Coincidence Draft 1, CH27 (Patreon)

Niel was bent over the altar, Wieland pounding him hard from the back and Isamu fucking his face. The kishu came and Niel held him in place while he milked the cock. When Isamu staggered back, Niel caught sight of the open door, level with the floor.

It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed it, in between and while fucking, but it hadn’t been level before and this time, when Wieland groaned and tensed, cumming, the room didn’t groan and move up another foot. The german shepherd pulled out and Niel straightened. Dario was stepping away from the pallas cat, a satisfied smirk on his face and Niel decided to enjoy one last ass before they continued on.

“There is a door,” Wieland pointed out. “Finally. We’re here.”

Even Fedor looked up from where he was sprawled.

That last ass would have to wait, and it could be the first of the next orgy. He slapped it on his way to his clothes and Dario turned that smirk on him.

“I will do more than smack,” the capybara promised.

“So will I.” Niel hesitated before getting dressed. His fur was matted with cum, and he’d never been a fan of not cleaning up as quickly as he could. But no one had considered providing showers in this place. He didn’t zip the jacket once he had it on. The temperature here was more cool than outright cold.

The other side of the opening was dark, and they had to resort to the flashlights again. Immediately, statues of wolves were revealed on each side of them, holding showed with the point in the ground. Behind them, sealed alcove lined the wall.

“What is this?” Dario asked.

Niel shone the light up. The ceiling was twenty or so feet up, unevenly rounded. Carved into the stone. “Catacombs,” he answered. The path extended before them. Behind them the opening into the now dark sex elevator was in an unfinished wall. It had been added to an already existing place.

Jarod and his palls had desecrated a burial site for… what the fuck would get at least one person he knew for sure had been an archaeologist, a student of history, to do that to some ancient race’s holy place? Because no one went to the extent of placing guards before the dead just for the fun of it.

Fuck he hoped this place wasn’t cursed.

Knowing magic was real changed his optics on a lot of the old stories of cursed tombs. If he had had any interest in turning his history classes into archeology, that thought had just ended it.

“What do Nazis want here?” Dario asked.

“Power,” Isamu answered.

“What power?” The capybara motioned around them. “There is only dead here.”

The kishu indicated further down the path before starting that way.

What did the original Survivor have with them they wanted to hide here? Had He given them something to protect? Was that what the Nazis were after? What could a god of gay sex hand over that the Nazis would want?

They crossed a threshold, and the guarding statues were more ornate, wearing armor instead of clothing. Behind them, instead of seal alcoves, plain sarcophagus lined the wall.

“Why different?” Fedor asked Niel.

“Probably because they were more important. My classes are more on those who lived through out history more than how the dead were dealt with. I know social status was a think in certain culture’s burials, but I have no idea who these people were. Wieland, do you know anything about an ancient culture of wolves in Switzerland?”

“Wolf-dog,” Isamu said, while the german shepherd shook his head.

“Wolf-dog?” Niel studied the statues. “How do you figure, Isamu? These guys look like wolves to me.”

“The men holding me spoke of clan of wolf-dog. Ancestors of all canidea. Pure, perfect.” The kishu studied at the statues close to him.

Dead, Niel thought. How was that for perfect? He shook his head. Nazis had been delusional, and their Neo counterpart weren’t anymore sane.

The sarcophagus became more elaborate as they proceeded, being intricately carved with drawing of someone’s life after that they found themselves in the shaft of a stairwell spiraling up.

“Why more walking?” Fedor demanded.

“They should have made another elevator,” Wieland said. “More fun.”

“I don’t think they wanted to damage the already existing structure,” Niel said. “I question why not one of them brought this discovery to the world, since they were supposed to be scholars, but I think they still respected what they’d uncovered enough not to interfere.”

“The other elevator?” Dario asked.

“It’s outside the structure. I don’t know if they came in through the entrance with the wolf face, then locked everything behind them as they proceeded, but that was the end wall of that catacomb. They made sure not to damage anything.

