Josef Bachmann

By Paul Boland

Who is Josef Bachmann?

This is the question the staff and prisoners
at Foxlore Prison are asking themselves
when he is sentenced to life there. But the
man they know as ‘The Otter Glade Cultist’
turns out to be much more than just another
criminal.

When Deputy Warden Jason Peters finds
Josef Bachmann taking a liking to him, his
whole life is turned upside-down as he
watches the structured order of Foxlore
Prison completely break down. Supernatural
elements take over the prison, sending both
prisoners and staff into complete disarray!
But when Jason uses Josef Bachmann’s powers
to try and make the world a better place, it
results in sheer horror descending on the
human race...!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781326979454

Book preview

Josef Bachmann

Josef Bachmann

by

Paul Boland

Copyright Paul Boland

ISBN #:  978-1-326-97945-4

Edits by:

Marianne Gammons,

Warwick, Rhode Island.

Disclaimer:

Josef Bachmann is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are written as a product of the author’s, Paul Boland’s, imagination or are used in a fictitious nature.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or people living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

For my best and closest pal in the whole world, Mike Notardonato, THANK YOU for everything, mate!!

Paul.

Chapter 1

Foxlore Prison.

Torrential rain fell from the sky, washing down the high grey walls and barbwire fencing that surrounded Foxlore Prison.  A high security penitentiary, Foxlore was home to some of the toughest men to be found guilty in a court of law.  The structure housed eight wings and was capable of holding two hundred prisoners in their own, confined, eight foot by ten foot cell.  The closest town almost forty miles away, Foxlore was built in a dense forest area.  Access was via a turnoff from Highway 138, along Foxlore Drive.  Once on this road, you were on camera the whole time as the ten minute drive only took you to the prison and nowhere else.

A twenty foot high, two meters thick, perimeter wall surrounded the complex.  Built with a walkway, guards could walk along the top of it giving them an eagle-eye view of the grounds below.  Manned armed guard towers were stationed at the four corners of the perimeter wall, and also at the midpoints.  Foxlore Drive led to the centre of the east wall where the only entry point was located.  A large, heavy, spiked gate stood in the shadows of one of the guard towers, a smaller manned guard station located by the gate.  All access to the prison grounds was through this gate.

Once through the main gate, entrants would find themselves contained in a small courtyard with a second similarly locked gate before them.  This secondary gate, and the main gate, were designed to work as a buffer between the outside world and the prison grounds.  Only one gate could be open at any given time meaning passage in and out of the prison required waiting in the courtyard for about sixty seconds as one gate was closed and the other was opened.  In case of an emergency situation, the guards in the guard house could open both gates simultaneously, but in the almost sixty years that the prison had stood, you could count on your fingers how often that situation had happened.

Once passed the secondary gate, depending on your reason for entering Foxlore, your path took you in one of two directions.  Staff, officials, visitors, and other guests to the prison went right.  This took them to the central hub, the entry point for the prison.  For prisoners, they went left, a route that led to prisoner administration.  Once processed, prisoners were assigned a cell where they would spend many years confined living out their sentence.

Warden Nick Banks sat in his office, focused on a file before him on his desk.  He glanced out his window as a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.  His eyes focused on the rain droplets landing on the glass and running downwards in little streams as the pelting rain fell outside.  It was almost hypnotic, and under any other circumstances he would have sat back and taken in the atmosphere of the storm outside, but not tonight.  He turned his attention back to the prisoner file before him.

Nick was almost here as long as the prison.  When he finished his recruitment and graduated, he was offered a number of postings at prisons around the country.  Foxlore was not his first choice.  He was a raw recruit, fresh out of officer training, the last thing on his mind was working in a maximum security prison.  But Nick had graduated with honours in self-defence and assault tactics and the governor of Foxlore Prison at the time had taken note of that and requested him.  Nick considered it and decided, with the great pay and benefits package on offer, to give it a try.

