Genesis

by Kipjo Ewers

  Her composure and expression switched to one of confusion.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means I love you Rose, but my patience is running thin. Death is an occupational hazard of being on this team, there is no avoiding it, and I have no intention of quitting. If I can stand here, and deal with the fact that there is a possibility I could end up permanently on a slab again, you need to come to turns with it too. Or at least show me more of this side instead of the person I feel like I want to be as far away from as possible. If not …I don’t think we can continue this.”

  Her eyes became glassy as tears began to trickle down them. The weight of her tears caused her head to lower a bit.

  “I don’t want that …”

  His head dropped as a painful sigh came out of him.

  “I don’t want that either …”

  “I wanna try, I don’t want to be like this …it’s just getting harder and harder to turn it off when we come back.”

  Oliver took a step forward toward her, but Rosann held a hand up stopping him.

  “I don’t need you to come over here, and comfort me.”

  A turned off Oliver fell back against the wall folding his arms. She quickly raised her head so he could see her.

  “I need you to come over here,” Rosann whispered. “And make me scream.”

  ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜

  Coahuila, Mexico, sometime after midnight,

  Miguel Ángel Castillo, an alleged former lieutenant under El Chapo, now head of his own cartel sat disheveled and battered with a swollen right eye on the opposite side of his desk within his mini-mansion. With his healthy left eye, he timidly looked at the inhuman damage done to his office, and the dead bodies of his men that littered the floor.

  He clutched his broken right arm whimpering as his working eye finally returned to the man sitting in his chair, on his side of the desk looking back at him.

  He knew it was a man based on his build, but that was where the identification ended. The man sat adorned in a jet black hooded jumpsuit made from some unknown material with a dull shine. The hood covered the top of his head, while a red and black shiny metallic kabuki mask covered his visage. Two of his henchmen flanked Miguel’s left and right wore similar outfits to his, except their masks were pure jet black. His third, a woman wearing similar attire stood off to the side holding up a little camcorder recording the ominous event taking place as their boss clasped his gloved hands while sadly shaking his head at Castillo.

  “Ángel … Ángel,” the man spoke with a synthesized distorted voice in Spanish, “I gave you and everyone who agreed to purchase Rebirth from me, two distinct and unbreakable rules that were non-negotiable. Number one, do not get caught using Rebirth. I gave you and your men clear instructions and a schedule when to boost up, and as long as you followed it to the letter, you would have had the most powerful cartel in all of Mexico.

  The second rule, which was even more critical than the first, is that Rebirth is not resalable under any circumstances. The sole purpose of selling Rebirth to organizations like yourself was to put you back on equal footing with all of the do-good heroes, and super-powered government units out there. You like everyone else agreed to these terms. We shook on it.”

  The masked man extended his right hand out.

  “This hand, you shook this hand and agreed to my terms and rules. And then, you went behind my back and blatantly broke my rule selling it to the one organization I would never in a million years sell Rebirth to, religious fanatics. Do you want to know why I don’t sell to groups like ISIS Ángel? Do you?”

  “I …I …I didn’t,” a terrified Ángel attempted to get out pleading his case.

  “Because survey says, they don’t follow the rules aside from their own, they’re irrational, and they could potentially lead a paper trail back to me,” the man continued. “Which is what I don’t want, I am a man of privacy, and I cannot maintain my privacy if my product is in the hands of terrorists. And now because of you, my product is now in the hands of the United States Government.”

  “I swear man, it wasn’t me!” Ángel screamed. “I swear!”

  “Stop it, Angel, you’re embarrassing yourself,” He waved him off. “I have surveillance on all of my customers twenty-four hours a day. I know all of your conversations, even from the burner phones that you used. Oh, by the way, that nice ten million you made off of my product that was sitting in your offshore account, which is a fucking insult, is now mine. I could have made them pay ten times that amount if I chose to do business with them. I also emptied out your other accounts as compensation for placing me in this most uncomfortable predicament.”

  “Take it, take it all,” He begged. “Just please, don’t kill me.”

  “My initial plan was to let you complete the transaction, kill every last one of your customers that you sold to cleaning up the mess you made for me, and then come back here dropping their heads at your feet before I killed you. Unfortunately, due to miscalculations, the United States Super Soldier Unit known as the Regulators raided the compound one hour before we were going to strike and now has my product, further complicating my life.”

  He leaned forward wagging a finger at Castillo.

  “All because you took one look at me and figured that I was a sweet tight wet pussy you could fuck.”

  “No man …no.”

  “I’m going to tell you one last time Ángel, stop embarrassing yourself,” he furiously pointed. “You looked at me in my outfit and my shiny mask and said ‘This idiot looks like he came straight out of a comic book, he ain’t going to do shit to me. I’m going to do what I want to do because I’m Miguel Ángel Castillo, the Angel of Death, I ran with El Chapo, I’m a boss! No one can tell me shit what to do.’ That is what you thought; you grossly underestimated my power, which is why all of your men and your family are dead, your empire obliterated, and I am now sitting in your chair.”

