Earth Sentinels Collection

by Elizabeth M Herrera

  Zachary asked, “Did you save any?”

  “A few.”

  “Was the flood a natural disaster?”

  “Yes. The Anunnaki scientists stationed in Africa noticed the Antarctica ice cap was slipping off its slushy foundation because of the gravitational pull of our approaching home planet. We knew once the ice cap fell into the ocean, it would cause catastrophic tidal waves around the entire globe, which it did. But, before the watery abyss covered this planet, my people got into our spaceships and hovered above earth. Despite my people’s callousness, many wept when they saw you drown.”

  “I’m touched,” Tom said sarcastically.

  Bechard ignored the man’s comment. “After the flood waters receded enough for the Anunnaki to return, my uncle discovered some of the humans had been spared.” The fallen angel shook his head remembering. “Enlil was furious, but he calmed down after we convinced him the survivors would be useful for rebuilding.

  “However, another problem sprung up during the aftermath. A fraction of the Anunnaki citizens, including myself, rebelled because we wanted to build our own kingdom instead of rebuilding for the seldom-seen king. The rebellion seemed like a rational decision at the time, but, for our transgressions, we were deemed traitors.” He added without bitterness, “We were also demonized. From that point forward, we were referred to as fallen angels. And, to make matters worse, after a while I didn’t fit in with the rebels. I was on my own on a strange planet. But that’s karma for you.”

  The others could tell Bechard was rehashing the events in his mind, perhaps considering what he should have done differently.

  Tom tapped his wrist, indicating it was time to conclude the story.

  To placate the impatient man, Bechard began talking again, “After the flood waters receded, our geneticists decided to disable ten of the twelve DNA strands in the human survivors. Our intention was to reduce your life span to fewer than 120 years so you wouldn’t overpopulate the earth and overrun us.”

  Cecile scoffed, “There’s no way you could have found every one.”

  “We didn’t, and there’s tales of people living to be very old, but eventually, through interbreeding, everyone’s life span shortened. If it were possible, we would have also removed the reptilian influence.”

  “Why couldn’t you?”

  “The Dracos’ modification had become an integral part of your brain that neuroscientists now refer to as the R-complex or Reptilian Brain, which controls your heart rate, breathing and body temperature—the basics for sustaining life. It also holds your more animalistic qualities, such as the desire to fight for dominance and territory, and sexual and survival instincts. Their modification couldn’t be removed without killing you. Of course, this is what the Dracos intended. And they are still busy modifying your DNA as well as doing something far more sinister. Here, let me show you.”

  Bechard waved his hands over the crystal ball. The blue mist parted to reveal a laboratory where alien scientists were working among a half-dozen, unconscious naked men and women, who lay on gurneys with white sheets covering their midsections.

  One of the scientists walked across the floor pushing a tall machine topped with a glass dome. A wheel squeaked. He stopped at the nearest gurney, which held a male subject. The scientist flipped a switch on the machine, causing a white light in the glass dome to flicker on. A humming sound arose. From the side panel, the scientist unlatched a black hose, then pressed a red button. A holographic funnel appeared at the end of the tubing, which was positioned over the man’s chest. The scientist waited for his assistant to press a handheld device against the man’s neck, killing him. A moment later, the man’s spirit spiraled out of his chest, and was vacuumed into the black hose where it headed toward the white light in the glass dome. Once there, his spirit was unable to proceed any farther. It was then, the man realized the treachery. This was not the natural progression of a soul passing from this life to the next. He panicked. His spirit took the shape of a ghostly face screaming for help, but the glass dome silenced his pleas.

  Without the slightest concern for the victim, the scientist inserted a clear hexagon-shaped crystal, the length of a finger, into a slot in the machine. This prompted the man’s spirit to flow out of the glass dome and into the crystal, which became cloudy as it filled. After this operation was completed, a small mechanical arm swung over the quartz cell, etching a number on its flat topmost surface with a red laser. The scientist retracted the crystal, putting it in a rack along with the others. Finished with this human, he rolled the machine toward the next victim.