Two days into his new job, a couple of prisoners jumped Nick in the corridor.  One had a knife, a rather scary looking hunter’s knife which had been smuggled into the prison somehow.  Nick found himself putting his new found training to work sooner than he expected.  By the time his fellow prison officers arrived on the scene, the two prisoners were on the ground and Nick stood there, the knife in one hand, a rather serious laceration in his other.  He ended up in hospital and out of work for a few weeks.  But when he didn’t quit, when he stayed on at the prison after such a serious assault, he earned the respect of his fellow officers, and the governor too, who promoted him at the first opportunity he had.

Over the years, Nick slowly advanced up the corporate ladder until he finally took ownership of the prison.  When on his first day on the job, an official at his promotion ceremony referred to him as ‘Governor’, Nick stepped right in and made it clear he wanted the title of ‘Warden’.

‘Governor’ is too old fashioned, too formal, he said.  ‘Warden’ has a more friendly tone to it.  You can call me Warden Nick Banks.  And that was the title now displayed on the door to his office.

As Nick took a sip of his coffee, his mind recalled some of the darkest prisoners to ever grace Foxlore with their presence.  He had seen it all, gang members, murderers, rapists, drug barons, even some of the darkest minds that had ever graced the surface of the Earth, but as he looked at the prisoner file in his hand, a thought crossed his mind…  Foxlore had never housed such evil.

A knock on his door caused Nick to jump with fright.  He placed the file down and sat back in his chair.

Come in, he called out.  The door opened and a number of officers of his main staff walked in.

You wanted to see us, sir?

Yes, Jason, come in.  All of you, come in please.

Jason Peters was a long time close friend of Nick’s and also deputy warden at the prison.  In his early forties, he had close cut black hair and a black goatee, with some grey creeping into both.  He had a well-defined physique which he had built up over the years at the gym in order to help him keep safe on the job at hand.  Prisoners either loved him or hated him, but outside of Foxlore he was known as a fun guy to be around and he was a friend to anyone who needed it.

Jason and a number of other officers came in and stood in front of the warden’s desk.  Once the door was closed, Nick sat forward in his chair and looked up at them all.

I’ll cut right to the point, he said in a stern tone of voice.  Josef Bachmann is coming to Foxlore.  The shocked look that washed over his officers faces was exactly what Nick expected.

The Otter Glade Cultist…!! Jason said as he stepped forward.

The very same, Nick nodded.

He’s a lunatic! Nora Felton said.  He should be locked up in an asylum!  Why is he being sent here?  Nora was one of only a handful of female officers at Foxlore.  A friend to the prisoners, some of the inmates in the past took a liking to her for their own pleasures only to learn the hard way that she was more than capable of defending herself.  A few years ago, when Nick was picking his new deputy warden, it came down to a choice between Jason and Nora, and although he gave the position to Jason, he made sure that Nora was aware that she was a worthy contender for the job.

He underwent psychiatric evaluation.  He passed.  Therefore he can’t be committed to an asylum so he’s being sent to us.

He passed! Nora gasped, shock in her voice.

Lunatic or not, that man should be on death row for his crimes, David Stokes said.  A large burly man, David was an officer who did everything by the book.  The prisoners all hated him and over the years there had been stories of David being rough with inmates but no proof could ever substantiate it.  He got on well with the officers but he was not much for social events.

We don’t have the death penalty in this state, Nick said.  He’ll spend the rest of his life in prison.

And we’re the lucky ones who have to babysit him, David said in a distasteful tone.

When is he due to arrive? Jason asked.  Nick sat forward in his chair.

Tonight.

What!!

Prisoners don’t arrive this late.  Why is Bachmann being sent here tonight? Nora asked.

I requested it, Nick replied.  I don’t want the prisoners to know he’s here.  I want them all locked away in their cells for the night so we can get Bachmann settled.

