FIRST IN THE NEPHILIM SERIES
NEPHILIM
CHRIS CHARLES
Copyright © 2016 Chris Charles
All rights reserved.
ISBN-10:151685330X
ISBN-13:9781516853304:
DISCLAIMER
Hello reader. Before you get started I’d just like to thank you for taking this journey with me.
First of all I’d like to point out that I myself come from a Christian background and have had a Christian upbringing but this book is not tailored or targeted towards a Christian only audience.
It is a work of fictional writing, along with the characters, organisations, places and events and has been developed under the themes of religion and fantasy to entertain and challenge your imagination; for all peoples; from all different walks of life.
Enjoy.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A special thanks goes out to the people that have helped me create this book and bring my ideas to life. To the person that inspired me to take the first step and begin writing; I would like to say thank you for believing in me and pushing me to realise my potential.
Exceptional credits go to KershallDesign, Linda Ronald, Anton Rosovsky and Elegant Dezine for their outstanding input and graphic design services that have helped to give my work an identity of its own.
Commendations to Sian Lesley Lauren Smith for her meticulous editorial work.
And last but not least, the people that the books characters are based on; thank you for being in my life. You are all an inspiration to me.
INTRODUCTION
The Nephilim[a] were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came into the daughters of man and they bore children to them. These were the mighty men who were of old, the men of renown (Genesis 6:4).
CHAPTER 1
“SHIT!” shouted Andrew repeatedly, as he ran with every fibre of his being. Something malevolent in nature was chasing him. The unadulterated hostility could be felt closing in on him. Whatever it was; was set on ending his existence.
Dodging through tree after tree, Andrew glanced backward frantically to see if he could identify how close the creature was.
His eyes were only met with a huge impending dark shadow that was drawing ever nearer to him as he fled with enthusiastic vigour. All his sight was certain of was that this creature had imposing wings and could fly with a destructive force, as the forest behind him was laid waste to its immense stampeding charge.
It was a sight to behold, even at a glimpse, and the sheer shock and awe of such destructive power was enough to throw Andrew off his footing. As he tripped and tumbled, his speed and momentum carried him downhill until with a large thud, his skull met with a tree. Gathering himself and wincing in pain, dizzy and confused, he felt his head and checked his hands for blood.
“Argh!” He let out a sigh of pain which was then followed by a half-hearted pant of relief, as there were no signs of blood on his palms. This feeling quickly left him however and was replaced by a deep sense of impending doom as the sky above him quickly filled with darkness. Andrew scurried up against the tree, trying to regain steadiness, as the figure circled the airspace above then swiftly plummeted headfirst towards the ground, landing with authority, a few inches from his feet. The ground shuddered and cracked under the force. Loose debris of leaves, stones, branches and twigs were thrown through the air in every direction as the sheer force of its arrival sent a shockwave of pressure over the land. Whatever this creature was… it was extremely powerful.
“So this is what they would have me do now,” said a disgruntled, scratchy voice. “You are merely a child, nothing more! They waste my talents on such feeble duties!”
It speaks?! Thought Andrew, as so many ideas of what could have been chasing him passed through his concussed head. Amongst the blurs, Andrew tried to make out what was before him.
The figure was on one knee. A bony, long finger-nailed hand planted steadfast in the earth. Its wings seemed to totally envelop the shoulders and arms. That was, until it rose to stand. Slowly, a statuesque figure in height emerged, with an imposingly evil demeanour. Andrew watched as its wings then recoiled, seemingly and comfortably behind its back, out of sight, as if never present to begin with. What was left was a very dark man in a black ensemble, with rigid, tough, skin and long, black hair. His eyes were tarnished yellow and feral in nature.
As he tried to piece together what to do next the fear of what was to come gripped him.
“You insult me.” screamed the creature. Focusing his gaze to the heavens, arms flung apart and with a sense of brashness he exclaimed, “Is this really HIM?!” He bellowed. “REALLY?! THIS IS A WASTE OF TIME, I AM BETTER THAN THIS!”
Turning his gaze towards Andrew, the man advanced with an evil intention in his eyes. As he neared him, the figure extended his arm and took a grip of his throat. Andrew could feel the ground escape from underneath him as he felt himself hoisted up, his windpipe tightening from the clamp of this murderous creature’s grip. Now fighting for his life, each breath became shorter and shorter. Mustering up all the energy he could, he threw a wild and desperate punch, directly at his attackers face. His aim was anything but precise, but it was enough to make his foe release him and catch his breath. Azazel threw him into a tree with a convincing wallop.
“HOW DARE YOU!” the creature proclaimed, as it spat out blood from its lips. He recoiled in pain. The expression on its face as it clutched its jaw was one of disbelief and shock. “YOU DARE PLACE YOUR HANDS ON ME!” He started towards Andrew again, with merciless intent in each step. By this time, Andrew was an exhausted heap on the floor, a lamb waiting to be slaughtered. The creature stood over him, raised its hand slowly, clinically, all four fingers pointed, with sharp talon like nails extended, ready to deliver the killing blow with precision and malice.
Andrew slowly looked up. Concussed and physically spent, he awaited his inevitable end.
