Children of Semyaza

by Kevin C Noel

  “He’s trying to escape!” yelled Vincent. “Stop him.”

  But Vincent was mistaken. Garrick wasn’t trying to escape from anyone. He hadn’t used enough skydust to make escape possible. He just needed something to make his victory here swifter and more…permanent.

  As a small blue flame from the Skydust had lit before him, Garrick thought hard about the item he wished to retrieve as he placed both his hands in the fire. The sensation was an odd one as he felt the cold steel in his hands and retrieved the Blood Cravers. The Incardians were perplexed for a moment and wondered why he bothered to retrieve simple short swords, but Vincent recognized them as he stared in wide-eyed fear.

  “Those are Shimshonite weapons!” he yelled, “Don’t let him cut…” but he was too late. Garrick was never faster than he was whenever he wielded the Cravers. In a flashing moment, all six Incardians were writhing in pain and turned into balls of fire. The sizzling of their bodies was an unnerving sound for him, but his eyes remained fixed on his final target.

  “I warned you,” he said. “I am not the same.”

  “Maybe we can come to an agreement?” Vincent said, as he backed away.

  Garrick grinned and shook his head with the same malevolent anticipatory glee on his face to match the one Vincent had greeted him with earlier.

  “I don’t think so, bitch,” he said.

  29

  The gymnasium had been spruced up while members of the Reading elite chatted about mostly unimportant and trivial things. They were joined by other well-wishers from out of town and, inevitably, fans of Celina Hagen. Over the years, she had become better at faking an interest in such events. She had also learned to drown out the noise—by noise she mostly referred to the boring men who did everything they could to impress her, which was a herculean task no one had ever accomplished. Her head spun from a hangover so she should not have been drinking anything that night. But what better way was there to drown out the uninteresting hoard around her?

  “Celina,” called out Lester as he walked up to her with an older man by his side. She couldn’t help smiling at the absurd moustache her old beau insisted on keeping over his lip. She wasn’t sure Reading was ready for a congressman who looked like a wealthy porn star. “The Mayor here has just been telling me he’s one of your biggest fans and insisted I make an introduction.”

  Celina pulled off her most charming smile as she shook his hand and pretended to care about his favorite of her films. She also pretended to be very excited to be supporting her old friend as congressman. She couldn’t remember the last time she had any sort of honest reaction to anything or anyone. As soon as the Mayor decided he had ogled at her enough, he moved on to mingle with others. Lester hung back and began to whisper in her ear.

  “It wouldn’t kill you to show some more enthusiasm,” he said.

  “I was at a pretty eventful Hollywood party last night,” she responded coldly. “I haven’t had enough time to recuperate.”

  Lester scanned his surroundings as if he were avoiding someone and Celina thought he probably was. He put his hand on her lower back and inched even closer until her breasts pressed on his chest. “And when have you ever said no to a good party, my dear?”

  She wasn’t moved by Lester’s advances anymore. In fact, thoughts of how they used to fool around in high school often sickened her. “Careful, Mr. Peck. Mrs. Peck won’t be too pleased to see you flirting with your high school sweetheart. I know I wouldn’t.”

  “You’ve been married three times in five years, Celina. I wouldn’t give marriage advice if I were you.”

  “Oh, those weren’t marriages, my dear,” she said as she backed away from him. “That’s Hollywood.”

  Before he could say more, a tall brunette had walked up and kissed Lester’s cheek. “You’re up, dear,” she said. She looked over at Celina with clear contempt and said, “would you mind if I steal my husband for a moment, Miss Hagen?”

  “All yours. I dare say I’ve had my fill of his… enthusiasm.”

  Lester chuckled uncomfortably and walked up to a podium to speak. Celina helped herself to another glass and seriously considered firing her manager for thinking her presence at the fundraiser was a good PR move, while Lester thanked all his guests for supporting his political ambitions with their time and money. He made a few scripted jokes which had the desired effect and began to talk about everything wrong with the Republicans and how he would work only for the betterment of…

  Lester had stopped midway into his speech and was staring at someone in the crowd. His reaction to someone in the audience was evident to everyone else in attendance who looked around curiously hoping to understand why he was suddenly tongue-tied. Celina, mostly apathetic to whoever it might have been, looked over her shoulder regardless and dropped her glass without thought. As it shattered upon impact with the floor, all eyes were refocused on her and she merely smiled.

  “I’m guessing that’s going to be my last tonight. I wouldn’t want to give you all an embarrassing show,” she said, and the crowd erupted in laughter. Lester tried to finish his speech while she walked toward the direction of the person she thought she had seen. Maybe she was too drunk. Maybe she imagined seeing him. She had to be sure.

  “Hello, Celina.” The voice was the same. His delivery was the only difference. With that short greeting she could tell that the man that stood behind her wasn’t the same confused, scared and angry boy she knew all those years ago.

  She looked over her shoulder and saw her cousin in a magnificent dark blue suit. “Garrick?”

