The Awakening of the Gods (Forgotten Ones)

by M. H. Hawkins

  Because, blood and power, he thought but instead said, “A reaper blade consumes life. And blood is life, and… it was necessary, a sacrifice, an offering of blood. The blade—that blade—has drank from the blood of gods. The Wolf’s, Lilith’s, Azazel’s—I mean, Asher’s… yours… Blackwell’s.”

  Mea thought about it. On this very rooftop, about a week and a half ago, she had pricked her finger on Raven’s sword. And in Irkalla, Raven had smeared her blood on him. It saved his life. And when Raven saved her from Azazel, he’d stuck him, twice. As for the blood from the other gods, she was at a loss. Blood and power. The words seemed to drip off her lips. “Blood and power.”

  Daikon nodded. “If you want to kill a god, you need the blood of gods.” He sighed. “Mea, I… it had to be done. If there was another way, if I thought there was another way, I wouldn’t have done it.”

  Mea unsheathed the sword again and examined the blade. Its blade sparkled like crystal at high noon. Light as it was, as she swung it forward, it felt like swinging a hammer. But when it pulled it back, it was again light as can be.

  “I’m sorry, Daikon mumbled. “I’m sorry that I took them from you,” he added, half-expected her to stab him.

  Gripping the hilt like a vice-grip, she looked like she would, but she didn’t. Instead she slid the sword back into the scabbard, and the glowing light from its blade disappeared, and the night dimmed and turned darker. Looking at Daikon, he wasn’t there.

  Five steps past her, Mea yelled after him.

  With his trench coat flapping behind him and catching on his katana’s scabbard, he yelled back, “I’m sorry, but I have to go. He’s coming for her. He’s coming for her pack.”

  Daikon spun around, scanning the rooftop for… something. A shadow, a dark one. Catching Mea’s eye for a second, he found it. A shadow… at the other end of the building, behind a pile of extra, unused plywood. He huffed and threw up his hands. “I have to go.” I have to warn them.” Then he stepped away.

  “Hey.” Mea slung the scabbard over her back and chased after him. Her clothes shimmered before they folded into her angelic silver armor before turning back into her oversized t-shirt and jeans as the shadows hit her again. “I’m going with you. She came to protect my family. I… I won’t… I won’t let hers die, not tonight.”

  CH 25: Mountain Man

  Atop a tanned mountain that overlooked the village he just had slaughtered, Malick proudly stepped to the edge of a cliff. He looked down from the mountain just as the sun was beginning to peak over them. The ground was foggy, and changing temperature and dawning light painted the horizon in swirls of watered-down blood and thinning cream-colored clouds.

  The quiet rural town lied below, dead to the world and just plain dead. Any other morning, it would have been bustling, coming alive, at the first slivers of sunlight, but this morning it wasn’t. All was quiet—quiet and empty.

  Aside from the whistling wind and some drifting tumbleweeds, the dirt streets were completely still. Quiet, still, and lifeless. The fleeing tire marks from Omar’s truck and the tracks from him and Amara were the only evidence of the previous night.

  Now what are we doing? asked Malick’s inner voice. To which, Malick smiled and said, “We’re watching, waiting.” For what? “the end of the beginning… or the beginning of the end. Just watch.”

  Off to the side, a soft, sweet voice rang out. “It’s the end of days, and you’re sitting up on a mountain, watching a sunrise, talking to yourself. You’re so weird.” Malick glanced to the side with a sly grin curling over the side of his face. His dark, scheming eyes narrowed with mischief.

  It was Lilly. Rising from behind a sharp cliff and a cracked red-rock boulder, she was now wearing a tight black dress, her scarlet ribbons danced out at her sides like brightly colored streamers. They flicked away a few stones that crowded Lilly’s pass to Malick, and then they expertly and elegantly reeled themselves in before slapping against Lilly’s arm and wrapped themselves up and around them.

  “Lilith, nice of you to join us.”

  “It’s Lilly, now. “ Glancing at her rocky path, she waived her hand in the air, sending whatever pebbles that littered her path rushing off the nearby cliff. Now atop a pair of shiny black stilettos that wrapped around her feet and shimmering ankles, she walked over to Malick. Grinding to a halt, she gave Malick a cock-eyed look. “Wait,” she said, “ join… us. Who’s us?”

