Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Dark Secrets Beneath the Black Forest A WWII Squad Uncovers the SS Occult Facility #12

Episode Date: August 20, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #wwiihorror #occultsecrets #blackforesthorror #nazioccult #supernaturalwar  In this gripping historical horror tale, a WWII Allied squad ventures deep into Germany’s Black Forest only to discover a hidden SS facility shrouded in secrecy. But what lies beneath isn’t just war crimes—it’s something far darker. The squad uncovers occult experiments, forbidden rituals, and ancient horrors resurrected by the Nazis. As reality unravels, they must fight not only for survival but for their sanity. A terrifying mix of war, supernatural evil, and buried nightmares.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, wwiihorror, blackforest, occult, naziexperiments, supernatural, darkrituals, secretfacility, ancientevil, militaryhorror, hauntedbunker, forbiddenknowledge, eldritchhorror, hiddenhistory, psychologicalterror

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I am Liam Smith. I'm a 27-year-old American from Miami, Florida, who enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1942. During the time I was a soldier, I had witnessed how the Allies had landed on the beaches of Normandy during D-Day, how we had pushed the Germans out of France and even the Battle of the Bulge. Now we were pushing deeper into the heart of Germany itself. In the northern parts of the Western Front, the Allies had broken through the Rhyme defenses and since the Germans' defenses in the southern parts near the Rhine seemed scarce, it would only be a matter of time before we would march further. Through everything I endured, I always found comfort with my four closest comrades, Jacob Steinberg, a Jewish-American from Indianapolis, the macho figure

Henry Robinson from Detroit, the shy photographer Drew Scott from New York and the Afro-American military engineer Todd Jackson from New Orleans. From those four, I was closest with Jacob, who's ready to take on anything. Due to the fact that he understands German, he's useful when translating captured German documents for us. Todd was the most recent in our squad, since he transferred from another regiment due to the sheer harassment he got for being Afro-American.

Although in our regiment some whites do whisper things about him, it is in Todd's eyes nothing compared to what he underwent in his previous regiment. Then there are my superiors. First there's Commander Miller, a veteran from World War. World War I. He's known for his brilliant tactics against the enemy, but he never takes up a gun and fight side by side with his soldiers. No one blames him, though. I mean, he's too valuable to lose and also because he was already 60 years old. Then there's Lieutenant Joseph Wilson, a father figure to the squad, willing to risk his own life for the sake of his men. We are all

very loyal to him. And then there's Sergeant Ben Allen, a cold figure who would scowlour his men for the slightest mistakes. Sergeant Allen is disliked by every soldier of the squad and even Commander Miller ordered Wilson to watch Allen's every move or actions. It was April 21st, 1945. It had been raining for days, turning the dirt roads of the German countryside into endless trails of mud. Trees stood like ancient sentinels along our route, their branches reaching over us like skeletal arms. We had pushed through village after village, some abet. others holding pockets of resistance too weak to stand for long. It was clear to all of us the war was drawing to a close.

Hitler was cornered in Berlin, and the Wehrmacht and SS have lost their bite. But even a dying beast can lash out one last time. We were sheltering in a German farmhouse just outside the black forest. Night was falling and a low mist curled around the treetops in the distance. Our squad had taken some much-needed rest, sprawled out on makeshift cots or writing letters home by the flickering lanterns. I sat by a cracked window with Jacob, listening to the distant thunder. The air smelled like wet leaves and burnt oil.

You think they'll surrender soon. I asked, shifting my rifle off my shoulder and resting it against the wall. Jacob shrugged. They have to. They got nothing left but scraps and fanatics. He ran a hand through his brown hair and took. out his cigarette lighter. He didn't light anything. Just flicked it open and closed in a steady rhythm. Then what the hell are they still doing in the black forest? Henry grunted from behind.

He had been polishing his gun. Dan Crout should know it's over. Maybe they're hiding something, Drew piped in from his corner, adjusting the lens on his camera. He was the quietest of us, always watching, always recording. The SS never really played by the rules, did they? Todd snorted softly, fiddling with a busted field radio. If they are, they're doing a hell of a job keeping it to themselves. Jackson, came a sharp bark of Sergeant Allen. Todd stood at attention, snapping a salute.

Yes, sir, I want that radio working before we head out tomorrow. If you screw up like last time, I'll have you running laps through the mud until you your boots melt. Understood, sir. Todd replied in a serious tone. Alan's eyes narrowed, then stomped off to the adjoining room. His bootsteps echoed like gunshots. The man had a face like cracked concrete and a personality to match. Guys a walking ulcer, Henry muttered under his breath. Yeah, well, he's not wrong about the radio, I said. We might need that if anything goes wrong in those woods. Lieutenant Wilson entered not long after, his uniform somehow still crisp despite the weather. His presence changed the air in the room. Much softer and warmer.

