In Silent Graves

by Gary A Braunbeck

  “‘“The Grigori were most displeased with this answer and so, envious that they had not been made privy to this most secret-within-secret Knowledge, they stole the book from Adam and cast it into the sea. Vowing to further avenge this insult, they bestowed upon the human race as much of the Forbidden Knowledge as they themselves knew: the casting and resolving of enchantments, the knowledge of the clouds, the science of the constellations, how to make knives and swords and devise ornaments, tinctures for the beautifying of women, the course of the moon, the signs of the sun, how to fashion the weapons of war. The Angel Penemue instructed mankind in the art of writing and composing music while others busied themselves with teaching children the bitter and the sweet and, as a result, cursing many of them with a childhood lost to Bad Wisdom.

  “‘“When the time came to return to Heaven and answer for their actions, many of the Grigori refused to leave the Earth; the gift of Forbidden Knowledge had made the human race much more attractive to them, and many had taken human women as lovers. Raziel, his heart broken by their words and deeds, returned to Heaven with those few Grigori who were willing to accept punishment for what they had done.

  “‘“God looked upon these Fallen Angels who stood before Him and—after conferring with the Four Angels of Judgment—decreed that they should be banished to the north side of the Third Heaven—the place called Hell—for a thousand years, where they might contemplate their sins in darkness and loneliness; once their penance was paid, they would be welcomed back into His kingdom with open arms and much rejoicing. This was a small price to pay, and the Returning Grigori gladly accepted their punishment.

  “‘“Those Fallen Angels who chose to remain behind kept most of their angelic powers but were stripped of their immortality, and the children born of their couplings with human women were monsters, hideous, filthy and deformed giants—the Rephaim.

  “‘“Looking upon the unspeakable foulness of their offspring, the Fallen Angels realized the depth of their wrong-doing and begged for admission back into Heaven. God refused them. Disgraced and filled with regret, the Grigori decided to imprison the Rephaim in the deepest bowels of the Earth and cast a spell of Eternal Sleep so that these creatures might never succumb to the temptation to intermingle their seeds with those of the human race. The Rephaim, though horrible in countenance, were merely children at heart, and wept with fear and confusion when told of the fate that awaited them. So sad was their keening, so anguished and lonely and helpless, that God was moved to mercy and—unknown to the Fallen Angels—allowed these children to multiply so that their offspring might carry through the ages the tale of how the Grigori fell.

  “‘“God sent one thousand human women into the depths of the Earth to mate with the Rephaim. Out of necessity, for no human could look upon the Rephaim without going mad with fear and revulsion, these women were blind.

  “‘“The children born of this second coupling were also giants, though less terrifying in appearance. The Greeks called them Cyclops, the Iroquois named them Ga-oh, in India they whisper of the Maruts, the Aztecs told the tale of Catcitepulz, the Japanese wrote of Emma-hoo and the underground world of Jigoku...all of these myths and more sprang from the Second Fallen Births.

  “‘“Most of these children died along with their mothers during birth, but three survived, and the True Angelic Essence was strong within them. To these three was given the sacred task of recounting for the rest of time how the angels fell. Their hearts were good and pure, as was their magic, but they also possessed the gifts of conscience and immortality.

  “‘“They journeyed to the surface if the Earth and there, with tears in their eyes, said farewell to one another and parted.

  “‘“These Three have been called by many names, but the ones which come closest to those given them by God can be found in the Popul Vuh of Quiché Maya: the Sorcerer of Fatal Laughter; the Sorcerer of Night, Unkempt; and the Black Sorcerer. Down through the ages, though they grew weary and lonely and heartsick, they performed their duties well and without complaint. The Rephaim passed away, as did the earthbound Grigori who spawned them, and soon only These Three remained, giants walking the Earth, neither fully human nor wholly angelic, the two essences in constant conflict, their home nowhere.

