The Barbaric Soul

By Evan Sackett

James Underwood had always been a successful, ordinary person. And when he got a job offer to move to Jamesburg, Ohio, he thought this would only enhance his life. Little did he know that there was an evil that was waiting for him there - an evil that wanted to take his perfect life and transform him into a monster...

An evil soul can turn a good soul into a dark one. An evil soul can turn a good soul into The Barbaric Soul.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 4, 2010
• ISBN: 9781450204897

Evan Sackett

Evan Sackett is an author and founder of the web-site www.visualcirle.org where anyone can have their writings posted. He attended Roane State College in Tennessee and holds a degree in Criminal Justice. He lives in Knoxville, Tennessee.

Book preview

1

A family is beautiful. It laughs with you and demands every ounce of your attention – all the while sucking your soul dry. That, at least, was Josef Heike’s opinion. He had had a family for 18 years. Josef felt very strongly that he’d been through hell, but when he looked at where he was now, he saw nothing but a family. It seemed absurd to him to think that he had traveled such a long journey to end up being an average American family man. However, Josef kept in his mind the fact that he was raising up this family for a particular reason. His family would be an essential ingredient for him to complete his masterpiece…his most brilliant work.

Josef Wolfgang Heike was born in Germany in 1921. He was in Europe during the reign of the 3rd Reich and joined the Nazi Party in 1941. Those were confusing times for the young Heike. He was taught hatred towards the Jews, Americans, and many other groups that fell under Hitler’s sadistic wrath. But Heike was not interested in hatred. He was only interested in living his life and doing what was best for him at the time. For most people in Europe during that time, it was in their best interest to bow down to Hitler. And this is exactly what he did. World War 2 broke out around the same time that he had joined the Nazis, but Heike was not placed in the military. Instead, he was placed in the S.S. and sent to Auschwitz Death Camp in 1942.

Heike began as a guard at Auschwitz. He witnessed hundreds of thousands of murders, torture sessions, and barbaric brutalities. He had first arrived there a human being. But when Heike left Auschwitz in 1945, he was a hardened and sadistic animal. He had come to not only witness, but take part in the murders and torture sessions that took place. At first, he was sickened by the things he saw at Auschwitz. Overtime, he slowly grew attracted to them. But when the camp was liberated in 1945, he calmly surrendered to the Americans and was sent to a P.O.W. camp for 9 months.

During his time at the P.O.W. camp, he endured beatings and humiliation by the American guards. They especially hated S.S. officers. When Heike was finally freed, he had developed an ultimate hatred for Americans, not to mention that there was no humanity left in his black soul. Heike moved to Switzerland in 1946 at the age of 25 where he met his future wife, a beautiful young Italian girl named Isabella Rosalina.

In early 1947, Josef Heike and Isabella Rosalina were married. From 1947 to 1951, Isabella and Heike lived a modest life. He worked odd jobs and she worked as a florist in her father’s flower shop. They made a living, but they were still struggling. It was Isabella’s father’s dream to see his daughter move to America. So, in 1952, Heike and Isabella decided to move to the land of opportunity: America.

They arrived in New York City and settled into a small town in Northern New York State. Heike soon took a job as an assistant accountant and they started making a descent living. In 1953, they moved to Ohio and Isabella became pregnant with twins. In 1954, Isabella gave birth to two beautiful identical twin sisters: Annabel and Celina. And from 1954 until 1970, Heike continued working in Ohio as an accountant and Isabella stayed at home raising their 2 children.

In 1969, the Heike’s moved to southern Ohio, to a town named Jamesburg. Heike had enough credit to buy a two-story, three bedroom home on an upper-middle class neighborhood street named Bolder Drive. The home was beautiful. Annabel and Celina were very intelligent and did well in high school. His wife was a magnificent homemaker. Everything was perfect. At least, that was how it seemed.

But Josef Heike was starting to experience a problem in the midst of his success. He didn’t believe in living to self-indulge. He felt that all men have a purpose to accomplish something. He had been living as an accountant for years, but deep inside, he felt he was a phony; for he had, since the age of 15, been an artist… a painter. His love for art had been stumped for most of his life. Working as an accountant was not work – it was just a job. Painting…that was his work. And he felt that the time was past-due for him to accomplish something in this beloved field of his.

