The Eternal Menace

© 2016 by Robert S. Gill

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  There’s a slippery beam we walk on every moment we breathe. Over our left shoulder, evil taunts us with its empty promises. Over our right shoulder, good whispers hopeful wishes. At times we lose balance, slipping into the wrong choice. When we struggle to recognize our right from our left, we face an enemy we can’t beat …

  THE ETERNAL MENACE

  A NEW GENESIS

 

  Robert S. Gill

  CONTENTS

  COPYRIGHT

  TITLE

  CHAPTER 1: THE MEDALLION

  CHAPTER 2: AWAY TO MOUNT EMBOR

  CHAPTER 3: FROM THE PAST

  CHAPTER 4: BLUE

  CHAPTER 5: PINK

  CHAPTER 6: EGGPLANT

  1

  THE MEDALLION

  The moon cast its bright, white gaze over a vast land where a simple ranch lay lonesome. Any other night this ranch wouldn’t make a sound. But on this night, the chickens tried to break from their coops and the horses assaulted the stables.

  Dirt mashed and collected on the bottoms of boots pounding the ground. Holding pistols and submachine guns, an army marched up the tiring hills leading to the ranch.

  Vicious stallions pulled a carriage amongst the soldiers. Inside sat a man. Though concealed by shadow, the whites of his predatory glare stood out.

  At the top of the hills, the first building in sight was the main house. Inside the basement, a Caucasian man leaned over the armrest of a tattered loveseat, peeking under a young woman’s dress while her right foot rested on top of one of the back cushions and the heel of her left foot rested on the floor. “Push, young girl, push,” he urged the girl as she screamed at the top of her lungs, her dark hair soaked and her bronze skin glistening from excessive sweat.

  A newborn baby cried just as loud, lying on a dusty dresser right by her head.

  The man brushed his brittle, gray hair away from his face and then looked up as if someone had suddenly approached from behind. “They’re here,” he said in a shallow breath. “Stay silent. You don’t want him to hear you.”

  “I can’t stay silent!” she moaned, with her brown eyes squinted and her thin lips puckered, taking deep breaths in and out.

  “This is the worse timing. Don’t worry, I’ll handle them,” he said to her right before he ran up a short flight of stairs. He bolted out of the basement through a secret door in the floorboard. He shut the door and pulled a large rug, with a table on top of it, over the door.

  The man didn’t sweat or shake at all. He knew they would find him. He also knew he had to be brave, whether he was ready or not. But when he crept over to the curtains and opened the center slit just enough to allow one of his eyes to examine the front yard, his heart began palpitating.

  He wondered where his foe had even found these soulless, scowling killers in tattered casual wear.

  “Stop,” came a shout from the carriage. The leader stepped out onto the crisp lawn. The soldiers spread apart as he made his way to the front of the pack.

  A silhouette was all the old man saw. The long ears that pointed outwards like knives confirmed the leader’s identity as he stopped about twenty feet from the door. He lifted his right hand with his index finger and thumb close together. A small, bright light formed between the tips, about two millimeters in mass. He took the index finger and flicked the tiny ball of light toward the door.

  The door exploded upon impact. Luckily the old man ducked for cover as soon as he recognized the attack. He got up and ran to the center of the room as a thin cloud of smoke rushed in from the doorway. He planted his right foot to the rear in a firm battle stance. Then he said under his breath, “Come in and get killed if you want to.”

  The leader pointed to four soldiers and signaled for them to blitz the abode.

  The soldiers charged through the doorway. They started attacking with kicks and punches. The old man dodged their attacks and countered with hooks to the jaws, jabs to the stomachs, and uppercuts that sent the soldiers flying around the room.

  They all fell unconscious as fourteen more soldiers burst through the windows and rushed through the doorway. In unison, they fired their weapons at the target. The old man ran to a counter in the kitchen area and jumped behind it. For a few seconds, rapid fire ripped through the furniture and walls.

  One of the soldiers inched toward the kitchen with his gun angled for a nice blind shot. He opened fire behind the counter, but when he checked to claim his prized kill, his prize was gone.

  From the opposite corner of the room, the old man started attacking the soldiers. Gunfire went blazing all over the house as he dodged the bullets, moving with lightning quickness to strike his enemies.

  In the basement, the girl covered the baby’s mouth as well as her own and flinched as a few of the bullets ripped through the basement and missed them by inches.

  Outside, the leader watched the flickering gunfire excite the living room. He waved for more soldiers to rush in.

  Doing flips off of the walls and over furniture, the old man’s movement prevented the soldiers from aiming a direct hit at him. One of the soldiers took a hit in the back from friendly fire. The injured soldier grimaced while he dropped to one knee and then fell to the ground. The soldier that shot him ran to his side as the old man continued to beat the snot out of the others.

  As more troops poured through the door to surround him, the old fighter placed himself in front of them all. He opened his palms, brought his elbows back, lifted his left knee, and then slammed his foot on the ground and pushed the air with his palms.

  A powerful burst of energy obliterated his entire front wall. It also sent all of the troops that were in the house on a free flight to another country.

  The leader and the remaining soldiers braced and protected themselves from the debris until they could only watch the defeated soldiers get carried away.

  The vibrations from the blast shook the whole house. Dust and dirt fell from the basement ceiling. “Shhhh. Please,” the girl whispered as the baby’s muffled cries grew louder.

  Upstairs, the fighter relaxed a bit. But to his misfortune, he noticed that the table and rug covering the trap door had went out with the soldiers. It was too late to try and cover it again since the army leader had stepped through the gape.

  As the light hit his smooth, green skin, his fine, thin, translucent fur shifted with the night breeze. He wore a green camouflage uniform with black stripes, with the sleeves torn off at the shoulders, and large dark-red stains leaked from the tears. His eyes pierced the old man’s. “Where is she?” the leader asked.

  “She’s with Goopa. You can’t steal her away from him.”

  “Do you really believe that? Besides, I’ve already been to the mountain, so give me what I came here for!”

  “You’ll never have the girl,” the fighter roared.

  “You know it’s not the girl I want.” He raised his hand. “We can do this the easy way, Master Otem, and you show my troops where to find her, or I could destroy this whole ranch. That includes you and those two distractions.”

  “Do what you must, Kizm. She’s not here.” Otem’s eyes never gave into Kizm’s. The silence in the room sent chills down the soldiers’ backs. They’d heard stories about Kizm’s days training under Otem and they knew that if a fight broke out the power of their physical energies alone would crush every lowl
y soldier in that room.

