Enoch Primordial (Chronicles of the Nephilim) by Brian Godawa Page B
Authors: Brian Godawa
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covering for you.”
Enoch embraced his forefather with all his heart.
• • • • •
Methuselah waited for what seemed like an eternity on the large wedding bed they received as a gift from Adam and Havah. He had only one thing on his mind: Edna. She was preparing herself in the wash area.
He had waited too long for this moment and it had finally come. He thought back on the years he spent pouring his soul into this precious jewel, with nary a thought that she would one day pour back into him. It was the perfect dream. They had been best friends, soul-mates, and now they would be lovers. They would finally become one.
Where is she? he thought.
“Edna, are you sleeping in there?” he teased.
S uddenly, she pounced on him from behind.
It took him by surprise. They rolled on the bed laughing and playfully wrestling, as they always used to in their sport room.
Then he saw her gown, soft and translucent over her supple form. Play turned to passion. Finally, they were released for love, and they melted together as one.
Chapter 18
Many years passed.
Enoch and his tribe sojourned with the cave dwelling Adamites, raised their families, and learned the way of the Karabu. The Watcher gods of Mount Hermon consolidated their reign over the land of Mesopotamia. They built large temples to their names and continued to pursue the outlaw giants. They offered bounty on Nephilim packs and rogues who roamed the desert badlands and mountainous hideouts of the earth.
Rumors grew and persisted that the gods were experimenting with occultic sorceries, creating unspeakable abominations and monstrosities. For what purpose, no one could tell. Whispers of conspiracy filled the cities. But in the rural areas of desert, forest, and mountain, life was less complicated. For those who did not serve the gods of the pantheon, life was not as bountiful. Survival was a foremost priority.
Survival was not in the stars for the snow tribe of Barakil the elder. They numbered about a hundred members, living and hunting in the snow-capped mountains of Aratta near the Greater Zab river basin.
Most of the men of the tribe were dead, hanging from trees to be dried out like meat under the soft shimmering of fresh snow fall. The surviving women were corralled in makeshift cages for later sport.
Four Nephilim outlaws ransacked the tribe’s belongings for valuables and foodstuffs. Three of them were nearly seven cubits tall, but one came up short standing at less than five cubits. All were shaven and covered head to toe with occultic tattoos. They wore pieces of strange body armor over what looked like soldier’s garb.
The short one stoked the fire in preparation for roasting their next meal. The leader of the pack, the tallest and the ugliest, crouched in the bush struggling with constipation, the result of eating too much meat the night before. He yelled to the short one, “Get that fire burning, runt! I cannot stand this abysmal cold!”
The other two giants examined some pillaged jewels, trying to figure their worth and conspiring how to secret some away for themselves.
Unseen, Enoch ben Jared peeked out from behind a tree, clothed in near white for concealment. He was just over three hundred sixty years old now, or thereabouts. He had stopped counting because years on this earth were not as important to him as eternity in the heavens. He had spent many years training for his calling with the Sahandrians.
Enoch thought , These brutes do not seem to belong here . Rogue Nephilim do not usually congregate in packs because they were too easy to spot. He frowned over the matter. The giants did tend to hide out in unpleasant environs for the camouflage advantages they provided. He gripped his marvelous bow made from heavenly metal and strung with the indestructible hair of a Cherub. He had become quite a death-dealing archer after all those years of naively condemning all war and violence. Elohim had quite a sense of irony.
Twenty cubits
Enoch embraced his forefather with all his heart.
• • • • •
Methuselah waited for what seemed like an eternity on the large wedding bed they received as a gift from Adam and Havah. He had only one thing on his mind: Edna. She was preparing herself in the wash area.
He had waited too long for this moment and it had finally come. He thought back on the years he spent pouring his soul into this precious jewel, with nary a thought that she would one day pour back into him. It was the perfect dream. They had been best friends, soul-mates, and now they would be lovers. They would finally become one.
Where is she? he thought.
“Edna, are you sleeping in there?” he teased.
S uddenly, she pounced on him from behind.
It took him by surprise. They rolled on the bed laughing and playfully wrestling, as they always used to in their sport room.
Then he saw her gown, soft and translucent over her supple form. Play turned to passion. Finally, they were released for love, and they melted together as one.
Chapter 18
Many years passed.
Enoch and his tribe sojourned with the cave dwelling Adamites, raised their families, and learned the way of the Karabu. The Watcher gods of Mount Hermon consolidated their reign over the land of Mesopotamia. They built large temples to their names and continued to pursue the outlaw giants. They offered bounty on Nephilim packs and rogues who roamed the desert badlands and mountainous hideouts of the earth.
Rumors grew and persisted that the gods were experimenting with occultic sorceries, creating unspeakable abominations and monstrosities. For what purpose, no one could tell. Whispers of conspiracy filled the cities. But in the rural areas of desert, forest, and mountain, life was less complicated. For those who did not serve the gods of the pantheon, life was not as bountiful. Survival was a foremost priority.
Survival was not in the stars for the snow tribe of Barakil the elder. They numbered about a hundred members, living and hunting in the snow-capped mountains of Aratta near the Greater Zab river basin.
Most of the men of the tribe were dead, hanging from trees to be dried out like meat under the soft shimmering of fresh snow fall. The surviving women were corralled in makeshift cages for later sport.
Four Nephilim outlaws ransacked the tribe’s belongings for valuables and foodstuffs. Three of them were nearly seven cubits tall, but one came up short standing at less than five cubits. All were shaven and covered head to toe with occultic tattoos. They wore pieces of strange body armor over what looked like soldier’s garb.
The short one stoked the fire in preparation for roasting their next meal. The leader of the pack, the tallest and the ugliest, crouched in the bush struggling with constipation, the result of eating too much meat the night before. He yelled to the short one, “Get that fire burning, runt! I cannot stand this abysmal cold!”
The other two giants examined some pillaged jewels, trying to figure their worth and conspiring how to secret some away for themselves.
Unseen, Enoch ben Jared peeked out from behind a tree, clothed in near white for concealment. He was just over three hundred sixty years old now, or thereabouts. He had stopped counting because years on this earth were not as important to him as eternity in the heavens. He had spent many years training for his calling with the Sahandrians.
Enoch thought , These brutes do not seem to belong here . Rogue Nephilim do not usually congregate in packs because they were too easy to spot. He frowned over the matter. The giants did tend to hide out in unpleasant environs for the camouflage advantages they provided. He gripped his marvelous bow made from heavenly metal and strung with the indestructible hair of a Cherub. He had become quite a death-dealing archer after all those years of naively condemning all war and violence. Elohim had quite a sense of irony.
Twenty cubits
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