  The masked man extended his right-hand gesturing as if he was gripping something. At the same time, Angel clutched his throat with his working arm gurgling from some unknown force choking the life out of him. As the masked man rose from his seat lifting his arm higher, Castillo with a face that turned beet red was lifted out the chair he sat in and suspended three feet off the ground. His legs flailed violently from being strangled in mid-air.

  “I actually abhor violence,” he exhaled under his mask, “I do my best to explore all other avenues and channels to avoid it. But at the end of the day examples must be made when laws are broken, and rules violated. Do you have any idea what this world would be like without public order, the chaos and insanity that would ensue? You had rules and consequences for breaking the rules within your own organization Ángel. You knew better. Now as you can probably tell, I’m a huge Star Wars fan. Guess who my favorite character is. Come on, guess. Give you a hint, he used to be a Jedi.”

  “Please man …please…,” Castillo spat out as his face became purple.

  “One of my favorite force moves, which you only read about in the novels and see in the video games is called the force crush. As you’re about to find out, it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

  The hi-tech kabuki masked man in black, used both his hands gesturing as if he was about to squash a soda can. A still suspended Castillo no longer being asphyxiated, now felt as if he was within the crushing force of a trash compactor.

  “Now just to let you know, the last time I tried this move I got a guy down to the size of a medicine ball. With you, I’d like to shoot for a soccer ball. What do you say, Angel?”

  “No man! No! No!”

  Castillo screamed as the two henchmen backed up so as not to get blood splatter on them, while the female with the camcorder moved closer to adjusting the view zooming in on the soon to be a gruesome scene.

  That night, Miguel Ángel Castillo’s screams were more horrifying and bloodcurdling than the rest of the
dead throughout the compound mixed in with the crunching of bones.

  When it all came to an end, the man in black walked out the front door of Miguel Ángel Castillo’s mini-mansion taking in a good stretch, followed by the rest of his crew. Their boss spun on his heel turning to them to give them instruction.

  “Turn all of the bodies to ash, and then burn this place to the ground to cover your tracks.”

  His men nodded as he turned to the woman.

  “Finish the video with the burning of the mansion. Make copies and have them couriered to all of our clients. Be sure to add some dramatic horror background music of some kind, liven it up.”

  The woman nodded as he turned his back to them and propelled himself into the air using the unknown power he wielded.

  CHAPTER 4

  September 2016, Sunday 8:45 PM, Sanctuary Island time,

  Sophia walked around her kitchen preparing breakfast. It became her regular routine due to her daughter still attending regular school in Washington, DC.

  “Kimberly, breakfast is ready!” She called out, “You’re going to be late!”

  “Coming!” Her daughter yelled back from her room upstairs.

  She shook her head as she peeled a banana and handed it to Sir George, the family spider monkey who stretched out its hands taking it from her. She gave him a light pat on his head as he glanced up at her while chomping away on his breakfast. She glanced at the digital clock on the wall and prepared to yell out another forceful command when she heard feet coming down the steps.

  “You keep cutting it close, young lady.”

  “Mom, it takes me less than fifteen minutes tops to get to school from here,” Kimberly answered back with fluttered eyes.

  “That’s only when you go orbital, which ends up ruining the lunch that I make for you.”

  “I don’t know why you keep making lunch for me when I can just buy the cafeteria food.” Kimberly shrugged while sitting down at the table.

  “Because you don’t eat lunch unless I make it for you,” Sophia answered back with narrowed eyes.

  She took her seat at the head of the table next to her daughter and waited as Kimberly sighed forking some pancakes and turkey sausage onto her plate. She then took her spoon scooping up some scrambled eggs.

  “I really don’t need to eat food, or drink water, so I don’t know what the big deal is.”

  “For the umpteenth time, yes you do,” Sophia pressed with a soft, steely voice, “You cannot function on just your bioenergy alone. If that were the case, your digestive system would shut down altogether. Let’s not have this conversation again …eat …please.”

  Kimberly huffed as she scooped up some sliced banana and strawberries from a bowel putting it on her plate, and then grabbed the bottle of maple syrup drizzling it on top of the pancakes. Grabbing her knife, she set up a slice of pancake and some fruit putting it in her mouth. A gentle smile grew on her mother’s face as the opinionated headstrong child began to dig into the food.

  Sophia’s eyes slowly examined her from head to toe starting with her neatly braided hair tied back with a red scrunchy to the blue and black matching skintight long sleeve Nike workout shirt and tights she wore. Kimberly feeling the extra intensity of her mother’s eyes on her slowly looked up in the middle of chomping her food.

  “What?”

  “You actually have school clothes in your book bag, right? Because you are not wearing that all day.”

  “Yes mom, they’re in my bag.”

  Kimberly rolled her eyes as she continued to eat. In the middle of chewing on a piece of sausage, she muttered something she thought her mother wouldn’t hear.

  “If I had my flight suit ...”

  “You know why you don’t have it anymore.”