  “So be it.” Kizm pointed all over the ranch and shouted, “Find the girl and torch the place!”

  The troops scattered all over the ranch, searching and wrecking any area they found. A few soldiers stayed inside and searched the rooms of the house. One of the soldiers began tossing furniture around, looking for hiding places. The trap door was built to blend in with the floor pattern. It was difficult to see with the naked eye. All Otem could do was hope that no one would notice it.

  “I can tell you’re getting scared,” Otem said to Kizm.

  “Master Otem, I’m far from scared. But I do feel that I should get rid of any threat that stands in my way. Now I’ll tell you once again, either tell me where the girl is or suffer the consequences.”

  Otem raised his knee and brought his elbows back to do another wave.

  In two quick leaps, Kizm grasped Otem’s throat and lifted him off of the ground. “I won’t play this game with you. You’ll force me to have to snap your neck!” Kizm grit his teeth as he spat out his words.

  Otem began slipping away into unconsciousness as burbles seeped from his throat. Then … THUMP THUMP THOOM overpowered the whooshing sound in his ears.

  “I found something,” a soldier yelled.

  Kizm dropped Otem and approached the soldier. Otem gasped for air on his knees. The soldier removed his foot from the spot on the floor he had just stomped and then pried around the floorboard with a knife until he managed to open the trap door. Kizm took the lead down the stairs.

  One of the most important lessons Kizm learned from Otem and his other teachers was the art of making an enemy feel overconfident, so every step had to be a cautious one, since a booby-trap could end the search in any second. His eyes scanned the room; they immediately locked onto the loveseat.

  “He still has this raggedy thing?” Kizm spent so many nights sleeping on that couch when it was on Mount Embor. It even still had the huge K he cut into the center back cushion. But this was no time for nostalgia. Everything in the room, from dusty chests to dusty dressers had no signs of prints or any tampering. Even so, he ordered the soldier to search everything.

  Kizm made his way to the short hallway ahead. He kicked open the first door on the right. A bathroom. He kicked open the door to the left. A shabby room stacked full with farming magazines. Only two doors left. Kick. Kick. Nothing useful in either room, not even a touch of suspicious hiding spots.

  Kizm turned to walk away when his heart skipped a beat. The far wall. The far wall had something. He could feel a presence but the feeling would fade in and out. But it was just a wall? “That vent,” he whispered. Without hesitation, he went to the wall and ripped the human-sized vent cover out. He bent over to peer inside and smiled.

  Sweat beaded down the girl’s washed-out face. “You found me,” she exhaled in a faint breath. Only the vent walls and her scrunched position prevented her from falling over.

  “I sure did. Now come with me. I’ll show you to your new home.”

  “There’s nothing here, sir,” the soldier announced.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Kizm answered. “This will be good enough.” He extended his hand to the girl. “Are you ready?”

  “No,” she breathed.

  Kizm’s eyebrows scrunched together. “No?”

  “No,” she breathed a little louder. Then a faint moan caught their attention. The girl’s eyes widened. Kizm scoffed at her and then slammed the vent cover back in place. “Nooooo,” she screamed.

  The moan was never-ending. It came from one of the rooms. He stepped toward the bathroom, where the sound grew louder. He lifted the toilet seat. Nothing was there, not even water. As he lifted the top off of the back of the toilet, the moans became cries. He gently grabbed the baby, gazing into its eyes. This was all he needed. No need to stick around.

  “Let’s go,” said Kizm. The soldier followed him up the stairs. “Look what I found,” he boasted, dangling the baby like a brand new toy as he passed by Otem.

  The old man stared at the baby and exhaled, “No.”

  Kizm exited through the giant gape and shouted, “Burn it all!” His soldiers left the house and grabbed a bunch of torches from the carriage.

  It took soldiers lighting and throwing torches into the house to break Otem from his helpless daze. He got up and charged at the soldiers. Then some kind of energy ripped a small hole through his right shoulder and blasted him backwards, causing him to roll across the room.

  With two fingers pointed in Otem’s direction, Kizm lowered his hand and shouted, “Let’s go! We’ve been here too long.” The last torch bearer tossed his flame through the gape. The rug ignited. All of the soldiers surrounded the carriage with quickness as it turned around, and the small army went away like nothing had happened.

  Otem ignored the inferno in his shoulder, picked himself up, and staggered to the basement before the inferno around him could consume them both.

  He rushed to the girl, who was lying halfway out of the vent motionless. He cradled her and then took her upstairs.

  Flames covered every direction. He could hear the roof cracking, so he escaped through the gape just in time to avoid its collapse.

  He took her far away from the fire and placed her on the ground. By this time, the baby was ready to slide out. Otem continued where he’d left off, urging her to push, but the young woman could barely stay conscious. Finally, after twelve more minutes of labor pains, the girl’s first son was born. With nothing around to use, Otem removed his shirt to wrap the baby in. The girl gave a slight smile right before falling unresponsive.

  Otem placed the baby on the ground. He placed two fingers where the woman’s neck met her collarbone. He didn’t feel anything, so he took the other hand and held her left wrist while also putting his ear to her chest. After about half a minute he looked at the girl and sighed. “Get your rest,” he said. “It’s been a long eight days.” Otem picked up the baby and sat to watch his home burn.

  As the years passed by, Otem and the girl raised the boy. Together, they spent countless days rebuilding the ranch piece by piece with the help of people who lived in the town less than a mile away.

  Four years after the ranch burned, the boy’s mother was stricken by a mysterious illness. Neither medicine nor magic could heal her body. Otem and the boy sat by her side for two months talking, smiling, and acting like nothing was wrong, even though her son was too young to understand. One day she opened her mouth and nothing came out. The boy sat by her deathbed, still expecting her to speak. Otem took him by the hand and led him out of the room.

  Seven years after that …

  No threats had come about since the ranch was destroyed. The town nearby had grown a bit. Everyone had a satellite dish decorating the bountiful gardens in their backyards. The ranch was bigger, with more cows, goats, horses, and pigs. The chicken coop sat to the right side of the house. The barns, pig pen, and everything else were in rows behind the house, instead of spread out. They didn’t live in the middle of nowhere, but it was pretty close; surrounded by green hills, large acres of flat land, and woods in the distance. The ranch and the town were isolated from most of the South African civilization, with a dirt road that led from the left side of the house, down through the town, and out to wherever a person dreamt to travel.