You know you can’t keep a secret in this place for long, David said.  It’s only a matter of time before our rabble find out he’s here.

I know, Nick acknowledged, but I want to maintain as much control of the when, and how, they find out, and how we handle the situation.

When he mingles with the prisoners here, we could have a lot of trouble on our hands.

It’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen, Mr. Stokes, Nick said in a firm tone of voice.  Now, when he arrives, process him and then take him to solitary for tonight.  I want him assigned a cell in the isolation wing but it’s too late to set that up for him now so we will get it sorted tomorrow.  Just get him in and get him locked up for the night.  J.P., I want you to deal with him when he arrives.

Yes, sir, Jason said.

Dismissed.

As the staff turned to leave, Nick called out to Jason to stay a moment.  Once the other officers had left, Nick sighed.

Damn it!  We could have done without this!  He looked at Jason.  Thoughts?

David is right in one regard, Jason said slowly.  We all know what Josef Bachmann did.  We certainly don’t need what happened at Otter Glade to happen here.  Nick nodded his head slowly in agreement.  What I’m concerned about are the inmates who will buy into Josef Bachmann’s religious nonsense and will stand next to him.  Nick sent Jason a sharp glance.  Mark my words, Jason continued, he’s done it out there in the free world.  He’ll do it in here with our inmates.

I will not allow a repeat of the Otter Glade cult here in my prison! Nick snapped.

Josef Bachmann is being sent here for life, Jason said, we can’t keep him a secret from the prisoners forever.  And once word gets out and he starts to mingle with the population, I guarantee some of our inmates will follow him like sheep.

"Well it’s our job to ensure that Bachmann doesn’t start to gather a new ‘flock’ here at Foxlore."

The only way to ensure that, sir, is to not have him here.

Well, unfortunately, that’s out of our hands, Nick sighed.

Nick sat back in his chair again and threw his hands up over his eyes.  He let out a long slow sigh.  He was weary.  It had been a long day and now the end was ending on a note he could have done without.

Are you okay?  Nick lowered his hands and saw Jason looking at him with some concern.

Yeah, Nick nodded, I’m fine.  Just been a long day.  He looked up at his friend and smiled softly.  I should be the one asking you that, not you asking me.  Jason took on a stronger stance.  You know what, go home, Jason.  Be with Nicola.  I’ll get David to process Bachmann when he arrives.

Thanks, sir, but no.  There’s nothing I can do for Nicola at home other than sit there and worry, so I’m better off here, doing my job, earning some money.

You can be beside her, that’s something, Nick said softly.  Jason lowered his head and then looked at Nick.

Thanks, Nick.  But I’m fine.  I’ll see my shift through.  Nick looked into Jason’s eyes and could see a hint of a smile of reassurance in them.

Okay, he nodded.  Well, you better get down to reception and be ready.  Bachmann should be here soon.

Yes, sir, Jason said as he retook a firm stance.  He then nodded at Nick and turned and left the office.

Nick sat forward and picked up the prisoner file from his desk.  He scanned down the front page and then he returned to the photo at the top right.  Josef Bachmann looked back at him.  In his early fifties, he had short white hair and was clean shaven.  He was thin and his cheeks sunk into his face.  His eyes were a very piercing shade of blue and Josef Bachmann looked out at him with a wide smile.  There was something sinister about the image and as Nick focused on Bachmann’s face, a chill ran down his spine as it seemed that in the photo, Bachmann was actually looking back at him, seeing him from within this static printed image.  A flash of lightning and a clap of thunder snapped Nick out of the trance he was in and he dropped the file on the desk and sat back in his chair again.

God damn it! he muttered in a low tone of voice.

Chapter 2

O.G.P.D.

