Deep Black
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- Posts: 50
- Joined: Thu Dec 30, 2004 5:15 pm
- Location: Midwest
Deep Black
Excerpted from Files 1798, 1799, and 1801 ES
I was sitting at a table in a tiny greasy spoon in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. The guy across from me was CIA. If it wasn't for the urging of an Agency Contact, I would have never agreed to this.
"Look," he said. "I didn't want to use outside channels to do this but they left me no choice. I'm retired now and well, I don't have the pull I used to."
OK. I'm listening. Tell me why I'm here."
"Deep Black OP went bad. Word is the supernatural was involved and the men they sent in weren't prepared for that. They died and they didn't send in a clean-up crew."
"They just left them there? Why?"
"You know I can't answer that."
Maybe I did but I had to ask. "Your people have a policy of avoiding the supernatural, right? Too dangerous to lose good men over. Just seal it off and leave it, is that it?"
He just glared at me with just a tinge of anger and a little understanding mixed in. I had to keep talking.
"OK. What do you want from me?"
"I'm asking you to go in and retrieve the bodies. Our mutual friend tells me you're good at that."
"Nothing personal, but why should I believe you? I mean, how do I know this is really what you're telling me it is?"
He paused, and looked down before he spoke. "Because one of those men is my son."
I didn't see that one coming. And he anticipated my next question.
"Put your hand underneath the table. Feel that envelope? It's got everything inside. Good luck."
In a few days I was on an ex-military chopper on my way to Oregon. The destination was a private compound, an old mansion surrounded by thirty acres. I had a complete floor plan but could not find out anything more about it. Public records had been "misplaced," along with newspaper articles that might've filled me in.
On arrival, I briefed the three man team of Physical Psychics that would be going in with me. The plan was simple: retrieve the bodies, and depending on the threat level, exit or engage and eliminate.
Since we didn't know what we were going to be facing, we were going in heavily armed. One shotgun each, plus 9 mm with hollow point and silver bullets, plus two extra clips, four sticks of dynamite, hand pick-ax and silver-plated daggers. I didn't tell anyone, but I had a Ruger mini-14 in my coat. (I'll explain that one later.) Plus, each man had a Dispel Spirits Amulet (3x per day), but not me.
I never trust front doors so we busted out the two windows on either side of it and went in, two men on each side. Daylight was coming in but the lights didn't work. When no one came over to see what the noise was all about, we moved on and cleared the first floor. Next, the basement. The smell of mildew hit us after we opened the door going down. And there was a sound of water dripping somewhere below. The stairs were taken one man at a time.
The basement had stone walls and was a labyrinth of rooms, empty rooms. Whatever was once in them, no clues, except a few cobwebs, were left behind. We found a large furnace and a giant water heater. It was dripping or should I say leaking water. I warned the men about not letting their guard down.
We continued back up the stairs, not talking, just communicating using hand signals. It was around this time that I began to think the bodies might not still be there. As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard a gurgling sound behind me. Glancing back, I thought I saw something on the basement floor. Swinging my flashligt around, I saw the basement filling with a red liquid. I stopped moving.
There was a hand on my shoulder, shaking me. I vaguely heard something.
"You OK? What's wrong? You OK?"
I turned around and it was Jack Herstler. I remember looking at him but unable to speak and he just kept saying...
"What's wrong? What is it?"
I turned around and the floor was dry as if nothing happened. Somehow, my training took over. "Take five men."
I explained what I had seen to everyone and asked if anyone else had heard the gurgling sound. I got no's all around. It was agreed that we should walk two abreast. We avoided the main staircase and decided to go to the back to take the servants' staircase. However, it also meant we'd have to go single file on the way up.
I was last. And as I climbed I felt some kind of moisture under my feet. Looking down with my flashlight I saw I was leaving bloody footprints behind. This time, when I poked Jack's shoulder, he saw it too.
"OK. The manifestations are increasing in intensity. No time to check if it's an illusion or not.
"Matt, put your weapon in front of you when you open the door at the top. Jim, get ready to pull him back if anything happens. Go!"
The door opened onto a massive ballroom.
"I've got circles on the floor!"
"How many?"
"Four! Two look new. The other two are dust covered and partly rubbed out!"
"Leave them! Do not get any closer! Men! Watch the area over your heads at all times!"
