SACRIFICES
Alan D. Jones
A RISING SUN GROUP PUBLICATION
www.AlanDJones.com
Atlanta, Georgia, USA
SACRIFICES
By Alan D. Jones
Rising Sun Group Publishing
Copyright © 2013 Alan D. Jones
ISBN-13: 978-0-9666679-6-7
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013914421
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Cover Image: Mshindo
Editing Services: Wilma Jenkins, Cynthia Coles and Michele Barard
Interior Page Layout & Design: Abena Muhammad for DetailsCount
Front & Back Cover Design: Abena Muhammad for DetailsCount
Thanks to the following whose support and understanding helped to bring this work to life:
Anika A. Jones
Lesley “Tafiti” Grady
Wilma Jenkins
Joshua Dickson
Eva Bird
“It’s all energy…
our thoughts, our time and our tears… all of it.”
Genesis 6:4
The Nephilim were on the earth at that time (and also immediately afterward), when those divine beings were having sexual relations with those human women, who gave birth to children for them. These children became the heroes and legendary figures of ancient times.
International Standard Version 2012
“One to guide, one to create, one to protect, and one to destroy … and a child to tell the story.”
“Everything has a price.
The universe is resolved in this.”
Chapter: Prologue
Do not walk with anger, for this is the path to ruin. Nor sleep with anger, for it is the death of dreams. Neither sow anger, lest you reap a harvest of destruction.
October, 1980
Gasping and wounded, Rob rambled through the thicket towards the highway a mile away, his attackers still in pursuit. He’d played this game with them many times before. Today, no longer young, as he’d been for hundreds of years, his moves were not as sharp as they once were and his sight not as clear.
A dark voice that seemed to come from every direction whispered, “Why do you run Rob? You know your time has come.”
It was Matasis, the leader of the Council of Nob. He was the shape-shifting, spell-casting demon from Hell with awful breath. Rob looked up just in time to see the demon close his eyes as he released a deadly bolt of ethereal energy. The bolt passed Rob’s head. As he spun, Rob raised his hand toward his opponents. As he did, the ground rose to form a ten-foot barrier. It wouldn’t stop his enemy but, perhaps, could gain him another two or three seconds lead time. Maybe it would be enough time for him to find the nearest underground passage. Or, maybe not. A rocket-launched grenade went off not fifteen feet away from Rob knocking him off his feet and stunning him. Lying on his back, Rob lifted a hand again toward this aerial combatant and fire erupted from his fingertips.
His second opponent, Destry, dodged the flames and hovered above him laughing, “You’re losing your timing, old man.”
Rob, stumbling to his feet and raising his arms and spreading them wide, exclaimed, “That may be, but my aim need not be true all the time.”
At Rob’s command, a mighty wind disturbed the trees and rushed towards Destry driving him and his warhorse into the bristling foliage. The wind swirled down and around Rob forming a mini tornado. This would have been a formidable barrier for most attackers, but not for his third attacker, Chase the Saint Killer. The pale, thin and intangible assassin easily walked through the rumbling debris towards Rob. From ten feet away, Chase cast two glowing green globes from his hands which affixed themselves to Rob’s left and right wrists holding them fast. Chase smiled. He knew that this time, at last, they had their prey. The Council had been trying for generations to destroy Rob, a former Circle Knight. Now that he was no longer under the knight’s protection and had grown old, they’d finally succeeded.
Rob struggled to no avail against the glowing green bands that held him aloft. The bands not only bound him. They also prevented him from opening the ground beneath him as he had done the last time these villains had him cornered. As the winds he’d stirred died down, he could see Matasis the Deformer stepping through the thicket.
“Ah, Matasis, where are the others? Did they not think enough of me to attend my party?”
Matasis gave a mock sigh, “Oh, I’m sure they are rushing to be here even now, but I think they’re going to be too late.”
Unlike the rest of his troop, Destry was not in a good mood. He rushed towards Rob yelling, “That little wind storm of yours damaged my chariot!”
Rob smiled, “What? You don’t have that death machine insured?”
Enraged, Destry pulled a weapon from his waist and pointed it at Rob, but Chase pushed his comrade’s arm aside telling him, “Relax. I landed the telling move. The death strike belongs to me.”
“I guess I should be flattered by your bickering, but…,” Rob quipped.
The dead-eyed Chase, seldom one to respond to banter, extracted his sword and moved towards Rob.
Chase had not taken two steps before Matasis, the self-proclaimed destroyer of dreams and lord of chaos, stepped between Rob and him, “Hold on. This day has been so long in coming. Let us savor it just a bit more.”
He then turned towards his captured foe, “I’ve always wondered. How is it that you’re an outcast among the Circle Knights and yet hunted by our side as well?”
Rob smiled, “Guess I just got a knack for pissing people off. It’s a gift really.”
“Not a healthy one,” Destry remarked.
“No,” Rob agreed, “but, then again, on the bright side, I won’t have to see any of your ugly mugs again. Or smell Matasis’ breath for that matter.
“You can take on all manner of form but every one of them has terrible breath. Can’t you do something about that? Hey, there’s a mint in my front left pocket. Take it, please.”
Matasis said nothing. Instead, he lifted his right hand towards Rob, closed his eyes and unleashed another wave of ethereal energy that caused Rob’s body to writhe in pain. Rob cried out. Then, oddly, he began to laugh as he reflected on the course of his own life.
“Abandoned by my own and surrounded by mortal enemies with my arms bound and stretched out. Many endings I had imagined, but not this one.”
Seeing Matasis turn away, Chase took another step towards Rob, but this time it was Destry who halted the assassin.
Destry, noticing the gray hair now in Rob’s head for the first time, couldn’t help but ask, “How did you lose your immortality?”
Rob, now barely able to lift his head, replied simply “Immortality?” He smiled one last time.
Matasis motioned to Chase to proceed. Blade in hand, Chase launched himself into the air towards Rob. His sword punctured Rob’s chest and lower abdomen and blood began to flow to the ground.
Just as Chase finished wiping his blade, a light appeared in the darkness and through it stepped the stunning Elisa the Enchantress. Looking up, she saw Rob suspended several feet off the ground. She froze for a heartbeat and instinctively grabbed her left arm with her right hand as though to scratch it.
“What’s wrong, my lady?” Matasis i
nquired of the pensive-looking woman.
“This one was mine. You were supposed wait for the rest of us to arrive.”
“No need, my lady. His head will still fit just as well on your mantle,” Matasis answered.
A now jovial Destry interjected, “What he means is that he got tired of hearing Rob’s lip.”
A nearly unconscious Rob smiled, but most his words were inaudible as he gurgled on his own blood.
Elisa, a mind reader, knew well what he was trying to say. Rob’s last words were, “For the days to come.”
“Release him,” Elisa said.
Chase obliged as Elisa ascended into air and floated towards the nearly lifeless Rob. Taking his body from the air, she lowered him slowly to the ground as she whispered in his ear. Elisa then stood and turned towards the others, “Okay, let’s go.”
“What about him?” Matasis asked Elisa gesturing towards Rob’s limp body.
Elisa stood still, indecisive for a moment as if she were choosing between two equally lovely floral arrangements. She replied, “Put him in the cooler for now. I’ll deal with him after we finish the portal.”
Matasis grinned a devilish smile, “Now, that sounds like a plan.”