  The boy had grown to be healthy and energetic. He performed his favorite activity: chasing the chickens around—even though he was a constant failure at the task. He dove for one of the chickens and landed flat on his face. Dirt colored the front of his dark, wild, bushy hair. “Get back here!” Empty handed, he picked himself up and brushed off the dirt that matched his skin.

  “Kwon,” a voice yelled to him. He turned around to see Otem’s top half poking out of the front doorway. “Hurry and get those chickens put up. Supper will be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Okay,” Kwon shouted back, pulled his pants up, and focused on his targets. “Playtime is over. It’s time for you c
hickens to go back to your coop so you can lay some eggs and do whatever else you do.” He charged at the chickens one by one. With every single chicken, he fell on his face over and over again. Eventually, he just gave up like always and went in the house shaking his head.

  Otem stirred steaming pots on the stove.

  “Grandpa, I’m sorry, but I can’t do it. Those chickens are too fast.” Kwon plopped on the sofa near the entrance with a lazy dive.

  “You should’ve trained last week like I told you to,” Otem snapped. Otem told Kwon so many times not to let the chickens out if he can’t put them back on his own. Always, he had to waste time finishing what Kwon started. “Go wash up.” Otem walked to the front door. He jabbed Kwon with a look so stern it forced Kwon to turn his head to avoid eye contact. It reminded Kwon of how soft his behind has become since his head is so hard. “Don’t touch those pots until you clean your hands!”

  As soon as Otem went outside, Kwon made his way over to the stove. He had to stand on the tips of his toes just to lift the lid of one of the pots to take a peek at what was giving off that aroma of cinnamon and honey in the air. The steam smacked his forehead, which cause him to jerk back and slam the top back on the pot.

  “I thought I told you not to touch those pots until you washed your hands?” Startled, Kwon whipped his head around to see Otem standing at the door. “Now, you couldn’t have gotten cleaned up that fast.”

  Kwon frowned. “There’s no way you could’ve put those chickens in the coop that quick.”

  “Oh, really?” Otem smirked. “Go outside and look.”

  Kwon went to the door and poked his head out. No chickens were in sight. He stepped all the way out and saw that they were put away neatly in the coop. Something wasn’t right, though. He’d only been alone for about eleven seconds before his grandpa came back inside. He looked at Otem, who was whistling while he set the table for dinner. He wondered how a man who always takes hundreds of thousands of hours to set a table for two people could put the chickens away in a matter of seconds. Kwon took another bewildered look at the coop and then went back inside.

  Later that night, a half-eaten honey-glazed ham sat in the center of the dining table next to two large bowls of steamed vegetables: four-cheese broccoli and cinnamon carrots touched with sugar and melted creamy butter. Kwon inhaled his food while his attention was engulfed in one of Otem’s stories.

  “We were stuck in a cave, moments from death. The ceiling was falling apart. Large chunks of stone smashed the ground around us. We thought it was the end for sure. That is until Goopa crawled through a small opening in the wall where light peeked through. He managed to find a vine and pulled me up through an opening at the top just seconds before the cave collapsed.”

  “What happened to the bracelet?” Kwon asked.

  “The scientists got away with it. Somehow another man got a hold of it, but before he figured out how to use it, Goopa and I stole it from him. Then we put it in a safe place.”

  “I don’t get it. What was so special about a blue gemstone bracelet?”

  “It was one-of-a-kind, handcrafted by a shaman. A lot of people were after it.” Otem glanced at his wrist watch. “Well, anyway, you should be getting to bed. We’re going to visit your mother’s grave tomorrow.” Otem got up from the table.

  “Okay. Do you need help with the dishes?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Kwon got up from the table as Otem began collecting the plates. “Goodnight,” Kwon said.

  “Goodnight, Kwon.”

  Kwon went to his bedroom.

  The next morning, Kwon scurried around the house fighting to pull his shirt over his head. Otem stood outside checking his watch. “C’mon, Kwon, hurry up! We’re late,” he shouted.

  Kwon finished dressing himself and shot out the front door. “I’m ready, I’m ready. Don’t worry.” He realized that he left the door open, so he went back to close it. Two big wagons sat in front of the house. On the back of them were crates with gallon jugs of milk in them. In the front were harnesses with leather straps.

  They harnessed themselves to the wagons and started to make their way down the hills. Otem grabbed his wagon and pulled it down the hill with steady strides. Kwon, on the other hand, turned his wagon around to push it down the hill. He hopped on the edge of the wagon and held on tight as it picked up speed.

  At the bottom of the hill, on Kwon’s side, the thick grass slowed the wagon down until it stopped. As soon as he hopped off, Otem zipped past him.

  “The loser has to clean the stables,” Otem yelled.

  “Clean the stables? I can’t lose this.” Kwon turned his wagon around and started running. He repeated the same process over and over as he approached every hill until he reached the very bottom. Otem repeated his own process also, but with a quicker pace. They raced toward the town, with Kwon moving into a slight lead.

  The town roads were unpaved, and most of the houses had barely any yard area past the doorsteps. Yet, still, it looked almost like a model of a small suburban community. The houses were well-built with the best materials. The people grew their own fruits and vegetables in their backyard fields. Throughout most days, they traded food and items, along with helping each other with general tasks.

  Otem and Kwon reached the town with plenty of energy to spare. They placed milk on doorsteps, gave it to citizens who were outside as they smiled and waved, and Otem even replaced a drunk man’s gourd without him even realizing it. When the man took a swig of his drink, noticing a different taste, he looked at the jug and gave Otem a piece of his crazy, drunken ramblings.

  Non-stop, they dashed throughout town, unbuckling the harness, grabbing the milk, placing the milk in the correct place, buckling the harness again, and going to the next house. They reached the final stretch, side-by-side, with only three houses each. The process continued, unbuckling, grabbing, placing, and buckling as they drew nearer to the cemetery at the end.

  Kwon moved way ahead of Otem. He was almost at the cemetery when an old lady began to inch across the street. He stopped and waited for a few seconds. The old lady took her endless time with her itty bitty steps. Kwon noticed Otem was catching up fast, so he unbuckled his harness and nudged the old lady across the street, taking baby steps in-sync with hers. As soon as the lady was in Otem’s path, Kwon ditched her and pushed the wagon toward the cemetery.

  Otem’s head was down as he ran, so when he looked up and saw the old lady, he came to a screeching halt. She smiled and waved at him. He answered with a smile and a head nod.

