Dieter Weiss strolled into the Bavarian Beer Keller and sat at the end of a bench amid the drunken hustle and bustle of a Munich Saturday night. A waitress appeared from the throng around the bar, and he ordered a large beer.
The bar was of old design with oak beams which ran the width of the ceiling. Pinned to them were crests and photographs of places in Bavaria. Pine benches and tables ran the length of the room. The windows, six panes of obscured glass, had dark shapes passing back and forth behind them.
Many doors at the back of the Keller led off to private lounges, and through one of those doors appeared a man with black hair and a short moustache. Dressed in a light grey suit with collar and tie he approached a waitress and ordered more drinks. Then, turning around to return back to the lounge, he caught sight of Weiss sitting looking at him.
For what seemed like hours the two men locked their vision on each other oblivious to what was happening around them.
“My Lord.” Hitler said, after recovering from the shock and making his way over to the bench where Weiss was sitting.
“Sit down Adolf.” Weiss said in a low voice.
“I have been searching for you,” said Hitler.
“And now you’ve found me, or rather I have found you.”
“After Formelles you went to Ypres–yes?” Hitler asked, in his Austrian accented German.
“Yes, I was amid the mud of Passchendaele.”
“We fought bravely throughout the war, but the gods were against us. Now look at Germany: a super power on her knees; strife and unrest on the streets, rampant unemployment, and the economy in tatters. The military might is still there, it needs revitalized. The country needs a new leader; it needs a glorious new direction.”
“And this party of yours I’ve heard of will deliver?”
“Yes, with you in our ranks we will restore Germany back to where it belongs.”
“As I have told others I’m not interested in politics; not yours, not anyone else’s. I am however interested in your soul; you have the type of soul I require.”
“You frighten me my Lord. I am not ready to depart this world.”
“Yes, I know. I am the priest of an order which would be of interest to you. Will you come along to a meeting and join?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good, we meet on Tuesday night in Nueller Hall on Schollerstrasse. Until then I bid you farewell.” Weiss said as he stood up and then walked out of the bar.
Hitler sat lost in thought until the waitress brought him out of his reverie by asking for payment.
“Of course,” he said, reaching for his wallet.
After paying her he returned to the back lounge; back to his friends, there was important business to discuss.
The chanting reverberated around the cavernous hall recently converted to a gymnasium. Light from candles placed around the floor pushed the encroaching darkness away.
Adolf Hitler stood blindfolded in the centre of a circle of thirty brethren. He had a golden goblet of red wine before him. Dieter Weiss, who had introduced the initiation ceremony, stood at an altar in a trance.
As the chanting got louder and louder the brethren took out their cocks and masturbated into goblets they had placed in front of them. As the chanting came to a halt the goblets were emptied into the initiate’s drink.
“Brother Hitler, do you swear allegiance to the Goddess Hel and to merge your eternal soul and
“I do.”
“Then drink the fluids of life and death,” commanded Weiss as the goblet was handed to Hitler.
He took up a place in the circle after the blindfold was removed. He joined in the chanting, which seemed to be trying to wrench his soul out of his body. Looking up into the raftered ceiling he was sure he saw small, winged demons flying about in the shadows. When he lowered his vision again Weiss was standing in the middle of the circle – eyes crimson.
“Brothers, there are a few among us tonight who consider a new direction; that is for them to take. They will re-join us on our path to releasing the ancient ones, and creating a new beginning on the Earth,” growled Weiss. He then rose into the air and flew over the group to take up his place at the altar.
The chanting, which had been low while Weiss was talking rose in volume again until it tailed off marking the end of the meeting.
“What was in that goblet? It wasn’t just wine now was it?” Hitler asked Weiss as they were leaving.
“The wine symbolizes life as in blood, while another ingredient: part of our bodies, symbolizes death. We are, if you will, the living dead of the Dark Dimension. This man will explain it in more detail,” said Weiss, putting his arm on the shoulders of a small plump man with spectacles and a feint moustache. “Adolf, meet Heinrich Himmler.”
Earlier, Joshua Levine climbed the stairs of the Nueller Hall. The chanting coming from the doors of the gymnasium had roused his curiosity. He had been late in leaving the chess club after doing some tidying up in the small function suite just inside the main outer door under the stairs.
He put his hand on the handle of the double doors and tried to turn it, but it was locked. The chanting was becoming louder causing an increase in his curiosity.
He fetched a chair from the function suite and placed it in front of the door to the gymnasium. He then climbed onto it and peered through the small window at the top of the entrance.