  “‘“Then came a day when God looked down and knew the time had come for them to rest. ‘My good and loyal servants,’ He said to them. ‘I see that you grow tired, and that your hearts ache from the loneliness inflicted on you by your task. The time has come for you to sleep. Such dreams I have prepared for you as part of your reward for serving me so very well! But before you lay down your weary heads, to prove my gratitude, I will grant you one request.’

  “‘“‘We have, in our journeys, seen much pain and suffering and despair,’ they replied. ‘Though we are so very weary, our task is not yet complete. We wish to comfort and to heal this race for whom the Forbidden Knowledge is more burden than blessing.’

  “‘“‘This cannot be,’ said God, ‘for what is Known can never be made Unknown. The suffering you see is the price of their Knowing.’

  “‘“‘Then we wish to leave behind descendants of our own,’ they replied, ‘so that they might remember us and our task to the world of men. Perhaps, in remembering, they might find an answer to the Mystery of Suffering where we could not.’

  “‘”’So it is granted,’ God said, deeply moved by their concern for the world of men. He sent down from Heaven the angel Shekinah, sometimes known as Matrona, the Female manifestation of God, who sits enthroned above a cherub under the Tree of Life, and whose splendor is 65,000 times greater than that of the sun.

  “‘“Shekinah coupled with These Three, and from this Final Birthing emerged the Hallowers, a race of beings equal parts angel and human, the two essences in complete harmony, who possessed all worldly and celestial wisdom, and who were able to move freely between the Earth of men and the Kingdom of God: chronos and kairos.

  “‘“The Hallowers were given full responsibility for the world of men. Some called them ghosts, some called them spirits, others named them demiourgos. Most of mankind called them, simply, guardian angels. ‘Over every blade of grass and sleeping child stands and angel whispering, ‘Grow.’”

  “‘“Promise me, my love, that you will pass this story on to our child.”’

  “Joanna took Rael’s hand and placed it on her body. ‘Do you feel it, my sweet Rael? I carry in my womb a child!’

  “Rael felt her swollen belly, sensed the life growing within, and asked, ‘How long have I been ill? How long have I been gripped by this fever?’

  “‘You returned to us nine evenings ago,’ replied Joanna.

  “Rael knew this was impossible, for he could feel the child move inside of Joanna. Nine days?

  “‘How long ago did you...lay with your husband?’

  “‘A fortnight.’

  “Rael shook his head in disbelief. ‘That cannot be! You feel as if you’re at least five months along!’

  “‘Siempre is a man of many mysteries, dear Rael. Our love is a miracle, so why do you find it so hard to believe that our child could be even more miraculous?’

  “‘Because it goes against Nature.’

  “‘Then you and I have nothing more to talk about,’ snapped Joanna, rising from her chair and leaving Rael alone by the fire.”

  Rael paused in his narrative, examined the sea of faces beneath him, then smiled and said, “Do you want to know the rest?”

  The children as one shouted yes, yes, yes, please.

  “Then close your eyes,” said Rael, lifting his arms high, then bringing them slowly down. “That’s it, shhh, there you go, close your eyes and be very quiet...quiet...there you go....”

  Within moments every child in the chamber was asleep. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, Rael climbed down and rejoined Robert, Ian, and Andrea.

  Robert said, “What’s happening to—”

  Rael held a finger to his lips and shook his head, then
made a gesture to Ian, who helped Robert to his feet and led him father down the chamber’s path. Rael and Andrea each grabbed a torch and followed.

  When they were far enough away that the echo of their voices would not disturb the children, Robert asked, “What’s going on?”

  “Right now, each of them is dreaming their own ending to the story,” said Rael. “It’s the way it has to be until Persephone—excuse me, Denise—is back with us. The actual ending of the story hasn’t happened yet, but what does remain of it is a bit too grim for them. They’ll take it a lot better if she’s the one who tells them.” He looked at Robert’s slightly unsteady walk. “You okay to go on? I could have Ian carry you, or we could grab one of the extra wheelchairs.”

  “I think I’m okay to walk if...could we not go so fast, please?” His head was still throbbing and all the painkillers had managed to do was make him woozy.