Evening, men, he greeted us with a nod. Commander Miller has briefed me on a possible objective. Treat yourself to Vodafone's best deals this Black Friday. Get the Google Pixel 10 for zero Euro when you switch to bill pay or the Google Pixel 9A for only 199 9999 on pay as you go with Ireland's best mobile network 10 years in a row. Vodafone. Together we can.

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no fireworks unless necessary jacob looked up any intel on what we might find sir wilson shook his head slowly only rumors high command thinks it might be a last-ditch weapons depot or s s communications hub Whatever it is, it's hidden. Hidden, Henry repeated, that never means anything good. Wilson offered a rare smile. That's why I'm sending the best men I've got. Don't make me regret it, Robinson. Henry grinned. Wouldn't dream of it, sir.

Wilson turned to me. Smith, you'll take point. You've got the best sense of direction in this squad. Keep them steady. Yes, sir, I said. That night, none of us slept very well. The rain drummed against the roof, and the forest loomed outside like a dark wound in the earth. Something about it made my stomach twist, but I kept that to myself.

We were soldiers. We had seen worse. Or that's what we believed. April 22, 1945, 3.15 a.m. We began our march on 3.15 a.m. The mist clung to the ground like a shroud. and the forest seemed to swallow all sound. We moved in tight formation,

25 men in total. I led with Jacob, Henry, Drew, and Todd at my side. Our boots squelched through the wet earth. It's too damn quiet, Drew whispered. No kidding, Todd replied. Where the hell are the patrols? Gone, Jacob murmured. Or hiding, or dead, Henry added grimly. By 5.30 a.m., we reached the base of a hill that rose like a tumor from the earth,

covered in thick pines and jagged rock. As we rounded the slope, I caught a glimpse of something metallic. Hold up, I whispered. We crept forward, rifles raised. There, embedded in the hillside, was a massive steel door. It looked only a few years old and was pretty much intact. Painted on it in the middle, was a large, black swastika. Sweet Jesus, Drew breathed. Wilson stepped forward, radio crackling. Commander Miller, this is Lieutenant Wilson. We found a steel door embedded in the Western Ridge. It's marked with a swastika. Requesting permission to enter, there was a pause, and then the man's voice came through, rough as gravel. Proceed, Wilson. But be careful. God only knows what those bastards built in there.

We opened the door with crowbars and raw muscle. It slid with a moan that echoed into the void beyond. A pitch-black hallway stretched inward. Our flashlights pierced the dark, revealing smooth steel, industrial walls. Everyone, stay alert, Wilson ordered, his voice barely more than a whisper. We filed inside slowly, our boots clinking on the concrete as we swept our flashlights across the dark corridor ahead. I feel like we're walking into a goddamn grave, Henry muttered, holding his gun up, his finger close to the trigger. You got that right, I said in a low voice. Why would they hide

something this far in? Drew chimed in from behind. Feels like we're going into a tomb. It is a tomb, Jacob added solemnly, pointing to the warning sign painted in German just above the entry point. Zutrit foreboden I gentum der SS occult of Tylen. What the hell does that mean? Todd asked. It means, no entry. Property of the SS occult division. Jacob replied, we stopped. Wilson turned to Jacob, raising an eyebrow. Are you serious, Steinberg? Jacob nodded grimly. Dead serious, sir, we continued deeper. Soon we found a generator room, a small concrete cubicle with a rusting old diesel generator.

Jacob, Todd, look, I pointed to the generator. Jacob and Todd managed to kick it on after some fumbling, flooding the hallway with dim yellow bulbs. They flickered like candlelight in a crypt, but at least we didn't have to use our flashlights anymore. Well, that helps, Henry muttered. That saves us batteries of our flashlights. That's when we saw how empty the place was, too empty. There were no bodies. No signs of a struggle. But the lab equipment, rows of steel tables, racks of vials, chemical burners, German typewriters, even opened briefcases full of documents, was still there. It was like every German in the facility, scientist or guard, had vanished in the middle of the workday. Like they had run. Henry tapped on one of the cabinets, glancing inside. Why would they leave everything behind like this?

The crouts are usually meticulous. Jacob leafed through one of the folders, squinting at the Gothic script. They were making nerve agents. Treat yourself to Vodafone's best deals this Black Friday. Get the Google Pixel 10 for zero euro when you switch to bill pay, or the Google Pixel 9A for only 199 on pay-as-you-go, with Ireland's best mobile network 10 years in a row. Vodafone, together we can.