When Heike was in the S.S., he painted all of the time. It was more than a hobby to him. It was truly his passion. He tried many times to sell his paintings, but he only painted abstract, which was not very popular at the time. He couldn’t sell one painting; therefore, he couldn’t make a living doing what he loved. Overtime, personal problems arose which consumed his time and blocked his creative thinking. He stopped painting for years after he left the S.S. He had just begun to retain his skills of being an artist in the last couple of years since the Vietnam War had erupted. He was determined to paint continually, again. But this time, he was ready to paint his ultimate piece. He was prepared to create a work that would never be forgotten…

Jamesburg, Ohio: Wednesday, May 1st, 1970

The Heike home was not very large, but was quite immaculate. The yard’s grass was mowed once a week and always appeared fresh and green. There were beautiful rose bushes that lied in front of the house that Isabella had planted and raised herself. The inside of the home was spotless, neat, and filled with old antique furniture that had been in Josef and Isabella’s families for years. But Josef’s favorite part of the home was the dining room.

The dining room was right next to the kitchen and consisted of a black marble dining table and four seats. Every night, the family sat at the table and ate dinner. This evening was no exception. The Heike’s all sat around the dinner table and ate their 6:00 P.M. dinner. Although Isabella usually prepared dinner, Josef had prepared it on this particular night. They were having pork roast, which was Josef’s specialty. He hardly ever cooked, but occasionally, he would prepare one of his roasts, and the family relished the event that he did.

Josef was wearing his usual dress clothes: a white shirt and black tie. He also wore thick, black, and gaudy glasses over his eyes. He looked very much like most respectable fathers did in 1970. His stature, however, had become unusually large over the years. His arms were thick and muscular; his body was stout and firm. This accounted for his heavy weight which had recently hit 239 pounds. This matched his equally large height, which had reached nearly 6’4.

Isabella had been a beautiful woman all of her life. Her Italian descent accounted for her olive skin, her long brunette hair, and her curved body. Her age was showing, but her beauty remained.

The twins were equally beautiful. They resembled their mother, and were virtually identical, despite the fact that they were fraternal, not identical twins. Their hair was also brown and their skin was olive as well. Although Josef and Isabella spoke with southern European accents, the twins possessed American dialects.

So, how was school today, girls? Isabella asked the twins.

Alright, but I’m bored with it. So is Celina, Annabel said.

It’s almost time for you to graduate. Another few weeks, and you’re off to college, Josef stated in his poor English with a strong German accent.

Josef, this roast is wonderful, Isabella commented nicely to her husband.

Well, thank you. I always try to do a good job on the roasts. The one thing I can cook!

There was like a huge arrest of a bunch of protesters in Washington today. I saw it on the television, Celina stated.

All of that business is just absolutely ridiculous, don’t you think Josef? In our day, war was a part of life. I remember my brother. He was so eager to join the army to defend Europe that he almost killed himself trying to get to the office to enlist. But, sadly, he ended up giving all for his nation, Isabelle stated.

This war in Vietnam, it is all uncalled for, but it’s tearing this country apart. That Lyndon Johnson escalated it. Kennedy was going to end it, but he was shot, obviously. Then, Johnson took office and sent us right into that war in 1966. Nixon’s trying to get all of this straightened out, but he’s having a time with it.

All of them were drinking red tea, except for Josef. He was drinking a glass of German beer. He had prepared the Red Cherry Tea for them himself.

I like this cherry tea, it’s good, Celina said as she picked up her glass and took a huge drink of it.

Annabelle continued eating her food, but she was beginning to feel a little sick. She slowly started feeling nauseous and dizzy-headed. Isabelle looked across the table and could tell something was wrong with her daughter.

Annabelle, are you alright dear? Isabelle asked her daughter, but just as she did, she, herself, began feeling nauseous.

Isabelle sat down her fork, putting her arms on her stomach. Annabelle stopped eating and began leaning forward also. Celina was still eating and feeling fine until she had a sudden rush of extreme dizziness which caused her to drop her fork.

Honey, HONEY! Something’s wrong! I don’t feel right! Isabelle said loudly to Josef as she started leaning further and further forward until she slipped out of her chair and fell onto the floor.

Celina tried to stand up to shake the dizziness out of her head, but when she tried to stand up, her legs became like rubber and she fell onto the floor. Annabelle was still sitting in her chair, but she was so nauseous that she couldn’t speak. She looked over at her father and was shocked to see that even after his entire family had fallen into the floor; he was still sitting at the table eating his dinner.

