Ancient Evil (The First Genocide Book 1)

by Griffiths, Brent J.

  St. Andrews, Scotland, 1994

  After dinner they went a wine bar, they ordered beer and shared a desert. The wine bar was known more for the quality of its deserts than its wine, so they had a couple of pints. He was feeling good; they were talking about little and laughing a lot.

  “So, you going to walk me home, Finn, my boy?”

  “Walk you home? Sure.”

  “And tell me,” she leaned forward and lowered her voice, “can you be quiet, Mr. Alexander?

  “Uh, yeah, I think so, why?”

  “Well, if I am going to sneak you into Old Hall, you will need to be quiet. You don’t want to wake the old troll who keeps us girls safe, whether we want it or not.”

  “And do you want it?” his face went red. “I mean …”

  She laughed.

  He grabbed her hand and turned serious. “I will probably kick myself for asking this,” he took a breath, “but what about, what’s his name? Brian?”

  “You know his name is Brian and I have some good news for you. Brian and I are no longer together.”

  Finn smiled. “Let’s go along the beach and then cut across the golf course; it’s quicker,” he said

  She pouted, “You really don’t know girls very well, do you, Finn? Last thing a lady wants is quicker.”

  He blushed again.

  “I’m kidding,” she said. “But I like your idea. Let’s walk along the beach and look at the stars and waves. And if you don’t ruin the mood somehow, I will sneak you into the last all-female bastion of this University, Old Hall.”

  Leader’s spirit snapped back into her bod. She flowed to her feet from where she was crouched against the cave wall.

  Leader: Time to go.

  A darkness flowed through the old sapper tunnels and out of the castle onto South Street. The coven was a dark wind flowing through the town.

  Fast.

  Silent.

  Deadly.

  The few people on the streets unconsciously stepped back into doorways to avoid them as they passed. The more sensitive of the townspeople shivered as they felt ancient evil brush past.

  Leader led them down to the beach. It seemed they were going to go over ground to the train station. That made sense; they could move almost as fast over broken ground as along a road.

  The beach was deserted except for a couple of students sitting beside each other in the sand talking, a male and a female. The female was resting her head on the male’s shoulder, and his jacket was wrapped around them to ward off the seasonably cold wind coming off the North Sea.

  “Take them. Keep the girl to sustain us on the road; we will need to move fast. Do what you will with the boy, but make sure he dies,” she said.

  They reached the couple just as the boy’s lips touched the girl’s.

  The sky was clear and they looked up at a billion stars as they walked along the path through the sword grass to the sand. They sat down to take off their shoes at the edge of the beach so that they could feel the cool, dry sand beneath their toes.

  With the sound of the surf in their ears, he said “Bex, what I said at dinner that time at the Indian … You know, about loving you.”

  “Careful, you may still blow this,” she said. “But seriously, at first I didn’t get it; you shy boys are so weird. If you like a girl, you leave the room as they enter, or you talk to everyone around them, but not them. You glare at them.”

  “I wasn’t glaring, I was mooning. No wait, I didn’t mean that.”

  How he loved her husky, full-bodied laugh. He wanted to dedicate his life thinking of different ways to get her to laugh.

  “So are you going to kiss me or what?” he said.

  “Cheeky bugger, that’s my line. But yes, I think I will. I must do my best to encourage shy boys.”

  She tilted her head up and he leaned in to kiss her. His head exploded in fireworks. I always thought that “fireworks” was just a saying, he thought.

  He tasted sand in his mouth, and realized he was face down on the ground.

  Then he heard Bex scream.

  She heard the faint patter of feet sprinting across the sand. Suddenly Finn was gone and she found herself held against a man’s chest, looking down on Finn stretched out on the sand.

  Bex screamed.

