Enoch Primordial (Chronicles of the Nephilim)

by Brian Godawa

  He would not have to gather everyone himself. He need only contact a couple of them and they would pass along the information through their prescribed channels. All of them would follow various prepared routes to meet in the secret passageways below the palace, created for this very purpose. Down there, they could weather the danger in the city above. They even had food stores which stayed well-preserved in the cool and dry environment.

  Young Edna had no such preparation. In the harem, they would probably be the last to hear about the tragedy unfolding outside their palace walls.

  Methuselah made his way across the courtyard to the small harem building at the distant end of the palace area. He could hear the screams outside in the streets. He could not imagine why the giants had not breached the palace gates. He glanced over his shoulder. The glow over the walls of the palace told of buildings burning throughout the city. It was as bad as he had expected.

  When he reached the harem building, he dashed into the private chambers. He passed by maidens beautifying themselves and trying on their dresses for tomorrow’s Sacred Marriage rite. Screams of surprise and offended modesty rose up as Methuselah looked around wildly hunting for Edna. Losing his way amidst the clamor and buzz around him, he stumbled upon a girl in an elaborate white dress flattening out its ruffles.

  “Excuse me, miss,” said Enoch.

  She turned, and he lost his breath. He beheld a vision of a stunning young beauty with flowing locks of golden spun hair. It bothered him that the gods got the choicest of the women.

  “Where is Edna?”

  The beauty glared at him with incredulity, exotic make up accentuating her every breathtaking feature. “Are you mocking me?”

  “I am sorry, what?” he replied.

  “Are you that thickheaded? It is me, silly,” said the girl.

  It hit him like a ton of mud bricks. This gorgeous vision of feminine transcendence frowning at him was none other than the transformed presentation of his immature scrawny little boyish girl Edna. His little Pedna. How could he have never seen her this way before?

  He stumbled back a step and almost fainted. He knew at that very moment that he would never be happy in this life again until he married this goddess. This was the very first time he had really truly finally seen her. And his entire life changed in that instant.

  “What is wrong with you?” Edna giggled.

  Methuselah shook it off. He would have to deal with this later. Right now, he had to save her life.

  “Edna, do you trust me?” he said.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Then trust me this once completely, and do exactly as I say. The city is in danger.”

  “What?”

  “I will tell you on the way. Take off this outer dress. We must leave now. No questions asked.”

  She obeyed and pulled it off. Her tunic underneath was better suited for running. His eyes found it quite agreeable.

  She did trust him, with all her heart and soul. She let him lead her out of the building toward the courtyard. He told her about the riots and the giants and the hostages as they ran. It was all horrific, but she was a tough girl. Methuselah realized she was the kind of person you wanted on your side when all Sheol broke loose. She would not scream in fear and shake like a brittle titmouse. She would want to join the fray.

  “You need to tell me where your parents live. My mother went to get them, to bring them with us. But now they are all three caught up in the middle of it.”

  “I will take you there,” said Edna.

  “I want you to stay here,” said Methuselah.

  She looked him square in the eye. “You will not be able to find your way,” she said. “You do not know the city streets, and you certainly do not know the shortcuts. You will get lost, plain and simple. I am not letting you go alone. I want to be with you.”

  He stared back into her eyes. He sometimes questioned whether he should have taught her how to debate so well. But she was right, so it was a good thing he had done it.

  For the first time in her short existence on this earth she saw the expression of a man who would give his life for her without a thought.

  In her eyes he saw the look of a woman who would die by his side rather than be alone. That is, after all, what she had trained for all those years.

  He grinned. “Pedna, let us kick some shank.”

  Throughout Sippar, the streets lay eerily empty. Enoch, Methuselah, and Edna slinked through the shadows, trying to stay out of sight. The screams had died down, sporadic and at a distance. Fires burned all over, but they did not see any giants or people.

  “This is not a good sign,” said Methuselah.

  She responded, “My parents have a secret hideaway in the floor. I am sure they would have hidden there at the first sign of trouble.”