  Kwon dropped to his knees, panting on the cemetery grass. A short time afterwards Otem joined Kwon. Otem’s lungs had an adequate supply of air. In fact, he didn’t even have a drop of perspiration. But since Kwon wasn’t paying attention to notice, Otem quickly dropped to one knee and breathed deep, loud breaths. “What a workout, huh? I’m so tired. Let’s go rest at your mother’s stone.” Otem slowly stood up and unbuckled his harness.

  The cemetery had six different sections. In each section were big wooden crosses that were painted different colors to represent the different families of the town. Surrounding the crosses were stones engraved with names. They both made their way over to the smallest section. They sat in front of a pink cross where a single stone had the name Jihana engraved on it. For the rest of the morning they held heavy conversations, hoping her spirit would hear.

  Elsewhere in the world, the sun twinkled on the ocean surface. Underneath it, two divers swam along the weeds, examining the dancing plant life. One of the divers swam ahead of the other. The diver stopped and waved for the other diver to come immediately. The second diver went to see what was found. When he caught up, a clear box made of thick glass, so thick that it was hard to see its contents, rested wrapped in seaweed.

  On the surface floated a boat large enough to fit the twenty-two students in diving gear that the instructor, Professor Shalmer, stood addressing in the center of their circle. “I arranged this field trip
for one reason and one reason only,” he began. “To tell you about marine life is like telling a story that no one witnesses. I could teach you what the books say, but then, what do the books really say? Who wrote them? For all we know, the people who wrote the books on marine biology probably never even discovered the world underneath on their own. They probably just listened to other people. Today I want you all to discover something. Bring back samples of what you find; whether it be plant or fish, it doesn’t matter. We’ll discuss your findings in class tomorrow. You won’t learn anything unless you explore it yourself. Now go out and have fun.”

  The students began putting on their oxygen masks. The two divers—who were his oldest students—came to the surface. “Professor,” a voice yelled from below.

  The professor leaned over the side of the boat, “What is it?”

  “We found something.” The first diver removed his goggles and mask to reveal his big blue eyes.

  About an hour passed, and the eager students waited as the boat cables pulled the glass box out of the water. Still covered with gunk and seaweed, sunlight couldn’t even penetrate the glass coffin. The professor manipulated the controls to gently place the box on the boat, but the cables snapped, sending the box crashing to the deck. The professor gasped and then rushed to the discovery. There wasn’t a crack on it.

  “Do we have something to open this with?” He looked around at his students, not knowing much about what’s onboard since the boat belonged to a fellow faculty member.

  The blue-eyed diver responded, “Yes,” and brought a big crowbar over to the box that he’d found while rummaging through a toolbox. Then he started hitting the glass box.

  The professor grabbed his wrists. “No. No. Don’t hit it! You don’t want to damage anything inside. Pry it open.” It’s a good thing the glass was too thick to damage with ease.

  The blue-eyed diver wedged the crowbar under the lid. He struggled to get the box open, but the harder he strained the more the lid loosened. His breaths became heavy as he began to give up, but he gave it one last try.

  The lid flew open. A beam of white light burst into the air. Everyone protected their eyes from the brightness until it died down a few seconds later. The blue-eyed diver stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. His breathes became rapid as he tried to open his eyes but couldn’t because they were too sensitive.

  The professor inched toward the box and peeked inside. Inside was a blue, elastic one-piece uniform. It had thin, ribbed padding (made to conform to particular muscle definition) stitched in all over; along with it were white gloves, white boots, a white belt—with empty leather sheaths going all the way around it—and a silver helmet with metal horns that went into a curvy V-shape in the front. Everything had a neat place in the box. “It seems to be some kind of outfit. I’ve never seen this design before.”

  The second diver stared off into the other direction, mystified by something far away. He asked, “Wasn’t it supposed to be clear out today?”

  “Of course,” Shalmer replied.

  “Then why is it so foggy up ahead?”

  The professor jerked his head toward him. “It shouldn’t be.”

  The professor went to the front of the boat to take a look. The blue-eyed diver managed to open his eyes, which were now gray, and even after blinking and rubbing them … “It’s all a blur. I can’t see! I can’t--” His hands fumbled around. “Professor!”

  Professor Shalmer heard his cry and went to his side. He knelt down and held the student’s hand once he realized the student was feeling for him. “I’m right here. Don’t worry, I’m here.”

  “Help me!” The student began weeping. The professor gazed into his eyes with confusion.

  “Mr. Shalmer,” the second diver shouted with urgency.

  Shalmer’s eyes didn’t leave his gray-eyed student’s. “I will, I will. Just hold on a minute.” The professor stood up just in time to see the thick, white fog smother the boat.

  “How the hell did this get here so fast?” the second diver asked, stunned. “What do we do? We might hit something out here.”

  “This is not right,” the professor said. “This shouldn’t be here. Something’s wrong.”

  A thunderous rumble startled everyone onboard. The sound of creaking wood followed the rumble. Another rumble nearly burst their eardrums. Waves whooshed against the boat as it bobbed up and down.

  The second diver squinted. “Is someone there?” he called out. Next thing he knew his neck was being twisted so hard it snapped.

  The professor heard a loud splash and became alert. He tried to see through the fog but could only see a few feet ahead. “What was that? Are you all right?” he yelled to the second diver.

  Out of the fog, a mean-looking man with teal skin and a thick, gold collar around his neck stepped in view. The collar covered his neck, and it had small hatches on each side, one of them open, releasing an endless amount of fog. Behind him followed a crew of men who walked in the forms of land animals and sea creatures.

  The mean-looking man rushed at Professor Shalmer, picked him up with ease, and threw him overboard. The rest of the crew attacked the students. Beating them, throwing a few around, stabbing them as they ran screaming and yelling.

  Meanwhile, the leader took patient steps to the glass box. He waved a circular device over it. The device let out uneven whistles as he read the numbers occupying the screen.

  When the attack stopped, two crew members lifted the glass box. The leader said to them in a booming voice, “Be careful. He wasn’t lying about how powerful the magic would be. It still has a massive amount of magic residue.” They carried it to the side of the boat.

  Just enough fog dispersed to reveal a massive ship creeping up alongside the boat, a ship so big it made the professor’s boat look like a bathtub toy. The fog carried the entire crew onto the ship. Then the fog went just as quick as it came, off into the distance, concealing the ship.

