Before The Soulrender Takes His Toll

Chapter 4: How I Escaped Goebbels's Mind Prison

As the first ethereal tendrils of sunlight embraced the room, gradually dispersing the remnants of the night's shadows, I stirred from my slumber. I hesitantly ventured out of bed, a sense of safety briefly enveloping me. If only it could have endured. Drawing back the curtains, I gazed upon the cityscape below, its tranquility juxtaposed against the ominous undercurrents that lurked in the recesses of my mind.
Suddenly, my mother roused from her sleep, her eyes blinking away the remnants of dreams. "What are you doing here?" she inquired, her voice tinged with confusion. I turned around, a smile forming on my lips. "Mom, you're awake!" I crossed the room, eager to embrace her and express my gratitude for providing me solace in a world fraught with darkness. However, to my shock, she slapped my gesture away, a callous unfamiliar force replacing the warmth that had once emanated from her touch. That was not the mother I knew. She had never resorted to violence, regardless of the burdens she carried.
"M-Mom, what's wrong?" I stammered, my heart racing in my chest. Her gaze met mine, with annoyance etched across her features. "Why are you even here? Did I permit you to invade my sanctuary and disrupt my peace?" I stood frozen, attempting to comprehend the magnitude of this strange behavior. Could it be a jest, a momentary lapse in her usual affectionate nature? I tried to shrug it off, feigning nonchalance. "Oh, Mom, you know why. You allowed me to seek refuge here, away from the clutches of Hitler," I replied, desperately clinging to the hope that this was all an elaborate game.
To my dismay, my mother scoffed dismissively. "Hitler? Why would I shield you from him? He is, in fact, my favorite person and the future master of your soul!" The words hung in the air, each syllable laced with evil intention. A chill coursed down my spine, and my thoughts raced. She was not my mother. It was a distorted presence, a manifestation of Hitler's dark powers that had insidiously invaded her being.
"M-Mom, this isn't you!" I shouted, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. "Hitler is using his insidious influence to manipulate your thoughts and actions!" In an instant, the face masquerading as my mother's contorted into an evil grin, the facade crumbling to reveal the true identity lurking beneath. And there, standing before me, was Goebbels himself, an embodiment of wickedness and deceit. "J-Joseph Goebbels!" I exclaimed, my voice trembling with both fear and defiance. At that moment, I felt the weight of my powerlessness, for I had yet to unlock the full extent of my abilities, leaving me unsure of how to thwart his sinister plans.
"Ah, but of course, my dear," Goebbels sneered, celebrating his premature victory. His grin oozed malevolence, the embodiment of all the darkness he represented. "You have grasped the truth, albeit too late. You shall find no refuge from my insidious powers. They are tailor-made to dismantle your very sanity!"
His words sent a chill down my spine, but I refused to succumb to the fear creeping within me. I held my ground, understanding the nature of his abilities. "Illusions," I murmured, my gaze fixed upon the ground before lifting it to meet his gaze. "Your powers embody the deception and manipulation you propagated in life. They amplify those qualities in a manner both terrifying and repulsive." I pointed a finger toward him, with my voice laced with determination. "But mark my words, Goebbels, I shall not fall victim to your treacherous machinations!"
Narrowing my eyes, I questioned him, my voice steady despite the underlying tremor. "Did you truly expect me to believe that my mother would willingly deliver me into the clutches of Hitler?" Doubt flickered in his eyes, a momentary crack in his facade of superiority. Goebbels chuckled with an unsettling mix of amusement and malice. "My dear Angel, that was a mere glimpse into the depths of my power! Once I unleash its full might upon you, you shall be forever lost within the twisted labyrinth of fantasy and reality!" His voice reverberated through the air, tinged with a sadistic delight.
Yet, I remained steadfast, determination fueling my resolve. "No," I declared firmly, refusing to bow to Goebbels's tricks. "I will not yield to your deceptions!"
Goebbels's eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "Oh, you believe yourself immune, do you? It is because you have not yet witnessed the true extent of my POWER!" With an emphatic gesture, he extended his arms, and the surroundings morphed before my eyes. The room dissolved into a dimly lit alley, leaving me isolated and vulnerable.
