Eyes of the Watchers (Codex Grigori Book 1)

by Howe, Jennifer

  Eyes

  of the

  Watchers

  Jennifer Howe

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious; any resemblance to persons living or dead or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Felix Diroma

  samurairyu.deviantart.com

  ISBN: 978-1-935691-21-1

  Eyes of the Watchers

  Copyright  2011 by Jennifer Howe

  To good friends,

  The greatest gift of the creator,

  In good times and bad.

  Codex of the Watchers

  Entry I -Eyes of the Watchers

  Entry II -Tears of a Demon

  Entry III -Soul of a Child*

  Entry IV -Hearts of Men*

  Entry V -Grace of the Angels*

  Entry VI -Hands of the Fallen*

  Entry VII -Pride of a Mortal*

  Entry VIII -Love of God*

  * Yet to be Entered

  Foreword

  “And it was then that the sons of God, those heavenly watchers of man, saw that the daughters of men were fair and they took them as wives for themselves.”

  -Genesis 6.2

  There are an unknown number of Grigori left in the world, each with their own specialty. They do not age, they do not feel hunger as humans do but they are cursed. This is as their prison, they will never leave it voluntarily until the end of days where they too shall be judged. Despite this, they are still angels. Within them lies the potential of all angels, to be bastions of grace or archons of darkness.

  The choice is theirs.”

  -Julianus Enochian, Codex Grigori

  Chapter 1

  My name is Variel. I am one of the Watchers placed on this Earth to observe humanity, one of those that failed in our duty. Our crime was to love humans more than our Father, our punishment, to be cast down and live on as those around us grow old and die. We live in constant battle against evil yet know only oblivion if we fall. Our only hope is that on one day, the final day, those of us who survive will receive forgiveness. But this story is not about us, it is about that which has always been our greatest weakness.

  A young woman living in a world altogether foreign to us, Julia, would seem quite unremarkable to most humans. Long brown hair and a somewhat pretty face with pale skin, she never wanted to be a cheerleader or valedictorian. Only sixteen years old and already thoroughly bored of high school, she often dreamed of far off places. She was a lonely girl, even in the middle of a crowd. She just wanted to be happy, wanted to feel useful to somebody. Sometimes she just wanted to feel anything at all.

  Her family was full of perfectly normal people. Her father sold insurance and played golf. Her mother had died when she was young so she knew little about her but Julia still wore the old Celtic cross she gave her. Years later, her father remarried. Her stepmother was a kind and pleasant woman and they were happy. Saturdays saw her younger half-brother playing soccer and listening to the classic rock their father played on an old cassette while he tinkered under the hood of a ’67 Ford Mustang. They resided in the suburbs outside of Denver, a distinctly average house amidst hundreds that looked just like it.

  That was her old life, a time before she met me.

  Today is Friday and the most important day in her life but not for the reasons she thinks. Earlier in the week, Derrick Hitchens asked her to go to a concert. He was an athlete, well-liked by many of the girls, and a Senior. She hadn’t expected him to speak to her, let alone ask her out. Yet he did, with minimal stammering and a cute smile. She wore a purple halter top and a black skirt with a small bag to match. She had even gone to the mall and found the perfect shoes to go with everything. He arrived in his new Tundra pickup and they headed for the Arena, the same location that the Led Zeppelin played their first American concert. Of course the two of them were there to see a contemporary band that appeared no different from twenty others. The music was hardly important to either of them.

  The evening progressed as to be expected with both enjoying themselves immensely. They returned to his truck and headed out. It was here that Julia began to sense that something was amiss. Derrick’s smile had an unusual quality about it, almost like he knew something that she didn’t. Her trepidation increased when he took a turn that didn’t lead back to the suburbs. Before long they were in an old abandoned industrial park with broken street lights and sirens in the distance. He parked the truck and turned off the engine.

  “Why are we stopping here?” She was genuinely confused. “We need to get back to the freeway.”

  “That’s only if we want this night to end.” He leaned over and kissed her neck.

  “Really Derrick, I’m not comfortable here. This place looks dangerous.”

  “Aw don’t worry, babe. I’ll protect you.” He deftly placed a hand on her thigh.

  “Derrick, no,” she pushed him back. ”You’re moving too fast. We barely know each other.”

  “What’s there to know? Come on, I know you like this kind of thing.” He sent his hand further up.

  She was shocked and struggling against this unfamiliar sensation, “What are you talking about?”

  He moved back a little “Brian told me all about you, and what a little freak you are.”

  “Who’s Brian?”

  “Hah! You don’t even remember his name?” Derrick’s smile was all the more alarming. “I guess you really do get around. Glad it’s my turn.”

  “How can you think I’m…” she didn’t have the words.

  “Come on babe, dressing like that tells me you want it.”

  She fumbled with the door handle as he became more aggressive in his advance. Once she got it open, she got a foot out before he grabbed her arm painfully.

