Stalking Tender Prey

by Constantine, Storm

  Stalking Tender Prey

  Book One of The Grigori Trilogy

  Storm Constantine

  Stafford, England

  Stalking Tender Prey: Book One of The Grigori Trilogy

  © Storm Constantine 1995

  Smashwords edition 2009

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people, or events, is purely coincidental.

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  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  The right of Storm Constantine to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

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  Cover Artist: Ruby

  Layout: Andy Lowe

  An Immanion Press Edition published through Smashwords

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  Foreword

  For those of you who regularly read my work, this novel will be a return to familiar territory—that of the fallen angels, who have been featured in my novel, Burying the Shadow, and various other shorter pieces, as well as providing some of the inspiration for my first work, the trilogy of the Wraeththu. However, I have long wanted to write a novel set in a contemporary world rather than a fantasy universe, and, in this, Stalking Tender Prey is new and uncharted territory.

  The novel began life as a short story, ‘A Change of Season’, in Midnight Rose’s Weerde anthology, a collection of stories about a shape-changing race (created by Neil Gaiman, Roz Kaveney and Mary Gentle). I always knew I wanted to expand this story at some point, although it was unlikely I’d be able to write a Weerde novel as Midnight Rose was no longer operational. The only way to achieve my aim was to remove all the attributes linking the story to the world of the Weerde and transform it into something else. There were similarities between ‘A Change of Season’ and my novel, ‘Burying the Shadow’, so the direction became clear. The novel would be based on the theme that has lured back my attention again and again: the Fallen Ones.

  I have delved into the subject of angels, fallen and otherwise, for a long time, which back in the late Seventies led to my discovery of the legends of the Watchers and the Nefilim. These myths tell of a race of people, who were identified as ‘messengers of God’, who were very tall and who could fly between the earth and the heavens. The Watchers were members of this race.

  Perhaps their name was a title, like police or army. Certainly it suggests they had a supervisory function, as they were also known as the Sleepless Ones, who were forever ‘watching’. According to the old stories, some of the Watchers rebelled against authority, for which they were severely punished. Their crimes involved taking human wives, as well as imparting ‘forbidden’ knowledge to humanity. The Nefilim were the hybrid offspring of Watchers and humans, monstrous because of their size and strength and their apparently bloodthirsty habits. There is a bewildering array of different names and terms for various offshoots of the Watchers and the Nefilim, which is confusing to say the least, and caused more than a few headaches in the editorial stage of creating this book! However, the introduction entitled ‘The Grigori Cometh’ introduces and explains the terminology I use throughout the novel.

  Those interested in the occult will notice, (in the scenes depicting magical rituals), that although I have followed tradition with the elemental correspondences for north (earth) and east (air), I have not done so for south and west. The correspondences given here, water (instead of fire) for south and fire (instead of water) for west relate to earlier beliefs, and seemed more in keeping with the spirit of the novel.

  Legends of fallen angels imparting knowledge to humanity crop up in many mythologies, in different forms, so much so that it is easy to imagine they must have once had a basis in truth. Modern non-fiction writers are now investigating this possibility. Some have been attracted by the ‘angel’ connection, while others have a broader view: there must have been an advanced race before the Ancient Egyptians, but who were they? Where is the evidence for their existence? Why can’t we find it? Is it already visible for all to see, but simply unrecognised for what it is?

  In researching this book, I explored the work of writers who are attempting to answer some of these perhaps unanswerable questions. Primarily, I drew upon the hard work of Andrew Collins, whose book ‘From the Ashes of Angels’ is a comprehensive study which examines the true origins of the Watchers. Just as influential was the music of Carl McCoy, the driving force behind the band Fields of the Nephilim, and more recently, The Nefilim. Carl’s affinity with this subject predates the work of many of those now drawn to it.

  Also, the dreams and visions of psychic Debbie Benstead provided a fascinating insight into the more subjective aspects of lost civilisations, and offered a deeper understanding of the symbolism behind the story of the fallen angel, Shemyaza, and the human maiden, Ishtahar.

  For those of you who share my fascination with this subject, and would like to investigate it further, I want to list some of the material I used for research and as inspiration. I have updated this list since ‘Stalking Tender Prey’ saw its first publication in England in 1995, to include other books recently published that might be of interest to those who enjoy this subject.

  I do not take a religious view of the Nefilim, such as that of Elizabeth Clare Prophet, nor believe they were spacemen, like Zecharia Sitchin, but I have included their work in the list below simply because I drew upon certain aspects of their books in the creation of ‘Stalking Tender Prey’.

