The Demon of Mount Teide
In 1494, Alonso Fernández de Lugo, along with 1,500 soldiers, invaded the island of Tenerife, off the coast of Northwest Africa.
Then 39 years of age, the Spaniard had come to this strange land, fueled by religious fervor and greed, knowing very little of the inhabitants, only that he meant to conquer them (a common attitude of the era).
These particular islanders were known as "Guanches" (theorized by historians to be Berbers from North Africa). They were taller than Europeans, by a good measure, and (unbeknownst to Lugo) seasoned warriors, ready for any fight the invaders meant to bring.
At the center of Tenerife stands Mount Teide: brutal, imposing, and believed by the Guanches to harbor a powerful demon named Guayota. This fear didn't stop them from living in volcanic cave burrows, often sharing their dwellings with their own mummified dead.
During his campaign, Lugo wasted no time pushing his forces inward. However, in what can only be seen as a tactical blunder, he allowed himself to be lured into a deep canyon by his cunning adversaries.
There, a surprise attack was sprung, annihilating the bulk of Lugo's forces.
Lugo barely survived; his teeth were bashed out in the melee by a rock, and he was only spared because he hid under a pile of his own men's bodies and feigned death.
When the victors finally sank back into the island fog like ghosts, Lugo crept back to the coast and his boats, fleeing to Gran Canaria where his rage fermented and his schemes grew larger.
It didn't take long for Lugo to return with a new army, almost entirely funded by his own enterprise. Older and now wiser, Lugo was not tricked a second time. He forced the Guanches out into the open plains of Aguere, where the Spanish cavalry ran them down.
One can only imagine the brutality that followed as the island was "reforged" into Lugo's own vision. It didn't take long before the territory was his.
But peace, if you could call it that, was short-lived. Pirates harassed the islands relentlessly for centuries.
The famous Admiral Nelson famously lost his arm in a failed 1797 attempt to take Santa Cruz—a painful lesson the Dutch had learned years before in 1599, when a siege involving 74 ships was also deterred by the Spanish defenders.
It was the native Guanches believed the demon within Mount Teide infected the minds of men and made them go mad.
The events that follow happened centuries later, but were no less horrific than the "manifest destiny" of the Spanish war machine.
1. The "God" Son
In the late 1960s, Harald Alexander, a simple bricklayer, dreamed of escaping Germany over what he deemed "religious persecution."
Harald was deeply involved with the Lorber Society, an esoteric sect based on the writings of Jakob Lorber. He believed that anyone outside this hyper-xenophobic group was demonic.
Harald lived in Hamburg with his wife, Dagmar, and four children: his son, Frank, and his three daughters, Marina, Petra, and Sabine.
The family believed, unshakably, that Frank was the second coming of God, and the boy was given supreme reign over the household.
This led to horrific complications when, at fourteen, Frank began to take notice of girls. Since the sect viewed all outsiders as evil, his attentions turned toward the women of his own family, who fully obliged his whims as if it were a command from God himself.
When one of the sisters began complaining of her jealousy regarding her brother at school, students began to talk and rumors filled the hallways.
When the local German police began sniffing around what people were calling "the Alexander cult," evidence of suspected incest came to light. The family fled Germany to escape the heat of the law.
For Alexander, whose paranoia was now mixing with his extreme religious beliefs in a dangerous cocktail, the island of Tenerife must have seemed the perfect refuge. It was a place where their beliefs could flourish, unchallenged by society.
Or perhaps, something more ancient and sinister beckoned him forth...At 39, Harald was the same age as the bloodthirsty Lugo when he first set foot on the island.
Harald moved his family into a third-floor apartment in Santa Cruz. He festooned the walls with various fabrics and musical instruments, creating a makeshift temple where he could enact his twisted will.
There, Frank—much like a young Caligula being raised in the isolated shadow of Tiberius on the island of Capri—honed his sadism under the skilled tutelage of his father.
Serenade of Death
The scene could only be described as medieval.
The authorities arrived at the apartment on December 18, 1970. Days prior, Dr. Trenkler—a German doctor and Sabine’s employer—had received the family as strange visitors.
He had overheard Harald say bluntly to Sabine, "We have finished killing your mother and sisters." It was a horrifying revelation that the doctor quickly reported to local authorities.
During questioning, Harald seemed calm, almost euphoric, stating, "The demons are vanquished." Frank, on the other hand, was reportedly in a trance-like state, repeating that he had saved the souls of his family. The ensuing report and gruesome testimonies painted a picture of a family well beyond the Rubicon of sanity.
In his testimony, Frank declared he suspected his mother had a demon inside her and must be "purified."
Upon hearing Frank's instruction, Harald announced "the hour of killing" was at hand. He took his seat at the organ, where he played music jovially as if celebrating. Frank's mother offered no resistance; she lay face down on the bed as Frank began his grim work with a metal pipe and a wooden coat hanger before moving to the other rooms to find his sisters.
Afterward, the pair dissected the bodies. The barbarity of the crime was enough to break even the most seasoned investigator's resolve. In the reports, it was noted that "anatomy" was removed from the victims and hung upon the walls like ritualistic trophies.
The Trial
In the eyes of the locals, the macabre story only confirmed the ancestral Guanche claims: the demon of Teide had infected this outsider's mind and poisoned his family.
During the trial held in 1972 in Santa Cruz de Tenerife, Frank was viewed as a victim of brainwashing—a boy whose father had programmed insanity upon him. Harald, however, remained adamant and unrepentant, maintaining his actions were just.
The pair were condemned and shipped off to a psychiatric ward in Madrid. Despite many efforts to separate them, they remained together.
The surviving sister, Sabine, begged to go with them, but she was denied. It was rumored and cited by investigators that after the media circus ended, she fled to Northern Germany to live out her days in a nunnery, returning to the embrace of strict religious dogma.
Her father and brother would not stay long in their new home.
Collapse
The Carabanchel Psychiatric Hospital in Madrid wasn't just a hospital; it was a wing of the infamous Carabanchel Prison, a feared and savage remnant of the Franco era. In 1990, the entire compound was in a state of utter collapse as Spain moved to close the facility.
This provided the perfect opportunity for Harald and Frank, who had spent twenty years within its walls, to escape. It is likely the escape required no great feat of engineering; the hospital was in complete disrepair, and employees were well aware the axe was coming down on their jobs.
Perhaps bribery occurred; none can say. Harald and Frank escaped one day, perhaps to slip back into the shadows of their native Germany, for they were never seen again. It wasn't until five years later that Interpol finally issued a warrant for their arrest—an endeavor that yielded no results.
Or maybe they returned to Tenerife, into the twisted volcanic arteries of Mount Teide, creeping down further and further, where the glowing hearth of Guayota awaits them.