  The professor surfaced. He realized the fog was gone. He climbed the anchor chain to reach the deck. The sight he witnessed squeezed the air out of his chest. The whole class was lying scattered over the deck, a sloppy paint job of their spilled blood everywhere.

  He squinted his eyes in the direction of the gray-eyed diver’s body. He walked toward it. The student’s body trembled.

  Shalmer shook him. “Are you all right?”

  The student gasped. “Professor?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Oh, thank God. I didn’t know what to do. I heard screaming and running. Then it got quiet, so I played dead. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry … I’m sorry.”

  The professor hugged him. “It’s all right, son. There was no way you could’ve stopped this. You’ve done all right.”

  Back in Africa, Otem and Kwon pulled their wagons up the last hill going home.

  “Your mother was a strong woman, you know. She helped me rebuild the ranch after it burned down.”

  “Really? How did it burn down?”

  “Some electrical problems. The wiring was messed up.”

  “Will I have to worry about it burning down again? Because I don’t wanna wake up to a bunch of fire and smoke. I definitely don’t wanna hear you yelling,” he started imitating Otem’s aged voice, “Kwon! Do a nosedive through the window. Hurry up! Go save the chickens and the barns!”

  Otem chuckled. “I don’t sound like that.”

  Kwon smiled. “Yes you do.”

  “But that’s just because I love you and I don’t want anything to happen to you. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about the house burning down again. It’s a problem that’s been fixed.”

  “That’s good. At least now I don’t have to worry about trying to catch those chickens if the ranch catches fire. Hey, do you think you could teach me how to catch those chickens like you did?”

  Otem gave Kwon a stern look. “If you actually train like you should, then I’ll teach you. But it takes years to
master and you haven’t finished the basic techniques that I taught you.” Kwon lowered his head. “But if you practice today then I’ll teach you a little bit tomorrow.”

  Kwon lifted his head with a big dimpled smile. “Really? Are you really serious?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, I’m getting started now.” Kwon rushed up the hill.

  Otem smiled as he watched Kwon’s excitement.

  Later that afternoon, Otem shoveled horse feces and slung it onto a pile in a cart. He sighed and wiped the beading sweat from his forehead with his forearm. The slimy sounds of poo draining and slapping the ground came from multiple stalls. Otem grimaced and shook his head as the strong odor tried to beat him into submission. “C’mon, give me a break.”

  In a little area behind the chicken coop was Kwon’s training ground. He stood there staring at four heavy and light sandbags hanging from wooden poles, separated by a few feet, with the light bags hanging higher off the ground, surrounding him.

  “I see you’ve found me. But no matter how strong you think you are you won’t be able to defeat me.” He separated his feet and lifted his hands in a combat stance. “Give me your best shot,” he shouted right before he attacked the bags with punches and sloppy kicks.

  He stopped in front of one of the bags hanging high above and pointed. “You’re next,” he said. Then in a deeper voice, “You may have defeated my foot soldiers, but you can’t beat me.” In his regular voice, “Oh yeah? I bet I can beat you with one kick.” In the deep voice, “Ha, ha, try me!”

  Kwon ran and jumped to kick the sack but missed by a few feet and plummeted to the ground. Blood rushed to his head as the chickens mocked him with their arrogant struts. He pounded the ground with his hand and yelled, “What are you laughing at?” He got up and tried to grab one of the chickens but face-planted again. He picked himself up. “Go ahead and laugh while you’ve got the chance, because after tomorrow you won’t be laughing anymore.”

  Kwon stretched a bit and then climbed to the top of the coop and sat, watching the vast land. Otem came out of the second of three barns in a row pulling off his work gloves. He went to join Kwon on the coop. “Are you done?” Otem asked him.

  “I’m taking a break.”

  “Oh.”

  “Hey, grandpa, what’s it like out there? What’s the world like?”

  “Complicated. There’s more out there than you can imagine. It’s a beautiful place, but it’s also rough. It’s full of heartache, pain, trouble. The experiences that we’ll all have to go through. Y’know, when you get old enough I don’t want to keep you trapped here. I want you to go see creation just as I have. Experience life. But always remember that life is full of obstacles, and no matter how big the obstacle, you can overcome it. See, you give up way too easily. Every time something gets too hard you quit. I hate that about you.”

  “Ah-hah! So you finally admit that you hate me. I knew that love stuff was all a bunch of mind control tactics.”

  “I’m serious, Kwon. Your life is too important for you to just up and quit with ease. The moment you lose sight of that is the moment you take a dire turn. So I want you to promise me that you won’t give up.”

  “Okay,” Kwon said with no real emotion.

  “No, I want you to say it, Kwon!”

  “Okayyy, I promise. But I don’t wanna leave you alone.”

  “Trust me, I can take care of myself.” Otem hopped down. “I’m going to take a nice, hot bath and fix dinner. You keep training.”

  Otem went to check on the animals before going to the house while Kwon continued to stare at the horizon.

  Off in another part of Africa, there was a cave that had a stream flowing from it. Five soldiers stood next to horses beside the stream. The soldiers wore green camouflage uniforms with dark-purple stripes.

  Kizm arrived by air wearing a bulging backpack strapped over a dark-purple t-shirt that was so tight it showcased every muscle in his torso. He removed the backpack, tossed it to one of the soldiers and then walked through the water to meet with two old wizards in gray robes in front of the cave, who were equipped with wands; one with long, gray hair, and the other with short, blonde hair and a four-foot-long, blonde mustache that had a swag in the front before it went behind his back where it was braided.

  “Did you have any luck?” Kizm asked.

  The gray-haired wizard stepped to him and said, “Not yet. We’ve never had to break a seal this strong before. Whomever it was that cursed this cave must’ve been very powerful.”

  “This is nothing compared to what she is capable of. Do you think you can break the curse?”

  “It’s hard to say, but we do have one more spell to try.” The gray-haired wizard went and stood side-by-side with the other wizard, both facing the cave. They both put their hands together and began chanting under their breaths. The chants started getting louder, with it their skin began to glow. Simultaneously, a ball of white light formed on both their foreheads. The lights grew to about the size of basketballs. Then together they shot at the entrance, the orbs exploding once they hit the invisible seal.

  Kizm asked, “Did it work?” The gray-haired wizard shrugged his shoulders at him. Kizm waved his finger at one of his men to enter the cave.

  The soldier dashed through the water. When he got to the opening, a blast of energy knocked him off his feet. The soldier got up and ran away from the entrance.

