introduction

This is my tale, I, Gabriel. A chronicle of my flight from the mammalian masses, a decision I had anticipated would elevate me to the pinnacle of felicity, yet which plunged me into the abyss of abject terror. From a tender age, I had ever sensed an incongruity between myself and my peers. Quick-witted, invariably at the head of my class, I possessed a facility for languages and a depth of thought that set me apart. The puerile preoccupations of childhood and adolescence held no allure for me. 'As a child, I felt perpetually adrift, an alien in a world that did not comprehend. Whilst my contemporaries were consumed by the banal pursuits of success, fame, and fortune, I yearned for something more profound: intellect, nothing less. I believed that humanity was on the precipice of an intellectual extinction, and that it was incumbent upon me to champion the cause of reason. Thus, I resolved to sever myself from the superficiality and triviality of the masses, from the insidious influence of a culture that celebrated ignorance, and from the company of those who failed to appreciate my unique perspective. Little did I know that this decision would prove to be the catalyst for my descent into the infernal."

Chapter One

Our narrative commences with Gabriel, ensnared upon an icy precipice, encircled by a phalanx of law enforcement officers. Clad in a blood-stained dagger, his visage was contorted into a macabre grin. A shroud of snow veiled his features, while crimson streaks marred his beard and cowl. His gaze was fixed, and his unsettling smile induced a palpable sense of unease among the officers.

> "Halt!" bellowed the detective, Carl. "You have nowhere to run."

> Gabriel responded with a sardonic chuckle, "A paradox indeed, is it not?"

> And with that, he leapt from the precipice, his fate sealed in an abyss of uncertainty. To unravel the enigma of how he arrived at this precipice, we must rewind the clock.

> On the seventh of October, nineteen hundred and ninety-nine, in the southeastern reaches of New Zealand, Gabriel was born into a devout Catholic family. His mother, a rigid and tempestuous woman, forbade him from associating with girls or boys. His father, a high-ranking military officer, was perpetually absent from the domestic sphere.

When Gabriel was fourteen, his mother, Georgina, suffered a debilitating stroke. Forced to seek refuge with his aunt, who was quickly overwhelmed by the strain of his troubled presence, he was consigned at sixteen to a secluded religious boarding school. There, he found it increasingly difficult to reconcile with his peers. Their exuberant displays of juvenile merriment seemed to him a grotesque parody of human experience. They were, in his estimation, mere automata, preoccupied with trivial pursuits and blind to the profound mysteries of the cosmos. All human values, ideals, and desires appeared to him as vacuous and ephemeral. "They are not even true friends," he mused. "Once their games and childish fancies fade, so too will their bonds, as fragile as a candle flame. They will forget each other, even their own names."

Suddenly, a hurled ball struck him in the face, shattering his reverie.

"Perhaps this will enliven you, monster!" jeered a boy named Mason.

Gabriel returned the insult with equal venom. "Your ball is as worthless as you are, without air to inflate it."

With a swift motion, he punctured the sphere, igniting a violent altercation.

After the tumult had subsided, Sister Maria ushered them into a cramped chamber that resembled a dungeon, with guards stationed outside. The religious institution was a harsh place, rife with rumors of missing children. One student had claimed to witness the priest performing sinister rites over the corpse of a girl named Maria Hessenberg, but most dismissed the tale as the ramblings of a senile old man. Nevertheless, the tedium of their confinement forced them into conversation.

"What brought you to this place?" Gabriel inquired of Mason.

"It was horrific," Mason replied.

"I doubt I could be shocked," Gabriel countered. "I've heard worse."

"They tried to keep it from me at first, but I discovered the truth," Mason said. "My father murdered my mother and was imprisoned. My relatives then cast me aside. And here I am."

"You're a cold one," Gabriel remarked. "You can recount such horrors without shedding a tear?"

"It was cruel, certainly, but why should I indulge in sentimentality? Why should we be ashamed to speak of our suffering? There are far darker things afoot in this world."

"You're right," Gabriel agreed with a mirthless chuckle.

And so, the foundations of a peculiar friendship were laid.

 A peculiar bond began to form between Gabriel and Mason. For the first time in his life, Gabriel found himself experiencing genuine camaraderie. The pair spent countless hours engaged in physical exercise and digital diversions, their friendship deepening with each passing day.

One fateful day, a gang of bullies targeted Gabriel. Mason, ever the loyal companion, intervened. Despite being outnumbered, he fought valiantly, but the odds were against him. Witnessing his friend's plight, Gabriel could no longer remain a passive observer. The sisters, having observed the altercation, decreed that all involved should be punished with a month of arduous labor.