I swept the area with my flashlight, stopping at what I thought was a statue. It was a young woman in a turn of the century evening dress. She was slightly transparent. She looked up and a look of horror was on her face. The apparition ran into a wall.
"Break the wall open!"
We took our picks to it and uncovered a secret door. It opened out. One man would pull and the rest would train their lights and weapons on the interior.
No movement. Jack went in first. "I've got machinery in here! No bodies!"
It was a large room, not on my floor plan. The machinery looked like it was from the 1920s, and there was an eight foot tall piece of sheet metal with wires running to it, two to a side. It was shiny as if recently polished, while the equipment was covered in dust.
There was a voice from above my head. "Gentlemen, why are you breaking into a man's home?"
"Who are you?"
"Who am I? I should be the one asking that question!
"I have been here for so long and you are the ones disturbing me! Leave! Now!"
"We're here for the two others!"
"Oh, yes. Them. Unfortunate. They were very aggressive and I was unable to persuade them to leave. You will find their remains on the floor above. I trust you will leave immediately afterwards."
I felt a cold, icy wind brush past me. And the voice continued.
"Do no more damage to this house and you will remain alive. Understood?"
"Yeah!"
I ushered the team out and we cautiously moved up to the third floor. The machinery in the room we just left was occupying my mind. I've seen something like it before, but where?
Third floor. A series of rooms. A study, bedroom, wash room, bedroom, a library, empty room with a body. This was our man, except he did not appear dead, but asleep, just laying on the floor.
Somebody said, "Now what?"
"Step back in the hall, men." My head was going a mile a minute. Was this a trap? All CIA? Where was the other man? Stop. Think!
"If they wanted us dead we'd be dead by now. Let's get this man out in the hall and then find his partner."
He was dead alright. Cold as ice but not a mark on him. The air was starting to get colder. Footsteps. Something was coming.
"What's that?"
"Could be the dead man's partner." I could begin to make out a figure down the hall dressed the same as the body we just pulled out of the room, except he had a ghostly companion. I don't know why we just didn't open fire right away.
End part One. Part Two in a day or two.
Contact_21
Lazlo Agent
I was sitting at a table in a tiny greasy spoon in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. The guy across from me was CIA. If it wasn't for the urging of an Agency Contact, I would have never agreed to this.
"Look," he said. "I didn't want to use outside channels to do this but they left me no choice. I'm retired now and well, I don't have the pull I used to."
OK. I'm listening. Tell me why I'm here."
"Deep Black OP went bad. Word is the supernatural was involved and the men they sent in weren't prepared for that. They died and they didn't send in a clean-up crew."
"They just left them there? Why?"
"You know I can't answer that."
Maybe I did but I had to ask. "Your people have a policy of avoiding the supernatural, right? Too dangerous to lose good men over. Just seal it off and leave it, is that it?"
He just glared at me with just a tinge of anger and a little understanding mixed in. I had to keep talking.
"OK. What do you want from me?"
"I'm asking you to go in and retrieve the bodies. Our mutual friend tells me you're good at that."
"Nothing personal, but why should I believe you? I mean, how do I know this is really what you're telling me it is?"
He paused, and looked down before he spoke. "Because one of those men is my son."
I didn't see that one coming. And he anticipated my next question.
"Put your hand underneath the table. Feel that envelope? It's got everything inside. Good luck."
In a few days I was on an ex-military chopper on my way to Oregon. The destination was a private compound, an old mansion surrounded by thirty acres. I had a complete floor plan but could not find out anything more about it. Public records had been "misplaced," along with newspaper articles that might've filled me in.
On arrival, I briefed the three man team of Physical Psychics that would be going in with me. The plan was simple: retrieve the bodies, and depending on the threat level, exit or engage and eliminate.
Since we didn't know what we were going to be facing, we were going in heavily armed. One shotgun each, plus 9 mm with hollow point and silver bullets, plus two extra clips, four sticks of dynamite, hand pick-ax and silver-plated daggers. I didn't tell anyone, but I had a Ruger mini-14 in my coat. (I'll explain that one later.) Plus, each man had a Dispel Spirits Amulet (3x per day), but not me.