Celina and Josef shared a moment of eye contact. He stared at her with his eyes that said he knew what was going on. Annabelle, hopeless and in a state of confusion, couldn’t understand why her father seemed so calm and careless. She eventually lost her equilibrium and fell onto the floor.

Josef took a few more sips off of his beer and then got up. He took a step back and examined his entire family which now lay on the floor like three dead dogs. Josef reached into his pocket and took out a small baggy containing a white substance that he held up and examined. It was crushed morphine.

When Josef was preparing the Cherry Tea, he spiked it with the morphine. He was prescribed morphine for a leg injury he had received while at the P.O.W. camp that had been plaguing him for all his life since. But he wasn’t sure what he was doing when he spiked the drink. He didn’t know how much would just knock them out and not kill them. But it seemed to have worked out the way he wanted it to, for now.

After he had driven his entire family out of consciousness, Josef began pulling them into the living room, one at a time. It was much harder than he has anticipated. After he had completed this task, he then walked outside to his garage and grabbed a large suitcase. He brought the suitcase inside and laid it on the living room floor to open it. In the case were supplies that he had been acquiring over the last couple of months. He had a hack saw, liquid super-weld, several sets of handcuffs, shackles, diapers, and some vials of a powerful, paralyzing injectable drug called Porgatrine. He acquired the Porgatrine by going to a local vet and claiming that he needed a tranquilizer for some horses. Although it was against policy to sell a civilian a controlled veterinary drug, Josef succeeded in smooth talking the vet.

He had everything figured out; he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He knew this because for the last two years, it had been on his mind. All day at the office, all evening at home – it was all he thought about. First, he was going to strip Celina and Annabelle down to their underwear and put diapers on them. Then, he was going to take them to their bedrooms, shackle them to their beds, and inject them with Porgatrine. Over the next month, he would slowly starve them to death. Because Isabelle was good at persuading him since she had more or less been the dominant member of the household, he decided to kill her immediately. And so, he began.

Josef undressed Celina, put a diaper on her, and carried her to her bedroom. He placed her on the bed and handcuffed her hands and ankles. He then ran shackles through the handcuffs and securely locked the shackles onto the bed’s metal frame with a steel lock. Afterwards, he did the same to Annabelle. He was going to inject them with Porgatrine, but he had a limited supply of the drug, and they appeared to be sedated adequately for now. So he refrained from injecting the twins with the drug.

The girls were now imprisoned in their own rooms. He had them taken care of. But he had a different plan in store for his wife. His daughters would become part of his exhibit once they had been starved and put through hell, but he was ready to make a work of art out of his wife now. So, Josef carried her to their bedroom and sat her in a wooden rocking chair that they had had since they had got married.

Josef decided to go on and begin his work on Isabella. She wouldn’t stay up in the chair he had placed her in – her limp body kept falling over to the side. This was what he had bought the liquid weld for. He opened the jar of weld and smeared large amounts of it on the chair’s arms. Afterwards, he positioned her arms on top of the weld-smeared chair arms. The liquid weld hardened extremely fast, within minutes, securing her arms to the chair. He then ripped open the back of her shirt so that her skin was exposed and smeared some on her bare back. He then pressed her back against the chair. He figured that this would be enough to keep her stable.

Josef waited for half an hour for the weld to dry before he did anything else. After he felt it had dried enough, he got Isabella’s head in a headlock and turned it 180 degrees, snapping her neck. This killed her instantly. He was now ready to begin his post-mortem work. Taking the hacksaw in hand, he positioned it at the bottom of Isabella’s neck and began sawing.

Josef sawed for nearly an hour. It was much harder than he had imagined. Sawing through the first few inches had been fairly easy, but once he had hit the spinal column, it began to get tough. Eventually, he managed to saw the head off entirely. One thing that he had not thought about was the tremendous mess that would be made while doing this. There was blood all over the corpse of his wife – blood that ran from the stump of her head. Josef had originally planned to glue her head to her lap, but he changed in his mind once he saw how bloody the body was. He tossed the head behind the queen size bed, throwing it like a book he wanted to get out of his way. It didn’t really matter to him since he was going to be sealing off the room anyway.

Josef left the corpse of Isabella as it was in the chair. He then turned out the light and closed the bedroom door. He stuffed some towels in the crack of the bottom of the door to block out the smell that would develop. He was very disappointed; he wasn’t able to do what he had wanted to do with his wife’s body. But this did not discourage him – not by any means. It only motivated him to make sure that he did his best with his twin daughters. They would make his work masterful. Josef was sure of that.

