Gemini welcomes the pain.
Above him, the dark entity witnesses the emphatic delivery of the mortal wound.
But all of this is Gemini’s masterful design.
From the beginning, Gemini engaged L’girra: dragging L’girra back into the world from his five years of self-imprisonment, developing L’girra’s abilities from a distance, orchestrating steps that led his brother to intercept the five missiles, and manipulating his emotions so that L’girra will kill him in this city - the city of L’girra’s own son - to lead L’girra closer to the vial.
Gemini’s fight with his brother needed to be believable; it needed to be a true, uncontrived struggle to the death. Because with the dark entity witnessing Gemini’s demise, this too is part of Gemini’s purpose.
Feeling the satisfaction of the conclusion of his toil, Gemini sees the entity and says in his thoughts, I needed to have you witness my death, but to keep you from intervening, to have you free me from under the centuries of your evil inescapable devices, and to have you allow our bargain to end.
The dark entity used Gemini as its enslaved champion. It long ago ensnared and took advantage of Gemini in his addiction to the power and the control Gemini sought over humans through manipulation and deception. The entity enticed humans with wealth and power, and then handed them to Gemini so that Gemini could feed his desires by building them up then systematically tearing them down.
Throughout millennia, this has been their bargain.
Leveraging it and Gemini’s uncontrollable cravings, the entity was able to entice and compel Gemini into evil deeds he otherwise was not willing to perform, similar to those he has done for Crystal, and as grand as those he has done for kings and emperors. Over the centuries, Gemini’s conscious was, bit by bit, sifted away, leaving only a withered and decayed shadow of a once faultless Nephilim.
From the inescapable desires and insatiable yearnings of his addiction - and from the entity itself and its seductions - Gemini sees death as his only release, as his only escape.
Death is the cure Gemini said he would have this night.
With its guile, the entity has also ensnared Sik in his desire for vengeance. After him, with equal cunning but by different means, it tried to ensnare L’girra in his surrender to apathy.
However, with deception more compelling than that of the deceiver, Gemini stages his own death.
He is a master of manipulation.
In his thoughts, Gemini affirms the reason for his intricate plans, I knew that my vile heart would not permit me to simply break the bargain. The only way my heart would allow it, is if the deed was done as a scheme, a scheme wrapped within something it profoundly craved: within a skillfully planned and flawlessly executed deception.
Gemini gazes up past the black clouds and into the heavens, searching for his Father, searching for forgiveness. He earnestly appeals within his thoughts, Father, accept me only when your will through me is complete. He waits for an answer. Then, with his senses fading and his strength waning, Gemini smiles a mysterious, momentary smile.
The two brothers crash down on the rooftop of the building.
Rolling and sliding, L’girra pulls Gemini in, ensuring his deadly clasp. He pushes the knife in further.
When they come to a stop, L’girra positions himself firmly above his brother.
Weakened and close to death, Gemini looks into his twin’s eyes and whispers softly, “Paige…she rests.”
As L’girra’s eyes burn through to Gemini’s soul, he hears the words but does not react. Singly focused on this brother, he does not allow himself to react.
With his final words, Gemini sees the enclosing darkness herald his crossing into freedom. It is freedom from the weight of thousands of years of life, and from the one trial he could never overcome. In his thoughts, he prepares his passing, I leave this life, I leave my brother, and a day will come when I will return. Will I remember him? Will he know it is I, and will he forgive me? I have strayed far from a pact my bother and I have long ago sworn, at the beginning of our game, when we used to act as one. And to correct it, I have caused my own death. But this death is not like the finality of a human death, for a day will come…a day will come when I soon return and hold to a course that is once again straight and just.
From the deep recesses of Gemini’s mind, a name comes forward. It is a name from thousands and thousands of years ago. It is the very first name he has ever called his brother and is the name given to his brother at his birthplace. The place is a distant, enigmatic realm, a place of wonder, and a place in magnificent turmoil. It is the very realm from which Crystal attempts to open a rift in space and time, in order to bring forth the Essence. As he finishes his words, Gemini’s thoughts call him that name, Brother of fierce dragon’s fire - brother Dragonblaze. On that day, together, we pursue the sixth explosion. On that day, we conclude our game of over a thousand years - our epic game.
Now no longer able to breathe and seeing only pure black emptiness, Gemini says to himself, This life…this shackled body…it is finished.
Then, all of Gemini’s senses fade to nothing. His life departs.
L’girra waits, keeping the knife solidly within his brother.
The rain falls hard in the dark night.
L’girra is motionless, with his muscles still tense.
Water gathers thick around them.
Finally, L’girra releases a sudden breath.
Easing his body, he lets go of the knife.
He slowly rises to his knees.
Weakened, he cautiously stands, as his long, black hair falls down over his face.
He watches for signs of life from Gemini. None is to be found.
L’girra staggers back.
In disbelief, he gasps, “I killed him.”
Chapter 24
Moments later, something small flutters a circuitous path through the air, landing on the Paris building’s rooftop. The bright green mantis raises its front two appendages to its head, and then lifts its black-dot eyes up at its subject. Afterwards, it flutters again and drops itself behind L’girra.
