Iron Gates is a novel written by the Tempel ov Blood (TOB) which was published as the second release in the Martinet Press catalog after MP’s inaugural publication, The Devil’s Quran. It was with a great sense of gravity that Martinet Press assumed the mantle of the official publisher for the TOB, in light of their long-standing reputation, perhaps best indicated (as one example) by the following excerpt from R. Merrick’s August 28th 2013 article “Secret History of the TOB” which states:
“In other cases, the TOB has been linked to deportations, incarcerations, violent criminal activity and verifiable news-based, legitimate journalistic endeavor shows (though without naming the TOB specifically) that a sophisticated network based primarily around manipulative techniques and deep-cover infiltration of political and religious groups with a potential for violence as well, in the case of the example cited earlier, manipulative techniques – involving professional-style programming methods – that have led to harm against innocent parties.” 
Excepting the collection of tractates Discipline of the Gods/Altars of Hell/Apex of Eternity published by Ixaxaar Occult Publications in 2003 and their collection of sinister folktales Tales of Sinister Influence also published by Ixaxaar in 2006, the TOB has left a relatively minimal footprint in terms of published material. 2013 saw the appearance of Liber 333, self-published under the name of their private publishing brand designation, Angleton Imprints (named after the late CIA counter-intelligence chief James Angleton), which contained the material found in the earlier Ixaxaar works (which had long since sold out), articles from their hitherto privately-issued Journal, False Prophet, as well as other new material from various TOB “commissars” (a rank designation internal to their organization).
Despite the fanfare within very specific circles surrounding TOB material of a polemical nature, the TOB “center” (the central leadership apparatus of their organization) considers Iron Gates to be their most important work and quintessential to understanding their ideological thrust. At little over four-hundred pages in length and written over the course of a four-year period from 2010-2014, Iron Gates is solidly within the post-apocalyptic sci-fi/horror genre. That said, even cursory samples show that the authorship has every intent for the content to go “beyond due measure” across the board with very explicit sexual and violent content and an extreme championing of a profound amorality that in itself is a polemic against the often-seen “sheep in wolf’s clothing” approach that seems to have seeped into even the most overt Satanic groups claiming to operate under a “hardcore” banner.
A customer review by Jack Mort on Amazon, describing the dystopic view afforded in the book, states: “The world has come under the power of a ruthless and insane dictator known as The Commander; along with the demonic Commandant. The world has become rift with brutal military campaigns involving rape, murder and all sorts of horrors. The sadist in you will very much enjoy these segments where the splattered blood flies off of the page.”
Another, from Darigon of the ABG (Astral Bone Gnawers Lodge)  emphasizes similar feelings of the reviewer as cited above, along with additional detail: “The atmosphere of the story is shrouded in hopelessness so effectively described in the cold grey sky without sun which is the new reality in this radioactive, nuclear winter darkness, and also with high concrete walls of the old penitentiary that serves as organizational headquarters, its cells and bars, encompassed with barb wire. However that outside view of its walls, harsh as it may seem, gives you only a glimpse of what might be going on inside but still fails to plant the seed of expectation deep enough in your psyche to let the imagination flourish well enough. Wild as that imagination of yours may be it still couldn’t take you to the levels of horror the writer so brilliantly played with. These descriptions are one of the very best aspects of the book, as the writer went into such detail, painting so vividly the inside walls into the colors of blood and suffering, that it all keeps you on the edge of your seat while reading.”
Clearly while many groups prefer to express their ethos mainly through essays of a polemical nature or tractates of ritual practice, the TOB have chosen the medium of narrative both to express the nature of their future vision and to serve as a litmus test for those potentially conducive to the 333 Current as espoused by their organization, with Iron Gates as the Noctulian equivalent to what The Turner Diaries historically represented for a certain demographic of American white nationalists.
“When she thought she could not possibly take anymore of the beating, the person doing the whipping exchanged the thick leather strap for a long metal cane that looked to be made from some sort of antenna. The consistency was thin and extremely whippy and as he began driving it into the ruined flesh of her backside with an ultra-fast “swish, swish” her bruised skin began to break and tiny red rivulets of blood began dripping down the back of her pale white legs.
“There is only one person who can give you relief!” shouted a stern voice broadcast from some speaker high above her. “There is only one person who can make the punishment stop!” The swish swish of the cane continued, her legs now covered with spiderwebs of dripping blood. Bluebird cried and began whispering to herself like a mantra, barely audible under her breath, “Commandant, commandant, commandant.” Swish, swish, swish. Scream, scream, scream.
“Only one person can make this stop, only one person, but if it is her will then you should allow it to continue, will you allow it to continue?” The metal cane continued to rip into her backside and her screams began anew. “Answer us, will you allow it to continue?” Beneath the strange luminous light from above one could see small specks of blood flying into the air from the ferocity of the lashing as the metal instrument unmercifully punished her exposed flesh. “Answer us, answer us!”
Through the confusion and the horror Bluebird managed to let out a screamed answer, driven by pain and whatever strange drugs she had been dosed with earlier. “Let it continue, commandant, let it continue! Punish me, commandant, punish me!” The disembodied voice high in the ceiling changed from that of a male to the hearty laughter of a woman, echoing strangely. This must be the voice of the commandant herself thought Bluebird, her eyes lolling wildly, her tongue involuntarily protruding from her mouth in some heathen symbol of prostration. Oblivious to the metal cane which continued to beat her, she began crying in devotional ecstasy at having heard the voice, and then she too, like the voice from the speakers, began to laugh.” – Iron Gates.
 R. Merrick, Secret History of the TOB
 Martinet Press – Iron Gates, A Review.