Mason, noticing Gabriel's slight frame and apparent disinterest in their shared activities, inquired, "Why so glum, old chap? Aren't you enjoying yourself?"

Gabriel replied, "I prefer to cultivate my mind, but your company is always welcome."

"You'll never achieve your goals if you're physically weak," Mason retorted.

Intrigued, Mason began to explore Gabriel's interests. As night fell, he would often request that Gabriel read to him from the works of H.P. Lovecraft or Agatha Christie. Afterward, they would retire.

At night, the school was haunted by eerie sounds – shrieks, sobs, and unnatural laughter emanating from the surrounding woods. The students, including Gabriel, were perplexed by these disturbances, but the nuns dismissed them as the antics of local delinquents. Mason, however, was unconvinced.

Each morning, the students were roused for chapel. The enigmatic headmaster was always conspicuously absent, his ill health a recurring excuse. During one such service, Gabriel noticed an inverted cross in the room from which Father Christopher had emerged. The door stood ajar, affording a clear view of the blasphemous symbol, accompanied by a crimson numeral: 666.

Later, the students were assigned to tend to the school's garden. By day, it was a picturesque paradise, ablaze with blossoms and laden with fruit trees. But as night fell, the garden transformed into a sinister tableau, dominated by a malevolent white owl that perched atop an apple tree, its gaze fixed upon the dormitory windows. Gabriel found himself dreading bedtime, for the owl's eerie presence filled him with dread.

While working in the garden, Gabriel seized the opportunity to discuss his discovery with Mason.

"Hey, Mason," he began, "did you notice the inverted cross in Father Christopher's room during chapel?"

"That's odd," Mason replied. "I don't think they just put it there for fun. Something strange is going on here. Do you really believe that story about the campers?"

"Not for a moment," Gabriel replied.

After supper, the pair resolved to infiltrate the headmaster's quarters and uncover the truth. The headmaster's office was a detached building, ensconced within the school's grounds. A monstrous canine, resembling a wolf, was chained to a nearby tree, its heavy breathing and blood-stained muzzle filling them with dread. The office door was securely locked, so Gabriel suggested they approach through the window nearest the beast. Mason, however, was terrified.

"Are you mad?" Mason stammered. "I'm not going anywhere near that thing!"

"Come on," Gabriel urged, "no risk, no reward."

"Alright, but you go first," Mason conceded.

They crept towards the canine, their shadows dancing on the moonlit grass. The creature's form was truly wolf-like, its panting audible even from a distance. As they drew closer, they noticed a curious detail: its muzzle was stained with blood.

"I doubt it's been dining on chickens," Gabriel remarked with a sardonic chuckle.

"I'm terrified," Mason admitted, "but we have to check it out."

They circled around the tree, and as they did, Gabriel made a horrifying discovery. Beneath a nearby bush, he found a small, white shoe, caked in blood. He turned to Mason, his voice trembling with fear.

"Mason! Mason! Come here!"

"What is it?" Mason asked, his voice filled with dread.

Mason was about to scream, but Gabriel clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shhh," he hissed. "Let's go to the window."

They clambered through the window and found themselves in the headmaster's office. At first glance, it seemed unremarkable. They searched the drawers, but all were locked, save for one. As Gabriel reached for the drawer, a tremor ran through him.

"What is it?" Mason asked, noticing his friend's agitation.

"Look," Gabriel whispered, his voice trembling.

Mason peered into the drawer. Inside, nestled amongst mundane papers, was a copy of Anton LaVey's "Satanic Bible". A chill ran down his spine.

They fled the room as quickly as they had entered, their hearts pounding. The monstrous canine seemed oblivious to their escape. The following morning, Mason suggested they flee the school. Gabriel readily agreed, and they spent the day acting as normal, careful not to arouse suspicion.

That night, as the students gathered around a bonfire, a girl named Rose began to spin a tale.

"I have a truly terrifying story to tell," she began. "In 1899, this very building was an abandoned ruin, rumored to be haunted. But that's not the worst of it. A man named Henry Tschevinckov, a Russian of sinister repute, came here and established the first Satanic cult in New Zealand. He sought to transform this place into a temple of darkness, but his activities were shrouded in secrecy. The cult attracted the wealthy and the depraved, who would offer up orphaned children as sacrifices. It is said that those with fair skin were selected for a particularly gruesome fate, while the others had their limbs severed and their blood used in a macabre ritual. The children were then discarded, their minds shattered."