  “You’re the guest.”

  They slowed. Andrea moved forward a little and took Robert’s hand.

  “Think you’ve made a conquest, Willy.”

  Robert looked at Andrea and smiled. She blushed in response.

  “Okay,” said Rael. “You need to hear the rest of this.”

  Robert noticed that the path they were walking had begun to slope downward. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see soon enough. Got your flashlight, Ian?”

  “Uh-huh!”

  “Good. Don’t turn it on until I tell you, okay?”

  “‘Kay.”

  “How’s your throwing arm today?”

  Ian laughed. “No-hitter! Ian frow no-hitter!” His voice was raw and scratchy; Robert could almost see the tortured throat muscles shredding as Ian spoke.

  Rael squeezed Ian’s shoulder affectionately. “Cool beans.” He moved next to Robert and Andrea. “Ian’s my unofficial second-in-command down here. He not only does most of the cooking but also makes and mends our clothing. Boy’s a wonder with a needle and thread, aren’t you, Ian?”

  “Ian sew real good!”

  Rael smiled. “Okay, Willy, think you can handle the rest of this?”

  “Like I have a choice.”

  Rael nodded. “True. I was just trying to be a considerate host. Oh, well...here goes.

  “It didn’t take long before everyone on the mountain knew of Joanna’s pregnancy—and man, let me tell you, talk about fickle public opinion! Those folks who’d been Lillian’s defenders began to have their doubts about the nature of her power, what with her daughter claiming to have played ‘Hide the Salami’ with some creature out of myth, and those who had all along claimed that Lillian was in league with Lucifer...more and more folks started paying closer attention to what they had to say. Not a fun time around the Bathelt house, trust me.

  “The odd thing was, at no time during all of this did Hans ever once think I was the one who’d gotten Joanna pregnant—or if he did, he never said anything about it. Either way, it only served to reinforce for me what a decent man he was. Hell, if I’d’ve been in his place, the first person I would’ve accused would have been my live-in handyman. No, Hans was convinced that his daughter had been raped by some madman-hermit who lived higher up the mountain. He even managed to organize a search party with what few friends he had—me included—but we never found anything. I knew we wouldn’t. Hans got real quiet after that, started living more and more inside himself. He also took to drinking this rotgut moonshine some guy who lived down the road brewed in a still behind an outhouse. The more Hans drank, the quieter he got. Wouldn’t even talk to me.

  “I knew he was going to blow eventually and couldn’t figure out how to stop it.

  “Anyway, as Joanna’s pregnancy progressed, it became evident that something was terribly wrong with the child she was carrying. For one thing, she carried it to term in less than a month—no premature birth, no miscarriage, but full term. Add to this all the weird shit that started happening all over the mountain, and you can understand why the Bathelts started getting threats. There was a farmer whose prize cow gave birth to a two-headed calf; this leprous moss started growing everywhere; crows started flying through windows; children dreamed of the dead rising from their graves; clouds in the sky assumed the shapes of great beasts; flowers started growing on unmarked graves in the middle of that winter—you couldn’t spit and not hit something that wasn’t thought to be a portent of doom.

  “Joanna went into labor on the coldest night of the winter, and it was an agonizing birth. Lilly had to do everything herself because none of the women on the mountain would come to help—but the Preacher was there, I gotta give the old fart credit for that. He did what he could—which mostly was to keep Hans occupied so he wouldn’t interfere with the birth. So the preacher sat out there with me and Hans and watched the man pour that rotgut down his throat. There was no other way to keep Hans quiet and in one place.

  “A little after two a.m. Joanna screamed. It was an awful, ragged, horrified sound that I hope I never hear twice. All of us jumped up and ran into the bedroom. Lillian was sitting in the rocking chair holding this bloodied towel and cooing to it. I don’t think she realized how much she was sobbing.

  Joanna was curled up on the bed, covering her eyes with her hands, muttering to herself and...laughing…very, very quietly.