With the rain still pelting him, L’girra does not notice.
Suddenly, the mantis begins to dissolve into a swirl of green dust.
The dust shimmers and sparkles bright, appearing like a large, expanding light-green aura behind L’girra. Then, slowly, the light retracts and coalesces, forming into a figure of a man.
He is Pouvoir, the one who, years ago, helped L’girra in France, on the train going to Lourdes, the very one whom God sends to watch over L’girra.
Slowly, Pouvoir reaches out his hand and touches the back of L’girra’s shoulder.
Quickly, a brilliant, pure white light surrounds them.
Inside L’girra’s mind, his memory is repaired. The pathways that block his recollection of his family’s accident five years ago - the area in L’girra’s mind that he himself did not wish to venture - are opened. The synapses in L’girra’s memory spark to life. He begins to remember.
This day, they are on their way to the Ghetri Museum. His wife has planned the trip to see newly discovered Babylonian artifacts. Omar Malshar Gul and Malik Khel will present the exhibit, and the two men are intended to meet L’girra.
With his wife driving on the cool, wooded mountain road, he lies back in his reclined chair. As his thoughts come back from remembering the long-ago memory from Lourdes, he listens while the quiet and eerie Bauhaus song on the car’s stereo fades and ends with a final, ominous, foreboding word. Through the fog of his awakening senses, he strangely understands it to caution him from becoming, in some way, a thing about which it speaks: an undead.
Suddenly, something black and formless dashes in front of them.
Startled, his wife jerks the steering wheel.
Uncontrollably, the car skids to the left.
An instant later, the black smoke encloses them in complete darkness.
Unable to see, she jerks the wheel again.
L’girra is thrown through the car door, and his head crashes down on the ground. His shocked and dazed eyes try to look back to find his wife and son, but quickly, he passes out.
Many minutes later, from between the shrubs, L’girra opens his eyes. Slowly, he regains his senses, and in a heavy haze, he tries to figure out what has happened. He asks, “In front of us, what was it that covered us? What was it?”
Hunched over, he staggers to his feet.
“I saw something. I saw something! Black. Like smoke. I saw it! What was it? It was in the air.”
Becoming panicked, he quickly searches for his wife and son. “Where are they?”
He jerks his head around and sees his upside-down car. He runs to it and finds them.
Most of his wife’s body is buried under the car, and she is dead.
He falls to his knees beside her. “No!” he gasps, with his heart pounding uncontrollably.
He then peers into the car and sees his son. Beginning to pant rapidly, he reaches in and gingerly retrieves the boy and lays him down, on the ground next to the car. His son is also dead. During the crash, his little body ripped away from the seatbelt, as the car rolled and then tumbled, back over front. When the car struck the tree, his son flew into the windshield.
There is both pain and confusion within him. As he leans over his dead son, anger starts to build. He drives his fist into the metal of the car, and then screams into the sky, “NO!”
Then, with his lungs burning and his heart heaving, he steps back from the car and tries to concentrate. He hears the sound of creaking, groaning metal and shifting, broken glass, as his mind rolls the car over and turns it upright.
L’girra runs to his wife’s body. Kneeling down, he cautiously lifts her and rests her on his lap. As he lowers his head, he whimpers and pleads, “Oh, my God…I love you so much. Don’t go.”
He begins to weep woefully.
A long time passes.
Then, as he finally raises his head, he tries to understand what has happened, while attempting to remember the events of the accident. But it is difficult. Everything went by too quickly.
He mutters in confusion, “Just a black blur…like smoke. A black blur flashed in front of us…from the air. What was it?”
As the accident repeats over and over in his mind, his pain and hurt turns to smoldering anger. Gritting his teeth, he shouts, “What was it?!”
The dark entity has just wrought tragedy and insurmountable anguish in his life.
Laying his wife down, he stands and screams, “Where are you?! Who are you?!”
His voice thunders against the mountain and echoes down through the valley.
The smoldering anger within him waxes into pure hate.
Pressing his hands hard against his head, he feverishly concentrates upon the whole earth, trying to find the thing he saw.
He senses nothing. But he does not know what exactly to look for. Frustration builds stronger and stronger.
He turns back to see his dead wife and the broken body of his son.
Vengeance sears through his heart and seats itself aflame within it.
At that moment, a military transport truck lumbers near. It is one of two they earlier passed on the way up the mountain. The men in the truck see the accident, and the vehicle stops.
A handful of the soldiers jog down. As they reach L’girra, the first soldier asks urgently, “Are you alright, sir?”
A second and third soldier go further down to see his wife and son.
L’girra answers angrily, “No!” Seeing the other two soldiers, he snaps at them, “Don’t touch them!”
The second soldier stops.
L’girra sees the third soldier continue on. He yells at the man, “Don’t touch them!”
The second soldier explains, “Sorry sir, but we’ve got a medic here, and he can help.”
The third soldier, the medic, does not stop. Reaching L’girra’s wife, he bends down.
The fiery anger in L’girra’s heart burns deadly hot and eats into his brain.
L’girra snarls with the viciousness of a rabid dog, “I said don’t touch them!”