I never trust front doors so we busted out the two windows on either side of it and went in, two men on each side. Daylight was coming in but the lights didn't work. When no one came over to see what the noise was all about, we moved on and cleared the first floor. Next, the basement. The smell of mildew hit us after we opened the door going down. And there was a sound of water dripping somewhere below. The stairs were taken one man at a time.
The basement had stone walls and was a labyrinth of rooms, empty rooms. Whatever was once in them, no clues, except a few cobwebs, were left behind. We found a large furnace and a giant water heater. It was dripping or should I say leaking water. I warned the men about not letting their guard down.
We continued back up the stairs, not talking, just communicating using hand signals. It was around this time that I began to think the bodies might not still be there. As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard a gurgling sound behind me. Glancing back, I thought I saw something on the basement floor. Swinging my flashligt around, I saw the basement filling with a red liquid. I stopped moving.
There was a hand on my shoulder, shaking me. I vaguely heard something.
"You OK? What's wrong? You OK?"
I turned around and it was Jack Herstler. I remember looking at him but unable to speak and he just kept saying...
"What's wrong? What is it?"
I turned around and the floor was dry as if nothing happened. Somehow, my training took over. "Take five men."
I explained what I had seen to everyone and asked if anyone else had heard the gurgling sound. I got no's all around. It was agreed that we should walk two abreast. We avoided the main staircase and decided to go to the back to take the servants' staircase. However, it also meant we'd have to go single file on the way up.
I was last. And as I climbed I felt some kind of moisture under my feet. Looking down with my flashlight I saw I was leaving bloody footprints behind. This time, when I poked Jack's shoulder, he saw it too.
"OK. The manifestations are increasing in intensity. No time to check if it's an illusion or not.
"Matt, put your weapon in front of you when you open the door at the top. Jim, get ready to pull him back if anything happens. Go!"
The door opened onto a massive ballroom.
"I've got circles on the floor!"
"How many?"
"Four! Two look new. The other two are dust covered and partly rubbed out!"
"Leave them! Do not get any closer! Men! Watch the area over your heads at all times!"
I swept the area with my flashlight, stopping at what I thought was a statue. It was a young woman in a turn of the century evening dress. She was slightly transparent. She looked up and a look of horror was on her face. The apparition ran into a wall.
"Break the wall open!"
We took our picks to it and uncovered a secret door. It opened out. One man would pull and the rest would train their lights and weapons on the interior.
No movement. Jack went in first. "I've got machinery in here! No bodies!"
It was a large room, not on my floor plan. The machinery looked like it was from the 1920s, and there was an eight foot tall piece of sheet metal with wires running to it, two to a side. It was shiny as if recently polished, while the equipment was covered in dust.
There was a voice from above my head. "Gentlemen, why are you breaking into a man's home?"
"Who are you?"
"Who am I? I should be the one asking that question!
"I have been here for so long and you are the ones disturbing me! Leave! Now!"
"We're here for the two others!"
"Oh, yes. Them. Unfortunate. They were very aggressive and I was unable to persuade them to leave. You will find their remains on the floor above. I trust you will leave immediately afterwards."
I felt a cold, icy wind brush past me. And the voice continued.
"Do no more damage to this house and you will remain alive. Understood?"
"Yeah!"
I ushered the team out and we cautiously moved up to the third floor. The machinery in the room we just left was occupying my mind. I've seen something like it before, but where?
Third floor. A series of rooms. A study, bedroom, wash room, bedroom, a library, empty room with a body. This was our man, except he did not appear dead, but asleep, just laying on the floor.
Somebody said, "Now what?"
"Step back in the hall, men." My head was going a mile a minute. Was this a trap? All CIA? Where was the other man? Stop. Think!
"If they wanted us dead we'd be dead by now. Let's get this man out in the hall and then find his partner."
He was dead alright. Cold as ice but not a mark on him. The air was starting to get colder. Footsteps. Something was coming.
"What's that?"
"Could be the dead man's partner." I could begin to make out a figure down the hall dressed the same as the body we just pulled out of the room, except he had a ghostly companion. I don't know why we just didn't open fire right away.
End part One. Part Two in a day or two.
Contact_21
Lazlo Agent
-
- Posts: 50
- Joined: Thu Dec 30, 2004 5:15 pm
- Location: Midwest
Part 2
Just a quick recap. I'm standing in a hallway with a three man team. We've just pulled a dead CIA operative out of a room, and his partner, who should be dead, is walking toward us.