  “Where you goin bitch? We’re not done here yet.” His tone was more forceful than before.

  “Yes we are,” she said with finality, hitting him with her bag square in the face as hard as she could.

  Something solid must have connected because his cute face had blood on it and he let go of her arm. She fell to the ground. Cursing as he started up his engine, he left her there. Alone. She looked around at the empty street and leaned on one of the functioning lampposts. It was unsettling to see no people around, even more so after what she had been through, but she was also glad no one was there. She slid lower against it as tears began to flow down her face.

  Derrick’s true nature really affected her. She thought he really cared about her. He had seemed so different, so normal. The thought that maybe he was normal and that somehow she was to blame for leading him on crept into her mind. She looked down at her outfit, maybe he was right. Amidst her feelings of guilt and revulsion, she didn’t notice a shadow moving until it was uncomfortably close.

  She turned toward the motion and realized it was a man in his forties, covered in rags and dirt with a leathery face completed by a gap-toothed smile. That same smile. She stood up and began backing away. Reaching into her bag she pulled out her cell and tried to dial but it wasn’t working. When she looked down, she saw that it was broken. Derrick. She had hit him with her bag too hard.

  She searched the area as she retreated, looking for anything that could be of use. She bumped into a pair of trash cans and slipped. She fell into something wet that smelled of urine and quickly scrambled back to her feet. A sound alerted her to another dirty man who had been lying next to the cans. This could not be happening. She tried to run but broke one of the heals on her new shoes, skinning her knee when she hit the ground and slowing her down. She forced herself back up and turned down what she thought was another street but
instead ended abruptly with a chain-link fence too tall for her to climb. She looked behind her and saw the two men blocking her only escape.

  Her tears intensified until she heard something she didn’t expect. It was a voice, soft and gentle yet clearly troubled.

  “Help me,” it said.

  She looked around but saw no-one other than the men who didn’t seem to have heard it.

  “Please? I’m hurt and they’re coming for me,” it pleaded.

  Despite her own problems and knowing that she was in no condition to help anyone, she still said, “yes.”

  Something impacted with her and threw her body against the fence. She collapsed to the ground. Upon rising she could see fear and confusion in the men’s eyes but had the overwhelming sensation that they were not why she needed to get out of there fast. While it no longer spoke to her, she could feel the voice’s essence within her. It was warm and bright and urging her to escape anyway she could.

  She looked at the world with new eyes that saw details she had never noticed before: moths flying around an orange light above a door across the street at the end of an alley, a rat hiding from the noisy humans in a rubbish pile, and a hole in the chain-link behind a discarded piece of carpet just big enough for her to fit through. She wasted no time in crawling through it.

  The men had renewed their pursuit and were closing in on the fence. Just then, something made her stop and watch them. One hit the ground hard for no apparent reason and the other stopped to see what had happened. She blinked. Sitting on top of the fallen man was a dark creature with overly long arms. It was large and muscular with more teeth than she could count and disjointed bones allowing it to flail its limbs in unnatural ways as it tore the man apart with its claws. The other vagrant pressed himself to the wall in terror. It turned to him with eyes that began to glow red. He tried to run but the beast caught him and with one bite removed his head, crunching loudly.

  Julia remained perfectly still, holding her breath after exhaling. The creature began to slowly pull bits of gore from the fresh kill and place them on its body where they would remain but drip forming small red pools on the street. Within moments, the fleshy masses would turn black and become indistinguishable from the creature itself before it slapped on another piece. The air was heavy with malicious intent as it continued its grisly task. The moments that passed felt like an eternity. She couldn’t help it.

  She inhaled.

  It abruptly stopped what it was doing.

  Chapter 2

  Chuck Peterson grew up in Wichita and had been driving large rigs for seven years. He was a tall man of thirty-two years with a short beard and a jovial personality. His wife, Priscilla, was normally right there with him hauling loads across the nation. This lonely night she was back in Kansas giving birth to their first child. He would have given anything to be there but times were rough. Hospital bills needed to be paid, and if there was one thing his father had taught him it was that a man pays his way in this life or the next.

  This job had been a special assignment. He didn’t know what the cargo was, but it needed to be delivered to a part of Denver he had never been to before. He didn’t really care about the details. He just needed the money.

  He got lost. Wandering through a shady part of town, he was passed by a flashy white pickup truck that must have been in a hurry. He stopped at the next gas station, and after mulling it over, asked the attendant for directions. It was something his pride normally wouldn’t let him do, but he wanted to get home as quickly as possible. He removed his bright orange baseball cap and wiped his forehead before replacing it, then climbed back into his seat.

  He hurried to turn his semi around to head in the right direction. It was almost a strait line to the drop off point with stop signs for drivers coming in from the side streets. Coupled with the complete absence of traffic at this time of night, he risked going a higher speed than he normally would have.