  Garrick saw Celina the moment he entered his old high school’s gymnasium. She had an aura that directed anyone’s attention toward her, and he stood by the door for almost a half hour making sure he had his bestial instincts under control. He wasn’t there for her and half hoped Vincent was mistaken about her whereabouts. He was there to put an end to Lester’s chances of ever becoming a congressman. He wasn’t sure how he would achieve this. For someone who was known for thinking everything through, Garrick had done very little of it ever since he returned from Terraincardia.

  He had returned to his hotel room aching from his fight with Vincent and his henchmen. Then he relaxed due to his exhaustion from all the effort he put into dealing with them as quickly as possible and got dressed for the event. Nevertheless, as cool as he looked in his fancy suit, he still felt uncomfortable amid all the wealthy men and women crowding the gym.

  Lester, who had grown a peculiar moustache, walked up to the podium and began to speak. This was when Garrick was noticed by him, and then by Celina who, almost as if unsure of what she had seen, came looking for him. At first, he thought he’d hide, but quickly disabused himself of that idea and walked up behind her.

  “Hello, Celina,” he said in the most convincing smooth tone he could muster. She looked back at him with wide-eyed wonderment.

  “Garrick?”

  “Is that really him?” They didn’t realize Lester had finished his speech and walked up to them. “Is that Garrick?”

  Garrick looked askance at his former bully. “Peck,” he said.

  Lester clapped his hands. “Look at you! You don’t look a day over twenty!”

  Garrick went straight to the point. “What’s this I hear about you trying to become a representative?”

  “The New Hampshire 1st District, and I seem to have a realistic shot. What are you? A Republican?”

  “A concerned citizen.”

  Lester laughed condescendingly. “I see what this is. You’re still bitter over how I treated you in high school. Come on, that was years ago. You turned out okay, didn’t you? I’d say you did, considering we all thought you’d killed yourself.”

  The entire time they engaged each other, Celina stood quietly observing her cousin. She could not pinpoint what it was about him, but she found it very hard to take her eyes off him.

  “You’re not winning this, Lester. You’re right, I did do well for myself. Well enough to sink your
political ambition,” said Garrick. He still had no idea how he would achieve anything he claimed. All he knew was he had money—and very little was impossible with the amount of money he had. He considered all the possibilities. He could buy his way into influential positions anywhere. Once, he thought the worst thing he could do to Lester was kill him. But his urge to kill humans had slowly vanished. He would resort to alternate methods of payback.

  “Now you wait a minute,” Lester was getting worked up and had changed his posture from that of a diplomatic politician to the brawler from his earlier years. “Who do you think you are coming in here and making threats?”

  “The bane of your entire fucking existence, Mr. Peck.”

  Lester had grabbed him by the collar and in the scuffle, they tripped a waiter who dropped all the champagne glasses he was serving. All eyes were soon fixed on the two men. Realizing this, Lester nervously attempted to laugh it off. His wife had rushed over to them and demanded to know what was going on. “The donors are watching,” she said. She looked over at Garrick who smirked malevolently. “Who are you?”

  “Old friend,” he said. “I’ll be seeing you, Lester. Say hello to Dennis whenever you get the chance. I really do hope he’s alive and healthy,” and he walked away.

  Celina watched him. She still had trouble accepting he was still alive.

  “Did you invite him?” Lester asked her furiously?

  She did not answer. She ran after him.

  Outside, she caught up with Garrick who was storming off. “Who do you think you are?” she asked as she followed him down the street. “You’re just going to pop up like you’re the Count of Monte Cristo and walk on like nothing’s happened?”

  “I’m not here for you, Celina,” Garrick snapped as he walked faster, but Celina had caught up with him and blocked his path.

  “Bullshit. You want to kill me.” Garrick stuttered for a moment. “The last time I saw you, you tried to kill me, Garrick.”

  He realized he had forgotten the last time he saw her, he was throttling the life out of her. “Get out of my way, Celina.”

  “I always suspected you were alive,” she went on. “I knew I would see you again someday. You’re just trying to torment me, aren’t you?”

  Garrick was taken aback by how paranoid she seemed at that moment. It never did occur to him that the night he tried to kill her all those years ago would affect her so much. He almost felt bad for her—and he never would have anticipated such a thing was possible.

  “I’ve been waiting for you all these years,” she pulled something out of her purse that glistened in the night light. It wasn’t long before Garrick made out what it was.

  “Put that gun away,” he said as calmly as he could. “I promised your father I wouldn’t harm you and I intend to keep my word despite what I believe you deserve.” With this, Garrick walked past her as she stood, pistol in hand, petrified.

  She turned to him again and said, “You’ve seen my father?”

  He knew at once that he had made a grievous error. There were too many questions bound to be brought up.

  He was not wrong.

  “You’ve seen my father?” she asked again, but Garrick still didn’t answer. “He abandoned me in your house. He didn’t say goodbye. I’m his only child.”

  “That’s not my…”

  “But you!” her voice became louder and she pointed the gun at him with murderous intent. “All he could ever do was talk about you! Even before he left me with you, it was Garrick this and Garrick that. It was almost as if he wished you were his child, not me.”