As his words scream out, he generates a massive pulse of sound and energy, like a tremendous exploding bomb. In an instant, a circle of destruction projects from L’girra and expands out to the mountainside and down into the valley.
Trees are leveled instantly to the ground. The soldiers are catapulted into the air, crashing into rocks and driven into the earth. Thrown across the air, the military truck, with men inside, slams into the mountain, flattened to almost nothing. The mountain itself heaves and quakes, as the powerful pulse pounds into its side.
After the sudden destruction, a long moment of emptiness passes.
Afterwards, an eerie silence encloses everything.
L’girra is the sole one standing, and his anger is not satiated.
Minutes later, the second military transport truck arrives and stops. A man opens the front passenger’s door. On the chest of his fatigues, his name reads, “Kessian.” He is Samuel Ian Kessian’s father.
Kessian commands some of his men to go to the wrecked first truck. Then, he walks and surveys the flattened trees and the cracked asphalt road. Down the slope, he sees L’girra on his knees, with his wife and son in his arms. Kessian takes three other men to go down with him.
Reaching L’girra, the men see him with his head bent down, rocking back and forth, while his arms pull in his wife and son, and tightly squeeze them into his sides. The unnatural angles and positions of the limbs, neck, and head of L’girra’s wife and boy tell them that the two are dead. But still, L’girra feverishly tugs them in.
Kessian says softly, “Sir, we’re here to help.”
For a short moment, L’girra does not appear to have heard him. But then, slowly, he stops rocking. Ominously, he raises his head.
His thick sweat-pasty hair streaks straight lines down his face.
With vacant eyes, he stares at them, with the grotesque visage of an undead.
The men step back, shocked by the look of the man in front of them.
After an eerie silence, L’girra gradually tilts his head to one side. His face changes as he begins to maniacally smile, and he peers up at them with demented, red, blood-shot eyes.
L’girra has lost complete control.
In the next gruesome moments, one by one, the agonizing cries of brutally tortured men echo over the mountain and woefully carry down into the valley.
What he does to their bodies is unspeakable.
A short time later, L’girra stands alone.
Motionless, he stares down at his blood-drenched hands and clothes.
With a flash of green light, Pouvoir appears in front of him.
His blood rage now ended, L’girra’s conscience awakens as if something else within him has just receded back into the depths of his soul, relinquishing control. But he knows and remembers every moment of anger and every instant of agonizing pain he wrought on the innocent men.
Was that me? his thoughts ask, panicked. Did I just do this? I was so angry. But I couldn’t have let this happen. Was it me?!
Smelling the blood that covers him, he whispers in fear, “But I enjoyed it. I reveled in it.” His chest tightens to almost collapse his lungs as he begins to feel the guilt overwhelm him. Confused and distraught, he pleads, “My God…who am I?”
L’girra raises his head. Seeing Pouvoir, he looks at him with pitiful questioning eyes, and his hands start to quiver.
Pouvoir gazes on him with eyes of sympathy, yet remorseful for what he is about to do. In a low, calm, yet sorrowful voice, he says, “My friend, your actions have grieved and broken the heart of your Father, our God.”
Pouvoir reaches out his hand to the side of L’girra head, and his finger touches L’
girra’s temple.
A powerful bright white light encloses them.
In an instant, L’girra’s abilities are taken away. The completed symbol on his left wrist - God’s own name for him - diffuses into his flesh and bone, and then softly vanishes.
Abruptly, the memory stops.
On the rooftop, Pouvoir removes his hand from L’girra’s rain-drenched shoulder. With another flash of green light, Pouvoir takes his leave and disappears.
Regaining his senses, L’girra reels back. His face shows disbelief, anguish, and horror.
But he knows this is the truth.
Staggering, he falls to his knees.
He tries to speak, but no words can escape. Then, finally, with a painfully aching heart, he gasps, “I killed him…I killed Samuel’s father.”
His tortured face falls down into the cover of his hands.
The realization explains why he so vehemently did not want to remember this horrific past.
Sorrowfully, he cries, “My God, I killed them all.”
* * * * * * *
Crystal stands from her frenzied feeding. The body at her feet is dry, empty, and wrinkled, from its face to its limbs. She retracts the more slender tentacles back into her tongue, and then licks her lips clean.
Ready to test her increased strength from the new Nephilim blood within her, she extends one hand, in the direction of the hallway.
Soon, a small point of darkness manifests in front of her. Then, its edges begin to expand. Larger, the darkness grows, until it becomes the size of her hand. Light from the hallway starts to spiral around it, and then sink into its black void.
Crystal concentrates with greater intensity.
The air around her starts to move and tussle about, as strands of her dark, long hair lift and wave in front of her face.
The spatial tear into the distant enigmatic realm increases in size. Its outline is electric and alive, with light sparking in random directions.
Feeling even more powerful, Crystal opens it further.
With a loud sound of whooshing wind, the rift instantly expands to almost the size of Crystal’s body, much larger than she has previously been able.
Crystal’s eyes widen with excitement. She feels strong. She feels she can sustain it.
RB 01 Through Flesh & Bone Page 71