  It is now five years since I first began work on this trilogy, and there have been many developments in the realm of historical enigmas, which shed light on the legends of the fallen angels. Some of the books that resulted from this work are now included in the bibliography. Perhaps one of the most important areas of research includes the site known as Nevali Cori, which is examined in detail in Andrew Collins’ latest book, ‘Gods of Eden’. Nevali Cori was an early Neolithic township (around 8000 BC) on the River Euphrates, near Erfa in Southeast Turkey. It was originally discovered in the 1980s by a German archaeological team, but has only recently come under popular study. It is unfortunate that the site is now inaccessible owing to widespread flooding during the construction of the Ataturk dam, but it was photographed extensively while still above water. Nevali Cori has a temple structure, known as the cult building, which is aligned astronomically to the constellation Cetus, the whale. These stars can be said to represent the sea monster and primal chaos, Tiamat, from the Mesopotamian tradition. The cult building is also aligned perfectly towards the Giza plateau in Egypt. Various sculptures and carvings of bird-men were discovered at the site, where vulture imagery played a prominent role. According to Andrew Collins, this clearly shows that at one time Nevali Cori was the cult centre for a priestly caste, who adorned themselves in costumes of bird feathers. Evidence from Nevali Cori authenticates much of the work that appeared in Andrew’s earlier book, ‘From The Ashes Of Angels’, the subject matter of which has been widely accepted by academics and scholars. Many re
searchers now agree that there was a ruling elite controlling the rise of the Neolithic world in the Near East, sometime between 9000 and 5000 BC, and that these people originally came out of Egypt, where they’d been responsible for the construction of the monuments such as the Great Sphinx and other huge stone temples. According to mythological accounts, these people were of striking appearance, being very tall, with faces resembling serpents or vipers. They would have stood out as very different to the local indigenous people. Anatomical remains from all over the near east show that there was a genetic group, of tall build, with extremely long heads, who some anthropologists now accept had great influence over the Neolithic communities. They were represented as serpent-headed figures, often with head-dresses of feathers. All of this suggests that humanity didn’t just happen to develop from hunter-gatherers into settled farming communities. Perhaps it no longer seems quite so incredible that a strange and different race, known to us as the Watchers, or the Elders, handed, at a price, the seed of civilisation to the Neolithic human communities in the area.

  When this book was first published, I stated at this point that it was a supernatural novel, and I had no real evidence that the material it is based upon is hard fact. However, as time passes, more and more evidence is uncovered to suggest otherwise. But this novel, and its sequels, are not just polemics to augment historical research. They are stories, romances, mysteries. Anything is possible in fiction. There is still the enticing possibility that once the Nefilim walked among us, and that they perhaps still do, and that is where the fascination lies.

  Storm Constantine, February 1998

  The Grigori Cometh

  Long, long ago, when the earth was a little younger, there came into this world a strange race — human in many respects, but also somehow different.

  These people were tall, with legs, arms and fingers that were attenuated and slender. Their complexions were pale, their looks gaunt, but it was their long faces that really set them apart, with their elongated features, high foreheads, sharp cheek bones, small, well-shaped lips and bright, piercing eyes — the bluest ever seen.

  To look directly into their faces was a forbidden act, for they exuded a hypnotic brilliance of supernatural origin, while around the locks on their heads was a divine glow that made them different to any other men or women in this world. Some said this lustrous radiance was caused by the strange oils they rubbed upon their skin, while others claimed it was a sign by which they could be recognised as gods walking among humanity.

  No one knew where they came from, but all knew they were not like us. To some they were known as Anannage, the Shining Ones, to others they were known as angels, devas and djinn, while still others knew them as the Cabari, Gigantes and Titans.

  Some even called them bene ha-Elohim — the sons of God — or Watchers, those who watch, due to their ever-watchful eyes, like those of serpents and lizards, and their houses, which they set high above the world on lofty crags, similar to the eyries created by eagles and vultures. And the Anannage must have been much taken with these great birds, for on their brief incursions into the homesteads of humanity, they came looking like vultures, with their long white hair and cloaks of dark feathers.

  Initially, they kept themselves to themselves, these Anannage, never mingling with the men and women who made their homes in the forests and lowlands. Then a time came when they were forced to take on labour to enable them to fulfil their mammoth building and engineering projects in the high places. Here the men and women would help them to dig irrigation ditches and reservoirs, domesticate animals, make vessels of clay and metal and grow strange cereals, leaving the Anannage free to tend the sacred blue flame deep within the mountain where the Seven High Lords met to decide the affairs of humanity.

  Eventually, against all the ancient laws that forbade it, many Anannage took wives for themselves from among the peoples of the lowlands, and to these women great secrets were revealed, concerning the movement of the stars, the wielding of magic and sorcery, the fashioning of weapons for war, the art of cunning, the pleasures of the flesh and the beautification of our women folk.