  “Is there room for a third person?” asked Enoch.

  “Yes,” she said. “They always figured me into their plans.”

  “Utu be with them,” prayed Enoch as they continued on. Or should it be Elohim? he thought.

  Ahead of them, in the center of the city, they could see the glow of a huge bonfire. The giants had congregated there with the hostages. The trio needed to pass the gathering to get to the sector where Edna’s parents lived. They slid past homes demolished by the smashing strength of the Nephilim. They shuddered at the degree of damage. Whole houses reduced to rubble, the streets littered with household items and furniture, small fires everywhere. But not a sign of life.

  They made their way through the cluttered back alleys that Edna knew so well. They avoided the central bonfire. They were almost to her parents’ street, when curiosity got the better of them. They decided to turn back and take a look. A gap in the wreckage gave them a better look at the open space.

  The debris in the town square had been cleared away and piled up with wood from the marauding. Nearly a hundred of the giants stood around like a gang of miscreants.

  Vomit arose in Edna’s throat. They could see a crude line of cages full of weeping, pleading humans. Other humans were strung up from poles, and still others were encircled and taunted by groups of Nephilim. But the ultimate atrocity playing out before their eyes was not one of torture and rape, but cannibalism. The Nephilim were eating their captives one by one. Some took the time to impale the victims and roast them over the flames. Others had no such civility, eating the poor humans alive and drinking their blood. The hostages were not being held for ransom at all. They were being held for food.

  Tears filled Enoch’s eyes. He knew the giants were a rowdy community and sometimes got in trouble for their violence, but he had not realized that they were capable of such barbarism. His entire view of the world had turned upside down.

  Suddenly, behind them, they heard the snap of wood and the sound of stumbling and grunting. They dropped to the ground and slid beneath some wreckage. About fifteen cubits away, a drunken Naphil relieved himself in the open. Not all the Nephilim were at the bonfire. Stragglers wandered the streets and back alleys. The trio would have to be extra careful.

  The Naphil belched and then without warning, projectile vomited into a pile of rubbish. The commotion gave Enoch, Methuselah, and Edna the opportunity to slip away without being seen or heard.

  • • • • •

  The Rephaim leaders Thamaq and Yahipan were not at the palace or coordinating a military response to the riots because they had been the ones who betrayed the militia guard. They had been the ones to lock the city gates, and they had been the ones to instigate the mob riots of Nephilim. They had planned this entire drunken orgy of bloodlust. They had now gone off to a dark corner of the city to celebrate. Bloodshed made them delirious with carnal desire that they acted out on each other.

  After they had finished their depraved deed, they donned their royal robes and started back to the bonfire. Only a few streets from the scene of Nephilim atrocities, they heard a noise from one of the homes. They slipped up to a window and peered inside. An older couple climb
ed up from a trap door in the floor amidst a pile of debris. Smirking to each other, the Rephaim positioned themselves near the door, ready to trap these renegades. But they paused at a sight they had not expected. Someone they knew very well followed the older couple from the hiding place: Edna, the wife of Enoch the apkallu.

  Their smirks turned to broad grins. What a lucky surprise for them, and what an unlucky surprise for these poor leeches. They burst in the home.

  The would-be fugitives gasped and backed into a corner. Edna picked up the remains of a chair and brandished it as a weapon.

  Thamaq laughed and brushed it aside as though it were nothing more than a feather. He grabbed Edna by the throat and pinned her against the wall. Then he seized the other woman with his free hand.

  As Yahipan subdued the old man, Thamaq glared at Edna. “What are you doing here, wife of Enoch? You should have stayed safe in the palace.”

  She struggled in his suffocating grasp. “Why are you doing this?” she choked out. He ignored her question. He leaned in close. “I have long fantasized about consuming your corpse.” Thamaq opened his mouth to bite off her head.

  He did not get to chomp tonight. A knife flew through the air and penetrated his cheek. He dropped the wench to the ground. clutching his wound in pain. He pulled out the blade with a wince of pain. He looked for the source of the stinger.