In time, Tschevinckov was apprehended and the cult disbanded. Legend has it that the current headmaster, Marcus Williams, is none other than Marcus Tschevinckov's grandson, continuing his grandfather's sinister legacy. He has transformed the school into a breeding ground for evil, a place where the dark arts are practiced in secret."

The children laughed, all except for Gabriel and Mason, who were frozen in disbelief. Rose leaned in and whispered, "If you believe me, meet me after dawn. I have a plan."

Mason, his face pale, nodded.

In the dead of night, they crept to Rose's room. At four in the morning, they knocked three times.

Rose opened the door with a sardonic grin. "Well, well, well, look who it is. What a delightful surprise."

Gabriel replied sternly, "This is no time for games, Rose."

She smiled. "You're right. Let's get to it. The sisters are asleep."

Mason let out a blood-curdling scream.

Rose produced an ancient map. "The back gate is our only way out. The guard takes a break at three, but the real danger is the dog."

Mason looked at Gabriel, his eyes wide with fear. "Did you see that beast? It's not a dog, it's a wolf. And it looks like it's been feeding on something more substantial than bones."

Gabriel forced a smile. "No risk, no reward. We'll make it out of here."

Rose smirked and produced a meat-wrapped parcel. "This," she said, "is laced with a sleeping potion. I took it from the sisters' kitchen. If this works, we'll have our chance."

Their Escape

At precisely 3:15 AM, the trio crept through the creaking corridors of the school. A window overlooking the rear garden revealed the monstrous canine chained to a tree.

"Easy now," Gabriel whispered, his voice tense. "One wrong move and we're dog food."

Rose, her hand trembling, tossed the drugged meat beyond the creature's reach. The beast paused, drawn by the scent, and began to devour the offering.

"Is it working?" Mason asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The creature lifted its head, its eyes glowing red in the darkness. For a moment, the trio was frozen in terror.

Then, with a burst of adrenaline, Gabriel dashed toward the back gate. He fumbled with the lock, his heart pounding in his chest. Finally, the gate creaked open.

"Go!" he urged.

They ran, their feet pounding on the dewy grass. But they were not alone. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed behind them. Mason was grabbed. Gabriel hesitated, but Rose pulled him away.

"We can't help him now," she said.

"Mason!" Gabriel screamed, his voice filled with despair.

In a chamber reeking of blood and brimstone, Mason awoke to find himself surrounded by cloaked figures. A sinister figure stood upon a dais, intoning ancient incantations in a tongue that sounded like a blasphemous perversion of Latin. "This is for you, Lucifer," they chorused, their voices a chilling, discordant harmony. As Mason was bound to a cold, white table, the cultists erupted in raucous laughter.

The room was a macabre tableau, littered with the mutilated corpses of children. In the center of the chamber stood a colossal statue of Baphomet, its monstrous visage casting long, menacing shadows. With cruel efficiency, the cultists began to torment Mason, their blades glinting in the flickering torchlight. His blood was collected in an empty champagne bottle and passed around as a gruesome libation.

Finally, they branded him with a strange symbol, seared into his flesh with a heated iron. The mark was inscribed in an unknown language, perhaps a forgotten tongue called Diplo. As they finished their ritual, Mason was left for dead.

Meanwhile, Gabriel and Rose had fled into the nearby woods. "We must return for Mason tomorrow," Gabriel declared.

Rose nodded, and they built a small fire to ward off the encroaching darkness. As the night wore on, Gabriel wept uncontrollably until exhaustion claimed him. Rose draped her jacket over him and fell asleep beside him.

The following morning, they stole an abandoned car and, after a tense moment of fiddling with the ignition, Rose managed to start it. Clad in dark cloaks, they returned to the school under the cloak of night. They searched high and low, but there was no sign of Mason.

"I know another place," Rose said, her voice trembling slightly. "The cellar. I hope he's not there."

With a heavy heart, they descended into the dank, weed-choked cellar. Using a pair of shears, Rose forced open the rusted hatch. As Gabriel shone his flashlight into the darkness, they were met with a horrifying sight: a chamber filled with the remains of children. Disgust and fear washed over Gabriel, but his thoughts were consumed by the fate of his friend. Rose, however, seemed almost indifferent.

At the far end of the cellar, they found what remained of Mason. His body had been mutilated, leaving only his head. Both Gabriel and Rose were overcome with grief and horror.

Driven by a need for vengeance, they resolved to burn the school to the ground. They filled several containers with gasoline and doused the cellar, the garden, and the headmaster's office. As the flames engulfed the building, they fled.

Gabriel and Rose left the burning school behind, their lives irrevocably changed. On his seventeenth birthday, Gabriel had escaped from hell, vowing never to return.

chapter End