

“Enough of this! Now you will come with us, and taste our pleasures.” The other female Cenobite says.

The Pleasure of Flesh

”Sir! Sir! Wake up! Can you remember your name?”

Don opens his eyes and sees he is on a hospital gurney. He feels the sense of movement and realizes that he is moving into the emergency room. He tries to speak but the words get in the way. His mouth feels like it is filled with cotton. He tries to move his hand up to his mouth to wipe away what feels like a spider web over his mouth. His attempt fails because he is restrained by a back board and his arms are strapped down. Finally, he manages to speak.

“Where am I?”

“Saint Michael, you where found on the side of the highway. A car had hit you and left you to die. Can you feel your legs?”

“No, No I can’t!” Don began to panic.

“Sir, calm down please.” The nurse talking to him said.

“Calm down? I can’t move my fucking legs!”

“Doctor I need the needle now!”

Don felt a sharp prick of a needle and then things started to go blurry. He passes out.

“Patient is asleep.” The nurse says.

“Patient is going to be paralyzed. Schedule his surgery tomorrow. Keep him sedated till then he’s going to be in a lot of pain so it’s better for him. Try to find out whom he is and if he has any family.” The Doctor says.

“Yes, doctor. Police said that he had no ID on him.”

“Do what you can. He’s going to need all the support he can find. At least he’s going to be a paraplegic possibility of quadaplegic. Get a x ray of his spinal cord and make sure he is immobile until his surgery.”

I faded in and out of consciousness over the next twenty-four hours. I couldn’t move and all the company I had was the memory of the Cenobites and my research. In my mind, I went over and over what I had collected in my journal and the new information I had collected in the recent days. I thought of the conversation with the Cenobites. They seemed threatening enough but at the same time enduring. They never made a move to do the things I had heard of them doing. In fact the lead cenobite almost seemed cordial in manner, almost dignified. While the two female Cenobites seemed exact opposites. Angelique was much like Xipe Totec while the other wanted to ream me into. The other four seemed tools in which Totec would give the order and they where the “muscle.” The new one I had never heard of me came to my mind. He was truly ghastly in appearance as if the others where not. His flesh around his mouth was pulled back reveling exposed teeth and his eyes where covered by metallic round circles. A metal apparatus is around his head and looks to be squeezing his skull.

What seemed like hours I waited for someone to come into my room was really minutes. No one came and I was truly alone. I could hear the clock on the wall ticking away the seconds and the hallow sound of the ticking was first hypnotic and then started to slowly drive me insane. I tried to think of anything to take my mind off the constant ticking. The sound was madding and as each tick went by the louder they became. It got to the point where it was the only thing I heard. I had to make it stop and tried to reach for the call button near my bed. My arms would not listen to my begging for them to move. I looked at them intently as if willing them to move but to no avail. I looked around the room and saw a TV. My salvation was a TV and I wanted it to be turned on. The ticking was still in my head. The door was shut and I couldn’t even hear people outside my door. It felt like utter isolation and that damn clock was driving me mad. I tried to call out to the nurse but my throat hurt from none speaking. My mind started to wonder just how long I had been in this bed. I looked for the tell tell signs of humans walking by. I saw no shadows, no sign of life outside my door. I looked to the window for comfort but the curtains where drawn shut. I wanted someone to talk to and I wanted them now. The ticking was loud and it’s sound sounded like my own heart beat after a time. The absence of sound other than the ticking was almost like torture. And I began to wonder if this was a device of the Cenobites. “I hadn’t solved the box.” I told myself they can’t get me if I hadn’t solved the puzzle, could they? The horrible faces of each of the Cenobites ran though my head. “Make it stop!” I cried out to the leader. “I want to die!” My inner voice was the salvation I wanted. I started talking to these demons in my head, hoping that damn ticking would end. Its sound began to drown out as I spoke to the Cenobites. Of course, they weren’t here but having someone to talk to saved my sanity for a bit. I begged them to make it end. To make the madness all go away. I heard someone talking to me.

“Mr. Frost, are you ready for surgery?”