  Enoch stood a knife’s throw away. Just behind him, panting from running, appeared young Edna in her virginal tunic, now soiled with the dirt of the city.

  It confused Thamaq. It did not make sense, all this royalty out of context in the tenement district of the city.

  Yahipan felt no such confusion or hesitation. He immediately started for the little rodent to squash him with impunity. But he did not think ahead. He did not consider there might be a third party lying in wait.

  Yahipan rushed toward his prey. The hidden Methuselah struck out with his knife and sliced the heel tendon of Yahipan’s right foot.

  The Rapha screamed in pain. His leg gave way, tumbling him to the ground with a large thud. He carried the old man in his arms, and used him to cushion his fall. The impact of the giant’s body crushed the life out of the poor fellow.

  “FATHER!” screamed Edna.

  Methuselah shot a glance in her direction. He did not see Thamaq focus on him. The Rapha threw his captives to the ground and jumped for Methuselah. He swatted the human with such force that it jettisoned Methuselah a good fifteen cubits into a wall, knocking him senseless.

  When Yahipan fell forward, he landed within arm’s reach of Enoch and Edna. He grabbed them both in his iron vise grip. They were not going to break free from this monster. Thamaq brought the stunned Methuselah over and threw him down next to Edna. All three of them looked up into the eyes of fate ready to crush them.

  “I love you, Edna,” muttered Methuselah.

  “I have always loved you,” she replied.

  “Is that not precious,” snorted Thamaq. “Maggots in love.”

  “SON OF SHEOL, THIS HURTS!” screamed Yahipan. “I want that little worm Utuabzu. I am going to eat him alive.”

  Thamaq motioned forcefully for Yahipan to wait as he mused over their prey.

  “Let us not be hasty, Yahipan. Consider what we have here. The royal apkallu and his apprentice son. Here to save the family of a sacred virgin with whom they have committed treason against the gods.” It would indeed be considered treason to steal away a virgin betrothed for the Sacred Marriage rite to Utu.

  “I would say that was a deed punishable by death, would you not agree, Yahipan?” said Thamaq.

  Yahipan nursed his wounded tendon. His every word came out filled with venom, “I think they deserve a fate worse than death. I am going to violate you apkallus first and make you watch what we do to your little lovebird here.”

  Enoch swallowed. This was the end. He saw Enmeduranki’s priestly jewels hanging from Yahipan’s neck, and he knew the priest-king’s fate. A fate that would soon be their own. The three held hands and prepared to meet the gods.

  And meet the gods they did.

  A loud trumpet call filled the skies and the Rephaim looked around. The earth trembled. Thunder cracked the sky.

  Yahipan gasped, “The war cry of Anu!”

  The bonfire in the distance flared up with supernatural vigor. They heard the sounds of battle, the sounds of weapons of war.

  “It is the pantheon,” said Thamaq. “They found us.”

  Everyone turned to see a group of four Nephilim fleeing on the streets. Hot on their tails stormed one of the gods, though they could not tell which one. The god dove and tackled the Nephilim like a group of pins in a sport. The fugitives tried to get up and defend themselves, but the deity sliced through them with his strange scythe-looking weapon as if they were blades of wheat in the wind.

  Methuselah could not believe his eyes.

  The god looked up and saw him. Methuselah went white. He looked behind himself. Thamaq and Yahipan had already vanished. Young Edna held onto her mother, kneeling on the ground where she had fallen. Next to her, Enoch clutched his wife Edna.

  The god walked toward them, joined by another. Methuselah realized it was Anu followed by Utu. Utu called out, “Methuselah! Thank the stars you are alive. Where is the priest-king and your father? Are they alive as well?”

  He was the sun god, patron of the city, thought Methuselah. He should have better knowledge of the whereabouts of his servants. Methuselah stepped aside.

  Utu saw Enoch cradling his beloved wife in his arms, weeping.

  Methuselah said, “Thank you for saving us.” He limped over to young Edna, and knelt down beside her. He held her in his arms as she held her mother’s lifeless body in hers. He was close enough to extend his hand to his father. The three of them were united in their grief. Their loved ones were all dead.