  And to the women of the rebel Anannage were born children, monstrous because of their great height, and having the long features of their fathers. They were half-breeds, shunned by all, and were called Nefilim — those who had fallen — because of the inexcusable sins committed by both their Anannage fathers and human mothers. Embittered, the Nefilim raged across the land, making war and plundering the settlements of humanity. It was said they ate human flesh and drank human blood. No-one was safe from them.

  The Anannage who had remained true to the ancient laws then sought out and punished those of their kind who had dared to break the oaths and traffic with the daughters of men. Those children born unto the wives of the rebels were seized and destroyed, or else provoked into warring with one another, until it was assumed no further Nefilim remained.

  For the leader of the rebel Anannage, one called Shemyaza, a most terrible fate awaited. For revealing the sacred oaths of his forebears to his maiden lover, Ishtahar, and inciting his half-breed sons to violate the lands of the Anannage, he was cast over a rocky precipice to hang upside down by one foot until every ounce of life had been expended from his body. Furthermore, his soul was banished to remain for all eternity within the starry gate of Orion, never to return to this world and never to experience the knowledge of the One existing beyond the heavenly portal.

  His example would be a reminder, for all to come, of the sins committed by the rebel Anannage in the names of lust and desire.

  Despite all their efforts, the Anannage’s infanticide was to no avail. Too much intercourse had taken place between their kind and the daughters of men for the High Lords to vanquish the Nefilim completely. New generations saw the birth of Nefilim-featured babies among families of men and women, who had themselves never had loves among the rebel Anannage. Sometimes, the bodies of these babies were so large they had to be cut from the bellies of their mothers to allow entry into this world.

  Women grew to fear these hideous births and many charms were used to try and prevent such devils being born. Those who did bear such children were accused of lying with demons or rebel Anannage, while their offspring were often shunned and disowned by their families. Even so, many were destined to grow into huge, fearsome warriors, wicked sorcerers and great prophets, with the power to wield either ultimate good or ultimate evil. Of these, some even created the first members of races who still bear their name: families of giants, demons and cruel warriors, such the Anakim, the sons of Anak, who lived in the underground cities of Basham and built rude monuments of stone that still litter our lands. The Anakim also travelled the world and created settlements on the southern shores of Ireland and England. They were the truth behind all the legends of giants in the folklore of these regions. Other branches of the half-breed families included Zamzummim, the Achievers; Emim, the Terrors; Rephaim, the Weakeners and Gibborium, the Giants. Eventually, those half-breed families that thrived agreed to co-operate in their manipulation of human affairs, and took for themselves the name of Grigori, which originated from a Greek word for Watchers. They bred and grew stronger, hidden amongst humanity, yet wielding great power in human commerce.

  All evidence of the great race of the Anannage has vanished from our world, and no-one knows what became of them. But their half-breed descendents, the Grigori, live on among us today, their presence clear to those who have eyes to see. Their tall stature, their great strength, their long faces, their reclusive clans, their power to understand the ways of the ancients and their ability to wield forbidden magic are all signs one must watch for.

  Yet many go unseen now, their past features lost through the many generations since the demise of their culture. They recognise their past only through dreams and visions, while others simply want to forget their forbidden heritage. Some, as you might say, have become almost human...

  Andrew Collins

  1995
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  Prologue: The Arrival

  Friday, 16th October: A journey by train from Cresterfield in the north of England

  The child watched him from across the carriage. His eyes were closed, leaking only a shining sliver, as if tears gathered there in darkness, but he could feel the girl’s intense scrutiny, the half-formed butterfly questions, flitting through her focused child’s mind. He did not mind. Children, untainted by experience, might recognise him sometimes.

  His long hands lay loosely clasped in his lap. He felt empty, neither guilty nor exultant. What had happened further north in the city was finished with now. There were no victories to savour, no mistakes to lament. He was not running away but running onwards.

  A man came to check tickets, to clip and stamp them. The traveller was forced to open his eyes, search for the square of card. The guard, braced on stiff legs against the movement of the train, did not look at the traveller’s face. He moved on. ‘Tickets please. Passengers since Cresterfield.’

  The traveller smiled at the wide-eyed girl who continued to stare, then he looked out at the world through glass.

  Beyond the train, the countryside had changed. It looked both younger and older than the flattened areas of industry and human overpopulation he had recently left behind. Spiky hills, raw rock poking through. Blankets of forests, rough heath: a place of ancient legends. The summer was fading into that frowzy, tired interim period — the Earth masquerading as an overdressed and sadly declining female — before a brief spurt of harsh colour led the unforgiving winter in by the nose.

  He spent so much time in the city places: the only time he ever saw the seasons change was from the inside of trains or coaches or cars. The land rushed by beyond the dust-veiled window, and he rested his head against the glass.