As the heavy rain continued to fall without end in sight, Officer Jack Stevens drove casually along the ring road motorway which circled the small town of Otter Glade.  The road had only been completed a few years ago and it allowed traffic to drive around Otter Glade, bypassing the small town and its small streets.  While this was a welcome measure for both the town residents in that it considerably eased the traffic flow through their town, and for drivers who didn’t have to venture through Otter Glade, the new ring road motorway had led to one unforeseen issue.  People, especially young impressionable drivers trying to be cool in the eyes of their friends, used the new motorway to drive at speed.  Since its completion, Otter Glade Police Department found it had to schedule patrols along the road to watch out for speeding motorists, and sure enough many had been caught and fined, but the practice continued.

A yawn slowly left Jack’s lips.  The pitter-patter of the rain washing down the windscreen as the wipers moved rapidly back and forth removing the water, the darkness and the reflection of the cats eyes along the road, all were contributing to a slow night and weariness was settling in.  Glancing down, Jack grabbed the radio.

Base, this is Stevens, over…

Hi Jack.  How’s it going out there tonight? a female voice replied.

Hi Angela.  There’s no one on the road tonight.  I think when I complete this section of the motorway I’m going to head back into base.

Quiet here too, Angela said as she sat at the radio terminal in the police department.  After what this town has been through, I’m guessing people are avoiding it like the plague!

Yeah…  Jack replied slowly.  Listen, I’ll be back at base in about fifteen minutes.  Fancy going for a drink with me when I clock off?

I’m not finished for another couple of hours, Angela smiled.

No worries.  I’ll wait for you, Jack smiled back.  Jack had been trying to get Angela to go out with him for a drink, dinner, anything, for a while now.  She made him laugh and he liked her and he knew she knew that.  Perhaps that’s why she was playing hard to get.  Didn’t stop him trying though.  So… he said slowly when he got no reply.

We’ll see when you get back, Angela said as she shook her head in a bemused fashion.

Okay, Jack smiled.  Over and out.  Perhaps tonight was his lucky night.

Just as he placed the radio back in its cradle, a pair of headlights appeared in the rear view mirror.  Jack watched them as they approached and then passed, a dark blue car, travelling at considerable speed.  Jack didn’t need the dash mounted speed camera to tell him that the vehicle was travelling well above the speed limit.  The vehicle continued passed the police car without even slowing.  Jack turned on the police sirens and lights and pressed down on the accelerator.  He moved over into the same lane as the speeding car and moved up behind the vehicle.

Jack glanced at the speedometer gage, he was travelling at nearly eighty miles per hour.  He looked back at the vehicle in front of him.  Just as he was wondering if the car was going to lead him on a chase, the indicator light started blinking and the vehicle started to slow and move over towards the hard shoulder.  Once there, with the police car behind it all the way, the car came to a stop.

Jack turned off the siren but kept the police lights on to signal to any oncoming traffic that he was stopped there.  He grabbed his cap, placed it on his head – not that it would offer much cover from the torrential rain – and he exited the police vehicle and walked up to the driver’s window of the car he had stopped.  As he approached the window, he saw it lowered.

Do you have any idea how fast you were trav…!

Jack froze!  Staring at him from inside the car were the two open barrels of a shotgun.  Jack didn’t get a chance to react.  The last thing he saw was a blinding flash, accompanied by a deafening bang, coming from the weapon!  Jack’s body flew into the air and came crumbling down half way across the wet road, his head now split in two, rolled a few feet away.  The bang from the blast echoed through the night time countryside, being heard only by animals in the immediate area which turned and ran away.

The rain lashed down, washing away a stream of blood that now poured from the torn severed neckline of Jack Stevens body as the heart in his chest spluttered and then stopped beating.  Jack’s head came to a rest, only the shape indicating that this object had indeed once been a human head, as all human identifying features were now gone from it.  The flashing lights from the police car continued to flash as the scene of horror stood silent for a few seconds.  The atmosphere of this short section of road seemed to be static now, even with the intense weather.