Subject to availability, new customers on pay as you go or nanny 24 month bill pay plan offer end 6 to January 2026. Each April, the price of your plan will increase by 3050 per month. Best in Test, UMLA 2025. For certification and full terms, see votaphone.com. Colleeny, did you know if your age between 25 and 65? Well, you can get a free HPV cervical check. It's one of the best ways to protect yourself from cervical cancer. And you know what? I actually checked

only recently when mine was due and no exaggeration. It took me less than five minutes. You go online to hse.com. Put in your PPS number, shake in the date of birth. And then they tell you when your next appointment is due. Oh my God, that's unreal. And you can check you on the register on the website so you can phone [phone].

If your test is due today, you can book it today or hsc.e. 4.slash cervical check. Some of this. This isn't conventional stuff. Looks like psychological weapons too. Hallucinogens. Shit that targets the mind.

It says, Project Shatton hairs, Shatton. Heart. Drew asked, peering over. No, Shadow Heart. That's a loose translation. Could mean black core, or core of darkness, depending on context. There's something about merging ancient rituals with modern science. Jacob replied, Don't like the sound of that, Todd muttered. Then we reached it, a big room with the not-furt. banner hanging on a wall. Red, massive, with the black swastika stitched into its center like the eye of some unblinking god. Jacob stepped forward, his jaw tight. He reached into his pocket,

pulling out the lighter he always used for his cigarettes. He lit it and held the flame to the bottom corner of the banner. It caught quickly, curling and blackening like dried skin. Ash fell to the floor, and the swastika crumpled in on itself. That's when we saw it. The banner had been hiding another steel door. This one was thicker, older, no hinges, no handle, just a big circular seal burned into the center like some ancient cliff. I'll never forget the symbol. God, Jacob muttered to himself. There was a large black circle in the center, ringed with three concentric circles and twelve angular lines forming a radio. wheel. S. Runes flanked each side, and above it sat the death's head insignia. Black Sun, Jacob said, almost in a whisper. I heard about it of a dossier from the captured castle of Willsburg, Heinrich Himmler's castle, where the same black symbol is inlaid on one of its floors. This, this is bad, Henry scoffed. So, it's just another Nazi symbol. No, Jacob said, firmer now. This isn't just a bit.

a symbol. It's, a seal, a seal for what? I asked. Jacob didn't answer. He didn't have to. We called Wilson and Alan. They came quickly, their boots slamming against the floor. Alan, Wilson said, secure the perimeter. Steinberg, what is this? It seems like a secret door, sir. We saw it after I had burned the Nazi banner that was covering it. How do we open it? Wilson asked. Jacob shrugged his shoulders. The door had no visible locks, no keyhole. Just the symbol.

But Todd studied the seam along the wall, tapping the metal with a small tool, ears listening carefully. There's a mechanical relay here. If I can hotwire the circuit, I might be able to force it. Are you sure that's wise, Jackson? Wilson asked. Todd stared at him. Sir, nothing about this place is wise, he got to work.

Sparks flew from Todd's toolkit as he connected wires, shorted contacts, and twisted nodes. The door let out a horrible clunk, like a tomb being unsealed. And slowly, it began to slide open. Behind it, nothing but darkness. A long staircase descended into a dark void, the concrete steps slick with condensation, or maybe something else. Eventually, we reached the end of the staircase and saw that where was a long dark hallway in front of us. Jesus, Drew whispered, lifting his camera. He snapped a photo.

The flash briefly illuminated a sign painted on the inner wall, Labo S. Nervorfer autoressior tess reschafleur. Neur Das Blutken UNS. Retten, what does it say, Jacob? Drew asked. It says, LabOS, for authorized SS scientists only. N. Only blood can save us. Jacob replied. An uneasy feeling crept across my spine when Jacob said those words. Eventually, Wilson gave the order. Everyone, we proceed carefully. Steinberg, Scott, Smith, Robinson, Jackson, Alan, you're with me. The rest of the squad will follow, split down the branching

corridors. There's so much rugby on Sports Exter from Sky. They've asked me to read the whole at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter sports extra is jam-packed with rugby. For the first time we've got every Champions Cup match exclusively live, plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup and much more. Thus the URC and all the best European rugby all in the same place. Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on sports extra. Jampack with rugby. Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra. New Sports Extra customers only. Standard for the terms apply.

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Mychild.e. expert advice for every step of pregnancy, baby and toddler health. As we stepped into that hellish descent, I felt the darkness close and around us like a coffin. The air grew thick and humid, smelled of rust, rot, and something far fowler. Even Alan, ever the unflinching bastard, hesitated. You guys feel that? Todd whispered. Yeah, I answered, sweat starting to beat on my neck.

It's like we're not alone. We reached the base after five minutes. A large open antechamber greeted us. Walls lined with crude oil paintings of runes, blood-red streaks, and statues, some human-shaped, others less so. We flashed our lights on the map fixed to the wall. It was a diagram of the facility. Jacob exhaled sharply. God, spit it out, Steinberg, Allen barked quietly. It's a maze. It stretches, my God, Miles underground. Why the hell would they build something so big? Henry asked, voice low.