  Her captor clamped a hand across her mouth. The flesh of the hand was rippling as if there were a legion of beetles wriggling under the skin. The hand elongated, and talons grew from the tips of his fingers. Bex’s eyes grew wider as she felt the metamorphosis against her face. Not only the hand was changing, but her captor was getting taller and broader. The temperature of the beach dropped significantly and she could feel the heat being leached from her body by the figure holding her. As he grew, her feet were lifted off the sand, until they dangled at his knees. He tipped his head forward and whispered to her, “Silence.” His voice was a beautiful deep bass that pierced to the center of her being. He removed his hand from her mouth, and she tried to scream, unsuccessfully; her vocal cords were paralyzed.

  She could see that he was not alone. His companions were also swelling, getting taller, stronger. They too had grown talons.

  Her captor continued to whisper in her ear, “It’s a pity your man did not know when to give up. Well, a pity for you and him; it is quite the opposite for us. He could have stopped his research at any time.”

  A red-haired female, Bex could not think of her as a woman anymore, picked Finn up with her left hand, his feet a few inches off the sand. Her right hand was poised above his face, and her talons glistened wetly. In spite of their now-massive size, there was nothing brutish about them. They looked sleek, powerful. They reminded her of big jungle cats, tigers, no, maybe panthers. There was definitely something of the night in them. She could not imagine them in the light of day.

  “Come on, Charlie, don’t play with your food,” said a smaller, dark-haired female. Smaller being a relative term. Prior to the change she had been a petite five foot nothing; she was now more like six and a half feet tall. Her voice was the tinkling of silver bells with a faint accent, French possibly.

  The one called Charlie turned to look at the now-giant pixie and said, “Wait your turn, Eve, there will be plenty left for you.” Her voice was no less beautiful, not as high, sultrier.

  “Just don’t mess him up too much before I get my chance. We will all get more that way,” said Eve.

  Charlie turned back to Finn and raked her claws along his torso from shoulder to hip, shredding his shirt in the process. His mouth stretched wide to scream; however, he could not seem to get more than a strangled gasp out. She then slowly scored the left side of his face, leaving four bloody tracks down his face and through his left eye. The wounds started to smoke, and the eye on that side of his face liquefied and ran down his cheek.

  The other male stepped forward next. He grabbed Finn and threw him twenty feet straight up in the air. He stepped to the side when he came down and stomped his left leg. The sound of a dry branch breaking shot across the sand. He stomped a few more times, pulverizing the leg.

  Eve then sauntered forward, “My turn,” she said. She lifted him by his belt, and thrust her hand at his crotch. She jerked her hand back. “Sweetbreads anyone?” she said, holding out his testicles in her right hand. She turned back to him and took a nibble of the steaming organs, watching him closely.

  Finn was on the verge of passing out. The one called Eve said, “Oh, no, not yet.” She leaned and looked into his eyes. Finn jerked as if an electric shock had run through his body. He managed to get a gasping scream out.

  The male holding Bex spoke to her softly, “He’s very strong, very sweet. You are too.”

  They all tipped their heads back and seemed to drink in the misery and horror for what seemed like hours, but for what was probably just a few seconds. The aura of menace and danger swelled around them. They heard a dog bark and all turned as one toward the sound, then, uncannily, all looked to the one who had hung back the entire time at the
same time. She still looked human with short blonde hair.

  “We cannot kill anyone else here. It would draw too much attention. Throw him into the water and let’s go. He is done.”

  The male picked him up in one hand and reached back to throw him like a rag doll out to sea. The sight of his broken jellied leg made Bex feel like vomiting. She screamed in her mind, “FINN!” with all her might. The male holding him stumbled as he hit the apex of his throw and Finn flew to the edge of the surf rather into the deep water further out. The male looked at her, then the others, with a raised eyebrow.

  “Sleep,” the male holding her said, and she did.

  ***

  Mara Novak was walking Daisy along the beach. The night was clear, with no moon, and the stars in the sky were breathtaking. She felt like she and Daisy were the only living things on the planet, which, she felt, would not be a hardship.

  She was sad. Earlier that day she had heard that her good friend Jeffrey Proctor had succumbed to his burns and passed away. The pain of his death demonstrated to her once again that the cost of friendship was high — too high. Once again she vowed to not get close to another again. It was a vow she had made and broken many times. The romantic entanglements of her youth had all withered as her fear of trust was often interpreted as indifference.