  * * *

  The creature lifted its head with incredible speed and stared right into her eyes. The whole world was silent. Its face was almost like a human skull of pitch black with barbed features. Hooked fangs lined its gaping maw, now open to receive more visceral matter. Rows of spines emerged from taught skin across its hideous figure. A large, hunched torso connected to ape-like arms of a disturbing length.

  It swallowed a piece of something she’d rather not think about before racing her direction in a broken gait. She took off as fast as she could, glancing back only long enough to see it vault the fence with ease. When rounding the corner she could hear its snarling mouth snapping.

  The creature overshot the turn and slid into the street. There a passing semi crashed into it. Julia paused to see the devastation as the vehicle exploded and she ducked when a piece of debris came close. Something metal still cut a thin gash on her forehead.

  She caught her breath but her new instincts were telling her to keep running. Within the flaming wreckage, a long black arm twitched. She backed away in disbelief. Unearthly laughter permeated the air. An orange cap burned on the pavement, its owner lost to the flames.

  The beast threw off the remaining bulk of the vehicle and leered at her with a hideous smile and eyes of smoldering crimson. It straightened to its full height, bones cracking back into place. Despair and shear terror immobilized her. She remembered what it did to those men. This thing was faster than her, stronger, and now, indestructible. It was hopeless.

  She sank to her knees in exhaustion. This wasn’t how she imagined she would die. She hadn’t given it much thought before so she didn’t know what she expected. Dear God, please don’t let it end like this.

  It stepped out from the flames.

  She got to her feet and gripped the Celtic cross on her necklace. The voice was silently weeping. She stared right back at the beast through wet eyes. Her abject acceptance seemed to confuse the beast for a moment, but only for a moment. It leapt at her with its maw agape.

  Before it could reach her, another dark shape the size of a man struck the beast’s head into the ground with such force that it crushed the pavement leaving a wide crater and cracks that reached across the street, making a lamp-post topple to the ground with sparks. Not wasting this opportunity, she ran and kept running as their forms danced in the flickering light.

  As fast as she was going, it was her mind that was truly racing to comprehend what was happening. She came to a gas station and stopped for few moments. The attendant startled her when he asked if she was alright. She moved away and didn’t answer him. She wasn’t about to trust anyone she didn’t know, not yet after everything she had just experienced. She left at a more even pace. After several blocks, she paused, looking back the way she had come. The night was silent. She found a bench and sat down, examining her scraped knee and trying to get her bearings. Nothing was familiar.

  She was lost. She gazed into the sky and saw the bright full moon. She thought back to a week when her science teacher had tried to impart something about the positions of the sun and moon to a classroom of bored students. She had always liked the moon. It was peaceful.

  Hoping that it would have been lower in the sky in the same direction the sun sets so she could tell which direction was West, she was disappointed. It hung only slightly off from directly overhead. She also realized that without knowing the time it was useless.

  A city bus pulled up and stopped. After a pause, she climbed up the steps to get in. While the driver waited, Julia fumbled around but found that she had no change. She had dropped her bag somewhere along the way. Sensing her dismay, the old man motioned for her to get in anyway. He even asked where she was going and radioed for a transfer at the terminal. She thanked him and got into the first seat.

  She returned home early the next morning, wet, bloody, and exhausted. Picking up a clay vase on the porch, she removed the spare key. After unlocking the front door, she replaced it. She crept slowly towards her room. As she passed by the kitchen, she saw her father sleeping in a chair nea
r the phone with a stack of paperwork on the desk for a pillow.

  She made her way to her room, and after carefully closing the door, she removed her dirty clothes and limped over to the hamper. She wanted to take a shower so bad but she couldn’t risk waking anyone up. She looked at herself in the mirror and cried, trying to make sense of the night.

  Now that she was home and safe again, it didn’t seem real anymore. Could she have imagined all of it? Maybe Derrick slipped something into her drink, and she hallucinated. Was this what it was like to get high? She had heard of “bad acid trips” but nothing like this. She wiped her eyes and looked to the thin gash on her forehead. No. The dried blood was real. It was all real and that scared her more than she wanted to admit to herself.

  She knew that if she told anyone, they would think she was messing with them or outright insane. While her eyes were still moist, she had no more tears that night; she had run out. She put on her large Broncos T-shirt and forced her aching body into bed. At least it was over. At least she wouldn’t have to face the truth for a little while longer.

  Monsters were real.

  They were out there.

  Waiting.

  * * *

  Outside her window. Across her yard. In the middle of the street. A dark figure stood, watching her. The sky was clear with the full moon illuminating the rows of identical houses. On the horizon, a storm was brewing.

  After a few more moments, I limped away into the night.

  Chapter 3

  Officer Jeffrey Collins and his partner Will were responding to a report of a domestic disturbance. The night air came in cool from the windows as buildings and lights passed by. They exited their cruiser outside a run down building but couldn’t hear any of the shouting that characterized these calls. Flashlights at the ready, they checked the main door and found it open.