"Who are you people? Where are our weapons?"
Suddenly, our first dead man gets up off the floor and grabs one of my men. Undead!
"Start talking mister."
"Listen. We came in here to get you guys out, except..."
"Except what?"
"I don't think you're going to believe this but both of you are dead."
They looked at each other and then back at me, both a little confused.
"Here. Grab my hand. Feel the warmth? Your skin is cold."
They were both in a mild state of shock. They stared off into space for a minute, and then back at me. "How is that possible.?"
"Do you remember your mission? I know you can't tell me but I've got a hunch whatever they told you to do and what was really supposed to happen were two different things."
I took out a picture of one of the guy's dad. "Your father gave me this for some reason."
He looked at it and looked at me. "Psy Ops is running this, aren't they?"
I didn't want to wreck a good coat but I let loose with a burst from my Ruger sub-machinegun, striking the dead man at near point-blank range. Startled everybody.
"You should be dead. Problem is, you already are."
"How do we get outta this mister? How?"
"I don't know if I can help you. I'm responsible for these three men, and I want us all to get out of here in one piece."
"This is impossible! We can't be dead and alive!"
"It's called magic, a magic ritual. Right now I'm thinking you two were part of an experiment in putting together a team that could go in and kill the bad guys, and not get killed yourself because..."
"Sorry. I don't think we're going to believe your story."
"That's fine. Now me and my men are getting out of here." They didn't try to stop us. Both of them just stared as we walked away.
Jack spoke first. "What's going to happen to them?"
"I don't know, but I think I just ruined their little experiment."
Vines began to come out of the walls. Just curving black lines with thorns. The Physical Psychics put up Mind Blocks and I prayed.
"Pick up the pace. Jack? Is this stuff real?"
"I don't think so!"
We were running now. A quick turn into a hallway and the doors in front of us were locked. Jack shot up the locks but nothing. Time for some TNT.
"You don't think the owner is going to let us leave if we blow up part of his house?"
"Jack, how many times have I got to tell you to never trust a disembodied voice?"
The doors blew open but our ears were ringing. This made it hard to hear the four short beings coming up from behind us. I felt a stabbing pain as three blade-like claws swiped my back. I dropped to the floor and rolled.
"Enemy behind you!" I turned and let loose with the Ruger, catching all four of them in a sweep, but they were tough. They were humanoid but had no heads. Three shotgun blasts over my head stopped three and I finished off the fourth.
"The cuts aren't bad, keep moving!" It's amazing what you can do when the adrenaline's flowing.
We made it to the second floor and I thought getting out a window might be an option.
"Iron bars on the windows!"
OK, time for plan B. "Listen up! Our options are being taken away from us. Just keep moving." I had to keep everyone focused and morale up.
Next, arms came out of the walls, trying to grab us. Everybody began twisting and turning like ballerinas. I kept firing bursts at any that got too close.
We were going down the back stairs to the first floor. My bloody footprints had disappeared. "Jack! I want you to fire through the door at the bottom!" He nodded in confirmation.
A few shotgun blasts at point-blank range and the door swung open. Then Jack was sent flying back onto the stairs after being hit by some "thing." I could barely make it out in the smoke but it was big, bulky and it roared. Everybody opened up on it. It seemed to be only staggered, just slightly injured.
I pulled off my coat and threw it over its demonic head. The next few seconds happened in slow motion. Two of us grabbed Jack and pulled him up the stairs so as not to get trampled. The third leapt onto the thing and used Dessication Touch. The thing howled and began to shrivel away.
Things were looking bad. I was losing blood and Jack was out cold. Jim hoisted Jack up to carry, leaving one unencumbered man free to take point. We were on the first floor and were heading for the front door, except a tiny man in a white lab coat was standing in our way.
"So, you foolish, foolish men think you are just going to leave?"
"That's right, shorty!" I pulled the trigger on the Ruger but I was out of ammo. The rest of the guys poured some rounds into him but it looked like he was Undead too.
He began his attack, knocking our point man out with a single punch. Two of us rushed him while blasting away. The gunshot wounds had hurt him a little but not enough. Somehow, I got my silver dagger out and stuck him with it. He just fell to the floor.