They weren't just hiding from bombs, I muttered. They were hiding something else in here. Eventually, Wilson ordered the squad to split up and navigate through the facility, but they must always keep their guard up. Sergeant Allen and us five, I, Jacob, Drew, Henry, and Todd took the right corridor. The beam of my flashlight cut through the heavy gloom in thin slices, revealing cold concrete walls covered in condensation. The place stank of mildew, rust, and something beneath it, a coppery, organic undertone

that sat heavy in the back of my throat. The air was thick and unmoving. It didn't just smell stale, it felt dead. Todd walked ahead of me, his flashlight held low, illuminating the ground. Henry was to my left, always a few paces ahead, rifle raised and ready, his usual cocky strut subdued. Drew lingered behind us, nervously glancing at every shadow that flickered along the walls. Jacob, quiet as ever, held his flashlight close to his chest, the trembling light betraying the tension in his fingers. Sergeant Allen brought up the rear. He said nothing,

his face a cold mask, but even he was alert in a way that told me this place had unsettled him too. The hallway was narrow, the concrete walls etched with the signs of rushed construction, scratch marks, tool gouges, even fingernail scrapes in places, like someone had once been dragged. Our boots echoed faintly on the floor, yet somehow it felt like the sounds were swallowed up almost immediately, devoured by the silence. We passed storage rooms and side chambers, each one empty, abandoned, filled with cobwebs and dust-covered crates. Some crates had been smashed open, their contents, glass vials, syringes, rusted surgical tools, scattered across the floors like the remnants of a hurried escape or, something more violent. There was a red smear on one of the

walls at shoulder height. It wasn't paint. We didn't say anything about it. We just kept moving, each man knowing better than to speculate aloud what the hell might have caused it. After about 15 minutes of silent advance, we came upon the first sign of death. Todd froze midstep and raised his hand. We stopped instantly. His flashlight beam held steady on a shape sprawled across the corridor just ahead, at first a mess of black fabric and gray flesh. We approached slowly, weapons raised. I reached it first and crouched. What remained on the ground had once been a man, an SS guard. But whatever had killed him hadn't just killed him.

It had torn through him like a wild animal. His chest cavity was open, ribs snapped and jutting outward like broken branches. His face was frozen in a scream, jaw torn at an unnatural angle. One of his eyes was missing. The other stared directly at me. Jesus, Henry muttered, covering his mouth. What the hell did that? No bomb did this.

Todd said quietly, crouching beside me. This ain't shrapnel or bullets, animals? Drew asked, voice barely above a whisper. Underground? I replied. No. This is something else, but as we stepped further, more bodies followed. Down the corridor, the walls became darker.

Streaks of dried blood painted long vertical lines. We found three more SS guards, each one worse than the last. One had his arms pulled clean off, the tendons still hanging. Another had his throat ripped so deeply that his head was barely hanging on. The last was just a torso, severed midsection, with his spine torn clean out and trailing behind like a grotesque tail. Sergeant Allen broke the silence.

There's so much rugby on Sports Exter from Sky. They've asked me to read the whole lot at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter sports extra is jam-packed with rugby For the first time we've got every Champions Cup match exclusively live Plus action from the URC The Challenge Cup and much more Thus the URC and all the best European rugby

All in the same place Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra Jam packed with rugby Phew, that is a lot of rugby Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months Search Sports Extra New Sports Extra Customer Customer Customers Only Standard Pressing applies After 12 months for the terms apply

Oh Amy My little one I ask myself a million questions every day When will you give me me your first smile. How much sleep do you need? How can I help you and your big brother to get along? At the HSE's Mychild.I.E and in the free MyChaw books, you'll find the answers you need from doctors, midwives, public health nurses, dieticians and lots of other experts. Mychild.combe, expert advice for every step of pregnancy, baby and toddler health from the HSEE.

Keep moving. Eyes up. We obeyed. Nobody argued, not even. Henry. There was no room for ego here, not anymore. Whatever did this, it didn't kill out of necessity. It killed with purpose. The deeper we went, the more it felt like the very walls were watching us. I started to hear things. Soft taps, like nails on steel. Once or twice, I thought I saw movement in the distance, flickers of something just out of the range of my flashlight. My breath came out in puffs, even though the air was damp and warm. I was sweating, but my body felt cold. It was Jacob who voiced what we all thought. This isn't war, he said, this is something else. He was right. We hadn't stumbled into an abandoned lab or some last-ditch Nazi bunker. No. We had

walked straight into something buried for a reason, hidden not just from the Allies, but maybe even from the Nazis themselves. Whatever had happened here, had gone fatally wrong. And something told me we hadn't seen the worst of it yet. The corridor split ahead, branching off into a wide section where doors lined both sides like sealed tombs. They were thick, metal-plated things, most of them shut tight. Each bore a stenciled number and the same insignia, a black sun, overlaid with an angular ruin I didn't recognize. A crude marriage of science and mysticism. It made my skin crawl. The first door we came to was marked Labo E. 4. Henry tried the handle. It gave after a few tugs, opening inward with a soft hiss as the seal broke.

