The last thing anyone wanted was an uninvited guest at their door. Even worse than an uninvited guest, was a guest that could not be avoided and was unwelcome.<br/><br/>Udo sipped at his coffee as he looked the man sitting across from him dead in the eyes. “This coffee is delicious,” he commented with a grin, gently placing the mug back onto the table. “I don’t normally drink coffee. Admittedly, I’m not very fond of the bitter taste.”<br/><br/>The man said nothing in reply to the compliment. He just kept staring at his hand, which were folded on the table where Udo could see them.<br/><br/>Udo cleared his throat, “That was a compliment.” He hoped to encourage the man to speak, to work with him a little more, rather than intimidate him with his words. While it was true that he was higher up on the totem than this rat, there was no reason for hostilities. This man, so far, has been somewhat cooperative. Losing him now would mean that everything he had worked for, to this day, would be going in vain. It would mean that his presence in Munich would not have as much of an impact.<br/><br/>“I know…” the man murmured, “I’m… really glad you like the coffee, Herr Drechsler. You’ll have to excuse me… I just…”<br/><br/>“Take all the time you need. I’m not in any hurry.”<br/><br/>“I, uh, I’m glad you like the coffee.”<br/><br/>Udo might have seemed patient, but in truth he could not wait to drag this filthy rat out onto the street.<br/><br/>He has had his work cut out for him over the past few months. It didn’t take him long to find this man once he was onto his trail; after all, Udo Drechsler was not called ‘Bluthund’ for nothing. All he needed was a little evidence, some possible locations, and, well, some people willing to play the rat, a rat to rat out the rats in a sense, and help lead him in the right direction. It really did make his job a hell of a lot easier, not that it needed to be. It was fairly easy already, without the extra help.<br/><br/>The German people were terrified of the Nazis. It was almost sad how far they would go, pointing the finger at their neighbors, and even old friends, just so that they were not the ones being taken away to the camps. Deep down, somewhere, he knew that a lot of them were good people. They had been willing to do what they could for Germany, only to be ratted out. There were times where he would wonder if someday he, a model citizen who threw away a lot just to support his country, would be next.<br/><br/>Udo was using that to his advantage here. Moments ago, he told the man he’d be free if he translated this book. He even fed a lie about having power to sneak him out of the country. If the man cooperated, the Nazis would no longer be of any worry to him whatsoever. But evidently that had not worked. Udo waited and waited, but the man remained silent, and now he was going to need to step it up a notch if he was going to get anything out of him.<br/><br/>Clearing his throat once again, he said, “Enough time has passed for you to think things over.” He leaned forward a bit, propping both elbows on the table. “Let’s try this again: Is there anybody on this street hiding anyone? You would be doing all of Germany a favor if you worked with.” Since he arrived, Udo was made aware of this man’s stubbornness and reluctance when it came to cooperation. The only positive thing that came out of their exchange of words was a cup of coffee.<br/><br/>“I… I don’t…” The man grunted, his words trailing off. He seemed to tense up.<br/><br/>“It’s a shame that you don’t trust me” Udo continued. “I always try to be honest whenever I’m speaking to someone, and would certainly never do anything misleading.” He let out a heavy sigh, drank what remained of the coffee, now warm instead of scalding hot, and stood from his chair. “I have other business to attend to today. I do encourage you to work with me; you’ll find I’m easier to get along with than the military.”<br/><br/>After leaving the residence, Udo’s next stop was the church.<br/><br/>During the past few months, as a way to further connect with the realization of angels and demons, he has decided to start visiting church once in awhile. This war has taken its toll on him, more than he wanted to admit. He really needed to take some more time for himself and clear his mind. Being in a church environment brought him a sense of peace and tranquility, and helped him to relax more.<br/><br/>Ironically, Saint Peter’s church was where he was headed, only a few blocks away. It was difficult to say why he was heading to that specific location considering there were other churches in Munich. Perhaps, it was to mourn those he had so ruthlessly murdered on that night of the raid. It would only make sense. He had done a terrible thing that night, drenching God’s house in blood. Or at least that was what anyone with a sense of caring would think. Unfortunately, Udo was not one such soul. While he did still think about what happened, at the end of the day he was just doing what he was told.<br/><br/>Still, he wondered what any of this would accomplish. He wanted Germany to see a brighter future, he truly did. Until that day came he was willing to continue showing his loyalty to the Fatherland.<br/><br/>He stepped off the sidewalk to cross the street when it was clear, upon seeing the church in view. Whatever his reasoning for wanting to be there was, if there was a reason at all, he just knew he had to go there. It was as if something was calling him to that place.