The Cabal - Chapter 5

The Cabal - Chapter 5 The Cabal - Chapter 5

Status: In Progress

Genre: Mystery and Crime


Status: In Progress

Genre: Mystery and Crime


The Annunaki and their purpose on Earth is uncovered ...


The Annunaki and their purpose on Earth is uncovered ...

Chapter5 (v.1) - Chapter 5

Author Chapter Note

The plot thickens ...

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: August 03, 2020

Reads: 45

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: August 03, 2020





Chapter 5:


I received a message from a well-known archaeologist by the name of Doctor Raymond Weiss. He was the dean of the faculty at the University of Johannesburg, and had based his whole thesis on new developments in the theory of evolution. The subject had always fascinated me, mainly because it was ongoing. Every new discovery forced scientists to re-evaluate their thinking, and although there was more than sufficient evidence to convince all but the most dogmatic of minds that the process took place, the mechanics thereof as well as the details were open to change.


What he could contribute to my already complicated investigation remained to be seen, but I looked forward to meeting him nonetheless. We met in his office, and he asked me how things were going. Not knowing how much he actually knew, I gave him a broad outline of the progress, and he seemed to be satisfied with that.


He then began to tell me about a document written in ancient times by one Hermes Trismegistus. It was thought to have been recorded as a conversation or lecture given to one of his fellow philosophers by the name of Aesculapius. Much of what was said concerned the fall of Egypt and their abandoning their old faith, but there was one part that stood out from the rest. Like the so-called Anunnaki Manifesto, it spoke of the eventual enslavement of mankind.


This is what it said: ‘... Darkness will be preferred to light, and death will be thought more profitable than life; no one will raise his eyes to heaven; the pious will be deemed insane, and the impious wise; the madman will be thought a brave man, and the wicked will be esteemed as good. As to the soul, and the belief that it is immortal by nature, or may hope to attain to immortality, as I have taught you, all this they will mock at, and will even persuade themselves that it is false. No word of reverence or piety, no utterance worthy of heaven and of the gods of heaven, will be heard or believed.


And so the gods will depart from mankind, a grievous thing! And only evil angels will remain, who will mingle with men, and drive the poor wretches by main force into all manner of reckless crime, into wars, and robberies, and frauds, and all things hostile to the nature of the soul. Then will the earth no longer stand unshaken, and the sea will bear no ships; heaven will not support the stars in their orbits, nor will the stars pursue their constant course in heaven; all voices of the gods will of necessity be silenced and dumb; the fruits of the earth will rot; the soil will turn barren, and the very air will sicken in sullen stagnation. After this manner will old age come upon the world. Religion will be no more; all things will be disordered and awry; all good will disappear ...’

This seemed to reflect so much of the Manifesto that it may as well have been penned by the same individual, and that despite the fact that they were written millennia apart. Although he had my attention, I needed more evidence. He first showed me an old picture of a strange anomaly that was discovered in the Baltic Sea. It appeared to have been manufactured, even though it was some ninety metres under the sea. It seemed as though it had crash-landed, as there was a three hundred metre trail behind it where the seabed had been disrupted. What was even more astounding to me was the age: Scientists who researched the ship estimated that it was at least 40000 years old! It reminded me of a spaceship I had once seen in an old science fiction film.





The second one was less convincing, mainly because of its size. The previous ‘ship’ was about sixty to eighty metres in diameter. This one was barely big enough to fit a man inside, although it was pointed out that this might have only been part of a much larger craft, a theory that made it more feasible. It was found in an old quarry in Volgograd, Russia.

The next clip he showed me totally blew me away! It was as though someone had taken a snapshot of the foetus we had found next to the old lab. Then he informed me that it was found near the Russian village of Kyshtym in the mid 1900s. Although it was officially said that the remains were that of a badly deformed infant, others pointed out that there were striking differences in the child’s DNA, something that had not been discovered when it was originally found. The ensuing debate has never been fully resolved.

Next was a photo that I knew well. It was of the skull found in Mexico that was dubbed the ‘Star-child Skull’. Once again skeptics claimed that the child to whom the skull belonged probably suffered from Progeria, a disease that causes premature ageing, whereas others showed that the individual would have still been too young to already show such advanced signs. Also, even though there were similarities, there were much greater differences, especially with regards to the size of the orbits - the part of the skull into which the eyes fit - which was much larger than normal.