I was the only man still conscious. After dragging the other three men out, I reached for my cell, but it was gone. Fortunately, I found one on one of the men. The chopper came in just before I lost consciousness.
Epilogue
I was back in some little diner in some little town about three weeks later. I had some bad news for a man's father.
"We went in but resistence was pretty bad. I almost lost my team, and barely got out alive."
He looked at me like two war veterans look at each other when both of them know, intimately, what it's like to be in the field, terrified, doing whatver it takes to stay alive.
"So you couldn't get the bodies out?"
"No sir."
"But they were dead, right?"
"Yes sir. They were."
Contact_21
Lazlo Agent
Just a quick recap. I'm standing in a hallway with a three man team. We've just pulled a dead CIA operative out of a room, and his partner, who should be dead, is walking toward us.
"Who are you people? Where are our weapons?"
Suddenly, our first dead man gets up off the floor and grabs one of my men. Undead!
"Start talking mister."
"Listen. We came in here to get you guys out, except..."
"Except what?"
"I don't think you're going to believe this but both of you are dead."
They looked at each other and then back at me, both a little confused.
"Here. Grab my hand. Feel the warmth? Your skin is cold."
They were both in a mild state of shock. They stared off into space for a minute, and then back at me. "How is that possible.?"
"Do you remember your mission? I know you can't tell me but I've got a hunch whatever they told you to do and what was really supposed to happen were two different things."
I took out a picture of one of the guy's dad. "Your father gave me this for some reason."
He looked at it and looked at me. "Psy Ops is running this, aren't they?"
I didn't want to wreck a good coat but I let loose with a burst from my Ruger sub-machinegun, striking the dead man at near point-blank range. Startled everybody.
"You should be dead. Problem is, you already are."
"How do we get outta this mister? How?"
"I don't know if I can help you. I'm responsible for these three men, and I want us all to get out of here in one piece."
"This is impossible! We can't be dead and alive!"
"It's called magic, a magic ritual. Right now I'm thinking you two were part of an experiment in putting together a team that could go in and kill the bad guys, and not get killed yourself because..."
"Sorry. I don't think we're going to believe your story."
"That's fine. Now me and my men are getting out of here." They didn't try to stop us. Both of them just stared as we walked away.
Jack spoke first. "What's going to happen to them?"
"I don't know, but I think I just ruined their little experiment."
Vines began to come out of the walls. Just curving black lines with thorns. The Physical Psychics put up Mind Blocks and I prayed.
"Pick up the pace. Jack? Is this stuff real?"
"I don't think so!"
We were running now. A quick turn into a hallway and the doors in front of us were locked. Jack shot up the locks but nothing. Time for some TNT.
"You don't think the owner is going to let us leave if we blow up part of his house?"
"Jack, how many times have I got to tell you to never trust a disembodied voice?"
The doors blew open but our ears were ringing. This made it hard to hear the four short beings coming up from behind us. I felt a stabbing pain as three blade-like claws swiped my back. I dropped to the floor and rolled.
"Enemy behind you!" I turned and let loose with the Ruger, catching all four of them in a sweep, but they were tough. They were humanoid but had no heads. Three shotgun blasts over my head stopped three and I finished off the fourth.
"The cuts aren't bad, keep moving!" It's amazing what you can do when the adrenaline's flowing.
We made it to the second floor and I thought getting out a window might be an option.
"Iron bars on the windows!"
OK, time for plan B. "Listen up! Our options are being taken away from us. Just keep moving." I had to keep everyone focused and morale up.
Next, arms came out of the walls, trying to grab us. Everybody began twisting and turning like ballerinas. I kept firing bursts at any that got too close.
We were going down the back stairs to the first floor. My bloody footprints had disappeared. "Jack! I want you to fire through the door at the bottom!" He nodded in confirmation.
A few shotgun blasts at point-blank range and the door swung open. Then Jack was sent flying back onto the stairs after being hit by some "thing." I could barely make it out in the smoke but it was big, bulky and it roared. Everybody opened up on it. It seemed to be only staggered, just slightly injured.
I pulled off my coat and threw it over its demonic head. The next few seconds happened in slow motion. Two of us grabbed Jack and pulled him up the stairs so as not to get trampled. The third leapt onto the thing and used Dessication Touch. The thing howled and began to shrivel away.