  Sophia folded her arms waiting for her to say something smart. Kimberly decided not to tempt fate and kept her head down while finishing the fruit on her plate. Her mother softened her demeanor as she prepared to ask her a susceptible question.

  “So … do you want to talk about it?”

  “Talk about what mom?”

  “Saturday night.”

  “What’s there to talk about? I had a bad dream,” Kimberly shrugged as she continued to eat. “It was a slip.”

  “You know it’s okay, right?” Sophia gingerly urged.

  “I know mom,” Kimberly said fluttering her eyes again with an added voice of irritation. “It was just a dream … the Draugr is not coming back ever. I sent him into space myself remember?”

  “Don’t do that,” Sophia sternly warned her. “Do not bring some tough, cocky persona to me, because I am going to see right through it. And do not shut me out either. Now if it was just a slip, we will leave it as a slip. But if it was something else …”

  “Mom …it was just a slip.”

  She looked into her daughter’s eye which pleaded for her to drop it. With a nod, she let it go.

  “I’m full; can I go to school now?”

  “Yes,” Sophia nodded. “Don’t forget to take your lunch, do not go orbital, and remember to text me when you get there.”

  “Yes, mom.”

  Kimberly got up from her seat and walked over to the table grabbing the paper bag with her lunch placing it in her book bag. She closed up the bag, secured it onto her shoulders and proceeded to head for the door.

  “I don’t get a kiss now?” Sophia asked with folded arms.

  With another huff, her daughter spun on her heel, running back and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She then gave Sir George a quick kiss on his head before darting out the house through the main door. Sophia was already on her feet moving to the large central pane window to watch her child leap off the porch landing on the sand. She trotted a couple of steps before exploding into the air taking flight. The crackling of a thunderous sonic boom erupted across the sky as she went hypersonic heading to her school in Washington, DC.

  As sad sigh came from Sophia’s lips, she only had seven sweet months of escorting her to school.

  ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜

  After the battle with Peace and the Zombie Nation, Kimberly officially became the second powerful EVO on the planet, though nowhere near on the planetary strength range that her mother possessed, her power was comfortably in the upper echelon continental level indicated from Lady Tech’s tests. In time as she continued to age it would quickly reach and possibly surpass Sophia’s along with her other abilities.

  Having a child fueled with bioenergy came with a new set of challenges.

  Much like her mother, Kimberly did not need to sleep or even eat to sustain herself anymore. Sophia had to nonetheless forcefully reinforce both a diet and strict sleeping pattern for her, which caused some conflicts.

  Kimberly would forget to eat for almost an entire day not understanding the need for organic sustenance if she was self-sustaining. It was quickly remedied by a stern tone and the second she got a whiff of her mother’s cooking. Keeping her on a sleeping schedule proved to be more difficult. Sophia explained to her in detail that sleep was still essential for them to stay mentally sound. Even though physically it would no longer harm her, lack of sleep would cause the days and nights to blur together. She would soon lose track of time itself and reality which happened to Sophia the first couple of months after her return.

  Kimberly put up a much stronger fight when it came to sleep due to her night terrors which began to manifest days after the battle with the Draugr. Based on Erica’s analysis which Sophia bitterly agreed with, Kimberly’s eidetic memory was causing her nightmares while she slept. The dreams usually involved her either alone or surrounded by a sea of dead bodies. Eventually, the Draugr would come for her, and no matter how hard she fought, he would overpower her, drag her away, and do unspeakable things that haunted Sophia just from hearing them.

  Sophia and Erica began to teach her mental techniques to help her suppress the stressful memories during sleep which woul
d trigger the night terrors. The focal point of the training sessions was to focus and stay in a positive place to suppress the memory.

  In time Kimberly was able to control her memories and dreams, stopping the nightmares. However, there were still times when slips would occur, most notably when she was in a bad mood.

  These slips forced Sophia to reconstruct and reinforce both Kimberly’s bed and bedroom which at times took the full brunt of her waking up in terrified screaming fits.

  This produced another challenge as Kimberly began to develop an obsession with surpassing her limits and getting stronger. Like her mother, she started watching every video she could find on hand to hand combat both on a human and superhuman level.

  If she could physically duplicate it, she watched it. Regular human hand to hand was bad enough due to the shockwaves Kimberly caused when using her super speed. Her attempt to duplicate superhuman abilities proved to be problematic on a dangerous level.

  Sophia’s mind wandered back to one of the more recent incidents that put a strain on their still new and fresh relationship.

  Like her mother, Kimberly was capable of producing energy attacks with the bioenergy stored within her. Sophia knowing the negative aspect of forbidding her to use this ability begrudgingly helped her hone it with the agreement that she only used it in her presence. Kimberly kept her promise for the most part, but like all children her age explored other boundaries to cross.

  One Saturday afternoon while sitting in her office attempting to get some personal work done, she felt all the hairs on her body stand on end. It was followed by the tensing of her muscles and a ball of knots forming in her stomach. She got up from her seat to peer out of the window of her office and witness a surging white light growing brighter on the other side of the beach.

  “Oh no …”