  “Us,” Malick said, shrugging. “Me,” he said, pointing at himself, “Malick… and my vessel—who is quite noisy and quite inquisitive.”

  “Once Vandriel, now Malick.” Lilly’s eyes grew wide. She huffed before hopping up and grabbing a seat on a nearby boulder. “And your vessel.”

  “Yes.” Malick examined his arm then spread his fingers before squeezing his hand into a tight fist, and then he did it again. “My… vessel. He is… an interesting fellow, not very knowledgeable, but he is amusing.”

  “Stop being so pretentious.” Lilly huffed and looked past Malick, into whatever human was still inside him. “You know what, you don’t have to listen to him. He’s just being rude. There’s no need to be rude.” She adjusted her line of sight. “I’m surprised. Why didn’t you didn’t just kill him?”

  Malick shrugged. “Like I said before, he’s an interesting guy.” He continued talking to himself. “Malick, did you know that crocodiles are the leftovers from one of the prior Cleansings—not the great flood that seems so popular, or the one before that one. It was one of the ones before those—same thing with sharks.” Huh. “Yes, interesting indeed.” He looked over at Lilly. “I found it interesting, that the, ah… the religious zealots, they actually got one right, the dinosaurs—dragons actually—were demons.”

  Lilly rolled her eyes. “Yes, so very fascinating.” Picking at her fingernails, she found that they were quickly becoming more interesting than Malick. “Anyways—wait. The dinosaurs, your dragons, you’re okay with them being classified as demons? That’s kind-of a stretch—a long stretch, don’t you think?”

  Malick shrugged animatedly while pouting out his lips. I don’t know. “They killed off the world; much like my new pets will do, soon. So, demons, dinosaurs… tomato, tom-ot-to. Besides, why do you care? Shouldn’t you be busy, raising Babylon?”

  “Yeah, about that.” Lilly hopped off the stone she was sitting on and on to her feet. “I was planning on doing just that, but I happened to…” She huffed, then with a squinting eye, she said, “I ran into some technical difficulties.” She waved her hand over the side of her dress, near her stomach, and a patch of the dress vanished. Beneath it was Lilly’s half-knitted, half-healed stab wound, a blemish on her otherwise perfect golden flesh. “The Dark One stabbed me. So, while I was still gaining my strength from, you know, waking up, he stabs me. And now… now I have even more healing to do.” Lilly waved her hand over her wound again, and her dress reappeared over her wounded flesh.

  “He stabbed you?” Malick said, smirking and snorting. “So?”

  “So?” Lilly huffed again. “So it hurt.” She shook her head back-and-forth aggressively and grunted. Clearly, you aren’t understanding what I’m saying, clearly. “He had a blade. A sharp one. And I almost died. And my arm too. Look.” Lilly held up her arm. Her red ribbon reeled itself in and unraveled its self from her arm, revealing her sliced arm. “Look,” she insisted again. Malick shrugged, and Lilly huffed as her red ribbon slid out of her wrist and slivered itself over her wound and back up her arm.

  Malick gave her a confused look. “What? We’re immortals. Even if we could die, he’d have to hack you into a thousand pieces… Then, all that would happen would be that your spirit—and your blood—would just spread across the world, recharge, and a new-you would emerge... sooner-or-late. And it wouldn’t even be like you died at all.” Malick grinned his sneaky grin, and his eyes lit up like tiger’s eye again; in colorful waves of hazelnut, amber, and molten orange.

  “Yeah, well… I’m not ready to be spread out
… all across the world—in blood or spirit” Lilly huffed as her frustration grew. “Besides, the Lion already tried that.”

  “Tried what?”

  “Cutting me into pieces,” Lilly snapped back. “She hacked me. Like this.” She reenacted Mea’s slashing movement that cut off over her arm. “Hacked my arm off—sliced it right off… the whole damn arm.”

  “And yet,” said Malick before smiling. “Yet here you stand with two whole arms.”

  “Yeah, that too. I had to drain the Old Wolf to get it back.”

  That got his attention. “The wolves?” Malick said. “The Old Wolf? He’s dead?” Malick laughed then wiped his hand over the sides of his laughing mouth. “Oh my…. Lilith, you are delightful. You killed the Wolf. Wow, I knew I liked you for a reason.”