The ordeal had taken too much out of him and as the creature delivered the execution, his vision slowly faded to darkness.
CHAPTER 2
“Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday to you.” Andrew awoke to the loving, soulful voice of his mother, Emelia.
Emelia Robertson was a short, black woman, average build. Hard working and God-fearing she raised Andrew as a single parent, as his father passed away when he was seven. Though tough, she was a woman of wisdom, elegance and substance and had unwavering faith in God. She raised Andrew in the church, but once he was old enough, she left him to his own choices but was always there to support him.
“Mum stop! Please, I’m not 5!” he grunted, face in his pillow, as he finally stirred.
“Mm-hmm you may be 18 today but you’re still my Baby boy,” she exclaimed. “Now get your ass outta bed, your breakfast is on the table.”
“OK, OK,” Andrew replied with a smirk on his face. Half asleep he quickly gave his phone the once over, checking all areas of social media, to find overwhelming amounts of birthday wishes and greetings from friends and family. He stood up and drew the curtains, the radiance of the morning sun enveloped his face and he let out a loud yawn. “It’s my birthday, it’s my birthday,” he repeated, followed by a happy dance. He made his way downstairs to eat. As he opened the living room door, his eyes were greeted with a sight that instantly produced a huge grin on his face.
“Happy 18th Birthday baby,” his mother said softly. The table had been set, with a breakfast banquet worthy of a king. Plus, a huge birthday cake made of soft sponge with cream and jam in the middle, covered in icing; Andrew’s favourite.
“Mum, this looks amazing, thank you,” he said, as he hugged her. “I love you.”
“Only the best for my boy.” Emelia sat down at the table. “Come
on now, dig in already,” she ordered.
After breakfast, Andrew knew what was coming next. The favourite part of his birthday; presents. And this year was a good one, maybe because he was 18. Although only being raised by a single parent he never had a hard upbringing. His mother was a doctor at the local county hospital. They lived in the tranquil suburbs of Whittaker Falls, Northborough. They had a nice house, in a nice neighbourhood. She was strict on him when it came to education which resulted in him attending a good college, where he became a standout in his college football team.
Andrew was about 6’2”, shaved head, brown eyes and around 200lbs. This kind of size baffled many people but his mother would always say he took after his father. As a child he was a fast developer, learning to walk and run at merely 6 months. He never suffered from any illnesses growing up and was an attentive and imaginative child. The one thing that stood out most, though was how empathetic he was towards other people, even at such a young age. As he grew up, he became a respectable, likeable character, making friends with whoever he could in his community by volunteering at his local church and school, something his mother urged him to do, but nonetheless it made him into the man he was today. He was studying Business, but once he got to college he fell in love with the gym and football, which resulted in him having a well-chiselled physique which wasn’t just for show, he could run, jump and throw better than anyone in his team. These traits got him the role of quarterback, which essentially made him one of the most popular people in school.
As his mother cleared the table, Andrew tucked his chair underneath the table and excused himself upstairs to get ready for college.
“Thanks again for the breakfast, ma, the food was awesome.”
“No problem baby,” she replied.
He jumped in the shower, cleaned up, then preceded to the mirror to brush his teeth.
Game day today Andrew, let’s get focused, you got a big day ahead of you, he thought to himself, concentrated on his own reflection. Brushing done, he took a swig of mouthwash, gargled and spat into the sink. But as he looked back up into the mirror he was suddenly taken aback.
“What the fa…,” his voice dissipating as he searched his face in shock and awe.
His eyes had gone from their original shade of brown to a piercing, illuminated cyan blue. He stood, confused in the mirror, pulling the skin around his eyes downwards to examine this unexplainable transformation.
“How is that possible?!” he examined both eyes until they became irritated and he had to blink to cull the stinging. As he did so, he looked back into the mirror and his eyes were normal again.
He swayed his head slowly left to right checking each eye, and then with relief and a smile, he sighed, “Man, I’m letting today’s pressure get to me. Gotta stay focused!” He walked to his bedroom to get dressed. What to wear today? He thought. Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp yell.
NO! He held his temples and winced in pain.
“Arrrggggh, what is that?!” he grimaced to one knee.
Please, don’t, it won’t happen again I promise, pleaded the voice in his head. Trying to gather his thoughts and pinpoint where the voices were coming from, Andrew stumbled back to this feet, only to be knocked back down by the sound of a violent slap. He doubled over in pain, as the sound resonated like a vibration through his ear placing him off balance.
Then just as quickly as it had begun, the noises stopped and all was silent again.
On all fours now, head facing downwards, breathing heavily out of his mouth, Andrew tried to gather himself together. The summer heat combined with the ordeal had left him sweating on his bedroom floor. He wiped his brow and sat against his bed, trying to piece together what just happened.
“Baby, are you ok?” a voice cried out from downstairs.
He reluctantly replied, “Yeah ma’ I’m fine.”
As he sat pondering, he noticed the time. “SHIT!” He was running late. He threw together an outfit, grabbed his bag and varsity jacket and hurried out the door. He darted down the stairs but was met by his mother standing by the door.
“Slow down boy, what’s the rush?” she said with a calm but calculating smirk on her face.