What we found inside stopped us cold. The room was a sterile white that had yellowed with time and decay. Rust spread across the corners of the walls like creeping mold. In the center of the room stood an operating table under a rusted surgical light. Chains hung from the ceiling ending in thick manacles crusted in dried blood. The table wasn't empty. Something skeletal and vaguely human still lay strapped there. It had no eyes. No skin. Most of its lower body was missing, yet the ribcage was unnaturally wide, as if something had tried to grow outward from inside. tubes had been inserted into the remains. I could almost swear it was moving, but when I blinked, it was still.

Jacob spoke. That's not, anatomy, he murmured. Human anatomy doesn't look like that. We didn't linger. One room was horror enough. But there were more. In Labo E5, we found a wall covered with photos pinned in neat rows. Each photo depicting a different stage of what could only be described.

as ritual surgery. Men, women, even children lay on gurneys with symbols carved into their flesh. Some had their skulls partially removed, exposing their brains while they were still alive, based on the annotations written in German across the photos. Drew turned away and vomited heavily. I couldn't blame him. Even Sergeant Allen looked paler than usual. The shelves in that room were stocked with glass jars.

Inside floated, twisted, malformed specimens, organs with too many chambers, a three-eyed fetus, a shriveled head with no mouth but two twitching, gray eyelids. On the far wall, diagrams were drawn on a blackboard in chalk. Not anatomical diagrams, but arcane ones. Circles, lines intersected with runes and numbers. Pentagrams overlaid with mathematical equations. Something bridging the gap between. rituals and science. This, this is theology and thermodynamics smashed together,

Jacob muttered as he examined them. This isn't just Nazi science. This is a cult engineering. In Lab O.E.7, we found a pit. The room was larger than the others, dimly lit by the flicker of half-functioning emergency lights. In the center, a square hatch had been left open, leading into a deep concrete shaft. Around it were strange restraints, built into the floor, which were meant to hold something large. On the walls were markings burned into the concrete itself, charred and black. Symbols, words in Latin, runes and what looked like inokian script. Henry leaned over the pit, shining his flashlight down. God, he whispered. There are scratches on the inside. Like something tried to climb out,

I didn't want to look but I did anyway. He was right. Claw marks. dozens of them sun deep enough to crack stone I didn't see the bottom it felt more like a throat than a shaft There's so much rugby on sports extra from Sky They've asked me to read the whole lad at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end

Here goes This winter sports extra is jampacked with rugby For the first time we've got every Champions Cup match exclusively live Plus action from the URC The Challenge Cup and much more Thus the URC and all the best European Rugby All in the same place Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before

On Sports Extra jampack with rugby Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra. New Sports Extra customers only. Standard-pressing applies after 12 months for the terms apply. Oh, Amy, my little one. I ask myself a million questions every day.

When will you give me your first smile? How much sleep do you need? How can I help you and your big brother to get along? At the HSE's Mychild.I.E and in the free MyChaw books, you'll find the answers you need from doctors, midwives, public health nurses, dieticians and lots of other experts. MyChile.aE.E. expert advice for every step of pregnancy, baby and toddler health. From the HSEE.

Like the bunker itself had swallowed something whole. We moved on, chamber after chamber. Labo E. 9 had bookshelves, rows of them, filled with handbound volumes in leather covers that looked suspiciously like skin. Most were written in Latin, but a few were unrecognizable symbols that shimmered faintly when the flashlight passed over them. On one table lay a dissected corpse mid-autopsy, with detailed notes on the table beside it. I picked them up. The handwriting was clean.

The words described something born without a soul, engineered to host something else, D-I-N-Gafas. What does, E-I-N-Gafas mean, Jacob? I asked. A vessel, Jacob replied, and I believe, a human vessel. It doesn't make any sense, Drew whispered behind me. How the hell did they get this far underground? This is more than just war. This is, a whole belief system. Jacob didn't respond to Drew. He was scanning the symbols on the walls with an intensity one didn't like. We kept going. Labo E. 11. Labo E. 13. Each more

than the last. One was filled with audio reels and tape machines. Jacob played one briefly. A woman screaming, over and over, in perfect rhythm. Then silence. Then chanting, deep, guttural and inhuman. In another, we found cots and beds for the scientists who worked here. Some had been torn apart from the inside. Blood on the walls spelled something in jagged German, it still lives. no one said a word after that. We just moved. Quieter. slower. By the time we reached the far end of the corridor, the rooms had stopped being labeled with numbers. Just symbols now. Scrawled in charcoal, burned into the metal. There was one final door, larger than the rest. Reinforced. The kind of door used to seal something in, or out. Jacob stepped forward.