  Lilly rolled her eyes. Fenrir had given up, she thought, I didn’t kill him. I helped him… and now his blood and spirit are spread across the world, and also dwell in Nisha. “Yeah, well,” she sighed. Careful, Lilly, she thought, warning herself, watch yourself. “He had it coming. And that is also why I’m here.”

  “The wolves?” asked Malick.

  “Yeah, the wolves” Lilly condescended. “Fenrir did his whole… Seven are One ceremony, and a new one took his place. It was a girl. I liked her.”

  “Hopefully she’s not like her father, so full of hope.” Malick added casually before grinning as an evil little thought he had. “Was that how he died, full of hopes and dreams? I certainly hope so.”

  “He died the way all things die, wishing they weren’t.” Lilly huffed, again. “Any-ways, about why I’m here: one of my banshees had a, ah, what the human’s call a ‘coming-to-god’ moment. And she told him that you were coming after the wolves.”

  “So?”

  Lilly pinched her nose in frustration and sighed. “So, they’re probably on their way there to stop you, the Dark One and the Lion.” Daekon and Mea, she thought, so stupid. “So I’m here, out of the goodness of my heart, as a common courtesy—to warn you. That’s it.”

  “The wolves?” Malick chuckled. “Oh, the wolves. That thing. That was just a ruse, a red herring.”

  Malick looked up to the sky and talked to his inner voice. “Do you know what a red herring is?” Yeah, it’s… “It’s a trick, a false-lead.” He looked over at Lilly. “I’m not going after the wolves. I’m going after the boy.”

  A look of shock came across Lilly’s face. She whimpered, “The boy? Why…”

  “Why? because the boy has to die,” he said carelessly. “What do you care? You sent Azazel to kill him.”

  Lilly huffed, and her tail slinked up, just behind her shoulder. It rattled angrily, clearly upset with Malick’s demeanor. “Stop it,” she snapped at it, over her shoulder, whispering through her gritted teeth. “Stop it, right now.” As it obeyed, she sighed. Careful, Lilly. You, too. Don’t draw his wrath, or what comes with it.

  To Malick, she said, “No, I sent Azazel to them, to the boy, so that he could figure out what side he was on. That was why I sent him—to help him decide. Azazel is no more a man than the boy himself is. He needs to pick a side, instead of just moping around all time… pining for the golden years. If he killed the boy, that would have at least been a choice, a decision… more than he’s done in a long time.”

  “And the boy is still alive, so I will finish it, what he and his fallen angels could not finish, I will.” Malick stepped over to the edge of the mountain and looked down on the crashing rocks below him then out to the empty village. Something was stirring. “But since you mentioned it, I’ll probably go after the wolves, too. Why put off tomorrow what you can do today, right?”

  “Look, Malick,” Lilly said, sadder than usual. “Yes, the boy has to die… but not right now… not by you… pets. Let them… let them have whatever time they have left—then kill him.”

  Malick was still staring over the edge of the mountain at the village below, he said, “The boy will die when it’s time, when I say that it’s time.” His eyes lit up. “Watch this,” he said to himself, smiling even bigger than before, as he looked down at the desolate town.

  Shocked at his response and his intentions, Lilly just stared at Malick, expecting him to say something else, or at least explain himself. He did neither. Momentarily saddened, Lilly huffed before puffing out her hand above her head and disappearing into a puff of black smoke.

  Hearing the pfft sound of smoke, Malick did a double-take before realizing she had left. Oh well, he thought, the fun’s about to start, and there’s nothing she can do about it, nothing anyone can do about it. He shrugged dismissively then went back to gazed down at the desolate town.

  What am I watching for? the voice inside him asked. To which, Malick answered softly, “Just watch.”

  Down below, the town grumbled, and its dirt roads vibrated. The buildings, while they weren’t ever the sturdiest building to begin with, they cracked then began folding in on themselves then folding in towards the center of town. Mostly one or two stories and fastened with clay and wood, it didn’t take long. The buildings sank and were nearly sideways before the wall and roofs began snapping off and falling into the growing pit.

  Soon everything was crumbling, and the building sank and broke apart and became nothing more than rubble. Before long, the only thing that remained of the town was a giant sinkhole.

  That disappeared soon enough. The town remained gone, but the dirt returned. Rising like flood waters, the dirt filled in the giant sinkhole with red dirt. And where the town once stood, only the cracked dirt of the barren desert remained.