Another human voice shocked me back into reality and if it hadn’t been because I couldn’t move I’m sure I would have jumped at the sudden voice. I looked to my right and standing in the door was a mildly attractive nurse. I mean she could very well be down right gorgeous if she chose to be, but her job was to look pretty. I nodded my head to the nurse. Oh yes I was ready. I was very ready to get out of this room.

Two orderlies came in and pushed down the two side bars that where on the sides of my bed. I guess it was the drugs kicking in because I could have sworn there for a second it was the Chatterer and Butterball Cenobites. Panic took over me and I heard my heart beating wildly. I couldn’t move. I was restrained by wrist bindings.

“It’s ok,” one of the orderlies commanded.

The human voice took the image of the two beefy Cenobites out of my head. They picked me up and placed me on a stretcher that the nurse had brought in to my unknowing. As they wheeled me out of the room I caught a glimpse of mirror in my room. The brief but shocking image of the Cenobites where there as the orderlies past by. This time the Chatterer cenobite looked right at me. Its hallow glassy eyes fixing on my own. I head Pinheads voice in the far distance.

“We have such sights to show you.”

The nurse injected me with I supposed to be a sedative and as my world faded into a misty dream land before I went under I saw Angelique standing over me. Her eyes where sympatric but her mauled figure made the appearance of compassion fade away with the black leather and red flesh. I closed my eyes and felt tears roll down my cheeks. I was very much afraid. I was more afraid than I had ever been in my whole life. The torment of the Cenobites was merely a beginning. I knew what the outcome would be and I accept my demise. I threw my arms around my death angels and welcomed them like a returning loved one.

The powerful drugs I had been given made everything warped point of view. I felt that I hadn’t escaped the Cenobites, but they had taking me into their domain. And I was a willing party of this predicament I had only brought on myself. As Butterball and Chatterer wheeled me out of the room I heard Angelique’s voice.

“All you have left is suffering, sweet suffering.”

I kept telling myself it wasn’t real and didn’t want to open my eyes. I heard cries of humans and the ripping of flesh. The carnage was so real! Even I smelled blood being spilled. The metallic smell made me aroused!

“Open your eyes!” Pinhead screamed.

I didn’t want to open my eyes. I kept them shut like a child would when they became so scared.

“Open your eyes or I will cut them out.” The female cenobite said.

Her unearthly, demonic voice surprised me and I instantly opened them out of fear. All around me I saw chains coming down the ceiling. I was on hells operating table. The smell of rotten flesh and blood filled my nostrils. I couldn’t move because of was strapped down on this table. Now and again huge meat hooks hung down from the chains. Clumps of human flesh where adorned in this new pit of hell. The screams of suffering where deafening. I wanted to shut my eyes again but something made me curious and I had to look around. What I saw I had never seen in any story of the Cenobites. Countless human bodies where being ripped apart by the chains hanging from the ceiling. The sound of their bodies being torn asunder was sick and wet sounding. I then heard moans of pleasure. It was a woman screaming out in pleasure. I looked to my left and saw a woman mounted on a man and fully naked. Then I saw her thrust her hands in the guy’s chest. His death spasm only enhanced the flow of blood. I saw that it was another Cenobite on top of the guy. One I had yet to see but had researched. The Teri Cenobite. She looked at me and smiled as smoke came out of her exposed trachea.

“You ask for this Doctor. This is your hell. Your curiosity has lead you to us and you found us. You will belong to us.” Pinhead said.

The room went dark and for some reason I felt my limbs move. I stood up! I looked around the darkened room and now saw thirteen cenobites. The Order of Gash where all just as imposing as I had read.

“We are losing him!” screamed the doctor.

“Flat line!” A nurse screamed.

“Your choice, doctor.” Pinhead said. “Come with us, know the agony you have sought after or return to the mortal realm.”

“We got a heart beat!”

“We will always be with you. And we have forever to know your flesh. You cannot escape us,” Angelique said.

“Make sure he doesn’t slip under again.”

“Make it stop!” I screamed.

“Oh no, stopping that in which you brought about. Your journey has taken you to the very bows of Hell and now you want to leave?” Angelique questioned.