He glanced at his wristwatch. It was 8:20 P.M. He had been in the bedroom working on his wife’s corpse for nearly two hours. He was exhausted from all of the sawing. So, Josef was about to go into the living room to sit on the couch when he heard a blood-curdling scream come from Celina’s bedroom.

Goddamn, the bitch must be awake, Josef thought to himself. He slowly walked toward Celina’s bedroom door and opened it. Celina was twisting and turning on her bed. She savagely jerked her hands, trying to get them through the cuffs. But the shackles and handcuffs held her very still; there was nothing that she could do to free herself.

Josef approached his daughter, taking a seat on her bed. He stared down at her with a monstrously cold smile on his face. It was then that Celina realized that her father had done this to her.

How are you, baby? Josef asked in a sarcastic tone.

Why? Why are you doing this Daddy? Celina asked in tears.

You know, your sister is in her room, too. Your mother is in her bedroom also. I’m sorry, but we must go from this existence. Had we continued the way we were, we would be nothing. We would die and not be remembered. But this way…this way we will all be remembered. We will be immortal in the minds of all. You are so beautiful, and I can’t let that go to waste, Josef said as he ran his fingers across Celina’s face.

Stop it! Celina shouted as she tried to jerk her head away from Josef’s hand.

But, you don’t understand! You are just a liar, a manipulator! You are only pretending to be my little girl! Soon, you’d leave for college. You would meet some wonderful young man and fall in love. He would come over every night and slip his vile cock into your virgin mound! You would marry him and have children. You would live your life in harmony and forget about the one who made you! I made you! My creation! I will not allow you to throw me away!

Josef stood up and loosened his tie. Sweat was pouring down his face. He looked at Celina and how helpless she appeared, lying on the bed in her bra and diaper. This made Josef think of his time at Auschwitz. During that time, he was in charge. He administered fear and pain onto the prisoners. In the beginning, he was disturbed by what he saw. He lied awake at night, playing the horrible images of the camp over and over in his mind. But one day, he took a bet placed by another guard to rape and torture a young Jewish girl. After he did this, he was so disgusted he could hardly stand it. But when he did it again, he felt less disgusted. The more he tortured and killed the less pain he felt for what he had done in the past. To eliminate the guilt of one murder, he had to commit another. Doing this to his family kept him close to what truly bothered him, and it eliminated the pain he felt for what he had done at Auschwitz.

Just before now, he had become overrun by a family. They were in charge and he was just the money machine pouring out the dollar bills to support them. They took his hard-earned money and didn’t even appreciate it…but not now. Who was in charge now? Josef was no longer willing to be made a fool out of. Even though deep down his conscience told him that all of that was bullshit, he still wanted to believe it. And so, he did.

Celina, I’m sorry, but you have to see, Josef said softly to Celina, and then raised his hand and slapped her as hard as he could across the face.

Celina turned her head straight after getting slapped to the right. Blood poured from her mouth and left eye. She was now aware of the brutality that was going to take place. It was not a joke, nor was it minor. This was a true and real nightmare.

Josef took the syringe in his hand and leaned down over the bed. Not sure how to administer it, he stuck the needle into her forearm, similar to the way tetanus shots were given. He injected the Porgatrine into and waited. It took nearly 5 minutes, but after that had passed, she slipped into a deep, coma like sleep.

Tuesday, May 15th

It had been two weeks exactly since Josef had began the brutal process of creating his master work. Isabelle and Celina were still restrained to their beds. It was truly taking its toll on the young girls. Josef had been feeding them less than an ounce of food per day. And what he feed them was hardly food.

Their bodies were riddled with bed sores, they both weighed no more than 90 pounds, and their beds were covered in urine, sweat, and excrement. But Josef was not the least bit disturbed by what was happening. He happily sat in a chair in his living room, painting on a canvas that sat on an antique wooden easel that his father had give him. Josef took meticulous time in painting his paintings. Although he had quit his job and had been doing nothing but painting for the last two weeks, he had hardly painted anything. His decaying daughters were serving as a morbid inspiration to him. When he progressed in painting the picture, he would use blood and other fluids from his girls as paint to make the painting as unique as possible. So far, only a half a quarter of the canvas was painted. The idea in mind was for a design of red and black, which Josef imagined the inside of a soul to look like.

