Nephilim

by Christopher Charles

  Meanwhile in the toilet, Andrew paced up and down trying to gain control of his temper. Inhaling and exhaling slowly he grunted loudly and slammed his fist on the bathroom countertop. Eventually composing himself Andrew walked back to his table. Louise was sat there, playing with her food. She hadn’t eaten a bite. Feeling responsible for him being agitated, it was visibly clear she felt ashamed and regretful of what had just happened. He sat down and held her hand. Trying to lighten the mood he asked her, “Not hungry anymore?”

  She smiled and apologised for her ex’s behaviour. But as they began reconciling her phone began to ring. Andrew could see the caller id and knew it was Carl. She let it ring out but he left a message.

  “Play the message.” Insisted Andrew. His tone took a deeper note.

  “That’s not going to improve the situation.” Pleaded Louise.

  “Play the voicemail now!” he calmly demanded.

  Louise unlocked the phone and deleted the message, “There, it’s gone. You have nothing to worry to about now.”

  Just as she thought it couldn’t get any worse, Louise’s phone began to vibrate. Andrew swiftly grabbed it before Louise could reach for it.

  “Give me my phone Andrew.”

  He looked at her for a few seconds, as if he was listening. But proceeded to ignore her anyway and read the text;

  Tell your new friend to mind his business or he might end up in a world of hurt.

  The fury he had just diminished reignited in him tenfold and he could feel something change inside. A silent whisper began to ring out in his mind.

  Destroy Him.

  Do not let him disrespect you.

  He deserves to be punished.

  Gritting his teeth, Andrew grabbed his head and massaged his temples. The voices became louder and louder. He laughed quietly but maniacally and replied to the text then slid the mobile across the table to Louise.

  “What did you say, Andrew?” He didn’t reply. Instead, he responded by placing both elbows on the table and rubbing his head with his hands. Softly under his breath, he began to talk to himself.

  “Andrew?! What did you say?” Her voice rose as she became irritated with his behaviour. “Andrew, answer me?!”

  As she said those words, he stopped everything and slowly he looked up and faced Louise.

  “A-Andrew? Are you ok?” her reaction went from one of resentment to extreme concern.

  “I feel wonderful,” said Andrew.

  “But your eyes, there’s something wrong with your eyes.” She fiddled nervously in her purse for her make-up mirror and handed it to Andrew. He checked his reflection. His eyes had become blood shot and the white areas had begun to turn to a mild yellow. Normally something like this would have scared Andrew, however, this time he welcomed the new look he saw in his reflection. Smiling a sinister smirk he complemented himself, “I think it’s an improvement if you ask me,” he said with a raspy voice. He clapped the mirror shut and threw it to Louise.

  She could sense something was wrong and became uneasy. Checking her phone she searched through her last sent messages. But before she could read the text Andrew had sent, Carl had arrived back at the restaurant. Andrew saw him through the shop front window and instantly stood up to meet him at the entrance. Louise quickly chased after him but he was already face to face with Carl outside the restaurant door.

  “Didn’t I tell you to mind your business, boy?” proclaimed Carl.

  Suddenly he swung for Andrew. His punch landed accurately across Andrews face. It was a solid blow, packed with enough power to knock any man unconscious. Louise along with other bystanders looked on in shock. She ran to the manager and begged him to call the police. Carl laid into Andrew with repeated shots to his face and body, but still Andrew kept getting up with relative ease. Frustrated Carl proceeded to change his attack and perform a kick aimed at his chest. However, Andrew caught his foot just before impact. Holding him off balance Andrew began to laugh loudly and psychotically like he was toying with him.

  “My turn,” he said. As if Carl’s leg was a matchstick he drove his forearm through it, breaking it effortlessly. The sight of a bone snapping was too much for some and customers began to scream hysterically. This was accompanied by the yelling cries coming from the victim. Howling in pain Carl fell to the floor, but Andrew wasn’t done. Now standing over him he grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him into the air. Holding this grown man above him, like he weighed the equivalent of a bag of feathers, he began to choke him. Then something caught his eye. He noticed his reflection in the window. His eyes were now dark mustard yellow with a pure black pupil and his canines had grown substantially in size. Disgusted by what he saw yet corrupted by the power he was now wielding, he flung Carl into the large sheet of glass, instantly smashing his body through it. People in the restaurant backed away in tremendous fear. Andrew jumped through the gap where the window was and began to stalk his bloodied fallen opponent.

  Police sirens could be heard entering the block as people began to exit the restaurant amidst the carnage. Andrew now had a bloodlust in his eyes and his intentions were to permanently finish Carl. His emotions were in full control and he was totally consumed by his jealousy and rage. Louise rushed over and tried to talk Andrew down.

  “Please Andrew; you’ve proved your point. Let’s just leave, Police will be here soon.”

  He paid her no attention, looking straight through her. When she physically tried to get between him and Carl, he coldly brushed her aside. His purpose was clear. The voices in his head were telling him that Carl needed to be dealt with accordingly.