After a few moments, the window of the dark blue car slowly closed and then the door opened.  A dark figure, clad in some sort of military body armour which covered the wearer from head to toe, stepped out of the car, shotgun held in his left hand.  He stood there for a moment, and then looked up and down the road, but there was no traffic in sight.  The figure stepped slowly over to the lifeless body and looked down at it.  His head, covered in a black protective mask, moved up and down as the figure examined the body lying on the ground before him.  The head then cocked to the left side slightly.

The figure bent down, placed the shotgun on the ground, and proceeded to remove the police jacket from the body before him.  Once off, he stood up and pulled the jacket on over his body armour, zipping it closed.  His head looked down at his attire as his black gloved hands explored the new jacket and then caressed the metal police shield pinned to the chest.

The figure then looked over at the severed head and moved towards it.  When he got to it, he stopped and stood motionless as his head, once again cocked to the side, looked down at the slaughter he had just performed.  The figure then stepped over the decapitated head and took a few steps onwards upon which he bent down again and picked up the police cap from the ground.  He stood back up and examined it.  The brim of the cap was shattered from the blast of the shotgun, but the rest of the cap itself was undamaged.  The figure placed the cap on his head, pulling it down by the remains of the shattered brim.  The cap fit was perfect, even over the head gear that the figure wore.

The figure turned around and walked with a firm stance back towards the body he had just stripped the jacket from, kicking the severed head with disregard in his stride.  He stepped over the body, bent down, and picked up his shotgun again.  Clearing the barrel of the spent cartridges, the figure reached into his pocket and pulled out two new ones which he loaded into the gun, ready to fire again.  He then turned and walked away from his blue car, instead climbing into the police car.  The flashing lights were turned off, and the police car drove around and passed the scene of the murder, driving over the corpse as it went.

Just over a mile down the road, the police car took an exit off the motorway and headed into Otter Glade town.  The streets were as empty as the motorway had been, the torrential rains keeping the town folk in their homes.  If this had not been the case, someone might have noticed a police car being driven by a figure wearing a black face mask.  But the black armour clad figure went unnoticed and finally he turned off the main street and drove into the grounds of Otter Glade Police Department.

The police car stopped outside of a heavy duty gate barring access to the inner parking lot of the police station.  The driver reached down and pressed a button on a small fob attached to the key ring of the cars keys, and slowly the large heavy gate opened.  The police car then drove in slowly and parked in a vacant slot by the building.  With the car engine turned off, the masked figure sat and watched as the large heavy gate slowly closed again.  Once it was, he grabbed hold of his shotgun.

I think your boyfriend is back, Angela, Tony Dell said as he glanced at the video monitor which displayed footage from the internal car park of O.G.P.D.  Angela pushed her office chair over to the video terminal and saw the police car in the parking lot.

He’s not my boyfriend, she smiled as she nudged Tony in the shoulder.

Whatever you say, Miss Palling, Tony giggled.

Get out of here, Tony! Angela laughed as she shooed Tony away with her hand.  Go open the door and let Jack in out of that weather.

He knows the key code for the door, he can let himself in, Tony laughed as he got to his feet.  Angela sent him up a firm look, but one with a hint of a smile on it.  Er…  Okay, Tony smiled.

As he left the office, Angela chuckled to herself and then turned back around in her chair to look at the video display.  Her smile quickly faltered as shock crossed her face.  The driver’s door of the police car was open and a figure stood there, just after emerging from the car.  The figure was dressed in a police uniform, but this figure wore a black face mask and Angela could see a shotgun in his hands.  The figure then turned, and leaving the car door open, he moved towards the secure door that led into the police department.

Tony, still with a smile on his face from his banter with Angela, approached the heavy duty door which led outside to the car park.  He stopped at it and pressed the release switch to open the door.  At that exact moment sirens sounded throughout the complex and internal security lights flashed.  Tony glanced around wondering what was going on.  He felt a cold breeze rush passed his body as the heavy security door opened.