Lastly he showed me a set of three pictures, the first being from Peru - an area called Cusco, the next from somewhere in Russia, and the third of an Egyptian bust - a statue of the head and shoulders. All three of them had one thing in common: The back of the skulls were almost unnaturally elongated. It was common knowledge that the practise of cranial deformation was an ancient custom, and was particular to South America - more specifically the ancient tribes that lived in Peru itself. But it was highly unlikely that these people had any contact with anyone in Russia, let alone ancient Egypt. Thus there was a theory that the tradition stemmed from a desire to imitate the beings to whom this trait was natural. Often such beings were revered as ‘gods’ and ‘deities’. Thus it made sense that their devotees would seek to be like them. In Egypt the characteristic set the statues and artwork of the dynasty of Pharaoh Akhenaten and his queen Nefertiti apart from any of their predecessors, as was the radical changes in art and culture that accompanied these two rulers. This trait, as well as the transformation that Akhenaten started, mysteriously disappeared when Tutankhamen came into power.

As was the case with Professor Pillay, our meeting was ended because Doctor Weiss had to give a lecture. I thanked him and bade him farewell. It seemed to me that I had various parts of this puzzle coming together, but I was still uncertain of how they all fitted into the bigger picture. As I was pondering this, another message came over my phone. It was from an old friend. His name was Rob Henry, and he had been an investigative journalist like me until he was involved in a terrible incident that scarred him for life and left him blind in one eye. He still worked for the underground as a freelance, and had assembled a small team of hackers and techs that often got their hands on intel that would never have been published under normal circumstances.

It appeared that he had found out what I was working on, and had decided to do some searching on his own. He asked me to meet him at a shell-house in Sunnyside Pretoria. As soon as I arrived, I knew that this was important. The ‘front-room’ - the outer façade that hid the place’s true identity - was a bar. Usually the place was packed, but tonight it was almost empty. I also recognised at least one of the customers as being a known member of the Rez, and by the way she and her colleagues were equipped, they were not there on a social call. They were on guard duty! Which meant that something big - not to mention potentially dangerous - was going on downstairs.

Rob greeted me as I entered the room. It was clear that this was his base of operation. There was an unmade bed, a small table with a coffee machine and some uneaten food on it, and a large multi-screen computer against the opposite wall. On the centre screen was the image of a new building, by the looks of it, somewhere in the richer part of Johannesburg.

As though he read my mind, Rob stated: “The place is in Midrand, and it’s just opened up. It houses a new research lab run by a group called the Konaki Foundation - some new multi-national Corp based in Japan. We’ve been sussing it out for some time now, and have already picked up some weird shit. So much so that I’ve sent one of my best hackers to break into their surveillance system to give us an inside picture - ah! Here she is now.” A picture appeared on the screen. It was the hooded face of a young girl, and by her surroundings it was obvious that she was on the roof of a building. Rob spoke to her: “Juliet One, are you in position?”

“Ready to rock and roll Romeo Base.” Came the coded reply, “Commencing hacking in 5, 4, 3, 2 - and I’m in. Let the horror show begin! This is directly from the security cameras inside the building - no editing.” The first image was not very clear. It showed two figures in a small room. There was only a three quarter size mattress on the floor upon which both of the occupants were made to sleep, made obvious by the locked door off to one side. It had no handle on the inside, which meant that these two were imprisoned in this tiny cell.

Juliet One’s voice came on again, and she said: “Let’s get a closer look at these two.” After which the camera zoomed in until we could clearly see their faces. “Oh my God! Will you look at that!”

What came across was horrifying indeed: They were both girls in their late teens. Their hair was matted and dishevelled, their faces stained as though they had not been allowed to bathe for some time. Their clothing consisted of what looked like tattered hospital gowns, the colour of which was now indistinguishable because they were so grubby.

But it was the look on their faces, more especially their eyes, that was the most shocking. The first one gazed into the camera, and her expression was a mixture of sheer terror and total exhaustion. Her eyes were wide, her pupils the size of pinpricks, but she had such dark rings around her eyes that it looked like she had been punched in the face. The rest of her facial features were void of any expression, just those haunting terrified eyes staring back at us!