What Joshua saw turned his whole life upside down. A man was flying upright through the air–
no not a man—something with what looked like rotting skin and red eyes. The thing landed beside an altar behind a circle of hooded figures, which were the source of the chanting.
Oh my God, thought Joshua, a bunch of Satan worshippers. He stumbled back off the chair and ran down the stairs. He then unlocked the main door and ran out into the night air. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm down, but images of what he had just witnessed thundered back into his mind’s eye.
After a while he walked off into the dark.
Munich 1921
Dieter Weiss arrived early at the Nueller Hall for the evenings meeting of the Order of the Gate. He unlocked the main outer door, climbed the steps and entered the empty gymnasium.
While he was setting up the altar, the large street-side windows exploded into a frenzy of flying glass, and bricks ricocheted off the far wall.
“Shit!” Wiess shouted, as he ran out of the door, down the stairs and out on to the street. He was just in time to see Joshua Levine, and a group of other young Jewish men run away. He turned to inspect the damage and was confronted by a slogan daubed in red paint on the wall under the broken windows which read: ‘Satanists out’
Adolf Hitler arrived with Heinrich Himmler just as Weiss was about to re-enter the building.
“Do you know who did this?” asked Hitler, looking at the graffiti.
“Some Jewish kids; I recognised them from this neighbourhood.”
“Vermin,” said Himmler.
“They must have been spying on the meetings.” Weiss said.
Hitler looked at Weiss and said: “I’ll deal with this.”
“No Adolf, they’ve no idea what they’re dealing with–or maybe they do! Their time will come.
I’ll have this cleaned up early tomorrow before news of this spreads.”
After the meeting Weiss asked Hitler to remain.
“I heard you’re now absolute ruler of the National Socialists.”
“You heard right my Lord.”
“What’s your next move? Are you going to take over the country?”
“We will call for a Putsch to overthrow the central government. Germany needs a strongman to unite the people and make the country great again after that humbling surrender in 1918. We were sold out by politicians of the left, another lot whose time will come. I have no time for Bolshevism or Jewry; two evils determined to take over the world. This episode tonight has made me more determined to stop them.”
Germany 1934
The telephone in Dieter Weiss’s Berlin law office rang as he sat and watched leaves being blown around by a blustery wind. He swung round on his revolving chair and grabbed the receiver.
“Hitler here,” said a harsh voice.
“Ah Chancellor, what can I do for you?”
“I would like to invite you to meet some people. Are you free tonight at seven?”
“Yes.”
“Good, I will send a car for you.”
Weiss swung back and continued staring out of the window. His reflection stared back at him and asked: “Who are these people he wants me to meet?”
At seven precisely a black Citroen drew up outside the building which housed Weiss’s office.
Weiss left the shelter of the outer lobby and opened the rear passenger door and then he slid along the well-worn leather seat.
“Good evening, Sir,” said the driver dressed in Nazi uniform.
“Good evening,” replied Weiss.
The journey took fifteen minutes through the busy streets of Berlin, the car pulling up outside a red brick building known as the Rotes Rathaus. Heinrich Himmler in his black SS uniform greeted Wiess as he left the car.
“I’m sure you will find this interesting my Lord. These people point the way to the future for the Nazi Party.”
“Ha! We’ll see about that,” said Weiss under his breath as he followed Himmler through the large outer doors and down a staircase to the basement.
In the candle lit chamber Weiss could make out the figure of Adolf Hitler amid a hoard of robed men. “Who are these people?” he asked Himmler.
“The Thule Society,” answered the SS commander.
Ah yes, thought Weiss, the proponents of ‘The Hollow Earth Theory’ and people from Atlantis.
Surely these top Nazi’s were not taken in by all that?
“Do you wish to be initiated my Lord?” asked Himmler, donning a black robe.
“No, I wish to witness what transpires before I commit–surely you know whatever happens here will stay with me.”
“Yes, of course.”
The altar, in the centre of the room, thought Weiss had strange items on it for a theoretical occult society. There was a human skull, a ram’s skull and a ceremonial dagger.
The Master of Ceremonies entered the chamber, and the brethren chanted Latin phrase. Weiss could sense a pulse of evil reverberate through the atmosphere. He thought, this is no theoretical occult society, these people are Satanists.
“All praise to the Master,” shouted the Master of Ceremonies.
“Praise to the Master,” shouted the hoard.
In the shadows at the back of the room Weiss had to stifle a laugh.
A door at the far side of the hall opened, and two brothers dragged in a young Jewish boy – his feet scrapping along the ground.
The boy was stripped and laid on the altar. The ram’s skull complete with huge horns was placed on his head. Paralyzing drugs made his body seem as if he didn’t care; his eyes, however, told a different story.