  Not knowing what was going to happen next the remaining witnesses feared the worse. But then a voice from the back of the restaurant diverted their frightful anticipations.

  That’s enough Mr. Robertson.” Even Andrew himself was momentarily interrupted by the authoritative command.

  “You’ve clearly made your point, A.R now back away.”

  Coach Stevens carried on sipping his tea. Whilst the melee was happening he had been the only bystander that remained calm and carried on with his meal. He slowly placed his cup down on the table and shut his book.

  Composed, he carefully made his way over to Andrew until he was face to face with him. The only thing standing between him and Carl’s demise. He leant forward until he was at nose length. Whispering into Andrew’s ear he warned him, “I suggest you calm that temper, or I’ll do it for you.” Then stepped back. His stance was undiscouraged, confident and prepared.

  Andrew sniggered patronizingly then went on the offense. But unlike Carl, Coach had years of military training. He easily out manoeuvred Andrew’s wild attacks and used his own speed and strength against him.

  Finally, he subdued Andrew by engaging a pressure point in his shoulder. As he winced in agony Andrew fell to one knee.

  Something strange then followed. The area that Coach appeared to be holding began to burn and smoke. This then immediately seemed to wake Andrew out of his wrath filled trance. Coach looked into his eyes fiercely. It was as if he was waiting for some kind of confirmation. Andrew’s eyes slowly faded back to normal, and Coach released him. He seemed confused like his mind had been elsewhere. Frantically he searched the room for a face he recognized. Mr. Stevens stepped into his view. “C-c-coach?” He then collapsed and passed out just as Police flooded the area and rushed in amongst broken glass and damaged furniture.

  An intense beacon shone through the cracks in his eyelids as Andrew slowly opened them. The piercing radiance of the ceiling lights probed his vision and he squinted trying to adjust to his new surroundings. He examined himself and quickly realised he was in a hospital bed. Perplexed and panicked he anxiously jumped up looking around. Checking himself for any damage he gradually fell calm as he ascertained he was ok. Slowly he sat up and called for assistance. The doctor came to his aid accompanied by his mother, Louise and Coach Stevens.

  His mum hysterically embraced him, “Baby, you ok?” She held him tigh
tly as tears filled her eyes. “Praise God,” she repeated as she squeezed her son.

  “I’m feeling ok ma.” He replied. Andrew turned to Louise. She seemed nervous. Her make-up had run from where she had been crying. He extended his hand to her. She was hesitant at first but then reciprocated. He pulled her towards him and they embraced. “Good to see you’re still with us champ,” she said fighting back tears. He smiled. “You gave us all another scare”.

  Andrew couldn’t remember what had happened. “How long have I been out for?” he asked. “About 5 hours,” said the doctor. He yawned and then turned to Louise again. “What happened?” he asked.

  Louise explained how the incident transpired. The details made him question his own sanity because it didn’t sound like something he would do.

  “I broke someone’s leg!?” he said clearly shocked by his own actions.

  “You probably would have killed him if Coach didn’t stop you,” explained Louise. Andrew’s eyes met with the staunch figure of Mr. Stevens. “I guess I owe you a thanks sir.”

  They were then interrupted by the Police. Louise left with them to provide a statement. The doctor then addressed Emelia and they withdrew from Andrew’s bedside to go over medical issues. He was left in the company of Coach Stevens.

  The stalwart eyes of Mr. Stevens looked straight at Andrew, to the point he felt uncomfortable. His assertive tone broke the awkward silence.

  “How long has this been happening, Andy?”

  “I don’t know what you mean coach, this is the first time something like this has happened.” Replied Andrew.

  “Second time you mean.” Coach reminded him of the wrestling incident at college.

  “Have you experienced any other peculiar changes recently?” Andrew tried to act as if he didn’t know what he was talking about.

  Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his phone. After going through it for a few seconds, he handed the phone to Andrew, who’s mouth slowly dropped in shock.

  “H-How did you get these?” said Andrew. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Somehow Coach had photos of him lifting up Jaime’s car from the night of the party. Retrieving his phone, he handed Andrew a card.

  “Call me tomorrow at midday. We have some things to talk about.”

  Louise then returned with the Police, the doctor and Emelia. They deemed Andrew fit enough to be questioned and he willingly gave a statement. Once everything was done, he was cleared to go home.

  The drive home was a quiet one. Emelia constantly switched her vision from the road to the passenger seat, checking on Andrew. She could tell he was tired and weary. Andrew looked distant and bewildered.

  How could he know?

  And who else has seen those pictures?

  Has he been following me? And if so, for how long? He thought to himself.

  Reaching in his pocket, he felt the card and remembered what his instructions were. Deep down he wanted an explanation but was nervous as he knew he’d have to give up some truths himself.

  He pondered over his situation for a few blocks then they arrived at home

  “I suggest you head to bed baby, you need your rest.” Said his mother. She kissed him on the forehead and he made his way up the stairs to his room.

  Lying in bed, he contemplated what could happen if he decided to meet Coach Stevens the next day.

  What if the rumours of him working for the government are true?

  What if he kidnaps me?