<br/><br/>Unfortunately for Udo, he would never reach the church.<br/><br/>He had barely stepped out into the street when a car came barreling down the road, slamming into him head-on at about forty miles per hour. He barely had time to register what was happening, other than the sensation of being thrown a good foot, and the snap of broken bones, before the car came at him a second time.<br/><br/>-------------------------------------<br/><br/>Some distance away, a man dressed in an SS uniform gawked at the scene. Pure elation was exactly what he was feeling at this moment. Months of watching this man have paid off.<br/><br/>After his accomplice drove off, he jogged over to the officer’s mangled body.<br/><br/>What he found was a horrible sight. He was lying on his back staring up at him with a blank expression, eyes staring off at something in the distance. He was in a state of shock it seemed, or perhaps dead. ‘Mangled’ was the perfect word to describe the scene; the impact from the vehicle broke several of his bones. His left arm was twisted behind him, and his left leg was crooked, blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. If that wasn’t enough to say he was dead, he wasn’t sure what would. Still. It was somehow majestic, and he admired it.<br/><br/>Perhaps his accomplice had overdone it a little? Oh, that was what he always thought. When he asked this of his accomplice, he knew full well what he was getting into. The man was a monster in every sense of the word. Someone who only lived to kill was the best choice for a task like this, after all.<br/><br/>With a triumphant smile, he checked the officer’s corpse for that book. He was lucky to have eluded the One so far. This was his second chance, which he had been graced with, and knew he would not be given a third. Now that He was moving around the country more with that witch, Darcy, he wouldn’t get another chance. The One would end him.<br/><br/>No… Zanzibar. He was now known as Zanzibar, for he has evolved into something more and was deserving of a stronger identity, a stronger presence, than<span style="font-style: italic">just</span>being ‘the One.’ To refer to him as the One was an insult.<br/><br/>When at last he found it, he let out a sigh of relief. He couldn’t believe it. It was finally in his hands! But… wasn’t this all too convenient? Shouldn’t he be suspicious?<br/><br/>Ah, who cared? He had it and that was all that mattered.<br/><br/>He examined it carefully, checking to see if it was still intact. This book was very old and while he knew its previous caretakers had left it in good conditions, who knew what the Nazis would have done. He would be beyond pissed if he discovered the pages were singed. From what he saw, it was all there, so he did not have to worry too much. But just because he was satisfied with it did not mean the One would be satisfied with it.<br/><br/>As he straightened and began to walk away, a gurgling sound caught his attention.<br/><br/>The officer was still alive! Through the blank expression, there was a spark in his eye, a spark that showed a malicious look.<br/><br/>He snarled and crouched down again, pulling out his pistol. A perk from ‘borrowing’ a soldier’s body, they always had a gun. Firearms were a good friend always by their side. He smiled a little as he pressed his pistol in between the officer’s eyes. When the trigger was squeezed, the officer’s body gave one final jolt, and then fell still.<br/><br/>The man straightened up, brushed off his pants, and tucked the book under his coat and walked off as if nothing had happened. He cleared his throat and tried to shake off the triumph, replacing it with a look of feigned sorrow. Sorrow was the furthest thing from his thoughts right now. He continued to revel in his work, and was trying hard not to smile too much. As he exchanged glances from onlookers, he could see that they were the same as him. No sorrow could be seen in their expressions, just shock and mild curiosity.<br/><br/>Humans have always been curious creatures, even more so than cats. The only difference between the two animals was that cats had nine lives and humans only had one.<br/><br/>He turned down an alley way and then entered a building through a back door.<br/><br/>He placed the book on a table, stepped back from it, and pulled out his pistol from his holster. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes, bracing himself. The pistol was pressed against his temple. Then, the trigger was pulled and the borrowed body fell to the ground.<br/><br/>Around two minutes later, another man came down the stairs. Or rather, demon. This man was the very same demon in control of that body moments ago, a loyal servant of the One. This demon, not a very powerful demon but one with a few tricks up his sleeve, was covered in bandages and was leaning on the woman who was helping him down the stairs for support. He has had ample time to recover, but astral projection, especially when he had the host kill their self, still seemed to make him dizzy. Damn these powerful spells. Damn the witch that did this to him!<br/><br/>He walked over and picked the book off the table.<br/><br/>The demon took in a deep breath, holding the book to his chest. “Now, to get this to Him…”