Descent of The Watchers

by D S S Atkinson

up, they wrestled amongst themselves to get at the unusual form, screeching and snarling they ripped at the suit until at last its interior was forced open, revealing some soft pale tissue beneath.

  Returning to life Behemoth thrust aside his kin, pushing them away to inspect the pale body himself. Its wounds leaked red blood no different to the masters, yet it was vastly different from anything he could recall. Its limbs so slender, yet muscular, the entity’s body weight was so light despite its size. The dominant male examined the pale skinned corpse, from its scarcely protruding genitalia to its minute webbed hands.

  Standing over the form Behemoth stared curiously at its facial features. “No master.” He huffed under his breath. The giant reached down grasping the oval head in his gargantuan hands, he wrenched the body up high, shaking it violently he swung the deceased being back to the floor and stood upon its chest. He yanked up once more causing a hollow snap to echo out joined by a slurring strain of ripping sinew and flesh.

  The nephilim sharply tugged at the skull with a grunt stumbling back as it came free from its body. At once the troop coursed upon the remains, disembowelling it to get at its bones. Once more Behemoth stared at the head in confusion, holding it tightly in his hands. Its structure bared no resemblance to the masters at all, its features did not protrude, its eyes were grey without a circle of colour within. No master. The idea continued to circle inside yet he could make no cognitive sense of the situation, his mind whirred at the sensation frustrating him further.

  “Please.” Again the word mumbled from across the forest floor catching Behemoth’s attention. He turned to look upon the master whose now blooded face lay resting upon a blanket of foliage. Rushing towards his target Behemoth grasped the entity by its own head, lifting it from the floor the being began to whimper catching the attention of those around him.

  Behemoth pinned the master to the ground before grasping its face, he held the pale skinned skull to the darkness of the master’s. Tears flowed down its cowering skin catching Behemoth’s attention. With a deformed thumb he lifted the eyelids of both faces, live and dead, then immediately pried their mouths open, inspecting them for similarities.

  As his troop corralled around, Behemoth lifted the master up high by its loincloth, he too held the pale skull up. “No master.” He said, gesturing the severed head to his kin. “No Master -”

  “Please.” Behemoth’s focus swiftly changed, he looked upon the being with disdain, the word it incessantly uttered was enraging.

  “Please!” Behemoth barked, slamming the frail body into the dirt, at once his kin rushed forward to pounce yet their leader lashed out, “back!” The order was not enough to deter the primitive instincts of some, an enormous male lunged forward to grasp the master only to be violently stricken across the face by his leader.

  The giant erupted in anger, snarling and spitting, he charged through some nearby foliage in a rampant display, crashing through the undergrowth he hollered and roared yet upon realising his efforts went unnoticed by his kin the beast clambered away into the night.

  Behemoth’s heart raced, he breathed heavily in anticipation of a necessary physical confrontation and felt relief to see the potential rival back down. “Back,” he repeated again, gesturing his kind to leave the master, their deformed faces throbbed in confusion, their colossal black eyes shifting between their leader’s overbearing authority and the lust to pull apart the bipedal.

  Realising his words would not be enough to deter their desires for long Behemoth grabbed the unconscious body by its loincloth, dragging it through the forest with him whilst his kin looked on. He marched beneath the enclosing treetops into the clearing filled with master bones.

  Looking over them he took a moment to rest. A bizarre feeling of unease overwhelmed the giant. Lost in incoherent thought a rustle from some nearby shrubbery startled him. He turned his torso to look upon an approaching female. She walked in a submissive stance, her head and arms lowered until she reached her leader’s side.

  With a light moan the female slowly caressed Behemoth’s arm which held onto the master, before lining his broad shoulders and resting a hand upon his crooked neck. She groaned again lightly, massaging him, the flirtatious nephilim pulled herself close to her leader.

  Behemoth accepted his company’s advances, enjoying the feeling of her warmth against his skin. In the early morning hours the two monstrous deformities became entangled. Behemoth lay an arm upon the female’s back. She fell forward in offer. The giant did not hesitate to reciprocate. In a crazed burst he mounted her snarling, thrusting wildly the drooling giant huddled over the female in a manic lust.