Hey, Jack, you got back here just in time, something is going on here, Tony said as he turned back to see his friend.  But his friend was not there.  Tony came face to face with a masked figure in a police uniform, pointing a shotgun directly at him.  Just as Jack Stevens didn’t have time to react, Tony too was caught off guard.  A deafening bang tore Tony’s head off his body and sent blood, bone and brain matter all over the walls, floor and ceiling of the corridor behind him.

Angela screamed out in terror as she saw this murder take place on another monitor display which covered that corridor and doorway.  The bang from the blast echoed throughout the entire police department.  The dark figure stepped over the crumpled body of Tony Dell and walked down the corridor, shotgun ready to be fired at its next victim.  And it only took a few seconds for that victim to appear.  Two officers ran into the hall to investigate what the bang had been, and instantly another bang sounded.  One officer’s chest exploded while the other was struck in the shoulder and fell backwards onto the ground.  As he fumbled for his gun, the injured officer cried out in pain and fear as the masked policeman approached him.  The figure stopped over him, cocked the shotgun open and ejected the spent cartridges.  He then produced two new ones from his pocket and loaded the gun again.  The injured officer tried desperately to grab a hold of his own gun but the weapon was on his belt, on the same side as his shoulder which was now shattered from the shotgun blast.

NOOO…!!! the officer cried out as the masked figure pointed the open barrel of the shotgun directly into his face.  BANG!  The masked figure then turned and proceeded into the heart of the police department without giving a second thought to the fourth cop he had just murdered.

Upon entering the open reception area of O.G.P.D., a number of shots sounded from handguns.  Officers stationed around the area opened fire on the masked figure.  The figure was nudged from side to side by the bullet impacts, but the bullets did not penetrate the armour he was wearing.  Raising the shotgun again, the masked figure opened fire in the direction of another officer.  The officer ducked behind a desk but part of the blast penetrated through the wooden frame and the officer fell to the floor as blood gushed out from a wound on the side of his neck.

Two officers ran from behind their cover and rushed the masked figure.  Realising he didn’t have time to reload his shotgun again, the masked figure dropped the shotgun and pulled two hand guns mounted on either side of his waist.  He fired without hesitation at the attacking officers, sending both their lifeless bodies to the ground.

Suddenly the masked figure stumbled forward as Angela ran at him from behind and dived up on top of him, wrapping her arms around his neck.  As she tugged with her whole body weight on the masked figures neck, the figure pointed the gun behind his head, towards her, and pulled the trigger.  The bullet missed Angela but the deafening bang caused her right eardrum to explode and she felt pain and a wave of dizziness wash over her.  Losing her grip, Angela fell backwards from the masked figure and as she crashed to the floor she cradled her ear which now had blood pouring from it.

As she glanced up, terror in her eyes, the masked figure turned around and looked down at her.  He raised both hand guns, pointing them at her head, but before he could pull the trigger, three officers grabbed him from behind and wrestled him to the floor.  Angela cried out in shocked relief as she got back to her feet where she saw three officers forcefully cuffing the masked figure which had brought murder to O.G.P.D. this evening.  Once cuffed, the figure stopped struggling and lay on the floor, panting, as the three officers pinned him down.

Angela, in pain and in severe shock, walked around the pinned figure and indicated to the officers pinning him down to get him back up to his feet.  They did so, roughly, causing the masked figure to grunt in pain as his cuffed arms were used to haul him back up onto his feet.  Angela looked at the figure, a black hard mask looking back at her.  Her eyes then drifted down across the police jacket the figure was wearing and her eyes focused on the police shield pinned to the chest of that jacket.  She recognised the badge number.  Her eyes widened in fear as they quickly darted back up to look at the face of the mask.

Ja…  Jack…! she stuttered.  She slowly reached up, her hand shaking, and she knocked the police cap off the masked figure’s head and then she grabbed a hold of a locking clip on the side of the mask itself.  Her eyes darted from the buckle to the mask itself and then she pulled on the buckle, releasing it, and the mask came away in her hand.