  “What you just saw is our biggest concern,” Bechard stated as he waved his hands over the crystal ball, stirring up the blue mist inside to hide the continuing actions of the scientists.

  “What the hell was that!?” Cecile demanded to know.

  “The Dracos were, and still are, capturing people’s consciousnesses—what some might call souls—”

  “But that’s not possible. Is it?”

  “It is. Let me show you.” Bechard waved his hands, and the blue mist inside the crystal ball dissolved once more.

  This time, the scene showed a white-walled laboratory that housed four-foot-tall glass capsules. Inside them were fetuses, all in various stages of development, floating in green synthetic embryonic fluid. Bubbles gently rose to the surface. Piped throughout the room were sounds of dogs barking, kids playing and people conversing. A lullaby softly played in the background.

  A scientist pushed a cart between the capsules searching for a specific subject. When he found the one he was looking for, he stopped, reaching inside his cart, pulling out one of the hexagon-shaped crystals from a rack. He checked its number, then inserted it into a slot on top of the capsule lid.

  Immediately, the spirit within the crystal rushed out, swirling inside the capsule, floating above the amniotic fluid until it sensed a viable body, prompting the life force to race through the liquid and enter the strange-looking fetus with an oversized head, unformed nose and rounded bulge between its closed eyes.

  Zachary asked, “Is that an alien hybrid?”

  Bechard chuckled. “It looks like an alien, doesn’t it? But there’s no difference in appearance between a human and hybrid fetus.”

  “Oh.” The young man took a closer look, somewhat repulsed.

  Cecile stated, “That soul wasn’t given a choice. Not a real one, anyway.”

  “You’re right,” Bechard agreed with her. “It wasn’t, and that’s the problem. And, to make matters worse, if the Dracos figure out a way to incorporate your DNA into their hybrids, they’ll have unlimited power. So let’s hope it’s not possible. Meanwhile, the stolen souls that have been forced into these hybrid fetuses are effectively trapped within the hive mind—a matrix within a matrix. Their freewill and access to the universal energy are so hidden from their consciousness that they’ll never be able to escape the hive mind on their own. It will take an outside intervention to free them. The Dracos’ actions go against the universal Law of Oneness, and they will pay dearly for it in terms of their own karma, just as my people have.”

  Tom said, “I don’t see how your people have been punished at all.”

  Bechard solemnly explained, “The Dracos were concerned the Anunnaki would step in and help mankind because our planet Nibiru was approaching earth once more. They knew the Anunnaki felt responsible for you since they were your original creators. To prevent any sort of intervention, the Dracos gave the United States government advanced laser beam technology, which they used to punch a hole in our atmosphere, quickly destroying all life on my planet.” The fallen angel’s eyes watered with tears, but he refused to let them fall. He took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. “Every living thing on Nibiru was annihilated shortly before I met you. Any hope I had of returning home was gone forever—so I set my sights on saving this one.”

  “I’m sorry,” Zachary said.

  Instead of giving the expected response, Bechard turned his
head, studying something inside the crystal ball. After a moment, he commented, “Well, this is new.”

  Curious, everyone focused on the glass sphere. They watched a scientist, who was standing in front of a microscope, hold an industrial silver-hooded light near the slide beneath the lens. A blue beam of light flashed, then the scientist peered into the microscope to examine its effects. After a moment, he lifted his head to type on a laptop.

  Wanting to know what was going on, Bechard repositioned the crystal ball’s perspective directly over the microscope. The Earth Sentinels stared down the lens. A magnification of 400x revealed a micro-sized clear crystal nestled among red blood cells. This unique crystal had a fiber, which resembled a plant root, growing out of it. The fiber wiggled as it grew in length until two new offshoots spontaneously sprouted from its tip. Each of these runners began forming their own crystal buds.