  He pinned her, growling with ferocity as his excitement grew, yet the prize he clutched onto prevented any sense of pleasure flooding him. A commotion of muffled whimpers and grunts were shared before frustration caused the giant to shove his partner away. His primal desires immediately fell from his mind which became instilled with a new idea. Behemoth advanced towards the lake at the heart of his territory.

  Wildlife surrounding the waterbed scattered in the giant’s stomping wake, sensing the frustration in his movement. He threw the master and pale skull down near the bank’s edge before stepping out into the chilly depths. Once he cleared the shallows Behemoth eased himself back, resting at the water surface enjoying the feeling of being consumed by a cool temperature.

  For much time the giant relaxed in the early hours of the morning, staring beyond the enshrouding canopies above, amidst the tranquillity of his home.

  He focused upon the last fading lights in the dark sky unfathomable distances above. Keeping his ears beneath the surface he listened to his heart rate falling, he felt his breathing drop with his calming mood allowing his mind to shift away from the rampant instinctive behaviour which controlled him. His colossal black spheres fell into a void as he attempted to consider what this pale skinned entity might be. Strands of ideas and words pulsed through his mind yet he simply could not bring them together. With immense frustration at his inabilities the deformed giant’s face scrunched up, huffing, his heart rate paced once more yet all at once his personal turmoil ceased.

  Behemoth watched one of the bright lights appear to fall from above, a morning star coursed down from the sky to the south. It fell slowly at first, though with its brightness so its speed increased, a vision unlike any he had seen in all his long years. The giant’s body convulsed in the water as the light fell beyond his vision past the treetops, he propelled himself back towards the shoreline grasping his prized pale skull and humanoid captive.

  Lurching up the lake’s bank he rushed forward to bellow out but froze. He glanced around his territory, he watched his family grooming, his rivals sleeping. He glared south again, up through the canopies, then north, from where he had found these bronze entities.

  For a fleeting moment some coherence filled Behemoth. He trod onwards, quietly, towards the looming mountain. No masters. The words repeated over and over in his head. Flashbacks of some ancient memories ripped though his thoughts. He craved wildly to know what caused such familiar imagery. No masters.

  Unknown to Behemoth, amongst the trees his troop corralled together, following from afar, confused and fearful at the unfamiliar sight of their leader, who had lead their pursuit of the masters for so many generations, simply abandoning them.

   

  11.

  Is it truly the gods?

  The Adams said it was so.

  Stay back! We should not approach!

  Muffled speech echoed in Samyaza’s mind. She burst up to her feet in panic upon realising the death probe’s cylinder was not intact. It had come to rest on its side upon a desolate yellow plateau. She had not imagined the voices, glancing through her vessel’s translucent interior it became clear a mass of humanoid figures stood surrounding the damaged craft. She span about to look for her leader, to her amazement he still breathed.

  “Heylel?” She knelt by him, lightly shaking the seraphim’s huge body yet
there was no reaction. “Wake up, Heylel!” Still he remained motionless, the commander’s thoughts became lost between his faint breaths and the chorus of speech funnelling in from outside. Despite her grief there was little she could do for him, the probe’s breach could not be sealed, nor did she have the means to repair her seraphim’s life suit. For much time she rest with the colossus, holding his hand in hers, monitoring his chest as it rose and fell.

  “Yaza?” A weak voice filled the wreckage, failing to catch Samyaza’s attention, her thoughts were far and away from her present dilemma. It was not until the seraphim’s eye lids flickered open that reality caught up with her. “How long until the life support dies, Yaza?” The commander drearily shook her head. A deep confusion consumed her.

  “The probe’s seal was removed upon landing, Heylel. These pods... they have no life support.” She looked at her leader, his eyes were no longer a lifeless grey, but sparkled with a faint tint, as though his body had been invigorated, but how it could be evaded her. “How do you feel, Heylel?”

  “I feel,” he paused, inhaling deeply before exhaling a long, powerful breath, “as though a vice has been removed from my throat. We are upon Eden?” Samyaza nodded with excitement.

  “Yes.” The giant she held