A man, sweating, but with an expression of satisfaction on his face, looked back at her.

Y…you’re not Jack…! Angela stuttered.  She looked back at the police shield and read the number again to herself.  Yes, it was Jack’s shield badge indeed.  W…where did you get this? she demanded as she tugged on the shield.

I took it, the man said, calmly, a smile still present on his face.

You took it??? Angela hissed as her mind try to make sense of that reply.  What do you mean you took it?

I murdered the officer who this jacket belonged to and I took it.  Angela took a step backwards in shock.

You…you murdered him…

I blew his head clean off his body with my shotgun, the figure smiled.  Angela’s body shuddered as she gasped for a breath.  I wasn’t expecting that to happen but the end result was all the same.  He was dead!

Angela’s pupils narrowed, the white of her eyes grew, and she shuddered in shock as she took in this news.

Why…! she demanded in a shocked tone of voice.  Why did you do this?  She glanced around the reception area of O.G.P.D. which was filled with dead police officers and blood.  WHY….! she said as she turned back to face the still calm and smiling face of this lunatic.  The man cocked his head to the side slightly, his smile grew a bit but he presented a serious and firm tone of voice to her in his reply.

"Because those who do not walk the same path as me, will eventually become enemies to me, so they must be put to death to ensure that we can live in peace."

You’re a member of the Otter Glade Cult…! one of the officers holding the man said.

I am, the man smiled.  My name is John Carson.  I am an apostle of Josef Bachmann.

What…!! Angela said in a shaky tone of voice.

This place is a den of evil, John said as he threw his eyes around the chaos of Otter Glade Police Department.  Those who work here helped in the capture and imprisonment of our Saviour, Josef Bachmann.  Therefore I have ensured that those responsible for imprisoning our Saviour have now paid for their evil deeds.

You’re a lunatic… Angela muttered.

I am blessed, John smiled.

Angela looked at the smiling face of evil grinning back at her.  She then looked at the three officers who had a firm hold of him.

Lock him up… she said in a low tone of voice.  Lock him up! she said again louder.  As the three officers forcefully manhandled John Carson down to the cells, John shouted out to her, a hint of joy present in his voice,

I have done the word of God.  Josef Bachmann will be pleased.  You can imprison my body but my soul will be free to spend eternity in Heaven while those I cleansed tonight will burn in Hell for aiding in the capture of our Saviour, Josef Bachmann.

As John Carson disappeared through a door leading down to the cells, Angela stood there, shock on her white face, trembling.  The last thing she remembered was staff members running to her aid as she passed out.

Chapter 3

Josef Bachmann.

The rains continued to pelt down hard as a small white prisoner transport vehicle turned off Highway 138 and onto Foxlore Drive.  As it made its ten minute journey towards the prison, its route was recorded by a camera position every one hundred feet along the road.  The vehicle finally emerged from the forest-lined road and Foxlore Prison stood before it like a fortress.

The vehicle slowed and came to a stop outside the main gate.  Inside the guard station, Brian Warner and Joe Rainer had watched the vehicle approach.

I’ll get this, Brian said as he pulled on his cap.

Don’t get wet, Joe chuckled.  Brian sent him a bemused smile in response and then left the station.  By the time he took the few steps needed to reach the vehicle, the rain had already soaked Brian.  The window of the vehicle rolled down and Brian could see two guards sitting inside.

Hi, one said as he handed out a clipboard with papers on it.  I’m Ray Barry.  This is Ian Bellows.  We’re here to deliver a prisoner to Foxlore.

We’ve been expecting you, Brian said as he scanned the QR code at the top of the documents with a small PDA.  He waited and watched the screen as the PDA delivered the confirmation that the prisoner transfer papers were correct.

Hell of a night to be doing this! Ray said as he indicated to the heavy rain and rumbling thunder.  Brian looked at him.