“We are not a flood gate in which those that seek us can simply shut off.” Pinhead states “We are neither authentic nor counterfeit. We are in the neither realms of everyone’s conscience. Those that seek us give over their souls simply by seeking us. To let you go now will go against the design of the Engineer. We will know your flesh and your suffering will be our pleasure.”

“Don, Don are you with us?”

The voice of something other than the tormenting of the Cenobites was like a slap in the face. The voice was one of my dear students. How she got there I had no clue, but she had pulled me from that nightmare.

“Yes, I am here or rather I think I am.”

“You think? Then where are you.”

Only thing I could think was to say one word. “Hell.”

Couple of months later I left the hospital paralyzed from the waist down. I had wondered out into open traffic one night. I had no remembrance but the reality of it was I couldn’t move my legs. I left alone the myth of the Lament Configuration for a bit but I was in a hell that I could never have phantom. The loss of my lower limbs sent me into depression and I sought a way out. I wanted to die. Oh no, not suicide. That wasn’t a sure thing. I knew the method of certainty. Like an abusive inescapable relationship I wanted the Cenobites.

I had finally found a merchant that had the box and I had purchased it. I made my final preparations and left all my worldly objects to my student that had found me in the hospital. She would benefit from my life’s work, I thought. I looked at the puzzle box in my lap. It’s shiny golden designs seem to call out to be touched. The designs on each side of the box where beautiful and alluring. What did it matter now? I had lost all hope in the world. All I needed to do was go through the rather simple motions of solving the puzzle box. I had found the solution many years before now and I had the movements memorized.

With a steady hand I begin to write my final note to a world I had left behind a long time ago. I write out the words easily because I am convicted this will be my final entry in my twenty years of work. I read over the note and being satisfied I rip out the page of the journal and fold it neatly and place it back in the journal. I flip through my drawings and my writings, my life’s work. I think of destroying the journals, but they are my children and I can not destroy something I created.

With a brief good bye to the world I start solving of the Lament Configuration. And the written process was simple to physically do. The top of the box rose up, turned and then went down in a star like pattern. Blue light came out of the box. The walls around the hotel room I was staying in began to shake. The Cenobites where coming! I sat in my wheelchair patiently awaiting my demise. The walls cracked and then I saw them. Four of them stood in front of me. In front of me were Pinhead, Angelique, Butterball and the Chatterer. I smiled in wicked familiar warm feeling like I was seeing my family.

“We have said all that we need to say.” Pinhead spoke. “You know what must be done. You have solved the box, now you must come with us, taste our pleasures.”

“I am ready.”

Then I felt the sharp sting of hooks in my face. I could feel the pain through my body even in my now dead legs. I felt alive! The pain and pleasure ran through my body. The wheelchair I was in spun backwards and my weight made the pain of the chains and hooks even more exquisite.

The last thing I remember was the sound of my own flesh being torn apart.

New Obsessions

“Hey, Jen, what’s this box for?”

“It was one of my Professors last projects.”

The man opens the box and he finds six, leather bound journals and six photos. He flips through the photos.

“Looks like some sort of puzzle box. Should we just trash this stuff?”

“Let me look, first.”

Jen shakes a journal with a 6 on the cover and a small note falls out.

“A note written by Don Frost.”

Jen begins to read the note:

For those that may think my death of subsequent cause of my accident and my depression after the loss of function of my legs I say this:

My death was something I chose to under take. Some may not understand and other may choose never to understand it. I have chased a dream for 20 years and now I have found them. They are real and I suggest that my work die with me. You have no clue what suffering they can bring to you. No phantoms of myth, these Cenobites have taught me pleasure and pain and left me in a hell in which I can not return from. This is not a suicide note because I did not kill myself. My obsession killed me.

Farewell,

Don Frost.

“Huh, he means that whole puzzle box, demon summoning thing Dr. Frost always talked about?”

“Yea, he was obsessed in that demon story.”

The couple stands together over the open box of Dr. Frosts work. Jen shakes the journal a final time and a smaller piece falls out. The man with her picks up the small piece of paper and smiles.

“It’s an address. Are you up for an adventure?”

END

Author: Chris Alexander

clalexander@crowwings.us