  “That was our last spell,” the gray-haired wizard stated with a shrug. “I’m sorry, Kizm. There’s nothing more we can do.”

  Kizm approached the wizard with his eyes piercing through his old skull. “Do I have to remind you, old man, that I’ve paid you too much money for you to just walk away? Now, either break the seal or I’ll have your daughter killed.”

  Kizm snapped his fingers. A soldier pulled a cloth off of the back of one of the horses. A young girl lied face down, tied to the horse. The soldier grabbed her hair and lifted her head to reveal her face. She was unconscious with duct tape over her mouth and looked to be in her mid-twenties.

  “No!” the gray-haired wizard shouted with anguish.

  “Break the seal! You know I’ll do it.”

  “But I’m trying to tell you, there is no way. It would take several stronger wizards to break this seal. We can’t do it. It’s too powerful.”

  “There is one thing we can do,” the blonde-haired wizard chimed in. “We can reverse the curse.”

  The gray-haired wizard shook his head. “But that’s too dangerous.”

  “I know. Also once we reverse it, we will have to suffer the same agony that he’s been dealing with for the past twenty years. But we don’t have a choice, because I refuse to let anything happen to your daughter.” The blonde-haired wizard went toward the cave entrance.

  The gray-haired wizard took another look at his daughter and joined the other wizard. They both raised their hands. They began to chant. Small amounts of the seal’s energy transferred through their bodies. The small amounts got larger and larger and larger and larger. A blinding light filled the area. The soldiers covered their eyes. Kizm looked away. The light died down slowly. The two wizards fell to their knees.

  Kizm approached the blonde-haired wizard. “You. You helped me without any hesitation. That’s why I won’t let you suffer,” he said, referring to the fact that the curse hadn’t taken full effect yet. He shot him with a small, white beam using his finger. The wizard’s smoking body fell to the ground as Kizm entered the cave. Four of the soldiers followed behind while the fifth took the gray-haired wizard to his daughter, where he began kissing her head.

  Deeper they went into the pitch-black cave. A slight sound of water flowed far away. Steady drips fell on and around them. Kizm led the way as they crept through narrow passageways with a blue flame hovering inches above his palm illuminating the slick walls.

  “Stay alert for traps! A person can become very hostile after twenty years in this place,” Kizm warned.

  The sol
diers obeyed the warning until they reached a pocket. One of the soldiers in the back heard a low rumble beside him. His eyes searched the thick darkness. Suddenly, a black bear jumped out from a corner and swiped at the soldier. Its claws barely grazed the soldier as he jumped back, stumbling to the ground. Another bear drooled onto his shoulder. It stared dead into his eyes and then roared.

  The soldier stiffened. They all looked around while Kizm shined the light all over. Coming from cubbyholes, more than a dozen full-grown bears surrounded them. Kizm smiled, “He’s close by.” He took a step forward.

  “I wouldn’t take another step if I were you,” a man’s deep English accent broke through the blackness.

  “Why? Black bears aren’t vicious,” Kizm replied.

  “Mine are.” The man plunged from the ceiling and jammed a knife into a soldier’s shoulder. The soldier yelled, then the man dropped to his knees panting. His skin was pale from the lack of sunlight. His hair receded and, despite being in a cave for so long, was cut short.

  “You’re weak. What did the witch’s magic do to you, Bohr?”

  “Exactly what she wanted it to do, make me envy death. I can’t sleep. Anytime I try to eat I throw it up. She made sure that I would pay for what I’ve done.”

  “Well, now you’re free.”

  Bohr frowned, surprised but also confused. “What?”

  “Remember? No human being would be able to leave or enter the cave. My standing here is proof that the curse is broken.”

  “So what.”

  “What do you mean ‘so what’? I’ve freed you.”

  “As I recall, it’s your fault I’m in this situation in the first place. You left me behind to get captured that day, you coward!”

  Kizm sighed. “I’m sorry about that, I really am, but if I had stayed with you that day, we’d both be rotting in this cave for an eternity.”

  “Look, I know you didn’t break the curse so we could chat. You’re a user. You want me to do something for you, so tell me what it is before I sick my bears on your men.”

  “I want you to kill the Guardian Sages.”

  Bohr chuckled. “The remaining Guardians should be old men by now. You should be able to take ‘em yourself. Besides, I can’t go up against anybody like this. I haven’t been able to eat in years. My body feels like it’s dead already. Believe me, revenge sounds good, but I can’t do it.”

  “You can with this.” Kizm snapped his fingers. The soldier with the backpack took it off quickly. His movements caused one of the bears near him to growl. He took slow steps toward Bohr, keeping his eyes on the bears. He pulled out the contents of the backpack: the outfit and helmet from the glass box. The soldier placed everything in front of Bohr.

  Bohr started laughing aloud. “Help me put this on.”

  Half an hour later, Kizm, Bohr, and the soldiers exited the cave. Bohr donned a fresh pair of sunglasses. “I can feel the energy flowing through my body again.”

  “You still need nourishment, and don’t take those sunglasses off.” Kizm handed him a pouch.

  “What’s in here?” Bohr asked.

  “Medicine and the witch’s special chocolate nuggets. The chocolate should help keep your strength up until you finish. Also, there’s a communicator in there. Call me after you kill the second Guardian.”

  Bohr gave Kizm a serious look. “I appreciate you freeing me, and I will carry out my mission ‘til the end, but I still have to find someone.”

  “I know you do, but only after you finish doing this for me.”

  One of the bears came out of the cave with the white belt in its mouth. On the belt were six-inch homemade knives in all twelve of the sheaths. It nudged Bohr with its nose. He turned around. “Oh. How could I forget this?” He squatted down, received the belt, and gave the bear a gentle rub. “Do you wanna tag along for a little bit? C’mon, you can be my legs.” Bohr put the belt on and got on the bear’s back. He smirked at Kizm and said, “I’ll mess ‘em up real bad for you, boss.” He rode the bear as it walked off.

  Kizm turned to his men. “Release the wizard’s daughter and then let’s move out.”

  Night time was quiet on the ranch. Otem sat in a recliner in the living room reading a book. He put the book down on the table beside him and went down the hallway to Kwon’s room. He stood in the doorway staring at Kwon while he slept. He couldn’t keep lying. Kwon would find out the truth one day, whether he told him or not.

  The next day, Kwon sat down at the kitchen table yawning while he rubbed his eyes. Otem came in the house and went to the kitchen counter to grab a small paper bag. “Good morning, grandpa. What’s for breakfast?”