  “What the hell is that!?” Cecile exclaimed.

  Bechard gave his opinion, “It appears to be some sort of biological crystal. Very strange. I haven’t seen—”

  “Shouldn’t you know?” Tom asked.

  “Contrary to popular belief, I am not God. However, I will keep an eye on this to find out.”

  Anguish flooded over Zachary. “This just keeps getting worse.”

  A rare flash of irritation crossed Bechard’s face. “If mankind wasn’t so weak minded, this virus outbreak would never have occurred.”

  The young man was perplexed by the fallen angel’s comment. “What do you mean? Are you saying it’s our fault?”

  “In a round-about way, yes.” Bechard became sympathetic. “Let me explain. The Interstellar Senate, which is a collective of leaders from throughout the galaxy, has been watching mankind’s development ever since the Dracos first modified you, and you began procreating. As a self-perpetuating species, mankind had become part of the universal journey. This status entitled you to protection under the Law of Oneness, which meant no other species could interfere with your progress. It also meant no one outside the human race could rule you directly—”

  “Wait a minute, didn’t the Anunnaki rule over us?”

  “Yes, we did. But, after your ‘fall’, we were forced to use demigods to rule you. They were half human and half Anunnaki—the Sumerian kings of old. Demigod priests were also useful for maintaining control. Later, to circumvent this same restriction, the Dracos ruled you using their human hybrids, also known as the elite, Illuminati, world leaders, priests and royalty, who were all offered protection, wealth and privileges as incentives to betray mankind.”

  “Sure, you call it a betrayal when the Dracos do it,” Tom scoffed.

  “If it will make you happy, both parties were guilty. Shall I move on?”

  Tom maintained the scowl on his face, but nodded.

  “After millenniums of war and the use of nuclear weapons during World War II, the Interstellar Senate declared that if humans didn’t change their ways, interim representatives would be put in place to govern you before you ruined this precious planet.

  “Assuming you wouldn’t change, the senate put out a call for volunteer representatives, but the only ones to respond were the fallen angels and Dracos. Each claimed a right to oversee the human race, not on a temporary basis, but permanently. Their claims were taken seriously for several reasons. First and foremost, both the fallen angels and Dracos share a common ancestry with you, and second, both live on this planet. It is their home as well. And last, but not least, because of their role in your development, the senate couldn’t ignore their right to self-correct their past wrongs. So, despite neither the fallen angels or Dracos having your best interests at heart, the lesser of the two evils was chosen, and the fallen angels were given permission to come out from the shadows and rule mankind. But only if you did not change your ways.

  “This decree changed very little for the fallen angels, who were content to wait for your inevitable failure. However, the Dracos saw it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity they weren’t going to let slip through their fingers. So they stepped up their plan by more aggressively continuing their genetic manipulations, and placing hybrids into every top-level leadership position around the world. These mind-controlled humans were appointed as the presidents, dictators and generals who instigated continual wars; the CEOs and bankers who profited from the wars; the educational trustees who dumbed down your textbooks; the religious leaders who told the believers they were God’s favorites; and the scientists who assured you the poisons were safe while never mentioning that GMOs, pesticides and herbicides, and vaccines were designed to alter and weaken your DNA to make your bodies more receptive to the Dracos’ genetic blueprint.”

  “Why didn’t the fallen angels stop the Dracos?” Zachary asked.

  “It would have been a bloody war. Plus the fallen angels would have risked losing favor with the senate. But mostly, I suspect they were letting the lizards do the dirty work for them, thinking they would bypass the karmic retributions against their own race, not realizing the Dracos were capable of implementing a master plan to take over the world. However, that’s just my guess. I’m not sure what the fallen angels were thinking. As master mind readers, they cloak their thoughts very well.”

  “Couldn’t they read the Dracos’ minds?”

  “No. When the Dracos communicate, they use their hive mind, which has proven to be impenetrable from the outside. However, once their thoughts reach the hybrids, they are easily picked up. To counteract this, the Dracos have been very careful not to divulge their plans to the hybrids, who have been, and still are, compartmentalized very effectively.