It was almost 3:00 P.M., and it was time for the girls’ one meal. This was just another way for Josef to torture his daughters. He fed them large amounts of inedible foods that they would just throw up. He would take macaroni and cheese – mix it with a jar of pure lard – and force-feed it to Celina. If she threw up, he would make her eat the vomit. Another meal that he fed them was a huge glass of melted butter and vegetable oil. He would literally make them drink this horrible mixture, and they would usually do it willingly because they were so thirsty. At times, he would even take day’s old excrement from their diapers and force-feed it to them.

Oh Honey, those sores! Josef said in a sweet, caring way.

Josef laid his paint brush over on the small table that sat next to his easel and stood up to stretch. He had been painting since 6:00 A.M. that morning, yet hardly painted anything. He then walked into the kitchen to prepare his torture food for Celina and Isabelle. Not sure what he wanted to feed them on this night, he looked in the refrigerator. They hadn’t eaten in three days, so they would be willing to eat whatever he gave them.

Josef saw some eggs on the shelf, so he grabbed them and some vegetable oil. He mixed the oil with nearly a dozen raw eggs and stirred it well in the sink. He then took the egg-oil to Isabelle’s room.

Hi sweetie, Josef said in a horrifying voice as he came through her door.

Isabelle was nearly a skeleton. She was starved to the bone. The stench of her waste was extremely potent. Even her bed sores were so full of pus that they could be smelt.

He came close to the bed, putting a handkerchief over his face, and investigated Isabelle. Besides the red sores on her legs, she also had huge boils on her thighs. They appeared as large red knots with tiny white heads in the center of them. Once Josef saw the boils, he desired to cut them open so he could collect the pus.

Here, lets take care of those boils, Josef said as he took his pocket knife from his shirt.

He placed the blade of the knife at the top of one of the boils and cut into it. Once he had drawn blood, he grabbed a plastic plate from Isabelle’s dresser drawer and held it under the boil. He then squeezed it. Pus squirted out of the boil profusely. He kept squeezing, and more pus came out. By the time the infection had stopped coming out, he had squeezed nearly a half an ounce of pus out of the boil.

The boils were extremely painful, but when Josef busted them open, it was excruciating to Isabelle. Josef wanted to use some of the pus for his painting. He proceeded to bust the rest of them just to watch the infection come out. So, he continued to cut open the boils and drain them – collecting more pus on his plate.

When he completed this first task, he sat the plate down. He took the glass of egg-oil and put it up to Isabelle’s mouth. Isabelle knew that the glass did not contain something she would want to drink, but she was so thirsty that she voluntarily drank the entire glass of egg-oil.

Now, that’s a good little girl, Josef said as he ran his hand over her head.

Please, Daddy. Please…

Josef slapped Isabelle as hard as he could across the face. Afterwards, he apologized.

I am so sorry, honey. Why do you make me do this? Why do you do it? I can’t understand it. Both of you – this is why this is happening! Josef wrapped his hands around Isabelle’s throat and started tightening them.

She began gasping for air, but he kept his hands firmly wrapped around her neck. She couldn’t breathe, and she began maneuvering herself as she was desperately trying to get out of his death grip. But Josef maintained his hold on her. Anger and extreme wrath rushed through Josef’s veins as he took all of it out on his innocent daughter. He felt such intense pleasure as he released his anger onto Isabelle that he began to feel a little dizzy. He even started to forget what he was doing, and so, he held his hands around her neck for nearly four minutes. After three minutes, she stopped moving completely. Josef didn’t even notice, he just kept strangling her neck. When he finally realized what was happening, Isabelle was already dead.

My God! Josef thought to himself. I just killed her. But I didn’t mean to, I don’t think. I only wanted to make her see my anger. But then, I killed her! This is far too soon. She was supposed to live longer than this, but I put her out. This is going to fuck up everything! Goddamnit, I’ve fucked up!

Josef released his hands from Isabelle’s neck and rose to his feet. He was now feeling extreme rage for what he had just done.

Fuck! he screamed, picking up a lamp table next to the bed, throwing it across the room.

Celina, as starved and weak as she was, heard Josef’s loud yelling from her room. She had never heard him scream like that. Josef never showed his sinister personality to Celina or Isabelle, even though he had been torturing both of them for two weeks. He always came at them with a sick smile on his face