Rise Of The Nephilim

Maxine soon reached the mouth of yet another dark tunnel. Up ahead, in the inky darkness, stood the silhouettes of two Human figures.

The shadow disappeared as she moved in deeper, and the two figures approached.

The feeling that something was off had come over her. It was as if there was something inside her head, warning her of the coming danger—the Human mechanism for survival. She hesitated as the two figures moved closer toward her. She stopped and stared as though she’d been looking at ghosts.

Where am I?

She realized that something was very wrong and immediately began to circle around, looking in every direction. Panic set in, beginning to course through her.

She wondered if she was having another one of those dreams. She wanted to run and run fast. However, before she could, she heard the voice of one of the figures, now standing before her.

“Welcome, Sarai,” said the male, smiling. He looked about eighteen, the same age as Maxine, maybe six-feet or more, and with the same icy gray eyes. His hair was as white as hers, and he wore dark gray clothing.

Maxine did not answer. Her mind was dazed, and sweat beaded on her forehead as if she would collapse at any moment.

“I’m Malachi and this is Zeda,” the figure said with a broad smile, pointing to the tall, skinny girl with similar eyes and hair standing next to him.

He reached for Maxine’s hand; she pulled back.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked. “And where the hell am I?”

Malachi was surprised at her reaction. He did not expect her to ask such questions.

“You have finally arrived, sister, and we are here to welcome you,” he said.

Zeda let out a giggle, “You are even more beautiful than I expected.” She took Maxine’s hands. “Come, you’ll see that there’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ll love it, trust me!”

Maxine held her ground as Zeda tugged on her hands. She furrowed her brow, trying to remember something or someone important to her, but she couldn’t. She did not remember the home or family she’d left behind. Her mind was in a state of limbo—neither knowing where she belonged or where she’d come from.

She held her hands to her ears, pressing hard against them. Her face cringed as pain hammered in her head. She was in a battle with her own mind. Worst of all, she’d even forgotten who she was, even her own name.

Malachi touched her gently on an elbow.

“Come, Sarai; we will take care of you.”

This time she did not hesitate.