I cupped my hands to my mouth, calling out into the eerie stillness. "Hello? Is anyone there?" My voice echoed off the walls, unanswered. Tentatively, I ventured forward, a glimmer of hope that someone might emerge, offering solace in this foreboding realm. Yet, as if in response to my yearning, footsteps emanated from beyond the alley.
My heart quickened, and I turned towards the approaching sound, desperate for companionship in this bewildering nightmare. A figure materialized, and my breath caught in my throat. Loretta... I thought, disbelief mingling with longing. It was my sister, unmistakably so, but a voice of caution whispered in my mind, reminding me of Goebbels's deceptive powers.
"Loretta!" I called out, a surge of emotion propelling me towards her, yearning to embrace the sister I had lost long ago. However, my outstretched arms passed through her ethereal form, leaving me empty-handed and bewildered. I glanced at her with sorrow and resignation, acknowledging that she was only an illusion.
As I prepared to move on, the heavy thud of footsteps resonated behind me. Dread coiled in the pit of my stomach as I turned to face the approaching figure. The shock was undeniable. Skorzeny... I thought, horror and anguish intertwining within me. Goebbels was subjecting me to relive the night of Loretta's tragic demise.
Skorzeny closed in on the unsuspecting illusion of Loretta. Though I knew she could not hear me, I screamed out in futile desperation, "Loretta, look out!" My desperate plea hung in the air, an echo of my pain, as Skorzeny's grip tightened around her throat. Loretta's gasps for air grew desperate and strained as Skorzeny's iron grip tightened around her throat. She clawed at his fingers, her kicks becoming feeble attempts to break free. A surge of helplessness welled within me as I screamed. My voice was raw with anguish, knowing my cries would not save her. Consumed by a feral, bloodthirsty madness, Otto continued to choke the life out of my dear sister.
The image of his deranged expression seared into my memory—an embodiment of pure terror. Even now, I can recall the haunting intensity in his eyes as he snuffed out Loretta's existence. The light dimmed within her eyes, replaced by an empty void. Her head fell back, and her hands, once desperately clawing at Skorzeny's hand, slowly slipped away, hanging limp at her sides.
"No..." The word escaped my lips in a trembling whisper. She was gone. Irreversible loss crashed over me, and I sank to my knees, tears streaming down my face. The weight of grief pressed upon my chest, threatening to suffocate me. How could Goebbels be so ruthless, so callously cruel?
Then, amidst the ruins of my shattered world, a resolve ignited within me. I lifted my tear-stained face, defiance flickering in my eyes. I would not let Loretta's death be in vain. I would seek justice, no matter the cost. The indomitable spirit of determination took hold as I locked gazes with Skorzeny, understanding that he was merely a pawn in the hands of the Nazis.
"I will avenge Lori," I vowed silently, every fiber of myself dedicated to that singular purpose. For the innocent lives snuffed out by their evil, I would fight. Even if it meant sacrificing everything, I would stand against the darkness that plagued our world. I stood tall, facing the illusion of Otto, determined to make my words reach beyond the confines of his twisted reality. "Otto, even if you cannot hear me, I swear on my sister's memory that I will avenge her," I declared, my voice filled with unwavering resolve. As the words left my lips, Otto's head snapped toward me, locking eyes with mine, emanating a chilling intensity. A shiver ran down my spine, and I cautiously glanced around, hoping against hope that his gaze was directed at someone else. Yet, to my dismay, there was no one else present.
At that moment, the illusion of Otto transformed into a relentless pursuer. Without hesitation, I bolted out of the alley, my heart pounding like a drum. My feet splashed through puddles, drenching my once-beloved pink Star Wars pajamas. Glancing over my shoulder, a surge of panic coursed through me as I saw Skorzeny running at an alarming speed. He moved with an unnatural ease, not a hint of exertion upon his face, while I struggled to keep going, my legs protesting with each step.
"Gotcha now, you thorn in the Fuhrer's side!" Skorzeny's triumphant voice echoed behind me as he reached out, his hand eager to seize me. In a desperate surge of adrenaline, I pushed my body to its limits, fighting against the overwhelming fatigue. Every breath burned in my lungs, and my pace began to falter. But I refused to surrender.