Although the second face did not show any sign of terror or even fear, it too was expressionless. The girl just stared blankly into space. It was clear that she too had been subjected to possible sleep deprivation, but such total oblivion to the world around her could only have been induced either using drugs or even more sinister means. The scars on the side of her head showed that she had undergone some kind of surgery, and we could only hazard a guess as to what had been done to her.

“Moving along then.” Said Juliet One - whose real name was Jessica - her voice noticeably shaken. There was a blur for a moment as she shifted to another camera, this time pointing towards one of the outside windows. The image was somewhat out of focus, only for a second, and in that time we could see what looked like a child’s face peering back at us through the glass. It was only there for a split second before it moved away out of sight once more. We asked Jessica to go back to the image again, and she obliged. It was a face all-right, but to say that it was human was stretching it a little.



The next two were also not very clear, but we could definitely see that the figure in the second one was also not normal. It was bald, its head looking more like that of an alien Grey, and the eyes glowed like two coals in the darkened room. The one that followed was at least human, or seemed so as far as we could tell. This was also of a young girl in a gown of sorts. She was crawling on all fours as she descended a flight of stairs, her long hair hiding her face so that we were unable to see any features.

Peering through a closed door was the most alarming of the images we had seen thus far. It was very tall, and was dressed in black. Like one of the previous figures, this one was bald with glowing eyes. Only this time there was no doubting what this thing was, and it definitely was not human! It had a tiny nose and no ears as far as we could see. The mouth was also disproportionally small for the size of the face. We could not see the top of this being’s head as it was blocked by the top of the window, through which it seemed to be observing whatever was going on in the room.

“Okay - The next three clips aren’t current, but they are fairly recent.” The voice on the other side explained, “I’ve been here a while waiting for you guys, and I’ve been busy. I’m going to play them back to you now, and be warned - they’re really icky!”

The first was of what at first looked like a normal operating room, with three doctors standing around a patient on the table. Everything seemed to be above board until the so-called patient began squirming and writhing as though in agony. Then it dawned on us that he might even still be conscious! No anaesthetic! Jessica then informed us that the next brief footage was of the same person after he had undergone whatever the doctors had done to him. He was trussed up in a straitjacket, and was thrashing about, banging the back of his head against the wall of his cell. There was no audio, but we could tell by his contorted face that he was screaming, although we could only imagine what he was saying.

The last one was a replay of the first images we had seen. This time it was a split image: The first one showing a young woman in a gown. She was standing barefoot in an empty room. Instead of a jacket, she was bound using thick bandages. When she turned to look at the camera, we were once again greeted with the same vacant stare and the black rings under her eyes.

“What the fuck are we ...?” I began to ask. My question was abruptly stopped by a voice off-camera shouting something we could not hear. Jessica’s voice was next as she screamed. Soon after that the video feed went dead, only the sound remaining. There were three loud bangs and another cry of pain and terror! We did not need to see to know what had happened.

“Jee-zuss!” Rob exclaimed, his hands in his hair, “God damn it! What just happened there?”

I could only reply: “Someone got pissed off with our snooping around.”

“No shit!” He responded, “Now Jess has been murdered! Bastards! Fucking bastards!”

As we spoke, the video seemed to come on by itself. There before us was Jess’s lifeless body, three bullet wounds showing clearly how she had died. Two of them were head wounds, and the third was in the small of her back, just below her shoulder blades. The boot of someone - obviously the one holding the camera - pushed her head so that we could almost see her face, now full of blood.

A voice came over the microphone. He threatened: “This is what happens to anyone who snoops around where they don’t belong. Stay away, or else you’ll end up like your little friend here!” Then the video died for the last time.

Both of us were too dumbstruck to say anything after what we had just witnessed. Rob was going to call the police but realised, that firstly it was unlikely that anything would be done about the case, and more importantly that he would probably be next in line. So instead he packed up some of his belongings, including a laptop that he used as back-up, and prepared to leave town for a while - at least until the smoke settled so to speak.

Still badly shaken, I went back to the shell-house where I was staying. I switched on my computer so that I could report the incident at the Konaki Laboratories, when I saw that there was a new broadcast from Kumar, whom I had added to my subscriptions after the first one I had watched.