  The gods approached them. Anu said, “I am sorry for your loss.”

  Utu followed up with, “The pantheon will make sure your loved ones make it safely through the Abyss into Sheol.”

  That was not much comfort to Enoch. What he knew of Sheol did not reassure him. Sheol was the land of the dead, the netherworld, from which no one returns. It was said that the mouth of Sheol was never satisfied and the shades of the dead rested on a bed of maggots where the worm does not die.

  Anu said, “The Gigantomachy has been suppressed. Their rebellion is averted.”

  Enoch did not care about the rebellion. He did not care about the gods. He did not care about anything anymore. His Edna was gone. Now, only his son Methuselah kept him anchored to this earth.

  Chapter 11

  Only a few hundred citizens of Sippar were saved by the gods from the rampaging Nephilim. Similar scenes of debauched giant uprisings and anarchy had played out in other cities of the plain. Pazuzus, the grotesque flying messengers, had been used to spread the madness to other cities. Unfortunately for the mobs of giants, that same source of news found its way to the pantheon, who responded with swift justice from their lofty height on Mount Hermon. Many of the giants were killed, but some of them surrendered quickly to their procreators, and were incarcerated for further interrogation and later execution.

  Anu, Inanna, and Utu had arrived and called a gathering to make an announcement. The surviving citizens assembled before the palace. Though Sippar was Utu’s city, Anu was chief deity, so he was traveling the circuit of cities making appearances at each one to inspire hope and unity. He spoke with a fatherliness that moved Enoch’s heart. Methuselah and Edna were not so easily enamored.

  “People of Sippar, we stand before you today with shared sorrow and deep regret.”

  Inanna stood behind Anu, taking note of the dance of verbal artifice displayed in his elocution. She listened with a mixture of awe and resentment, but she listened and learned from this master of rhetoric.

  Anu continued, “This Nephilim rebellion, this Gigantomachy, has wrought great destruction throughout the cities of our rule. We have all suffered
great loss. And I want to assure you that on behalf of the pantheon of your gods, I feel your pain.”

  Disgusting, thought Inanna. Is he shedding a tear? He has actually mustered up a reptilian tear from within the stone cold rock of his soul.

  The people before them listened in resigned silence.

  “The divine council has convened and deliberated on what is to be done for justice to be served on these criminals and degenerates. After much soul wrenching we have come to a most painful yet necessary judgment.”

  Soul wrenching, thought Inanna. She must remember that word. It gave the humans the impression that we have a conscience.

  “The giants have become an unruly elite of privilege and power,” Anu proclaimed. “They have conspired in revolution and have proven themselves unworthy of their status and authority. As of this day, the gods have removed the giants from leadership over you, and their organized activities have become illegal. The surviving Nephilim will no longer be allowed to congregate, and the Rephaim are considered outlaws for their conspiracy in the riots. They will no longer reign over you. Any giants that are found outside the employ of the palace or temple authority are considered criminals and will be executed. We gods have remained too distant and aloof from our people. But we will now leave our heavenly abode in the cosmic mountain and will reside in the cities of our patronage. We will protect you and shepherd you with our undivided attention.”

  The people murmured to one another. Enoch thought, Could it be true? Could the gods come and dwell amongst us? This seemed to make Elohim further distant in his invisibility and removed presence.

  The plan repulsed Inanna. These stinking organisms of bone, flesh, and excrement are loathsome, she thought. Elohim displayed his true incompetence when he created such foul parasites in his image — his despicable image that the gods had sworn an oath to desecrate.

  Anu’s voice carried out over the crowd. “Some Nephilim who were captured have expressed remorse for their part in the uprising. Others did not join in. In our grace, we have chosen to accept these few loyal ones back into the fold of our mercy. We will brand them with tattoos of our ownership, and employ them only as our bodyguards and special forces. Those who escaped their punishment into the desert or wilderness will be hunted down and brought to justice.”