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Death is a communist - Part 8/13 – Eastern Switzerland Lupe Burger Kreuz Lupe

Death is a communist - Part 8/13 – Eastern Switzerland Lupe Burger Kreuz Lupe

Death is a communist - Part 8/13 – Eastern Switzerland Lupe Burger Kreuz Lupe

The book can be ordered from the publisher or Orell Füssli.

All chapters are published on our website under the menu item "Journal" under the heading "serialized novel".

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Chapter 8

"It really isn't necessary," Hofstetter said. "I haven't eaten guinea pigs since I was a kid."

Ms. Flores was still shaking her arms, the bone chain rattling.

«Purification!» she shrieked.

Brenner took Hofstetter aside.

"Don't worry," he said. "You will not feel any pain. The guinea pig is there to clean you."

«You mean the guinea pig will lick me clean?»

No, said Brenner, it was a ceremony in which the evil energies in Hofstetter's soul were transferred to the guinea pig, as were physical illnesses.

«The guinea pig takes over my diseases so that I can be healthy and normal? Poor animal."

Brenner looked at the white-brown-black spotted creature sniffing his hands unsuspectingly.

«Sometimes they die when the purified one carries within himself much evil and sickness. Sometimes they survive."

"It really isn't necessary," repeated Hofstetter.

Mr. Flores had already caught the animal. He held it in the air.

«Purification!»

Everyone except Hofstetter mumbled the word, then Hofstetter's hand was grabbed so he could touch the guinea pig.

«Sueno oscuro!» snapped Mrs. Flores. "Sangre en las profundidades del tiempo."

Hofstetter fight back, braced himself against the weight of this madness. He braced himself until he felt something. What was like an energy going through his body. A bit like the time he had tried to use the hair dryer with wet fingers after the shower. Only this was more powerful, somehow deeper than the current from the socket. It was as if some kind of sun were stroking through him from somewhere, with painless rays that burned away everything dark and poisonous in him.

Hofstetter shuddered, trembled, heard the bone chain rattling again. Then there was silence and arms touched him, catching him because he had lost his balance.

«Respirar!» exclaimed Mrs. Flores.

She pointed with her index finger at the guinea pig, which had meanwhile been placed on the table in front of the clay jug.

The animal did not move.

«Despierta!»

The guinea pig - a few seconds of silence - began to stir. It woke up, turning its head, sniffing. Ms. Flores and the others looked surprised.

"Very nice," said Brenner. “They had little that was sick or broken in them. Your guinea pig survived."

«But in elementary school I was ill a lot and as an adult I was often broken.»

Nevertheless, Ms. Flores was beaming.

«Alma buena!»

The others got friendlier too, even Nathalie's ex.

"Be thankful," he said, holding out his hand. "My name is Roland, by the way."

"Okay, thanks."

Ms. Flores showed Hofstetter the other guinea pigs on the floor next to the laundry basket. They were dead, probably after the rest of the group used them for soul cleansing. Hofstetter looked at her poor, lackluster fur.

«They probably had a heart attack. Can we save Nathalie and the professor now?"

"First we have to drink," Brenner explained.

He pointed to the clay jug.

«Drink?»

«The ‘Calea tremenda’. She will give us strength."

"Si!" Ms. Flores nodded. «Gran corazon de coraje.»

Brenner translated: a magic drink for «big hearts with big courage». As legend would have it, the Aztecs used such a brew to motivate their warriors.

Hofstetter wanted to do without such a motivation, as he clarified. He preferred to watch the others take their drinking bowls. First the Flores couple, then Nathalie's ex - Roland - the Mercedes driver and burner.

«Come on, Hofstetter. You'll need it, I'm sure."

Hofstetter didn't want to. "I'm always the only one who throws up on things like this, and then the others laugh."

«No, the 'Calea tremenda' is healthy. It gives strength from the core of the soul. Light against the demons who want to stop you on the way to Nathalie."

«To Nathalie?»

«Yes. In addition, the 'Calea tremenda' provides strong fountains in the golden garden of fertility.»

«Powerful fountains?»

«Very strong. high potency."

Okay, Hofstetter was willing to try a little sip. The bowl was handed to him. The drink was bluish, lukewarm and tasted of mint, plants and - blackberries?

Hofstetter took a second sip. Yes, blackberry and something sweeter, maybe elderberry. With the third sip it was clear: Elderberry and other berries. And herbs.

"Not bad," he said.

He emptied the bowl. The others waited. None of them seemed in a hurry, or found a reason to yell something Spanish in the air, rattling necklaces. No, it was quiet now, and Hofstetter could feel the whole room relaxing.

«I have a feeling,» he said, «the room is relaxing. Relax."

Brenner nodded. «The tension goes, the 'Calea tremenda' comes. After about ten minutes, usually."

"Ten?"

«When we all feel it, it's time. Then we'll leave. Then we can withstand the fiery eyes of the goddess."

Death is a Communist - Part 8 /13 – Eastern Switzerland Lupe Burger Kreuz Lupe

«And what do we do before we leave?»