Again the hooded figure and distorted voice came across, saying: “Since my last recording, people have asked me: ‘So what do these aliens want of us? Why should we be afraid?’ Well, perhaps the following photographs will convince you that they are not here as benevolent saviours, coming to rescue us from all our woes. These are not for the faint-hearted, so be warned ...”

The first one reminded me of the pictures we had seen at the labs, only worse. The still vacant eyes were now void of colour as well, as though the individual had developed severe cataracts over both of them. Where there had once been black rings under her eyes, they had turned red as the blood-vessels had now ruptured. There were also signs of blood having trickled from her mouth, despite a rather clumsy effort to clean it up. But the expression on her face had changed, from blank and emotionless to a now manic grin.

It was clear that neither the elderly nor the very young were excluded from such savagery. The second photo showed the wizened face of an old man. His eyes were also without pupil or iris, but the look on his face was far from maniacal. One could not help but feel pity for him as his countenance was a mask of misery and anguish. Whatever mad science these butchers were performing seemed to have disastrous bodily consequences as well, as was shown in the last two clips in this series. The one was of a young teenager, his eyes as seemingly sightless as the rest, but the experiments had obviously also left him physically disabled too. He was sitting in an old wheelchair.

The worst had been saved for last however. It was of a man whose age could not be ascertained as his whole face had been badly disfigured by what appeared to be severe burns. These were not caused by any fire! The skin seemed to have melted away in some places, exposing the tissue and bone beneath, giving this wretched victim a truly nightmarish visage.

“... So what do they want of us?” Kumar returned, “Do they want to make us their slaves? Or is their aim to wipe us out entirely? These are questions for which I have no answer yet, but one thing is clear: They are actively changing us into their image. This is a recent picture taken outside someone’s home in New York. The image is from a camera that records visitors before the owners allow them in. Thankfully they did not comply, despite this person’s insistence that they do so ...”

Although I had not seen this particular picture before, it was all too familiar. The face that appeared on screen was grey, her complexion ashen, and staring back at me through the lens were the all too familiar coal-black eyes. But this time there were a few marked differences to the ones I had been shown previously. This was not just a child with pitch black eyes! They were much bigger than normal, so much so that the brows looked like they had been stretched, the orbits enlarged, to accommodate them. The small nose was grossly deformed, both at the top and the lower part. Like the Grey we spotted in the labs, her mouth was also way too small, which made it look like she was pouting all the time.

Unlike the other videos thus far, this one included some audio. I could hear the owner saying: “Can I help you?”

To which the stranger responded in an almost dead-pan voice: “Please ma’am - Can I come in? My car has broken down, and I don’t have a phone. I need to use yours, please let me in.”

Trying to be helpful, the resident said: “Hold on. I’ll come out to you and let you use my phone outside.”

But the person insisted that she needed to enter the home, and when she was told that she would have to wait outside, she became most indignant and demanded: “No miss - You must let me in now!”

The woman in the house replied: “I think you’d better leave now, or I will call the police.”

Alas, there was no quarter given from the other side of the door. The stranger brooked no refusal: “All I want is for you to let me in so that I can use your phone, so just let me in!”

The video feed ended there, and Kumar explained that the home-owner ended up phoning the local constabulary, but when they arrived not three minutes later, the figure had just vanished. Further investigation of the camera footage showed that she had appeared out of nowhere, and that there definitely was no auto parked anywhere on the street outside the house.

Again his hooded image returned, and he spoke: “... Is this the work of the notorious Grey aliens? Well, according to one of my sources - someone I trust almost implicitly - this is closer to the truth than we care to admit ...”

The rugous face of a grey-haired woman appeared on screen. As old as she seemed, her eyes sparkled brightly, and her overall impression was of someone who had lived her life to its fullest, and had seen many things during that lifetime. By the clothing that she wore, I thought at first that she was Native American. She had what looked like tattoos under her left eye and down the side of her neck and shoulder on the same side. They were monochromatic, done in a dark earthy red, and resembled either vines or intricate Celtic knot-work, I could not quite work out which. But then I found out that she was actually from South Africa. She was also part San - a race that had all but died out by the end of the 2000s, known to many as the ‘Bushmen’. Her name was Cornelia Daantjie, and she claimed to be a Medium of sorts.