This is where the experiments ended, he said. Or began. Todd looked at him sharply. What do you mean? He didn't answer. Instead, he pressed a hand against the door, as if feeling for something beyond. Alan checked his weapon. We're going in.

None of us were ready for what waited beyond. But we opened it anyway. The final door groaned as it opened. Beyond it was not just another room, it was a hall. The ceiling vaulted high overhead, lost in darkness. Metal catwalk zigzagged above, and the air was thick with a smell like rotting copper and wet iron. The walls pulsed with a heat that didn't come from machinery or light.

It felt alive. We entered cautiously, our weapons raised. The lights here flickered more steadily than elsewhere. Somehow, this part of LabOS had retained power. Spotlights embedded in the ceiling illuminated. specific stations, workbenches, ritual circles, medical operating areas, and glass tanks along the far wall filled with murky fluid. In the center stood a massive stone slab, surrounded by concentric circles carved into the floor, overlapping geometric designs, half occult, half mechanical.

Rooms wove through with strange technical annotations, symbols next to voltage values, sigils mapped to wave frequencies, runes paired with what looked like radio schematics. and at the heart of it all, on a pedestal of bone-white marble, lay a black leather notebook. Jacob was drawn to it immediately. He didn't hesitate, picked it up, slowly peeled back the front cover, and began to read aloud. His voice was low, his brow furrowed and his eyes darting across the pages. It's written by someone named Dr. Magnus Erhard Weiss. S. S. Ober Sturmferr.

Head a cult scientist of Division Annenurb, Einheit Schwartz Crone, Unit Black Crown. He swallowed. It's half-diary, half-formula compendium. We gathered around as he read the following out loud to us. Our experiments in vibrational transfusion have surpassed the limitations of human biology. The host bodies respond best when laced with bronze and quartz matrices, with the runes etched directly into the nervous system allow for increased resonance with the lower frequencies. This is the key, the human soul must be severed and replaced with directional energy, artificial consciousness guided by ritual.

Jacob's voice shook slightly and turned the page. Subject 23 achieved partial synchronization. It remained alive after removal of all vital organs, save the brain and spinal stem. When placed inside the third seal, it spoke a word in a language none of us knew, and every light in the chamber died at once. That was the first time we realized we were dealing not with madness, but with contact. I stared at Jacob and asked scared, contact with what? Jacob looked up. His face was pale.

It doesn't name itself. It came when the veil was torn through magneto-spiritual induction. Using blood as conductive medium and sound as direction. It calls from beneath the skin of the world. It needs vessels. Blood amplifies the resonance. He paused again. Then, more pages. The final subject, Gautregerainz, God Carrier 1, was prepared from conception. Born in darkness. Fet on ash and marrow. Carved with 88 runes before its first breath. We bound it in the ninth chamber.

It opened its eyes, and we heard the choir through steel. Not voices. Screams. Screams. in reverse, no one spoke. Jacob turned to the last few entries, his hands shaking. The beast grows restless. No containment is holding. It speaks now in our dreams, infecting the scientists. One tried to open the door for it. We shot him. It laughed in our heads. It has no hunger for food. Only blood. Endless, violent blood. The more it drank. the more it remembers. Its name is not meant for mouths. But it remembers now, Jacob hesitated and turned to the last page. His eyes widened. It's, written in a different hand, he murmured. The script is erratic. Like it was scrawled in panic, he read it slowly. It's out. We failed.

The black crown is shattered. The blood calls to it. The beast, it can't be killed. It feeds. It feeds endlessly. Please, if you find this, for the love of God, Jacob stopped. He looked down at the very bottom of the page. His voice dropped to a whisper as he translated the final line, written in smeared German, still wet with flakes of dried blood. Lauf E. Sist knock here. Run. It is still here. Jacob muttered softly. No one breathed. Somewhere, deep in the corridor behind us, we heard some metallic shift. Then the faint, unmistakable sound of wet footsteps.

Not shoes. Not boots. Bear. Heavy. As if whatever made them had more than two legs. Lights out. Weapons ready. No sound.