"Wait."

Hofstetter usually wasn't the type to wait, especially since he didn't have a smartphone, which he still missed by the way, probably grabbed by Vonnegut's people.

"Reposo," whispered Ms. Flores. "Tranquillo."

Yes, the space around her was definitely undergoing a transformation. Hofstetter felt it creeping through the cracks and holes, floating in like an invisible mist. A mist of calm, of peace.

«Wonderful,» whispered Roland beside him.

«Hm,» grunted the Mercedes driver.

Mrs. Flores stared at the table, at the drinking bowls and the jug, next to her Mr. Flores, speechless, with small, shining eyes.

"Since we still have some time," Hofstetter began, "why doesn't someone tell me about this goddess? What's it called again: Croatia shoes?"

«Coatlicue,» corrected Brenner.

«I say yes. Why is she so dangerous? Why must we withstand their eyes of fire?"

«La diosa,» said Ms. Flores.

She pulled something out of the pocket of her plaid skirt in a flash, as if she had been waiting for it. It looked like one of those holy pictures that crazy pious people like to carry with them.

On this little picture there was a photo, on the photo a statue of an Aztec god. A statue of black basalt, Brenner explained, with a skirt of serpent bodies and a collar of bloody sinew, with human hearts hanging from it. And severed hands.

"Very nice," said Hofstetter.

The goddess gives life and brings death, explained Brenner. Coatlicue's feet and hands are often depicted as claws to show that she digs graves, ie burying those who turned against life and creation.

"That's right." Hofstetter felt more and more relaxed. 'Somehow I understand the goddess. Creatures who kill and throw away and make as much noise as we do, why shouldn't she bury us, shoveling over into the dust of the past, right?"

"No," Roland objected. “Coatlicue is merciful too. She wears the torn-out hearts around her neck on a necklace not just to scare us off, but to show us how important it is to have the right heart."

"Without a doubt."

"You'll understand quickly, Hofstetter."

"I know." Hofstetter felt how pleasantly warm the peace was beginning to rest in him. "It's really nice what you just said."

"Dispuesto," said Ms. Flores.

Mr. Flores hugged and kissed his wife.

«We are now showing you the way, my Amor y yo. Then we are waiting for you here, preparing for the celebraction de la Victoria.»

Brenner thanked the couple before addressing the others: "Gentlemen, it's an honor to go into battle with you."

The others nodded.

"I have to admit," Hofstetter said. “I now see my kidnapping more positively. I have a good feeling about it."

They left the room. With every step, Hofstetter felt the warm peace follow them, an invisible shadow of beautiful, soft power.

They went to a chamber next to the kitchen. There on a table were submachine guns, handguns, knives and other things that Hofstetter could not identify.

"I thank the Flores couple and their ancestors," said Brenner. «For all the services you have given us during this time and in the times to come. Hijos de la luz!»

Everyone bowed. Hofstetter also bowed because it was so beautiful.

«Everything we have prepared,» said Mr. Flores.

His wife seemed to shed a tear from emotion, or she had something in her eye that bothered her.

"I see the 'Ah-Puch' is ready too," said Brenner.

He looked at a spot to the right of the table. There was a cylindrical container, maybe 40 centimeters high. It was made of glass, encased in a metal frame, illuminated by a mysteriously circling green liquid.

"What is that glowing, mysteriously circling liquid?" Hofstetter wanted to know.

Roland explained it to him: it was the power of the "Ah-Puch" that they had to take with them to the temple of the ritual. The power they would unleash in an emergency.

«Release?»

«When we fail. If we don't manage to save the professor."

"And Nathalie."

«And Nathalie. Unfortunately, it is possible that we fail. We're outnumbered. Vonnegut's team is highly trained and we don't know which side the goddess will side with."

"Aha."

Hofstetter's relaxation was disturbed for a moment.

«If we fail, we release the luminous, mysteriously circling liquid.»

The others nodded.

"And what does the glowing, mysteriously circling liquid do when we release it?"

"Muerte," replied Ms. Flores.

«Dead?» Hofstetter turned to Brenner. "She's exaggerating, isn't she?"

«No. If we fail, the 'Ah-Puch' will overwhelm the temple with the green power."

«And we're running off to save ourselves?»

«If we can, yes. If we can't, no."

Hofstetter looked at the cylindrical container in which the green power flowed and shimmered.

The others approached the table and chose their weapon: burners, two submachine guns, a knife and four objects that looked like hand grenades. The Mercedes driver did the same, and Roland tucked a handgun in his belt and two more in his pants pockets.

«I will wear the 'Ah-Puch' with a shoulder strap to take to the temple. I can't strap on a submachine gun. Will you carry one for me?"

"Gladly," replied Hofstetter.

He eyed the rest of the guns on the table.

"That's a Remington 1911," said Brenner. “This is a Walther PPQ. Here the Kalashnikovs. Do you know these weapons?"

"No," Hofstetter replied. "But I know all the films with Bruce Willis."

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