Daantjie said that the Grey (she referred to them merely as ‘Bad Aliens’) were not on earth on their own will, but were servants of another race: None other than the Anunnaki, whom she claimed to have begun their reign during the Sumerian, Akkadian, Assyrian and Babylonian eras, where they ensconced themselves as deities, Gods and Goddesses whose primary function was to decree the fates of humanity. All the subsequent religions stemmed from them, including some that became almost universal by the mid to late twentieth century. However growing disillusionment with these faiths threatened the Anunnaki’s hold on humanity, and so they began to manipulate the race of men, not from churches, temples or shrines, but from seats of political, corporate, military and financial power worldwide. Thus they continued to assert their will upon the inhabitants of Earth just as they had been doing for millennia.



One particular deity she mentioned was called Moloch. He was said to demand that children were sacrificed before him, although there was some debate as to whether these were left alive or killed. The Medium suggested that Moloch in fact enslaved these children and forced them to do his bidding. In fact there was an old etching of an altar dedicated to Moloch, and it had small platforms on the idol’s body where it was said that the faithful would leave their offerings. A fire burned at the base of the statue, hence the belief that the child sacrifices were actually thrown into the furnace alive.

I was immediately reminded of the Anunnaki Manifesto at this point, especially the part when it said that children would be taken from their mothers at birth. I thought of the practise that had become popular in so many countries to either give their babies up for adoption on the one hand, or to adopt them on the other in the guise of ‘giving them a better chance at life’. This was a trend among the more affluent of households, and was praised as an ‘act of charity’, but it left one asking if these kids were not becoming indoctrinated into the present corrupt system of inequality. It was fine for them because they were on the winning team, so to speak. But what about the rest of the child’s siblings and family, left on the other side of the divide? Surely it would have been more charitable to assist the whole family, or even the entire community.

Kumar’s icon returned, and he stated: “... About a year ago footage from one of the orbital observation stations, situated over Scandinavia and Northern Europe, indicated that an unidentified object was seen just above our atmosphere. Although the initial imaging was not very clear, analysts have stated that it definitely did not originate from Earth. This is the first glimpse we got of this entity ...”

What appeared on screen was a typical picture of a suspected UFO. It was little more than a small and indistinct black speck on the horizon. Kumar continued: “... The station was able to enlarge the image, and this is what came out ...” This time there was no mistaking it for a piece of space junk, man-made or otherwise. Instead of being black, it was now metallic in colour, and its shape was neither random nor natural. This was a space craft! One of such dimensions that it could not have been built on Earth. While certain countries had built ships that were capable of space flight, these were barely larger than shuttles, crewed by maybe five members and with enough room for two or three more. This was the same size as a luxury cruise ship, or even a large oil tanker!

Kumar picked up where he had left off: “... The following day, what seemed to be a smaller vessel was seen leaving the craft and was heading towards Earth’s surface. Soon after that a strange wreck was found in the Mojave desert, near Searles in Kern County. Although it had impacted the earth at great speed, much of the shuttle was still intact, making this the most complete crashed UFO in history. Although there were claims that an alien corpse was found as well, these were quickly denied by the government agents investigating the case. This picture here, however, clearly shows a strange body lying in front of the downed craft. Those that believe this to be accurate also say that the alien could be identified as a Grey ...”

The first of the two pictures he showed us was of the smaller ship. The image was blurred, but the outline of the vessel was unmistakable. The second was of the wreckage, and unless the whole thing had been staged - say either as an elaborate hoax or some film set - the evidence was irrefutable. This was an alien ship for sure, and the only casualty in the incident was lying in the dirt where it had fallen, seemingly out of the cockpit that had shattered on impact.



Once again he referred back to Cornelia Daantjie, and her theories: “... She claims that we don’t face this threat alone. She speaks of another race, one that used to reside on Earth long ago, even before we humans arrived on the scene. Because of clashes between us and these people, they elected to leave by some means. Only a few remained behind. While some of them despised human beings, others saw that the only way for their genes to survive would be to mingle with certain human communities and take on human partners. The rest went into hiding in remote places. Daantjie herself claims to belong to the second faction ...”