Things were looking bad. I was losing blood and Jack was out cold. Jim hoisted Jack up to carry, leaving one unencumbered man free to take point. We were on the first floor and were heading for the front door, except a tiny man in a white lab coat was standing in our way.
"So, you foolish, foolish men think you are just going to leave?"
"That's right, shorty!" I pulled the trigger on the Ruger but I was out of ammo. The rest of the guys poured some rounds into him but it looked like he was Undead too.
He began his attack, knocking our point man out with a single punch. Two of us rushed him while blasting away. The gunshot wounds had hurt him a little but not enough. Somehow, I got my silver dagger out and stuck him with it. He just fell to the floor.
I was the only man still conscious. After dragging the other three men out, I reached for my cell, but it was gone. Fortunately, I found one on one of the men. The chopper came in just before I lost consciousness.
Epilogue
I was back in some little diner in some little town about three weeks later. I had some bad news for a man's father.
"We went in but resistence was pretty bad. I almost lost my team, and barely got out alive."
He looked at me like two war veterans look at each other when both of them know, intimately, what it's like to be in the field, terrified, doing whatver it takes to stay alive.
"So you couldn't get the bodies out?"
"No sir."
"But they were dead, right?"
"Yes sir. They were."
Contact_21
Lazlo Agent
-
- Posts: 2793
- Joined: Fri Jul 01, 2005 11:46 pm
- Location: Where needed
Sounds like a big problem still waiting to happen,any plans being made to return and deal with it before something decides to comeout and play. If you need heavy firesupport pm me my team has dealt with some stuff like this before thou I'd arrange for some spellslingers with big Mogo also backing you up. Just a thought ,good hunting to you and whatch your back.
To find the darkness you have walk in the shadows.
No offense Stalker, but it sounds to me like this guy can call on some heavy support if he needs it.
I think that if anyone here seriously needs that kind of support, it's those who can't call on it when they need it.
I think that if anyone here seriously needs that kind of support, it's those who can't call on it when they need it.
Overspecialization leads to getting the crap beaten out of you.
Unreliable backup leads to getting thrown through a shed.
Unreliable backup leads to getting thrown through a shed.
-
- Posts: 2793
- Joined: Fri Jul 01, 2005 11:46 pm
- Location: Where needed
-
- Posts: 50
- Joined: Thu Dec 30, 2004 5:15 pm
- Location: Midwest
Thanks for the offer. However, someone else solved the problem for us.
Extract: Observer Report 229-A
"Lazlo Agents on site observed military cargo transport plane drop FAE over target building. Target building incinerated."
The boys at the CIA don't like leaving loose ends, meaning any evidence of covert activities. Apparently, a Fuel Air Explosive was dropped over the old house to cover their tracks.
Contact_21
Lazlo Agent
Extract: Observer Report 229-A
"Lazlo Agents on site observed military cargo transport plane drop FAE over target building. Target building incinerated."
The boys at the CIA don't like leaving loose ends, meaning any evidence of covert activities. Apparently, a Fuel Air Explosive was dropped over the old house to cover their tracks.
Contact_21
Lazlo Agent
-
- Posts: 50
- Joined: Thu Dec 30, 2004 5:15 pm
- Location: Midwest
You misunderstand. Our people (Lazlo Agency) were watching the site so they could report any suspicious activity. It is my theory that the scientist inside the old house (who I had to take out) was their contact involving some experiments he was conducting. Somehow, for whatever the reason, two of their people were sent in and ended up Undead. I'm not sure that was intentional. In any case, me and my team got away. When they didn't hear from their scientist contact, they decided it was time to close up shop permanently.
Lazlo Agents do not have direct access to any official military aircraft like cargo planes.
Contact_21
Lazlo Agent
Lazlo Agents do not have direct access to any official military aircraft like cargo planes.
Contact_21
Lazlo Agent
-
- Posts: 252
- Joined: Mon Mar 14, 2005 8:41 pm
- Location: Springfield, Misery
I've got a network of contacts, but I work alone, myself. To boot, I don't have a happy amount of ordinance to back me up, even when there have been times I needed a good explosion. Still, it's nice living a block away from a gun store...
"The pious pretense that evil does not exist only makes it vague, enormous and menacing."
-Aleister Crowley
-Aleister Crowley