  “But let’s get back to the story. Decades went by before the Interstellar Senate finally gave the fallen angels permission to take over.”

  “This was recently, correct?” asked Cecile.

  “Yes. But the Dracos struck first by spreading the deadly virus, using military, passenger and commercial planes to kill over seventy percent of the human population and nearly all of your leaders—essentially thrusting the world back into the dark ages, leaving you cold and hungry, and paralyzed by fear.”

  Tom was skeptical. “Didn’t the Dracos kill the leaders they put in place?”

  “Yes, they did. But even this was part of the plan. Because right after the virus outbreak, the Dracos utilized the existing United Nations’ infrastructure, which they created, so they could assign their new and improved hybrids to the UN positions in military bases around the world. These blond-haired, blue-eyed mind-controlled hybrids took charge of every single country’s armies without firing a single shot. Ingenious really. The human foot soldiers blindly obeyed, thinking they were restoring order instead of helping to enslave themselves and mankind.”

  “But why do they want to control us?” Tom asked. “Why not just kill us, and keep the earth’s resources for themselves?”

  Bechard looked the man straight in the eyes. “You are the resource.”

  Tom’s face paled.

  “The easiest way to explain it would be to show you.” The fallen angel stepped up to the crystal ball. “But be prepared, these are graphic scenes.”

  A gray-walled room came into view. A dozen reptilian officers sat at a long stone table. They wore black military dress uniforms. Their skin was scaly with an olive tone. They had red-hued eyes with slitted pupils, and pointed teeth. Their forked tongues occasionally flicked in and out of their bony mouths. A ridge formed at the top of their foreheads and ran over their scalps and down their necks, disappearing beneath their collars. Their ears were small, almost nonexistent. And, instead of fingernails, they had sharp claws.

  Tom offered his two cents, “They look like gargoyles that bred with humans.”

  “Shhh,” Cecile whispered. She wanted to hear what was said next.

  The Supreme Leader, Zycar, who sat at the head of the table, had a distinct appearance from the others. His face resembled a skull because of his ashen skin, sunken eyes and exposed pointed teeth. Ridged horns curved out of th
e sides of his head. A patch of long white hair grew from the center of his scalp and hung down to his shoulders. He turned toward the silvery door, gruffly shouting, “It’s time!”

  His command prompted a blue beam to flash over a door, which was the color and consistency of mercury, slowly swirling. The door became pure energy instead of physical particles, leaving the entryway wide open. A gray alien entered, presumably male because he wore what could only be described as a butler’s jacket with no shirt underneath. His hairless body stood about four feet tall. He wasn’t wearing pants, although it didn’t matter since he had no visible genitalia. His large almond eyes were completely black and spanned the width of his face. His long skinny neck supported his oversized head. And his tiny nose, if you could call it that, was little more than a fold with two slits above where his mouth should have been. The gray alien, who was assisted by a second one, carried the front end of a metal stretcher on which a semi-conscious, prepubescent girl lay whimpering. Her legs and arms were tied down. Cuts had been inflicted all over her small body. Blood oozed from her wounds, congealing at the bottom of the deep-dish metal tray that was set in the middle of the table with the victim’s head closest to the commander.

  Those sitting around the table hungrily eyed the human entrée, hissing with anticipation.

  A third gray alien entered the room carrying a gleaming butcher knife and copper pitcher. With his four-digit hands, he held the pitcher under the girl’s neck as he slit her throat. Her eyes flared wide with terror as her blood spurted into the container. She only had time to utter, “Mommy…” before the rapid blood loss caused her to mercifully lose consciousness, then her heart stopped beating.

  The butler began filling the goblets on the table, starting with those highest in command.

  After everyone was served, Zycar picked up his goblet, toasting to the others in the room, communicating through the hive mind, To our nourishment!