Again her image appeared on screen, and that was when I noticed that there was something strange about her. The tips of her ears, or the pinnae, were not rounded like the average human being. They were more pointed! Not to the extent that one would associate with the elves of legend mind you, but distinguishable nonetheless. I struggled to recall where I had seen this trait before, and then it came back to me: Three of the individuals that Kumar had mentioned as being benevolent had the same feature. A new face appeared, and this time it was very clear. His name was Jukka Cheng. He was from Hong Kong, and had been instrumental in some far-reaching reforms in that city that had made it a haven for those who wished to escape the corrupt system. So - were these ‘Elves’ really here to help us? Or was this some ruse made up to lull us into a false sense of security?

Kumar carried on quoting from the old Medium. She stated that one of the entities for which she acted as a channel was known only as Aldu, and was said to be a member of Ashtar Command. I had heard of the so-called Federation of Light and Ashtar Command before, and although it had piqued my interest, I had always been more than a little sceptical about them. I had listened to some of their broadcasts and found them to be somewhat contradictory at times. So when Daantjie began speaking of a race that I had never even heard of before, and the fact that these ‘Sylvan’ were the ones to aid humanity in combating the alien threat, I began to lose any confidence in the validity of her claims.

I was about to switch channels when Kumar reappeared. As if he was aware of my scepticism, he insisted: “... As crazy as these seem, there is evidence of another alien race that have been watching over our planet for a long time, a very long time indeed! In the latter part of the 19th Century, before extraterrestrial life forms were even considered, Nicola Tesla - a prominent scientist and inventor of that era - was said to have reported anomalous radio waves coming from space. These were also detected in 1928 by an amateur radio operator in Oslo, Norway. Although these were widely thought to be merely pulsars - which were only discovered forty years later - the fact that they behaved in a unique fashion, uncharacteristic of these naturally occurring phenomena, was never fully explained.

In the 1960s and 70s various reports came in of a strange satellite orbiting the Earth. This was in the middle of the so-called Cold War, and both sides pointed fingers at each other until it was clear that the object did not originate from either of them. This anomaly was dubbed the ‘Black Knight’. Although once again it was said to be space debris, no explanation was given for its massive size or the fact that it seemed to remain in synchronous orbit with the Earth. That was until about twenty years ago, when the Black Knight vanished from sight.

Soon after that it seems that another intergalactic visitor took up the vigil after the Black Knight’s departure ...” Again an image from an observation satellite came into view, and once more it was very blurred. Soon however it became clearer, and the result was a ship, the size rivalling the suspected Grey vessel, and the configuration was one that I had never seen before! “... Upon seeing this image, Daantjie stated that this was a Sylvan ship, as was the Black Knight before it.”

The feed ended there.

So I was left with the question: Was there any truth in this tale? Or was it all a big jape that had been contrived in order for the authors to gain popularity? Quite frankly, I had no idea, and at the moment anything seemed possible. The rabbit-hole I was exploring was getting weirder by the minute!

Then, as though something was telling me, that while all of this was interesting, I had allowed myself to become distracted, I received another call from Detective Kemp. I feared the worst: That there had been another murder.

He assured me: “No - thankfully, it’s good news this time, or at least it has potential. Some guy has been admitted to the Waterfall Hospital in Midrand. Claims to have escaped from the same place where your contact was murdered. I’ve already spoken to him, and it seems pretty legit to me, but he says he wants to speak to you specifically. His name is Wayne Jonker.”

I agreed to go and see him. He was in his mid-twenties I guessed, and was in the company of a young girl, perhaps in her early twenties or late teens. By the way they interacted, I reckoned that they were romantically involved, so I waited until the girl left. She smiled at me as she walked by, but did not say anything. The nurse then ushered me into the cubicle under strict instructions that I was not to be there for too long.

When I saw him I noticed that he looked pretty banged up, with clear evidence of his attempted escape. His scalp was covered in small to medium lacerations, as were his hands - which were bandaged up. It looked like he had tried to jump through a pane of glass. He also had abrasions on his one cheek and on the left shoulder. These resembled ‘roasties’, a type of injury common among bikers and were caused from the skin scraping on the asphalt. His collarbone and some ribs had been fractured as well, as had the lower part of his left leg. These injuries told me that he had fallen from quite a height, like perhaps from the first floor of a building.

But there were other signs that were indicative of something much more sinister. The bruising around his neck and throat, almost as though someone had tried to strangle him; the old needle marks in his neck and arms, which had not been done professionally enough so as not to leave a bruise themselves. Some of these had been administered with a dirty needle, and had thus become septic over time. His wrists and ankles showed signs that he had been chained up in shackles at some time, and had fought in a vain attempt to free himself. He looked up at me, and it was as if he was struggling to focus.