  “The Preacher and Hans just stood there—I think both of them knew that something was wrong with the baby, but neither one of them wanted to see what. I started toward Lilly and saw something on the edge of the bed. It was the caul she’d removed from the baby’s face. Understand, a caul is supposed to be a good sign, right? It means that the child has special powers and will grow up to do wondrous things. None of this made sense to me.

  “So there I am, finally, standing over Lillian and the baby. I cleared my throat and whispered her name, but Lilly didn’t even know I was in the room. So after a minute or so I reached down and pulled aside the towel and saw Joanna’s baby.

  “I’ve seen a lot of awful things in my life, Willy—plagues, wars, famines, attempted genocides, you name it—but I have never seen a child that horribly deformed. It had two arms, two legs, a torso and head, nose, lips, eyes...but everything was wrong, you know? One eye was a lot higher than the other, it had a huge facial cleft, its skin was gray and looked like it had scales, its hands...no. You don’t want the details, just take my word for it. It was not something that could ever pass for human. But at least it was dead, I could tell that much.

  “I had to turn away, and that was one of the worst mistakes of my life because both Hans and the Preacher knew then that the child was a monstrosity. The preacher was the first to come over, and the man damn near passed out. He managed to compose himself, though, and made the Sign of the Cross over the baby and began to whisper prayer after prayer...then Hans came over and elbowed us out of the way.

  “He looked at the baby, shuddered, then covered his mouth with his hand and sobbed. Just once. There was enough misery in that one sob for a dozen men, and I wanted to touch him, to put an arm around him and say how sorry I was—the man was my friend, after all—but everything about him warned me to stay the fuck away. He shuddered a little more, closed his eyes, then pulled his hand from his mouth and stood up straight. You could have heard air molecules collide in that room, it was so quiet.

  “I expected him to explode, to scream and lash out and destroy anyone or anything he could get his hands on, but he didn’t; he simply reached down and took the baby from Lilly’s arms, covered it with the towel, and laid it on the edge of the bed. He leaned over and kissed Joanna’s cheek, then touched Lilly’s face, then walked out of the bedroom. The Preacher and I looked at one another—I think each of us was hoping the other one would know what to do.

  “Joanna was very still on the bed. I had to listen hard in order to make sure she was breathing—she was. But Lilly...Lilly was rocking back and forth and cooing and weeping and stroking the empty space between her arms where she’d been holding the baby. ‘Poor little thing,’
she said, over and over, all the while touching empty air like she was still holding the thing.

  “Hans came back into the bedroom. He was carrying his shotgun—an ugly piece of work, I think it’s called an over-and-under: two barrels, a twelve-gauge and a twenty-gauge, one on top of the other.

  He tossed this empty wool sack onto the floor and looked at me. ‘Put it inside,’ was all he said. I took one look at his eyes and..., the Hans I’d known was gone, so I did what he said. He told me to put on my coat and follow him. As we were about to go out the door he turned toward the Preacher and said, ‘Take care of them, see that they want for nothing.’ Then we left.

  “We walked through the snow and wind until we came to the edge of a ravine. Hans stuck the business end of the gun in my back and told me to remove the child’s body and lay it on this tree stump nearby, then he pointed the gun right at my head and said, ‘The Bible says that the children of the Serpent must be dealt with as you would deal with the Serpent Himself—“Let no limb rest near the other, lest the Serpent rise again.’” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out, then tossed it down at my feet.

  “It was a hatchet.

  “I shook my head and started to say something. Hans emptied both barrels into a tree trunk five feet to my left and damn near brought the whole thing down on my head, then loaded fresh rounds and held the gun on me. ‘“Let no limb rest near the other,”’ he said again. I gotta tell you, Willy, if the world would have ended right at that moment, I think I would’ve cheered.

  “I bent over and picked up the hatchet. I planted my feet solidly in the snow so I could keep my balance. I looked at Hans and he nodded. I had no choice, you know? The thing was dead, anyway, right?