Alan said in a hoarse whisper, We turned off our flashlights. The notebook stayed in Jacob's hand. In that moment, all we heard was breathing. Not human, not animal. It was deep, thick with phlegm and fluid, gurgling faintly like air rising through blood. It echoed through the darkened corridor behind us. Alan held up a fist, signaling silence. We crouched low, flashlights off, weapons aimed toward the doorway. The distant red emergency light above us blinked every few seconds, bathing the room in a hellish pulse. In each flash, shadows twisted. Thermal, whispered Henry, sliding his scope over one eye. He stopped. Then, he said quietly,

nothing. It's just cold. Jacob looked at him. How can it be cold and breathing? That's when the sound of breathing changed, it deepened, grew slower. Not a pattern of respiration, but mimicry. had heard us breathing. It was trying to copy it. A scraping sound echoed through the hall, like claws raking concrete. Then silence. We waited. One minute. Two. Then, boom. The entire laboratory shook. The door we had come through slammed shut, by itself. Alan spoke low and fast at the same time, we're not waiting to be picked off. We clear this lab and find another exit. Anything moves that's not one of us, shoot, we moved. Swift and quiet through the vast chamber, stepping around shattered tanks, overturned ritual equipment, crushed steel scaffolding.

We passed a room with observation glass. It had been smashed from the inside. Inside it, a single operating chair stood bolted to the ground, torn restraints dangling from the armrests. Blood painted the walls in clawed swipes. Symbols carved into the floor glowed faintly, reacting to our presence, just barely, as if still alive, or remembering what had been done here. Smells like burnt teeth, muttered Todd, covering his nose. Jacob turned to him. That's ozone and calcium. When they fused the bone, it's what they used to anchor the soul to the host. Henry gave him a look. You sound like you're starting to believe this shit. Jacob didn't respond. We moved further. Down one hallway, we saw signs in Stensel Gothic. Versick subject 1 to 12,

test subjects 1 to 12. Schlafframdur Wertriger, dormitories of the host carriers. Camer 9, Gottlach erincheless, Chamber 9, Divine Containment. We stopped. That last sign was torn, warped. The paint looked like it had been smeared by a hand soaked in viscera. Underneath someone had carved in German, it is not divine. It is hunger. This place looks like it has been shut down for years now, Sergeant Allen whispered to himself, how is there fresh blood on the walls? Then, the lights went out completely. Total darkness swallowed us. Drew clicked on his flashlight. The beam landed on a wall, then swept across a stretch of corridor and froze. Something had moved.

He saw a limb, no, a shape, disappear around a corner. Tall. Wrong. It had bent to fit the hallway ceiling. Its skin had looked wet, pale, and scarred with blackened sigils. No eyes, but a face. A long, lipless jaw. And something like horns or perhaps branches, fused to its skull. Did it, did it have ribs on the outside? Henry muttered. But we didn't. answer. We ran. It followed. Not with the chaos of an animal. This thing stalked. It wanted us to move and split up. Jacob's notebook pages fluttered as we fled through dark corridors. Behind us, we heard metal twist, doors groan, and then screams, faint, far away. We turned into a narrower hallway, marked only by a number burned into the wall, nine. The divine content. The divine content.

chamber. It stood ahead, a vault-like circular door, three inches thick, torn open from within. The walls bore claw marks but not scratched, carved with purpose. Words. Sentences All in Latin, German, even in symbols we couldn't place. At the center of the chamber was a black circle stained with a thick crust of dried blood. Chains hung from the ceiling, broken. Rooms beneath them had been cracked, scratched out by something trapped inside. We were standing in a cage. Jacob raised the notebook again. This is where it was born. This is where they fed it. Rituals involving the blood of political prisoners. Forced trauma resonance. Repetition of murder to increase the vessel's saturation. Each death made it stronger.

They wanted to create a living art for something beyond understanding. A contentious. A contentious. A for something older than myth. Todd's voice was hoarse. Is it still in here? Jacob turned a page. No, he said. It doesn't stay in any one place. It moves through the lab. Through the ruins, and blood, something whispered. Not allowed. Inside us. Drew dropped to his knees, screaming and clutching his head. His eyes rolled back. And in the air, we smell wrought. Flesh that had never known burial. We aimed our weapons. A shape loomed in the dark. Tall. Silent. Watching. Then it moved. The moment the shape moved was like the world itself shuddered. It was impossibly tall, nearly touching the ceiling, but it didn't walk. It glided,

sliding over the cold concrete floor with a silence that gave a chill across my spine. It skimpsed The skin looked stretched tight over bones that twisted in unnatural angles, pale like dead wax, marked with dark sigils that pulsed faintly in the dim light. What I first thought were horns were more like branches, crooked and sharp, weaving out from its skull like a twisted crown. Its face, if you can call it that, was a nightmarish void, a hollow with empty sockets, but somehow, I could feel it watching me. I swallowed hard and steadied my gun.

Hold your fire until it moves closer, but Henry didn't wait. He fired a burst from his Thompson. The bullets tore through the creature's side with a sickening wet crack, but it barely flinched. Instead, it turned toward him, and I swear, I saw a grin crack open the void where its mouth should have been. A sound like tearing cloth and something wet, and alive, came from it. Drew screamed again, clutching his head, as if the creature's presence. was invading his mind. Get it off me.