“Mum, I’m gonna miss the bus for college, I’ve gotta go.”
“OOOH, OK. Well, you must not want your final present then?” her smirk had now become a full grin. She slowly opened the door to reveal, a brand new black Mercedes SLK, parked on the driveway.
“Th-Th is that…,” he stuttered in amazement.
“Yes, it’s all yours, you deserve it,” she said with a smile on her face. “You only turn 18 once,” she threw him the keys. “Happy Birthday.”
He caught them with enthusiasm and headed out the door with a skip in his step, screaming at the top of his lungs. He took about 5 minutes admiring the car before actually getting into it. As he sat in the driver’s seat, slowly getting to grips with the gear stick and steering wheel, he let out one last scream.
“WOOOOOOO!!!”
His celebratory scream was quickly interrupted by “BE RESPONSIBLE BOY! MONEY DON’T GROW ON TREES,” his mother reminded him.
He pulled off the drive, and set off, but not before screaming, “MUM, YOU’RE THE BEST, THANK YOU!”
He screeched off. After driving a few blocks, he stopped at traffic lights. Still in awe of his new car he took the waiting time to adjust everything to his liking. He tilted the seat back, plugged the auxiliary cord into his phone, turned up the music and lowered the roof. Now he felt comfortable, although to everyone else it just looked like he was showing off. Head bopping, fingers tapping and aviators on, the lights turned green and he sped off.
CHAPTER 3
The new car scent could be smelt from afar as Andrew parked up at his college. That plus the fact the car was giving off a radiating glisten from the overpowering sunlight of a crystal clear sky was enough to attract attention to Andrew’s presence. By the time he had put the roof back up and hit the central locking, a small crowd had gathered.
“Happy Birthday Bro!”
“Happy 18th Andrew!”
“Hey A.R. Nice car!”
“Andrew, Happy Birthday!”
“A.R, you’re gonna kill in the game today. We’re all routing for ya!”
He replied with the customary, “Thanks,” repeatedly amidst a wave of fist bumps and high fives. Then an all too recognisable voice pierced through the noise as the crowd dispersed.
“So, the King finally arrives in his chariot of awesomeness.” The sarcastic yet humorous tone could only belong to one person; Andrew’s best friend, Jaime.
“HA HA, you like?” Andrew replied.
“Of course I do, I’m the one that picked it,” Jaime said with a sense of pride. “Your mum came to me with the idea months ago, which may I add, was a very smart thing to do as no one knows you better than I do, plus that and the fact you tell me everything and I’m pretty sure you’ve gone on about that damn Mercedes about 1000 times since you passed your test!”
Jaime Hector was pretty similar to Andrew. They both shared the same sense of humour and interests in most things but would constantly debate on everything. Jaime was of mixed race, had short, afro, dark brown hair, and was around 6’2” with green eyes. He had a firm bulky physique, however, unlike Andrew he wasn’t a jock and was more interested in the arts and creative aspects of college life. They had been friends since they were kids, as their mothers had met at the local church bible study. No one knew Andrew better than Jaime. The one thing that stood out about Jaime was his interest in all things conspiracy. He believed in all sorts, from aliens to secret government organisations; even the occult. He researched constantly, always rambling on his findings to Andrew, which would no doubt end in some form of debate.
Andrew laughed and reciprocated with a huge, brotherly hug. “Hahaha, you are the man.”
“I know,” said Jaime with a nonchalant, self-glorified expression on his face. They walked and talked to
wards class. “So you ready for the finals later?”
Andrew gave an unsure, hesitant reply. “Yeah of course man,” his voice sounded uneasy.
“OK, what’s up man?” Jaime knew something was off. Andrew rolled his eyes and sighed.
“OK, if I tell you, you can’t think I’m crazy, ok?”
Jaime gave a look of concern mixed with curiosity but complied, “This is me you’re talking to, and I’m the last person to judge you on being crazy.” They both laughed in agreement.
“OK, so this morning I was in the bathroom and…”
“You found a lump? Or, or it stung when you peed?” Jaime interrupted.
“NO MAN! Be serious will you!” Andrew laughed and carried on. “So this morning I was in the bathroom, (his voice changed in pitch) BRUSHING MY TEETH, and something weird happened. My eyes just...just changed colour.”
Jaime looked at him, unflappably, and with all the knowledge his mind had acquired over the years, all the intricate details and theories he had come across in his research, he replied with, “IS THAT IT!”
Andrew tried to reconsider with his reply, “What do you mean is that it? Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“Bro, eye colour changing isn’t a big deal. It happens every day, shit like that can be explained by science,” said Jaime, dismissing Andrew’s statement.
“OK, well, after that I was getting ready to go in my bedroom and I started hearing voices in my head. You can’t say that’s not weird!?” pleaded Andrew.
“Hmmm, what did the voices say?” Jaime said, now intrigued.
“It sounded like a woman pleading or something like she was apologising for something. I dunno, sounded like an argument. Then there was a loud like slapping noise, and then it stopped.” Andrew looked at Jaime for a sign of understanding. Jaime placed his hand on Andrew’s shoulder.
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