One hundred and three steps higher, they found a landing, and shining a light inside revealed more sarcophagus. They considered exploring it, but Dario pointed out they ahd not way to recharge their flashlights, so they agreed to continue up in the hope there would be a way out once they reached the top.

Niel continued counting he steps, and each landing was a hundred and three steps from the previous one. The sixth set felt outside, instead of another landing.

Or rather, outside of the stairwell, while still being inside the mountain.

On one side was a structure carved of, what else, stone. It might be carved into the stone wall itself, but their lights couldn’t shine far enough to see the end. There was a definite sense of as building to it, with open doors and at the edge of their light what could be windows looking into the distant darkness.

There was a sense of something grand, with the way sound traveled and took a long time to echo. Stairs went down in a gentle slopes away from the structure with a guard rail on one side.

“Pitch,” Fedor said, smelling his fingers. There was a bowl at their end of the guardrail, carved as part of it, and close, Niel saw a channel from it, continuing into the rail. He smelled it and it did smell like tar and other stuff, some of which made him think of when he was shot. Touching it, it was dry and powdery.

The palas cat rubbed something together and sparks came from them. When approached the bowl with it, Niel stepped back. Fedor repeated the actions over the bowl and sparked flew into it.

“I don’t think that’s how,” Niel started after nearly a dozen times, and that was the one there something sizzled, and then fire build into the bowl, then followed the rail, illuminating it and part of the stairs. At the bottom, it seemed to pause into another bowl, grow, then leave in three direction.

Niel watched in amazement more and more of the cavern was lit in the soft glow of the pitch fire. It was much larger than he’d expected and seemed to be a city, with the channel of light stretching into every street. From their height, they could make out the grid the house were build on. The cavern ended what had to be three football field away at least, with a door where Niel thought he could make out the stylized head of a wolf. Or wolf-dog, if Isamu was right.

“That’s the way out,” he said.

“Finally,” Wieland said.

Niel started down the stairs.

“There are Nazis behind it, correct?” Isamu asked.

Niel stopped. “If we open the door, maybe they’ll just rush in after whatever they think is in here and we can sneak out.”

“You will give them power?” the kishu asked.

“I doubt there’s anything in here they want. If Survivors hid something here, it’s going to be about gay sex. You really see that canidae are better than anyone guy actually willing to bend over and take a cock up the ass?”

Isamu bristled. “You do not know what is here. It will be powerful.”

“No one knows what’s here, Isamu. Those kind of people aren’t interested in what’s here, only what they think is here. They invent story to justify anything, convince their followers of anything. I’m telling you, this isn’t going to be anything.”

“What if you’re wrong, Niel?” Wieland asked, sounding worried. “There’s stories out there that He made weapons. That one of them was used during that Church thing a decade ago.”

The kishu nodded to the german shepherd. “He is right. He makes power.”

Niel wanted to protest. He wanted out of this place. See the sun, get a shower. But he didn’t have the knowledge of the Society and Survivor’s history they did. Kuno and the guys at the frat had discused the War with the Gray Church, but never in details beyond many of the Society families had suffered loses because of it.

“We get, we protect,” Fedor said.

“Or we use it to protect ourselves,” Dario said.

Splitting up in this situation was a mistake, so Niel nodded and climbed back up. “Okay. So if there’s something powerful, you figure its in there?” the pitch fire ahd made its way around and the building that had been hinted at before, was now cast in dancing flames.

Definitely a temple of some sort, with carving of wolves worshiping larger wolves. Looking at the adoration depicted, Niel could understand the Nazis, and their belief canines were superior to anyone, thought this place was important to them. He did wonder how they’d heard about it. Had one of the Survivors talked? Maybe had been captures and tortured for information?