His voice was thick and his speech slurred when he asked: “Who are you?”

I told him and he relaxed a little. I then enquired: “Who did this to you?”

“A lot of this was my own doing, from where I tried to get out of that place.” He began. It was as though the very thought of what he had endured sickened him as his face went pale, but he persisted: “The other stuff - Well it wasn’t one guy. I mean there was a whole team. They called themselves Doctors, but were more like fucking crazy butchers and scientists as far as I’m concerned. The guy in charge was one of the creepiest. I think he was German - or something like that - and his name was Doctor Jacob Waldstein. The thing that weirded me out was that he didn’t look old enough to shave, let alone be a bloody doctor. But by far the freakiest was the big boss. I only saw him once or twice, and at first I thought I was tripping on some drug or something. Dude - this guy wasn’t even human! His name was even weird: Agmun Govek - I mean, what kind of name is that? ...”

He proceeded to describe the being to me, and I soon realised that this was the alien entity we had seen through the hacked security system the night when Jessica died. He then continued: “There were eight of us who had arrived at the same time. Some were like me, and had answered an add to become part of some research project as test-subjects. I had done this before, and the other one seemed above board. The cash was good too, so when I saw the notice, I jumped at the opportunity.

The first warning sign that something was not lekker was when I came across one of the older subjects late one night. The bathrooms were next to each other, and were communal like. As it happens, that night the power had gone off, so the whole place was dark. But the staff had given us torches so that we could find our way around. Anyway, so I’m just going down the passage when I see this chick heading my way, obviously from the little girls’ room. But it was strange that she had no torch with her. I mean it was really dark in that passage. Then I saw something that scared the crap out of me. The beam of my lamp shone right into her face, and I swear to God, her eyes were blank - No pupil and no colour, just plain white. And yet she stared right at me! Maybe it was a trick of the light, but I shat myself all-right! I lowered the torch, and we passed each other.

At first the experiments seemed pretty cool, but soon they got weird. Like the one day they put us in a small room with glass on one side. We were naked, and it felt uncomfortable knowing that the scientists were watching us. Then they attached some kind of electrodes onto the back of my head, while others were placed on my junk - if you get my meaning. Then I was left alone in the room. I felt a strange sensation, like a mild headache. Then they turned on their contraption. My whole body started to react strangely, and my cock began to swell until it felt like it was going to burst. My legs went shaky and my knees gave in as I came all over the floor. I thought that the experiment was over, but they carried on until my cum was like water, by which time I was in so much pain I couldn’t stand any-more. I collapsed onto the floor, my face smeared in my own gism. At last they came in and picked me up. They put me on a stretcher and wheeled me back to my room.

What made the whole thing even more freaked out was that they didn’t stimulate me directly. It was all cerebral, as if they had tapped into the part of our brains that controlled our sexual response and made us aroused.

We had very little to do with the other subjects, only meeting at meal times. It was then that I discovered that the previous experiment wasn’t only conducted on the guys, but on the girls as well! But the shit didn’t stop there! The next day we noticed that they had posted armed guards at either end of the passage. That was when we realised that we were no longer just test-subjects, we were prisoners! Then the real nightmare began. We were subjected to the most bizarre and terrifying experiments imaginable. From so-called tests of physical endurance to sensory deprivation, we were forced to face all of it and then more. They fed us drugs and shit that screwed with our minds so that even our worst nightmares seemed like sweet dreams by comparison. I mean the dude in the cell next to me even died man! And they didn’t do shit about it. They just carried him off and buried him in a shallow grave outside.

Then the bastards infected us all with some disease that ate away at our skin ...” At this point he lifted his arms out from under the sheets. They were covered in disinfectant bandages that were usually used for burns patients. That was when I realised that I had seen this before. The victim that I thought had been so badly burnt was more likely to have fallen prey to the same experiment. “... When one of the chicks disappeared, I knew then that I needed to get the hell out of there, or I would be next.