  She would once again throw herself into the world of intellect.

  The slight breeze ruffled her hair as walked. She let her mind wander. Although she loved her little world of academia, proving over and over again that she was brilliant, it was never enough. As exciting as the thrill of discovering something new or of disproving some common belief were, she knew that she would eventually break her vow and seek companionship.

  And that was the heart of her problem: companions never lasted long. She had no one to share her achievements with. A handful of people across the globe understood her field enough to debate it with her, and most other subjects did not interest her much. Her other social interactions were mainly with students who, except for a few exceptions, she loathed. She liked teaching; she just didn’t like the students. None of them shared her obsession. They were all interested in their own little indulgences. They were only interested in passing her class and promptly forgetting the content.

  And then there was Daisy, her golden retriever. She did love Daisy. She did as she was told and listened intently to everything she said.

  Well, Daisy usually did as she was told. At the moment Daisy was barking and running towards the water. This was a definite no-no. Mara called after her and ran to catch up. The last time this happened Daisy had found something dead and fishy to roll in. Mara was in no mood to wash a fishy, sandy, sodden golden tonight.

  As she caught up it indeed looked like Daisy had found something bobbing in the surf. It was pretty big, maybe a washed-up log, Mara thought. She pulled her torch from her bag and shone it on the object Daisy had found. She had trouble figuring out what she was seeing until she recognized the sound of a whimper over the sound of the surf. The sandy lump of flesh was a person. She looked around wildly; she needed to get some help.

  The City, Year 7875 in the Reign of Enki II

  Hael would meet the Emperor today.

  As One in the graduating class he would be presented to the Emperor, who would give him his first commission. He could reasonably expect to be assigned a command of a squad of ten troopers in the Northern or Eastern Campaign. If he was unlucky, he would be assigned to the military archives and work on developing new strategies to defeat the Ferals. He was not opposed to strategy development — quite the contrary, he had excelled at it during his studies. He just preferred to get into the field and apply all the knowledge and skills he had acquired over the past six years at a practical rather than a theoretic level.

  He wanted to do his part to repay the Debt.

  He was strapping on his sword when one of the boys from Bral’s year burst into his room. His words came as gasps as he tried to catch his breath and to talk at the same time.

  “Your brother,” he wheezed, then took a few deep breaths. “Bral.”

  Hael was concerned; good news was never delivered with such attempted urgency. “Yes, my brother Bral … is there something wrong?”

  The boy nodded. “Bral has been taken to the infirmary.”

  “Come with me, and tell me what you know on the way.”

  The boy slumped; he dreaded another run, this time while talking. Hael was too worried about his brother to feel too much sympathy for the boy. However, if he was to get any information out of him he would need to keep it to a jog while they talked.

  They trotted out of his room. “Tell me what you know.”

  “This morning when we woke, the prefect on duty noticed that Bral was not in his cot. He had us check the other barracks but no one could find him.”

  “Did he alert the Marshals?” asked Hael.

  “Yes, as we checked the barracks the prefect reported Bral’s absence to Mi Donta and they expanded the search. A little while ago they found him badly beaten in one of the smaller instruction halls.”

  “Why didn’t they send for me sooner?”

  “Perhaps they did not want to disturb you on Graduation day if there was nothing wrong. No one thought it was serious.”

  “It looks like they were wrong.”

  Hael picked up speed and left the boy panting in his wake.

  The bullying had stopped for a few months after the death of Samael. It started up again a few months later, in small ways that gradually grew. In the last few weeks Hael had started to worry about what would happen to Bral when he had left the academy, but he had not thought that any threat was imminent.

  He ran into the infirmary and saw a clump of people surrounding a figure on a mat on the floor. He slowed a little and approached. It took him a moment to confirm that it was indeed Bral lying there. His face was so bruised it was hard to recognize him. His arm was splinted; it must have been broken. The healers withdrew a little to provide Bral and him some privacy.

  “Bral,” he said softly.

  Bral turned his head and croaked out, “Congratulations, Ga Hael.”