  “You mean, what’s for lunch?” He dropped the bag on the table in front of Kwon. “You woke up late.”

  Kwon looked in the bag. “Trail mix?”

  “You have to go into town to get a few things for me.”

  “Aw, man,” Kwon exhaled with disappointed.

  “Quit complaining. Plus, if you do this for me I’ll teach you how to catch those chickens when you get back.”

  “Oh, yeah. How did I forget that?” He hopped up. “Let me get my clothes on and I’m gone.” He hurried to his room saying, “That doesn’t mean that I’m happy about this.”

  Otem smiled and shook his head.

  It was time for Kwon to go into town. He tied himself to his wagon with a frown on his face. “Why do I always have to get groceries?” he griped. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and started unfolding it until it went from a small piece to a foot-long list. “Aw, man. A few things?” He shook his head and started off to town.

  About half an hour passed by. Otem stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes. He heard a faint moo, which caused him to look up just in time to see a cow walk pass the window.

  He went outside to discover over a dozen animals wandering around behind the house. Livestock getting loose wasn’t new, but so many at once was rare. It was strange, especially since Otem remembered locking them tight.

  “I guess I’ll have a small workout.” He shimmied to loosen up and stretched each limb for only a few seconds. “The chickens were nothing, but I haven’t lifted the cows or the horses in months. Let’s see if I still got it.” He pulled a stop watch out of his pocket, set it on the ground, and pressed a button on the side. “Here we go!”

  Away he jogged as the time passed three seconds, then eight … eleven … fourteen … at seventeen he stopped the clock and picked the watch up, releasing a relieved sigh. The time made him smile, then he looked to make sure all of the animals were put away. He nodded his head, “I still got it.”

  He went back around to the front and inside to continue washing. As he picked up a plate and pressed the sponge against it, he heard, “It’s been a long time, Otem.” That voice made him shiver. The plate slipped from his hand, shattering once it hit the floor.

  Otem looked over at the recliner. The tip of a balding head stuck out over the top. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “You don’t remember my voice? That disappoints me. I was sure I made a lasting impression … Master Otem. Go ahead and guess.”

  “No … No … It can’t be.” Otem inched over to the chair, then he inched around it. His eyes locked onto the visitor’s. With helmet in lap, Bohr’s stare left Otem cold and numb. “How?” Otem struggled to breathe the question.

  “How what? How is it possible that I’m in your living room sitting in your chair? Which is very comfortable, by the way.”

  “How did you get out?”

  “An old friend.”

  “Kizm?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Bohr stood up and put his helmet on. “I’m just here for payback.”

  “Think about this, Bohr.”

  “What do you mean think about it?” he snapped. “I’ve had twenty years to think about it.”

  Otem nodded and then sighed. “I guess I can’t talk you out of it then, huh? Do you mind if we take it outside? I want this house to stay in
one piece.”

  “After you,” Bohr insisted, stepping aside with his hand motioning toward the door.

  Otem led the way out to the front yard.

  Bohr looked him up and down and couldn’t help but to throw on some charm. “The last time we saw each other you had a little bit more color in your hair. But, I can say that you look great for an old man.”

  Otem smiled. “Thanks.” Then he started running all over the yard. It looked like there were a dozen of him surrounding Bohr. He hit Bohr with a few quick punches to the face, which made him stumble backwards. He looked around, but Otem was nowhere in sight.

  The speed of Otem’s feet slipped Bohr’s mind, and he knew staying on the ground would be suicide.

  Otem came from behind and swept Bohr off his feet with a kick. He then delivered an elbow to Bohr’s chest, sending him slamming into the ground. Otem ran around again as Bohr got up slowly.

  Bohr had to deal with the realization that his body still wasn’t 100 percent. Also, his fuzzy vision made it harder to trace Otem’s movements. This wasn’t as easy as he’d expected. How was Otem still so fast? Maybe the sun was blinding him. Was it a bad idea to throw the glasses away as soon as some of the sensitivity to light went away? Should he have— “Y’know what, screw those freakin’ sunglasses!”

  Otem ran at him head-on. He uppercut Bohr, sending him flying in the air. He jumped up and delivered another uppercut, but Bohr made a quick recovery. He tried to grab Otem but was hit with the old man’s once-famous Whirlwind Kicks: a non-stop series of violent spinning heel kicks targeting the neck and head—all of which landed perfectly until Bohr pulled a knife from his belt and jabbed it into Otem’s right thigh mid-kick. He let out a loud yell, then was bashed in the back by an axe kick by Bohr that sent him falling to the ground.

  Before Otem hit the ground, Bohr threw two more knives that landed in his back and his left arm. It didn’t slow him down too much, though. Otem made it to his feet and started running around in a big circle. His speed made him look like a blur, causing a screen of grass and dirt to rise into the air and block Bohr’s vision.

  Bohr waved the screen away from his face until it cleared after a matter of seconds. Otem was nowhere to be found. He flew back to the ground. The bear came up the hill to his side. The three knives lied on the ground, but the blood trail was short. He picked up the knives, then he looked at the bear while he sheathed the knives. “Do you know where he is?” The bear let out an agreeing moan. “Well, find him for me!”

  The bear sniffed around as Bohr followed it. When it got to the first barn it stopped, sat down and then roared. Bohr petted the bear. “I know you’re tired.” Then he started shouting into the barn, “I don’t know why you bother hiding? A bear’s sense of smell is seven times greater than a bloodhound’s. All I have to do is give the signal and my brother will go to your exact location to tear you apart, or at least he’ll try. Tell me, master, do you know what it’s like to be confined by that curse? It’s not like being chained to a wall in the worse dungeon imaginable against your will. It’s worse. Time stands still.

  “You can’t tell the minutes from the hours, only the season’s as they pass. Your body gets too weak because you can’t eat nothin’, not even bugs, you’ll just throw it all up. Two decades without sleep can drive you insane. But these bears saved me from my thoughts. I’d never even seen bears in Africa, but when they arrived in that cave …” Water filled the bottom of Bohr’s eyelids, but he shook it off.

  Otem came out of a haystack. “But why waste your second chance at life on revenge?”

  “Revenge is the only thing I have to live for. There ain’t nothin’ else. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not here because of bad blood against the Guardian Sages. At first I thought it would be a sweet taste to repay my old teachers, but you all were just doin’ your jobs. I can’t hold that against you.”