I knew that there was no getting passed the day-shift guards - I mean one of them, a rough son of a bitch known just as Skarnay - he wasn’t even human either. He looked just like the big boss. But there was one night-shift guard which I thought might help me. Her name was Donna, and she used to sneak in extra food for us. She also refused to give us the shit that her bosses told her to - that was done by a guy by the name of Jackson, and he looked like he was using some of it himself. Most of the time he was too goofed out to take any notice.

Two nights after the chick disappeared, I approached Donna, and almost begged her to help me get out of there. She took my hand and led me out of sight of Jackson, and then said: “I can help you, but you must do exactly what I say. I’ve already helped two of your friends escape, but I can’t risk doing it again, so you’re the last. When you leave, call the police. Although there’s no guarantee, there is a chance that they will do something about this place.”

Then she opened the door from our passage, and I followed her instructions. I nearly didn’t make it out though. As I rounded a corner, two of the scientists saw me and razed the alarm. I ran to the end of the passage and bailed out through the window, which is where I got these ...” He pointed to his head and hands. “I didn’t know that the window was on the first floor, and I crashed into the tar below. The pain was really bad, but the adrenalin - as well as some of the crap that was still in my system no doubt - kept me going until I finally collapsed in the middle of the road. Luckily there were a lot of people around, or else those buggers would have just dragged me back, but they wouldn’t dare in front of everyone. Someone phoned a medivan, and that’s how I ended up here!”

“What has happened to Donna?” I enquired.

“I don’t know.” Came the response, “I hope she got out herself, but my gut tells me that bastard Okuda got to her. If he did, she’s probably dead by now.”

“Who’s this Okuda?” I questioned.

“Tony Okuda is supposed to guard the perimeter of the premises, but he’s nothing more than a fucking hit-man.” Wayne explained, “He’s the guy who offed your girlfriend. A real nasty piece of shit! Hired by the head-office in Japan to do their dirty work.”

Just then the nurse came in and told me that I had to go, and that it was time for the staff to change his dressings. I wished him well and left the ward. When I returned to my auto, I found that the windscreen had been shattered on the one side. There was a note stuck to it, short and to the point. It just said: “Walk away or die”!

Just then a police auto pulled up, and out stepped Detective Kemp. He took me aside, and in a very stern voice insisted: “That’s it Buys. Time to leave this case to us. Once we have something to report, I’ll let you know, but you stay away from this, hear me?”

Looking at the damage to my auto and the note, I reluctantly agreed.

A few days later I received a call from Detective Kemp. He informed me that they had followed up on some leads given to them by Wayne Jonker, and had found some hard evidence, albeit tragic. In the veld at the East side of the laboratories lay the partially charred remains of a young woman. It was clear from the start who this was because she was still wearing what was left of a security uniform. It was Donna! Further examination showed that she had been shot in much the same way as Jessica had, and someone had tried to get rid of the proof by cremating her, but the attempt was not successful.

Following Jonker’s directions, they uncovered a shallow grave that contained the badly decomposed body of a young man. Later the police found out that he was a university student who had gone missing after volunteering to become a test-subject for some scientific experiment or other. Again this matched Wayne’s testimony. Close by another body, this time much older, was dug up. It was little more than a skeleton, and the guys from forensics had not as yet been able to positively identify who it was. This was enough to warrant shutting the place down and arresting those responsible. Doctor Waldstein was the first, followed by five of his team members. The guard referred to as Jackson was also taken into custody. On the roof they found what was left of the hit-man Okuda, but he had saved them the trouble of arresting him by ending his own life rather than having to face justice. Mysteriously, but hardly surprising, there was no sign of Agmun Govek or any of the other aliens involved.

It was also discovered that Okuda had been responsible for the murder that we found outside Kim’s Escorts. He was positively identified by images on the building’s closed-circuit television cameras, and had been seen exiting an auto about half an hour before the victim was found. The police reckoned that the guy had been killed elsewhere, and the body dumped in the alley in order to divert attention away from the place where the actual murder took place. This meant that the original police report had at best been fabricated, or at worst someone had paid off the officer in charge to purposefully falsify it. This was nothing new to me, as it often happened when the perpetrator was either connected to some upper-class individual, or was one himself.

That night I stayed up until the dawn broke to complete my article. I purposefully left out a large chunk about the alien connection, insisting that these were mere conjecture and allegations, and signed off by saying: “This investigation is still ongoing.”












© Copyright 2020 Tristan Biggs. All rights reserved.


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