“I give you this gift of life my lord, and ask for your continued guidance,” said the Master of Ceremonies, as he plunged the dagger into the boy’s heart.
The boy arched his back and emitted a strained cry as the life force ebbed from him. The Master of Ceremonies swayed his head as if in ecstasy over what he saw in front of him; it appeared as if he had absorbed the sacrifices energy. He spoke in a hoarse alien voice: “Brothers, the masters have
instructed me to tell you to continue on the current path. The one among us – the new messiah –
will lead Germany to glorious victories over all. You must crush any resistance and wipe the Earth clean of those who are inferior,” the man paused for a moment. “There is one among us tonight who is an unbeliever and scoffs at our plans. But I feel energy… aargh!”
Weiss turned to face the wall, his eyes a deep crimson after strangling the man’s mind as the brethren ran to the aid of the slumped figure.
After the meeting Himmler approached Weiss, who was making his way toward the door.
“Will you join us?” he asked.
“I thought this society was about grail legends and hollow earth theories?”
“Oh yes, it is, we believe in many things. It's adapted somewhat– all for the good of the Third Reich.”
“Heinrich, don’t let impostors, psychopaths and conmen take you in. Will I see you at the next meeting of the order?”
Himmler stared over at Hitler. “Yes, my lord,” he said, returning his gaze to Weiss.
Two weeks later at the Nueller Hall, Weiss was preparing the altar for the evenings meeting. The brethren were putting on their robes when, without warning the doors flew open and ten armed storm troopers strode in and formed a semicircle around the members.
“The Fuhrer orders this meeting to stop,” said a young Sergeant. “I am authorized to use force if needed,” he continued.
The members protested, but Weiss raised his hands. “Brothers, please go I will contact you all in good time.”
“Good riddance,” said Joshua Levine, who stood at the bottom of the stairs as Weiss descended.
So that was it: the Satanists had poisoned the minds of Hitler and Himmler against him, thought Weiss as he walked along the street toward his office. He had played a submissive role and let them choose their own path. There was another matter, however, that required attention.
Paris 1938
Herschel Grynszpan walked up to the German diplomat Ernst vom Rath on the crowded street in front of the German Embassy and shouted: “This is for the treatment of my family and Jews everywhere.” He then shot him at point blank range – five times.
The guards from the embassy seized Grynszpan and pinned him to the ground, then held him there amid chaotic scenes until the police arrived and took him away Grynszpan was beaten and questioned before being bundled into a small cell with a barred window and an old mattress on the floor.
The next morning when they returned to the cell the police were astounded to see a large hole where the window had been, and no sign of the prisoner. Meanwhile at Gare de l’Est Dieter Weiss boarded a train which would take him back to Munich.
Germany 1938
Joshua Levine and his family were asleep upstairs in their Munich home when the front door burst open. Sounds of shouting and crashing reverberated through the house.
Joshua was punched in the stomach by a uniformed man as he ran down the stairs. After he found his wind, he was shocked to see Nazi Storm Troopers smashing up his home and worse, some of them were climbing the stairs.
“Leave my family alone! Why are you doing this?” He bellowed, before he saw stars and darkness consume him.
When he came round, he was lying on the front lawn. His wife Gerda was trying to resuscitate her mother who was lying beside him.
“What happened?”
“Those bastards have taken David and Ruth,” she howled, “and I can’t bring mother round.
Looks as if she’s had a heart attack with them pulling her from her bed and leaving her out here in the cold. When I was being pulled down the stairs, I saw you being hit over the head with a club and then kicked.”
Joshua stood up slowly, wincing from the pains around his body. The sounds of screaming and smashing filled the night as other Jews in the neighbourhood suffered the same treatment. He could see flames leaping from the synagogue several streets away.
“I must get the children back,” he shouted, as he ran along the street, wiping the tears out of his eyes.
“Joshua, wait!” Gerda screamed, but he had gone.
He ran after a truck from where he heard screams coming from the back.
“Stop, you murdering bastards!” he shouted at the top of his voice.
The truck stopped, and the barrel of a rifle poked through the drapes at the back. Joshua halted and stared in shock at the gun. There was a flash of light, then for the second time that night darkness engulfed him, but this time the light would not return.
Hours before, in a hall in the centre of Munich, where the elite of the Nazi party commemorated the anniversary of the Putsch. Josef Goebbels, the Propaganda Minister, having heard of the murder of Ernst vom Rath in Paris asked Hitler, the Fuhrer, to unleash the storm troopers.