  “You… you’re wrong, he only…”

  “He loved you more than he loved me!” she was crying at that point. “He didn’t say goodbye to me—his fucking daughter. But he did to you.”

  And then it all seemed to make some sense. The years of jeering and torture. The immense hatred she had for him. He remembered the first time they met was a casual and friendly encounter. But things changed only after Hagen left—after she saw them talking through the window that night. The look on her face from the window was one of dread. It all made sense…and it made him angry.

  “That’s why you hated me?” he asked incredulously. “You thought he loved me more than you? Your own father? When you saw us, I was speaking for you! I wanted to know why he was leaving without saying goodbye to you!”

  “Liar!” she screamed.

  “I’m warning you, Celina. Put that gun down and get back to your party.”

  Though her hands trembled, Celina did not lower her weapon. This annoyed him even more. He decided the best thing to do was to shock her with how fast he could snatch the weapon and bend it with his bare hands. However, what happened next took him by surprise instead.

  He had taken a small step forward to gain some momentum to make up for the distance between them in the shortest amount of time, but Argus-eyed Celina took note of this subtle movement and pulled the trigger. Garrick’s confusion from the loud bang of the pistol confused him long enough to forget to dodge the incoming bullet. Before he could, however, it had already gone clean through his temple and out the back of his head sending him falling on his back as he lost all sensation in his entire body.

  Celina, shocked by her actions, screamed. But her instincts made her run away before the curious guests or security in the nearby gym showed up and saw her with a dead body and the murder weapon in her trembling hands. As she got into her car, she Questioned herself and was consumed by a chest-aching sense of regret. She had begun to drive away when she looked through her rearview mirror and noticed someone running toward her car. Her heart jolted at the thought of being discovered so soon by someone, and she accelerated, hoping her face was not seen.

  A Glaring animalistic Garrick had jumped toward the Oldsmobile but missed it as Celina sped away. He rolled on the bare ground wildly but picked himself up and ran after the vehicle. He was no longer himself. In a fit of anger, he had given into the Nephilim’s Rage completely and nothing would calm him down—only her death. There was no room for logic; no room for pity; only room for revenge.

  Garrick had been on the edge and had done everything in his power to hold himself from falling over. Unsurprisingly, a bullet to the head was enough to make all his efforts useless.

  Celina was already doubting her own eyes when she recognized her superhumanly fast pursuer was non-other than Garrick himself. She could not tell for sure because of how fast she drove, but for a moment she thought his face was completely transformed as if he were possessed by a demon. She initially ran to save herself from scandal; but then she was escaping to save herself from a brutal death.

  The roads were not congested—Reading roads seldom were at that time of night—but she had decided to reach the freeway where she would drive faster and lose him. For a while, this seemed to be the smartest choice. As soon as she reached a bridge on the outskirts of town, Garrick seemed to be slowing down and she thought he was finally giving up the chase.

  She was wrong.

  Garrick slowed down only to pick up strength for one great leap. He hit the ground so hard he created a small crater as he sped upwards. With the rushing wind on his face, Garrick sped down like a comet toward the car and landed on its bonnet. The impact sent the Oldsmobile spinning in the air and crashing into a power pole.

  During the ruckus, Garrick hit his head on the pavement and was knocked out for a few minutes. As soon as he came to, he realized what had happened and noted the burning car a few feet away from him.

  “No,” he said under his breath as he ran toward the mangled vehicle. But just as he was about to reach, someone gripped his shoulder and, with immense power, threw him off the bridge. He landed on the road beneath the bridge and was greeted by incoming traffic. He was run over by one car but managed to pick himself up before a truck could do some more damage to him. The startled driver of the car that hit him had grinded to a halt as she screamed hysterically. Garrick ignored her and walked away from the wre
ckage as he readjusted his broken arm.

  Undoubtedly, another Incardian had shown up on the scene, possibly to protect Celina, and he was in for another fight. He dreaded this possibility because he was still weakened by his fight with Vincent who wasn’t an easy adversary. As he made his way back onto the bridge, genuinely curious about Celina’s state, he noticed a familiar man cradling her bloodied body.

  Seeing a completely broken Hagen was not pleasant.

  30

  Hagen looked down at his daughter’s lifeless body with silent sorrow. Garrick contemplated running away. This was exactly what he had hoped to avoid—he did everything he could to avoid this eventuality. Part of him was satisfied. Celina was dead. She represented the very worst part of his life. Everyone who treated him like a subhuman did so at her behest. She was the instigator. And for the first time in a while, he admitted to himself her death was the only closure he needed after everything that had happened to him.

  So why did he also feel like the scum of the earth? Was it because he assured her father he would leave her alone? Or maybe because of the way he caused her death—unintentionally. While overcome by the Rage, he had little to no recollection of what had happened. Back when revenge was at the fore of his thoughts, he often imagined it would be more personal—more like when he almost killed her twenty years before that night. With his hands tightly gripping her neck as he watched her die slowly. Her death now held very little meaning to him because he didn’t see it happen.