  “Then why are you doing this?”

  “Because Kizm has something I want, and I’m willing to wipe this whole planet out to get it, so stop trying to change my mind.”

  Otem walked out of the barn and passed Bohr. He stared Otem down and then whispered to the bear. The bear ran away from the area. The buildings blocked any view of which direction it headed. Otem stepped into a more open space—between the barns and Kwon’s training area—then glared at Bohr.

  “I’m ready when you are.”

  Bohr smiled. “I was waitin’ on you.”

  He charged at Otem. They traded blows, blocking each other’s punches and kicks. Bohr ran and jumped on the roof of the second barn. While Otem jumped on the first barn roof, Bohr jumped to the first barn and leg swept Otem off of his feet, then he axe kicked him through the roof into a big pile of hay. Bohr jumped down and started stomping the hay. “Where did he go?”

  Otem jumped out of the hay from another section of the long pile. He hit Bohr with a few good kicks to the chest and gut until he fell to one knee. Otem gripped the back of Bohr’s neck, adjusted his position to avoid harming the horses, gave Bohr a good knee to the chest, lifted his knee again and pushed the air. “Energy push!”

  He blew Bohr and the wall behind him away. Pieces of the barn pierced the house right before Bohr slammed into the rear of it. Otem charged at him with lightning fast speed. He tried to punch him, but Bohr dodged and his fist went through the bricks instead. Bohr took advantage of the moment and started punching Otem in the back of the head until his forehead collided with the wall.

  The wall began to crack as Bohr kept punching. Otem’s head smashed through to the other side, causing the whole center to crumble.

  As Otem stumbled through the hallway, Bohr calmly stalked him. Otem tried to kick Bohr, but his leg was met with a clinching arm and ribcage. Then his shirt was yanked by an aggressive hand. Within a couple of breaths, he felt himself being lifted off of the ground and tossed into the living room. His old bones wouldn’t stop trembling as he attempted to push himself back to a stance. The throbbing wounds were taking their toll. Then a sharp pain in his upper back stole all of his air.

  Bohr removed the fresh knife from Otem’s back.

  The old fighter dropped. He couldn’t take anymore punishment. It was time to surrender and accept the end, hoping it would come soon. But maybe I … Maybe I can finish this if I use that technique. Do you really want to risk being in worse shape than this after it’s all over, though? It doesn’t matter. I have to do it.

  Otem whispered desperately, “C’mon … c’mon … transmit.” All of a sudden, his pain numbed, his muscle mass increased by five percent, and the only shaking he felt was from pure adrenaline. He delivered a kick to Bohr’s gut that left the stalker bent over, and then he gave him an uppercut to the same spot, sending Bohr smacking the roof. Before Bohr could even blink an eye he was already hit with six more punches. Those punches sent him bursting through the roof.

  Within four seconds of non-stop barrages they were a speck over the ranch. Otem had to stop Bohr now or never. Well Bohr’s nose spewing blood showed progress, but he noticed his punches were getting slower and weaker. Plus, his pain wasn’t numb anymore. His miscalculation of this technique left him burnt out after six seconds instead of sixteen. Then it happened. A knife punctured his chest.

  Before Otem could react, Bohr started choking him. Bohr lifted him over his head, as veins surfaced on Otem’s forehead, and rushed toward the house. He choke-slammed him through the open roof when he got close enough. Otem smacked into the living room floor. The impact caused the floor to cave in through to the basement. Furniture hopped all over the place and windows shattered into tiny pieces. Bohr flew down and stood over Otem as he struggled to breathe.

  “You weren’t gonna beat me,” Bohr said. “I haven’t even gotten most of my strength back, but I can feel the outfit giving me more power by the minute.”

  When he looked at Bohr all he saw was the same man he first met, an angry man with blood-stained clothes. With his shallow voice he said, “I ??
? wish … I … hadn’t have … failed … with you.”

  “I know, Master Otem. I’m sorry.” Bohr sincerely stared Otem in his eyes. “To tell you the truth, you were like family to me. You took me in when I had nothing left. That’s why I can honestly say … I love you. I owe you a lot for being a great mentor, so I’ll make this quick.”

  Bohr rose up into the sky. He opened his hand and held his palm toward the house. “Javelin blow!” A beam of white light shot from his hand and exploded when it hit Otem.

  While this happened, Kwon struggled to load a watermelon bigger than his body onto the wagon. When he succeeded with the trouble, he wiped the sweat from his brow. Then the ground shook for a couple of seconds, and a thunderous sound was heard far away. A strong gust of wind blew by. People in the street stared and pointed in the direction of the ranch. Kwon went to see what the commotion could be. He turned the corner of a building, eyes widening as he witnessed an explosion of dirt and debris. Without hesitation he ran toward home as fast as he could. A bunch of the townspeople ran behind him.

  After the attack, Bohr fled. He ran through the woods until he had to stop to catch his breath. He leaned against a tree, collecting his thoughts. The bear approached him after a patient wait. He began petting it. “I’m afraid we’ll have to part ways from here.”

  The bear moaned.

  “C’mon, don’t look at me like that. You should be back home with the family, not out following me around. Besides, you don’t want to get involved with this stuff, brother.” He hugged the bear, and it hugged him back. “I’ll see you again someday. Thanks for everything.”

  Bohr kissed the bear on the forehead, then he walked away. He looked back one last time. The bear stared, pouting. Bohr ran further into the woods.

  Over the hill, Kwon arrived. Half of the ranch lied in a giant crater. What was left of the buildings were scattered rubble. Body parts from the innocent animals were spread all over. The few frantic survivors either ran around or made a break for freedom.

  Otem lied at the bottom of the crater, his eyes still open but empty. An enormous weight tried to crush Kwon’s entire body. His breath got faster and shorter as he gazed at his grandfather. He tumbled down the crater as he hurried and crawled to Otem.

  The wounds still leaked from what was left of half of his torso. So much went on in Kwon’s virgin mind, it became unbearable. He yelled at the top of his lungs, but nothing came out. The entire world around him went silent. As his eyes got heavy, Kwon noticed a red and white medallion—about two and a half inches wide and a quarter of an inch thick, with a strange design painted on it in black—lying in Otem’s palm. He reached over and clutched the object right before he fell unconscious beside his grandpa.

  The townspeople came to the crater and rushed to Otem. A couple of them embraced Kwon. Then, with panic on their faces, they tried to tend to Otem’s destroyed body, but it was too late.