  He might try and perform experiments on me.

  Then again he might have the answers I’m looking for.

  His mind became carried away with conflicting thoughts. Fiddling with the card Coach had given him he finally made a decision. He set his alarm for 10 am and placed the card on his bedside table. Rolling over he quietly recited the Lord’s Prayer, something he hadn’t done in years. Then he dropped to sleep.

  Unbeknownst to him however…was that the next day would be the first in a series of events that would change his life…

  …Forever.

  CHAPTER 9

  Andrew awoke to the sound of voices coming from downstairs. He checked the time. It was 9:20 am. He slowly dragged himself out of bed and down the steps, curious to know who was in his house so early in the morning. Opening the living room door, he was welcomed by the sight of Josh, Jaime and Adam. They were watching the TV and discussing amongst themselves. His mother entered behind him shortly after. She rubbed his head softly, “Morning sleepyhead.” He grunted still half asleep.

  “Finally you up. Umm I should probably warn you that you’re a local celebrity,” said Jaime sarcastically. “We came over as soon as we saw what happened.”

  Andrew yawned, “What you talking about man?” Josh turned up the volume on the TV.

  The local news had managed to produce a story on the fight he was in at the restaurant the previous night and it was all over the national stations. A camera phone had captured the footage of the melee plus witnesses had come forward and given statements. Andrew’s image was plastered all over the TV and the general opinion on his character was mixed. Some people described him as simply defending himself as he was attacked first. Whilst others illustrated him as being a “clinical savage” and a “ruthless aggressor”. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “What the hell man!” he shouted waving his arms at the screen. “They’re making me look like some kinda psycho!”

  Emelia calmed him down then headed off to work. “Guys help yourself to food and stuff, just clean up after yourselves. Andrew, if you need me just call my mobile. And try not to scare me today please; my blood pressure is high enough as it is.” She smiled and hugged him then left.

  As soon as the door shut Jamie muted the TV, “So care to tell us what happened last night?”

  Andrew explained the best way he could as he didn’t remember much, “All I remember is getting so angry to the point I wanted to kill this dude. The rest is a blackout after that.”

  Adam sat taking notes on his phone. Josh peeped over to see what he was doing, “Do you always do geeky shit like that?”

  Adam smiled, “Well it's best to take notes, just in case. We’re still doing research remember.”

  “Lucky Coach was there to calm you down bro,” said Jaime.

  Andrew looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Jaime recognized the expression. “What?” he asked. “What?!”

  Andrew ran upstairs and grabbed the tiny card. He sat back down and passed it to Jaime. “Coach knows.”

  His friends looked puzzled. “What do you mean Coach knows?” asked Josh.

  “He knows about me lifting up your car. He even has photos of me doing it.” A collective unsettling could be felt amongst the four friends. Jaime ran his hands down his face until they covered his mouth.

  “He gave me this card, told me to call him at midday. I dunno what he wants. All I know is he wants to talk.”

  Adam sat tapping his chin.

  “So he has photos of you lifting Jaime’s car. That must mean he knows we know too. But he hasn’t approached any of us. And we can probably presume he knew you would confide in us before calling him. Hmmm.” He paused briefly to calculate. “I think you should go. You have nothing to lose, plus whatever you learn from him we could probably use in our own research. Maybe he’s the key to finding out what’s happening to you or even your father, I mean he’s ex-army right? My theory is starting to sound pretty convincing now isn’t it?” smiled Adam condescendingly.

  Andrew did agree that it did seem coincidental.

  “Just be careful.” Said Josh.

  They conversed a little more on the subject, comparing more ideas and notions whilst eating breakfast. Everyone was nervous about what could happen or result from this meeting but they did all decide it was the logical thing to do.

  An hour or so passed and all 3 friends had left. Andrew got himself ready. He checked the time. 11:50am. Time seemed to stop as the minutes ticked by slowly. He fiddled with his mobile
in his right hand; the card in his left. His hands were sweating with anticipation. He began to type, calling out each number carefully in his head as he read off the card. Placing the phone to his ear, he anxiously listened for a voice. It rung for a couple of seconds.

  “Glad you decided on calling.” Mr. Stevens’ distinctively coarse voice made his pulse increase. He grew nervous but composed his tone. “No problem sir. What did you want to talk to me about?” Asked Andrew.

  “Not on the phone Mr. Robertson. Meet me at the old abandoned church down by Fairview River. Call me when you arrive.” The phone went dead as he hung up. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his keys and got into his car. Following the careful instructions he made his way to meet Coach Stevens.

  Slowly he pulled up outside the grounds of church. It was a few miles out from Whittaker Falls. The damaged area had been declared derelict by the community and was chained up and gated off from the residential roads. With both his hands on the steering wheel, he drove past the no trespassing sign, carefully exploring the unkempt surroundings.

  Fairview River was a long, winding river that eventually lead onto the waterfall that Whittaker’s namesake was famous for. It was surrounded by acres of forest which added to the creepy, haunting effect that the church gave off. The structure itself was worn down from years of aging. There were cracks ever present all over the brickwork.