  Malick smiled, but the voice inside him wasn’t exactly impressed. Wow, that’s it? “No, just keep watching. The babies are hatching.” Babies?

  Once again, the ground where the town had been stirred. In tiny, trashcan-sized circles, the dirt swirl around—like it had done with Isaiah’s goats—with the centers of them became small whirlpools of dirt.

  More whirlpools appeared. Then more and more appeared. The desert began looking like an oversized peg board filled with trashcan-sized holes. Soon, it was covered with them, thousands of small trashcan-sized holes.

  By now, the sun had risen, and the sky had changed from red to the hue of liquefied gold mixed with red-hot molten lava. Better to see them with, Malick thought.

  As the sun rose, the whirlpools sank deeper into the earth and soon became too deep to see into, and the trashcan-sized holes were filled with darkness. Faint cracking sounds began echoing out of them. What am I watching for? What are those sounds? “Eggshells. Their eggshells are cracking. The babies are hatching.”

  Large lizard-like claws peaked out the holes then dug in to the edges of the burrows. More appeared out of each of the thousand holes. When the creatures’ other claws appeared, Malick smiled, positively happy with himself. Finally pulling themselves out of their dirt cocoons, Malick felt his inner voice shiver. What… How… Those things. “Ah, my pets. They are the... the dragons, the sharks, of this cycle. In the Age of Miracles, I will show them horrors. As for the how? Well, they are hungry little beasts. Fed every few hundred years…” The missing towns, the villages that vanished… “Yes, see, you’re catching on. When they’re young, they don’t need too much to feed—a few villages here and there, every fifty-hundred years or such.” But they’re… “Bigger than you thought? Yes, they are.”

  The creatures’ teeth chattered—looking something like a crocodiles’ muzzle filled with rows of shark teeth thumping up and down. Sharp and symmetrical, their teeth were two thin, white, sharp rows.

  The beasts shook the dirt off themselves, out of their matted coats of fur. When the dirt was finally dusted off them, Malick could see the jet-black coloring of their matted fur, just before their coats began lightening to match the reddish dirt of the desert.

  Larger than the premature ones that sprouted outside Mea’s home, these ones were the size of tigers. Still, bodies were flatter and lower to the ground. Their hind legs were beast-like, but the cla
ws were more reptilian—like those of a Komodo Dragons—but had three large, black talons peaked out of the ends of each of their meaty paws. Their eyes were reptilian, yet larger. Slightly smaller than footballs, they were bright yellow and covered in black speckles.

  Their tales were long and swept back and forth behind them. Long and narrow, they lashed out like harpoon guns before returning to normal. Their stingers were barbed spear ready to lash out at any given time.

  Malick chuckled again. “See? Now wasn’t that worth the wait?” Disgusting. “Yes, they are quite hideous, aren’t they?” Quite. “And deadly.” Oh, I’m sure. Malick nodded. “They are the perfect tool for the job.” Death and destruction? “Oh, yes. So much death and destruction.” Malick put two pinched finger to his lips and whistled.

  The nearest one, in the center of the first row of holes, thrashed it head around before responding to Malick’s whistle. It looked up the mountain and saw Malick standing at the edge of the cliff. With a growl and another shake of its head, it shot into the air. Its barely visible wings slid off it back—large, nearly clear wings—and looked and fluttered like a set of oversized wings from a dragonfly. Flying through the air and towards the mountain, it momentarily disappeared behind a craggily area out of eyesight. But hearing the patter of falling rocks, Malick could still hear the beast and could tell that it was well on its way. Within seconds, the beast was blasting up and over Malick in a steep arch.

  Landing on its feet with a slight bounce, it shook its head, sneaked, fluttered it wings, and growled. Finally calming itself, it lowered its head and snorted. Its matted hair shook and rattled down its back, making a different sound that sounding too much like a rattlesnake. Behind it, its tail was wispily swaying like a cat’s would. Down at the base of the mountain, the rest had their heads lowered in a similar fashion but hadn’t moved.

  “Good,” said Malick. “Quite big, seasoned, well fed.” The voice inside him was shaky and sounded nervous. Well… fed? “Yes, of course. I mean, you don’t see any more of my shadow whisperers around, now, do you?” You… It’s… They’re disgusting, grotesque.