Niel studied Wieland’s back as they walked into the temple. The German expedition had been send by sent by the Nazis, right? Didn’t that mean one of the Survivor had been Nazi? Hadn’t Wieland’s family always been in Germany? Other than being drugged, it wasn’t like he had been treated that badly.

The antechamber was large and the pitch fire revealed more passages to their left and right, but what caught Niels attention was the majectic stairs at the back, with the fire traveling along the guardrail and the much better illuminated room at the time.

“Up there,” Dario said.

At the top of the stairs, the fire went around a room with mummified wolves prostrated before a large leg bone floating in the middle of the room. Niel pulled his attention away from it to study the wolves. There wasn’t much left of the clothing they’d worn but despite what would be needed to build a city like this, there was a sense of tribalism to what Niel could make out.

The one exception was the man Niel noticed crumpled against a column, who hadn’t been visible form th entrance. He was a wolf, like the others and also mommified, but he was dressed in pants, shirtand a jacket that hadn’t had however long the other’s clothing had to deteriorate since these had been made in the early to mind nineteen hundreds.

Had this been one of the Survivors? As a wolf, and desiccated, he did resemble the others in the room. Had he believed he was one of them? Was he one of Wieland’s ancestors? There were no obvious injuries, so why had he remained behind? Had the others become wise to his treachery? If he was a Survivor, it would only have taken a few daus before he was too weak to do anything and a couple of weeks before he was dead.

Niel shuddered. He’s only had a few days of starvation and didn’t want to imagine what dying of it would be like.

“No,” Isamu said, and Niel turned in time to see Wieland grab the floating bone. A howl detonated from it, sending Wieland flying to the start of the stairs and forcing Niel to cover his heard due to how intense it was.

When it stopped, his ears were wringing. “Don’t touch it!” he yelled as they all ran to see to the german shepherd. “What were you thinking?” he demanded of the still shuddering man. The one Niel had touch hadn’t thrown him off with a howl, but he recognized the full body reaction.

“I thought.” The rest was incomprhensible as the german shepherd’s muzzle spasmed. “Use it.”

“We can’t use it. That thing’s a Practitioner staff. They don’t like having other factions touching them.”

“Nazi not faction,” Fedor said.

“If we cannot take it,” Dario said, “we can not protect it.”

“There is power here,” Isamu said with pride, looking at Niel.

“Fine, you were right.” And he was wrong on more than that. Maybe he’d misunderstood Grant, or the kangaroo didn’t know the truth, but with that being a staff, then it was more likely that the Practitioners had asked for the Survivor’s help, and not the reverse.

He saw Fedor approach the staff, taking off his jacket. “Don’t touch it.”

The pallas cat said something in Russian, and threw the jacket over the floating bone. It hung then, until he took hold of the sleeves and pulled it to the floor.

“Wrap, not touch.”

“Use your shirt,” Isamu said. “Lighter, and easier—”

The ground shook.

“I think,” Niel said, looking around. “That whatever magic was making it impossible for the Nazis to get in, was centered on that staff.”

“Put back?” Fedor asked.

“No,” Isamu replied. “We wrap and take.”

“I think,” Niel started, and a very distant grinding of stone stopped him. He ran down the stairs praying not to see what he expected to see. Outside the temple he saw a crack of light in the distance. The door being opened.

Fuck.

He’d really preferred the Nazis had followed them down where the pedestal had gone. Now they’d let them in.

Inside the temple an argument sounded. Russian, then Spanish.

Come on. Couldn’t those two just stop? He turned and ran for the stairs, reaching the bottom as the argument turned into pained yells and someone ran down it. Isamu with the wrapped bone in hand.

Niel didn’t think, he hunched and set to tackling him down. Only to find the kishu miving with him, and using the staff to trip Niel, sliding under the raccoon, who then found himself face first in the stairs.

He cursed and pushed the pain aside. He looked up as he stood. Wieland was in the steadying himself against a wall.

 “He is going to give the bone to the Nazi.” The german shepherd exclaimed.