"No!" I screamed, my voice laden with desperation, trying to press forward. With each pounding step, I prayed for a miracle. Yet, just as Skorzeny grabbed my arm, the scene around us shifted abruptly, tearing me away from the clutches of his deadly grip. The setting morphed into a barren country road, stretching out into the unknown. My eyes darted around, desperately seeking any signs of life or solace. I contemplated venturing forth in search of assistance when the distant sound of a car reached my ears. Instinctively, I stepped aside, intending to let it pass by. However, as the vehicle came closer, a haunting melody flooded the air. "Scar Tissue." My heart skipped a beat. It was the same song from that fateful night— the night my father's life was brutally stolen by Hitler.
My hands trembled, and I could feel the weight of grief pressing upon my chest. Yet, before my eyes, the car began to swerve uncontrollably. A string of curses pierced the air, and I recognized the voice. I tried to look away, to shield myself from reliving the painful memories. An unseen force compelled me to face the tragedy unfolding before me. It was Goebbels exerting his power to manipulate my gaze, just as Hitler had driven my father's car to its doom. Helplessly, I watched the vehicle lose all semblance of control, hurtling toward its catastrophic fate.
"N-no! Dad!" I screamed, a surge of anguish surging through my veins. I couldn't bear to witness the aftermath of yet another loss. My instincts propelled me to flee, my feet carrying me away through the field, attempting to distance myself from the horrors of the past. However, a vice-like grip clamped down on my arm, wrenching me to a halt. I fought back, but my futile attempts were met with unyielding resistance. I dared to glance behind me, and there he stood— Skorzeny, the embodiment of cruelty and torment. I kicked at him with every ounce of strength, desperate to escape his clutches. But it was as if his limbs were forged from steel, unyielding to my feeble resistance. At that moment, when despair threatened to engulf me, the scene shifted once more, wrenching me from Skorzeny's grip. The new setting materialized before me, a stark hospital environment. Sensing a presence gripping my arm, I turned to find myself face-to-face with a concerned female doctor. Her expression mirrored surprise as if I had witnessed something unearthly. Disoriented from my harrowing experiences, I reassured myself, realizing that I must have passed out and my mother brought me here for medical attention. "I-I'm okay," I stammered, trying to compose myself. "Do you know where Lynette Cohen is? She's my mom, and I need to find her."
The doctor's demeanor shifted, sympathy flickering in her gaze. Putting a gentle hand on my shoulder, she spoke compassionately. "You must be Angeliana Cohen's older sister. I'm truly sorry for what you're going through." Confusion crept into my mind. "A-Angel Cohen? What do you mean?" I questioned, perplexed by her words. Without delay, the doctor motioned for me to follow, leading me down the corridor.
Suddenly, the shrill sound of a flatlining monitor pierced the air, and my mother burst out of a nearby hospital room, her face contorted in anguish. "We need a doctor!" she cried out, her voice filled with desperation. A team of medical professionals rushed into the room, but I couldn't see what unfolded within. A peculiar realization struck me—the woman standing beside me remained still, unaffected by the chaos. Her countenance twisted into a smirk as she spoke, sending chills down my spine. "Take a glimpse into that room if you dare," she taunted.
A revelation dawned upon me. "You're not a doctor..." I murmured, barely audible. She turned to face me, shedding her disguise to reveal Goebbels himself. In his unsettling voice, he jeered, "That's right! How do you like my mind prison? I've trapped you in your torment, forced to relive the darkest moments of your life. Isn't it splendid?"
"No, it's not splendid!" I mustered my defiance, refusing to succumb to his illusions any longer. Goebbels chuckled darkly, relishing in his sadistic power. "Well, my dear, it seems you're too late. You shall never escape my illusions!" Before I could protest further, Goebbels waved his hands, and I found myself propelled through the corridor by an unseen force. Eventually, I came to a halt, standing in another hospital room. Doctors scrambled frantically, performing CPR on what appeared to be a young girl. I leaned closer, only to recoil in utter shock and disgust. Goebbels had crossed a line. This was no illusion of a past tragedy. This was me, lying motionless on the bed, a victim of Hitler's poison-induced strep infection. I watched helplessly as the medical team fought to save my life, only to declare me dead. Tears welled in my eyes as I witnessed my mother's anguished sobs, witnessing the finality of my demise as they covered my lifeless form with a white sheet.