  “Bral, you can’t call me that, not yet, anyway. I haven’t been commissioned yet.” Hael crouched and took his youngest brother’s hand. “What happened, Bral?”

  “I am so sorry, Hael, I didn’t want to ruin your day.

  “Don’t you dare apologize to me. This is not your fault.”

  “If only I was stronger –”

  “Nonsense, it isn’t your fault that they pick on you. I will talk to Mi Donta and see if he can do anything.”

  “No, leave it. Please. That will only make things worse. It’s not just the other boys; the instructors don’t like me either, mostly because I’m not you. I don’t pick things up as quickly as you do. The younger boys and some of the boys in your year worship you. There is even a rumor that Mi Donta was overheard stating that he has never seen a more promising cadet than you. To them all, I am a disappointment.”

  “Don’t say that, Bral. Don’t compare yourself to me, or to anyone else. We all repay the Debt according to our strengths. My contribution will be no more or less valuable than yours.”

  “Humble too.” He laughed briefly and bitterly. “It is just so much to live up to, and I can’t do it Hael. Not anymore.”

  “You need to stick it out. You have spent four years on this path; don’t throw it away. What will you do if you leave? Our family has only ever served in the military. Just get through one more year, please? After that we will talk about it again.”

  “I… I’ll try, I just don’t know if I can do it.”

  The Graduation ceremony did not include a lot of pomp or speeches, but it took time. Each of the two hundred and six boys who were graduating walked into the amphitheater according to their final raking to be presented to the Marshals.

  As One, Hael was at the front. The ceremony was very simple but, even so, Hael and, he was sure, his peers felt a litt
le anxious and excited as each one of them knelt in front of the two marshals and offered their sword to Mi Donta. Mi Donta accepted each sword and cast it into a barrel of oil for storage. Mi Zabab then drew a new sword from a rack and touched each boy on the head with it, before passing it to him by the blade.

  After accepting his new bronze blade and sheathing it, Hael backed away so Two could be presented with his new blade. Hael then allowed himself to relax a little and looked at the crowd watching from the observation seats in the amphitheater. His parents were trying to look happy for him, but he could tell they were worried about Bral. Lucan was not present, as he had been sent to support the Northern Campaign a few months previously. By all accounts he was doing well and had already been promoted from the Ga to Ja, Junior Lieutenant to Senior Lieutenant.

  All those ranked One to Ten would be able to start using the Ga title after Hael was presented to the Emperor and he symbolically commissioned them all through Hael. The rest of the graduates would be assigned to other positions in the Imperial Army, mostly as troopers; however, some of the more highly ranked graduates could find themselves on a fast track to becoming officers, if they performed well in the field.

  Hael himself was hoping to shortly become Ja Hael and then Fa Hael and so on. In the Campaigns, field promotions could progress you through the ranks much more quickly than a strategic position in the City would. Based on the news that trickled into the City, it appeared that Feral aggression was on the upswing, meaning that there would be many opportunities to prove himself.

  After the last of the former Academics had been presented with his new sword, Mi Donta and Mi Zabab led Hael out of the amphitheater and to a waiting palanquin that would take him to the Emperor’s palace.

  The red and gold palanquin that would be transporting Hael to the Palace was flanked by two lit braziers, which provided the only light in the dark interior courtyard that housed the Academy’s vehicles. The palanquin was relatively modest; the amount of gilt and decoration would typically indicate that the owner was a Captain in the Military. The sigil on the door was a single sheathed sword, the Academy’s seal. The dancing shadows cast by the braziers’ flames hid the Academy’s other two palanquins. Hael had seen them before, on the rare occasion that he had witnessed one of the Marshals leave the Academy. They put the palanquin in which he would be travelling to the Palace to shame. This did not matter at all to Hael; he had never travelled in a palanquin before, and any covered chair was a luxury to him. Needless to say, the relatively humble nature of his vehicle meant that his journey through the Imperial Quarter would be a drawn out affair, as his bearers would need to give way to just about every other vehicle in the hub of the Empire’s power. He expected that the Marshals would leave long after he did and still arrive at the Palace before he did.