‘Hell’ is right, he said as he nodded his head towards the back of the prisoner transport.  The two guards in the vehicle knew that Brian was referring to their passenger and they nodded in agreement.  You’re all clear to proceed, Brian said as he tapped an on-screen button on the PDA and handed the clipboard back to the officers.  Head inside and once through the courtyard, follow the road left to prisoner administration.  Staff will be there to take the prisoner off your hands.

Thanks, Ray nodded and the window closed up again as Brian dashed back into the guard station.

As Brian removed his wet jacket and cap, Joe stood and watched the prisoner transport vehicle pass through the main gate and enter the courtyard.  Joe operated the console before him and the main gate started to close as Brian came up beside him.  The two men stood in silence, looking at the vehicle.  It was no different from any other prisoner transport they had seen hundreds of times before, but it was who was inside it that was the cause of their awestruck silence.  Once the main gate sealed shut, Joe operated the console again and the inner courtyard gate opened.

I’m glad we’re security personnel and don’t have to deal with that insanity heading into the prison! Joe said slowly as they watched the prisoner transport vehicle move out of the courtyard and into the prison grounds.

Agreed, Brian replied in kind.

The vehicle took the road left, heading up around the back of Foxlore Prisons impressive and dominant structure.  Once around the back of the prison, a small courtyard revealed itself, with a number of parking bays outlined.  The one closest the doorway into the prison had three prison officers standing there, waiting, and the vehicle pulled into it and stopped.  As the officers exited the vehicle, Jason Peters stepped forward to greet them.

Hi.  We have a new prisoner for you, Ian said as he handed Jason the clipboard.

I know, Jason said as he signed the papers.  Right, let’s have him! he said as he handed the clipboard back.

The officers moved to the back of the vehicle and unlocked the heavy door.  When it opened, a lone figure stood right in front of them as if he was waiting for the door to be opened.  Tall and slim, but with a bit of baby fat giving a soft round look to his features, the man smiled with bright white teeth that seemed to stand out even in the darkness of the night.  His eyes were wide and a bright shade of blue, almost like the sky on a sunny day.  His short white and silver hair was neat, and the rest of his face was clean shaven.  The smile on his face caught Jason off guard as it was not a smug smile that some prisoners present, but it was more a smile of happiness, of acceptance, and yet it also seemed to resemble a skull smiling from behind the flesh on the face.

Oh, have we finally arrived? the figure said, his smile never losing focus as he moved his head gracefully around taking in the scene before him.

Out of the vehicle! Jason ordered in a firm tone of voice.

Oh why of course, the figure smiled as he gracefully stepped down and out into the rain.  His eyes then widened and he glanced up at the sky above which illuminated clouds overhead with a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder.  What a glorious reception I am receiving tonight, the figure beamed, his smile growing which seemed to enhance the skull-like look on his face.

He then looked directly into Jason’s eyes.  The face-on staring at him sent a chill down Jason’s spine.  The beaming smile and wide penetrating blue eyes, it was as if Josef Bachmann was looking behind Jason’s eyes and into his very soul.

"And on the night of his confinement, God lit the sky for his disciple, indicating that a new path lay before him.  And on that path, the first face to greet the disciple would be a figure of authority, but also a friend."

Jason was taken off guard by Josef’s words, he didn’t know what to make of them.  Josef’s head glided to the side, his eyes remaining fixed on Jason’s eyes.

It’s very nice to meet you…friend, he smiled widely.  Jason’s head bobbed backwards, he was caught off guard completely and didn’t know what to make of this greeting he had received.  He looked down as Josef extended a hand in friendship towards him.  Jason looked back up, straight into that wide beaming skull-like smiling face and piercing blue eyes that remained fixed on him.

I’m not your friend! he said firmly as he took on a firmer stance.  Jason looked over at the two prison officers who he had brought out with him.