Turning away from the heart-wrenching scene, I confronted Goebbels, his toothy smile brimming with satisfaction. Fury coursed through my veins as I lunged forward, landing a punch aimed at his vile presence. Yet, he vanished in an instant, reappearing behind me. Still wearing his wicked smile, he waved his hands, manipulating the fabric of reality once more. This time, I knew all too well what awaited me. I was in a lush tropical landscape gazing at the magnificent blue ocean. A sinking feeling settled within me as I turned around, and there she was—my mother, sitting peacefully on a balcony, unaware of the impending tragedy. Deep down, I knew what was about to unfold. Suddenly, a section of the balcony gave way, and my heart raced as I watched my mother tumble and scream, failing to grasp the railing in her descent. The sickening thud reached my ears, but my vantage point denied me the full view of the aftermath. Horror coursed through my veins, but I refused to let Goebbels provoke a reaction. This was all a fabrication. I would face whatever twisted illusion he conjured next with unwavering resolve.
Goebbels's voice reverberated through the surroundings, chilling me to the core. "You won't be able to handle the next illusion..." I scoffed inwardly, refusing to succumb to his mind games. The scene seamlessly shifted once more, now finding myself being guided by Goebbels through a dimly lit corridor illuminated by flickering candles. I pondered where our path would lead us, bracing myself for the unknown. Eventually, we arrived at an imposing door. Goebbels knocked three times before it swung open, revealing Hitler standing at the forefront of the room. A palpable sense of pride emanated from the dictator's countenance as he acknowledged Goebbels. "Ah, I see you've brought her! Your efforts shall be rewarded generously," Hitler praised, his gaze shifting towards me with a withering intensity. Tremors coursed through my body as I quivered under his piercing stare. "You must be wondering why you're here! I tasked my loyal subject, Goebbels, with shattering your spirit through illusions and bringing you before me to claim your soul, once and for all!"
Was this reality? Had Goebbels halted his illusions, delivering me directly into Hitler's clutches? Before I could dwell further on the terrifying implications, Hitler seized me by the throat, draining the essence of my being with unimaginable agony. My screams reverberated through the room as I believed my end had come. Yet, amidst the torment, something peculiar caught my attention. A giggle escaped my lips, morphing into chuckles that eventually erupted into uncontrollable laughter. Bewilderment replaced Hitler's grip as he released his hold on me, and in my gasping breaths, I continued to laugh.
Turning to face Goebbels, I pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Really, Goebbels? Did you honestly expect me to fall for this? You don't even bother to error-check your own illusions!" I taunted, finding solace in exposing his flaws. Goebbels's face twisted with offense. "E-error-check? How dare you insult me, Jew?" he spat venomously. Determined to prove my point, I pressed on. "Anyone who has seen a picture of Hitler knows he always parts his hair on the right side, with his bangs sweeping to the left. Yet, Goebbels, you've mistakenly styled his hair parted on the left side, with his bangs sweeping to the right!" I gestured towards Hitler's head, reveling in my revelation. "See?" I declared triumphantly.
Goebbels's expression morphed into one of sheer horror and mortification. In his desperate attempts to safeguard his soul from Hitler's wrath, he inadvertently made a fundamental error, exposing the cracks in his illusion. I was elated, knowing that not only was my soul safeguarded, but I had outwitted Goebbels. Emboldened by this realization, I approached him with confidence. "Hitler wasn't truly here. So, what about YOU? Are you even real, or just another figment conjured by the true Joseph Goebbels, cowering in a corner, desperately seeking favor from his leader?" I locked eyes with him, my gaze defiant. "Not-Goebbels, you've likely been orchestrating these illusions since the Loretta episode! Perhaps you were even the one speaking through my mother at home. And those kids at Barnes & Noble who gave me the book—they were likely your illusions too! Tell me the truth. Is it all true?" I turned away dismissively, waving my hand. "No, you're Joseph Goebbels. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't speak the truth. Lies and manipulation are your realms!" I glanced back at him. Not-Goebbels glared at me, his forehead vein bulging with fury. "You... You little, overreaching Jewish witch! How dare you?" Goebbels spat venomously.