Get it off me, he cried, staggering back into the wall. I grabbed him before he fell. Drew. Snap out of it. Todd's voice rang out. It's not just physical. This thing's inside our heads. Alan barked orders, trying to keep us together, but the creature was relentless.

It lunged at Alan, who barely dodged. The air smelled of sulfur and decay. decay. Jacob, shaking but focused, whispered, it's feeding off our fear. The rituals, the blood sacrifices were meant to awaken it, but they never controlled it. Now, it hunts. Suddenly, the creature's shadow stretched across the room, swallowing the flickering lights. In that darkness, I heard it speak, not with words, but a voice echoing in my mind, you will become the sacrifice. We opened fire together. Bullets tore through the but it was like trying to stop a storm with stones. The creature's limbs twisted and bent as it

dodged, closing in on Henry. Before we could even react, the beast snapped Henry into its maw, or whatever it was. In a flash of time, we all saw Henry's body being snapped in two, with his body parts falling on the concrete floor and blood spewing out of it. Then, it charged at full speed at Todd. Just as it reached out, however, Todd shoved a make of the making of the shift charge from his pack into the creature's side and triggered it. The explosion shattered the chamber. Flames licked the walls, smoke thick and acrid filling the air. The creature screamed, a horrific, guttural sound like nails on a chalkboard mixed with the roar of a dying beast. It staggered, wound smoking and seeping dark icor. But it was far from dead. Just then, we heard

more gunshots from a left hall. It was Wilson firing at the creature's empty eye sockets. Wilson, yelled Sergeant Allen. Where's the rest of the squad? Dead. Wilson replied, This creature took them all. Even my group got mauled by it after I investigated a chamber alone. The creature, however, was beginning to regain its composure and locked its gaze onto Wilson. Wilson loaded another magazine and fired directly into the creature's face, into the void where eyes should have been. Go. Now, he ordered.

We all did as he ordered us to. Me and Jacob dragged Drew, who was still screaming, whilst Todd led the way forward. Sergeant Allen looked behind towards his superior colleague as the creature closed in on Wilson. Then, we heard a loud scream. The creature had Wilson into its maw, void,

whatever it was. Go. Wilson screamed. one last time as he pulled out his dagger and stabbed the creature's right eye sock with all his might. We ran, and we heard the screaming of both Wilson and the beast echoing through the hallways of the maze. I don't know how long we ran through those hallways with the walls edged in messages, but we eventually made it back to the staircase we had descended earlier. The creature hadn't followed us, and we eventually made it back to the steel door with the

black sun on it. Wilson's sacrifice had saved us. Well, only, only the one of the same. We'll only five of the entire squad. When we got out of the facility as a whole, we entered the broad daylight. The sun was shining through the forest, and we could even hear birds sing happily. But that could not cheer us up from what we had just witnessed in that underground maze. Later, we reported to Commander Miller of what we had seen, the upper facility, the staircase that led to a more secret of one below, the rooms we had seen and most of all, the creature. had a look of concern on his face when we told him, but due to the fact that five of us told the same thing, he believed us. Jacob even handed over the diary he had taken from the largest

room and translated everything to Miller. Miller asked if Drew had somehow taken photos of the beast, but Drew was distruck by fear and shock, since he couldn't get the voices out of his head from what the beast said earlier. Drew even had to be transferred to a field hospital to recover mentally. It wasn't long before the entire Regiment heard about what had happened. They laughed at it and even said that we had gone mad in the first place. Especially Drew, who was screaming in his sleep, to the annoyance of other injured soldiers. Commander Miller did order that the inside of the facility had to be destroyed. It was only the first hallway that they had blown up but that was enough to make parts of the

hill crumble and the stone rubble covering anything that was once an entrance. When the war in Europe had ended, we were all given a medal for our heroic military actions. On September 7, 1945, five days after the Japanese had capitulated, we were transferred from Europe back to the U.S. via ship. Although all the men on board celebrated their victory, we kept ourselves confined in our cabin that we shared on the ship. After I came back to the U.S., I returned to my home in Miami. I eventually moved to the state of South Dakota because of the new job I gained as a businessman. On my work, I met a woman named Lisa and before we knew it, we fell in love, got married and had two children named Elias in 1949 and Alice in 195. Still, I sometimes had

nightmares about what had happened back on April 22, 1945, in that cursed facility. But even that faded over the course of time. It is April 22, 1975, and I was sipping my coffee as I read the newspaper. What I read on the fifth page shocked me to my core. The West German government found a document signed by Himmler in 1935, where he and Hitler agreed to build a secret underground occult research facility in the black forest. They were now removing the stone rubble, but the workers tell of how they somehow smell blood and that in their sleep, they hear voices.