His hurtful words sailed past me, having no impact. "I admit it! It was all a charade! I reveal this to you because what unfolds next will be far from deceitful!" Instantly, the scene shifted, transporting me to a circular, arena-like space with Joseph Goebbels standing before me. "Now, young Angel, you shall face the wrath of the great JOSEPH GOEBBELS!" he declared, unleashing a powerful blast of pure magic in my direction. My reflexes kicked in, allowing me to dodge it narrowly. I grimaced, realizing the daunting challenge that lay ahead. My dormant powers had yet to awaken. "Great, this is going to be a difficult fight... My abilities remain dormant," I lamented silently.
Goebbels swirled his arms, conjuring illusions of himself—an archetypal move from his playbook. The replicas darted around me, aiming to bewilder and confuse me. Disoriented and dizzy, I stumbled, struggling to discern the real Goebbels from his illusions. Suddenly, the genuine Goebbels launched another magical attack at me, causing me to double over in pain. He seized the opportunity, intending to render me unconscious and deliver me into the clutches of Hitler. As he unleashed his magical assault, an extraordinary phenomenon unfolded. A radiant pink light enveloped me, causing Goebbels to recoil as though my luminosity burned him. I glanced down, marveling at my glowing hands, realizing I possessed extraordinary power. Focusing my energy, I channeled it into a concentrated blast of magic, ready to retaliate. I unleashed my magic, directing them precisely, striking Goebbels squarely in the chest. "NOOOOOO!" Goebbels screamed, hurtling backward. In an instant, the illusions vanished, transporting me back to the familiar surroundings of my mother's room. She was peacefully asleep. I hurried over and shook her awake. "Mom, you won't believe what happened! Goebbels created terrifying illusions, but I outsmarted him! We fought, and my powers awakened, saving me!" My mother's eyes widened, enveloping me in a tight embrace. "Baby, I always knew you had it in you! You're one step closer to defeating them!" she exclaimed. At that moment, a sense of tranquility washed over me. I was at peace, despite knowing another Nazi was on the way.
Meanwhile, Goebbels returned to Hitler's menacing throne room. He was battered and empty-handed. Skorzeny, Goering, and Himmler awaited his arrival. Observing my absence, Hitler erupted, pounding his fists on the arms of his malevolent throne. "WHERE IS SHE?" he thundered. His yell caused the very walls to tremble. Understanding the implications of his failure, Goebbels struggled to find the right words. "We-well, she was... Mein Fuhrer, Angel proved resilient. Not only did she possess mental sharpness, but she also unleashed powers... Potent ones..." Hitler seethed with rage. He rose from his seat, towering over Goebbels. "WHAT? YOU FAILED TO BRING HER TO ME BEFORE HER POWERS MANIFESTED?" Goebbels nervously wrung his clammy hands. "There will be other opportunities-" "SILENCE!" Hitler interrupted sharply. "My sole desire was for you to deliver her defenseless! Now she has discovered the light that is the scourge of our existence!" Hitler's gaze, filled with terror-inducing intensity, pierced through Goebbels. "And do you know the price you must pay?" Hitler smirked. "Y-yes..." Goebbels replied in a small, terrified voice. Hitler approached him, causing Goebbels to instinctively retreat in fear. "Nein. NEIN! Please, don't do this!" Goebbels pleaded, but Hitler paid no heed. He unsheathed a dagger and swiftly slit Goebbels's throat. Goebbels's lifeless body collapsed, and Hitler claimed his soul. Wiping the blood from the blade on his uniform, he dared anyone else to falter. "I shall personally visit the home of Angeliana Cohen! Her soul will be mine!" With that proclamation, Hitler vanished.
Sitting on my mother's bed, I contemplated the past day. Suddenly, the ultimate nightmare materialized before me—Hitler himself. My mother, sitting beside me, gasped in sheer terror. I rose to my feet, desperately willing my powers to resurface, but they remained unresponsive. "C'mon..." I whispered, my gaze fixated on my trembling palms. Fear coursed through my veins as I lifted my eyes to meet Hitler's gaze, witnessing the wild, bloodthirsty fervor burning within them. Goebbels's blood casually smeared on Hitler's uniform sent chills of fear down my spine. Before I could react, my mother sprang into action, positioning herself protectively between me and the terrifying dictator. "Mom, I can handle this," I assured her, mustering the courage to step forward and confront Hitler directly. I had devised a plan—a risky, dangerous plan. Trembling voice betraying my fear, I proposed, "Hitler, how about we engage in a little friendly wager?"