1970 Dakar, Senegal, West Africa
“That which I feared most has come upon me!” thought Mbeng Fall. He stood at the edge of a precipice that looked straight down and out toward the ocean until land and water embraced and splashed headlong into Black Africa, at that very point. Mbeng Fall was nearly late for school every day; because of the lure of the endless horizon that made the young eighteen year old ponder on a great many things with great speculation about what lived on the other side. Of course he knew it was America, but he knew there was something he had to do there. He had seen it all, somewhere. It all had to be dreams in vivid color and she was always there. “Such a beautiful young thing,” Mbeng Fall said out loud in broken English. “Just ready to have herself for myself.” He said more loudly. Yet, even this mental video inside his head seemed to pale away only to hear that voice that always sounded so…so lethal. Mbeng could swear it was in the wind and not just in his head. Lately, that voice and those words had captured his every thought and wove any notion right back to the very thing roaring through his mind, at that very second.
“Yallah! Yallah! Get your cursed backs into it!” a hideous voice rang out and Mbeng turned instantly to see where the voice had come from, this time.
“Yallah Yallah!” a boy standing behind him shouted.
“Aliou! Why aren’t you in school?”
“Because of you! You late again and they gonna throw you out. Come on, let’s go!”
“One second, wey! Things … things are happening to me and I … I like it, but I know I shouldn’t.”
“Things …what kind of things? You got visions of killing people and leaving them for the vultures?”
“Well, not all the time, but more and more.”
“Mbeng, you are right! You got a problem, for sure!” They both looked at each other and burst into laughter, and the two of them took off across the open field as Mbeng continued looking back over his shoulder at the distant horizon. His brain and his loins wanted to see her again. “Aliou, see there?” Aliou looked out straight ahead. “Aliou, you sure do act like a Toobob!” Mbeng noted. He pulled his arm up to his eyes and looked at the black and hairless skin that was as purely, richly black as snow is richly white. “I guess it’s only a color, nothing more. Them Toobobs you live with make you one of them?”
Aliou stopped his march toward the class for which they had only ten minutes to be on time. Aliou turned toward Mbeng Fall. Mbeng grabbed the sides of his head and tried to shake himself lose from the extreme compulsion to rip Aliou’s head right off his shoulders.
Aliou approached Mbeng and looked at him intently and it almost shook the boy as he saw something very … wicked in Mbeng’s eyes. Aliou kept his eyes on Mbeng and spoke to him. “My brother, I know where my life came from. These people are good to me. They love me, and …and they love you too. But I am like mbok mu nul, like black water, pure and clean, so clean they washed out all the white!” Mbeng watched Aliou and burst out laughing. “You say I crazy? Brother, Aliou, you ain’t even right!”
They both stopped walking again and stopped laughing and their faces grew, somber.
“Mbeng, I know there is a mark on you.” Mbeng glanced immediately upward, but his face rose slowly, as though sensing danger. “It is clear to me, and it has made me sure that I am a door, for some reason, I see it in you … who you are … what you shall be, and be it holy or impure, be it evil and diabolical, I will be at your side!” Mbeng took in the words and seemed to taste them before responding to them.
He looked into Aliou’s face and Mbeng Fall smiled and picked up his backpack. “Aliou, get our going, or they’ll have our black asses.” They pounded fists and hustled the rest of the way. Mbeng only looked back over the ocean one more time.
“Mbeng, would you please tell us who the father your nation is.”
Mbeng looked up and saw her eyes and his mouth moved but his mind was fixed on the pretty white thing standing in front of him. “Um … President Sangor, Miss Saul.” he finally uttered. He knew he had that one right. He knew none of them were from amongst his people, not exactly … not at all.
“What’s wrong with you, boy!” Rachel Saul screamed. Mbeng’s head snapped to attention and he saw the pretty thing moving aggressively toward him. “Sangor is not the master! Where the hell do you come up with such garbage as that!” she shouted. Mbeng stood up and looked around the class with pleading eyes. “You have a calling, Mbeng!” Rachel screamed and ripped open the front of her dress, revealing her breasts barely covered by her bra.
“Here, Mbeng, take me right here!” Mbeng looked into the eyes that stared back at him and every other student in his class was drained of consciousness, frozen in indifference. “Come on, can’t you see what’s going on here?” Mbeng pleaded with his classmates.
“Flood me with your seed, the seed of the master, Mbeng Fall!” Rachel Saul demanded. Mbeng refused and backed up quickly toward the back of the room, as he saw students rising from their desks and walking toward him. “Their faces! What the …?”
“It’s time to die, Mbeng Fall” the teacher shouted. “But, not before you spread your seed! Tonight, you shall be granted the Lot. It is yours to take into Eternity!” Rachel Star said, as she drew closer to Mbeng.
The students with Rachel Saul, at the head of the pack, drew in close to him and Rachel’s skin turned black and the putrid smell of sulfur filled the classroom, with his classmates’ eyes glowing yellow and their skin like leather. The teacher came close to him and Mbeng dropped his head in fear and shielded his head under his arms. He felt the whole class of evil Watchers gathered around him and placing him in total darkness until Mbeng Fall took a deep breath and hurled a deafening and horrifying cry.
“Leave me alone!” Mbeng Fall screamed and finely tuned his ears to the sudden sound of the clash of clanging metal and the voice of someone screaming out orders; in his own voice.
“Yallah! Yallah! Get your cursed backs into it!” a hideous voice rang out, echoing off three immense walls. “If we fail the Master, he will surely come and rip each of your souls right out of their abode and cast you all into the abyss, the last stop before the depths of Tenebre! Allah has designated it and here, it is to be consummated, cast it out of the depths of the Earth and place it into the fertile ground where it shall rise up from Tenebre and consume the whole Earth, to infect the planet with the loss of faith!”
Mbeng raised his head, opened his eyes and heard himself barking out orders as his eyes gazed out over at the waves of historic earth being hurled into the sky by hordes of enslaved villagers, all in a trancelike force, digging straight down into the Earth. He gazed around at the massive walls that were wide at the base but became progressively narrower, toward the top, where all three shafts converged into a dome, a summit that provided a glance into the ancient world that had been there before the extension.
Mbeng Fall’s face was youthful and the word meager could describe the beard he wore, but he spoke with bleakness and with an authority that seemed to him that Mbeng Fall was not there anymore; and indeed he wasn’t. Inside Mbeng Fall’s head, which ported a turban, his mind went back to a time that he was not entirely sure that he had actually ever lived. In fact, his words rang true. For what Mbeng Fall’s eyes saw passing before him were, in reality, the thoughts and memories of the evil, blackened and charred Watcher that had its clawed hand embedded into the back of Mbeng Fall’s head.
The young, eighteen year old knew something had happened to him. He was perplexed and dismayed, but Mbeng Fall was aware that he was unable to stop the thoughts and the awe inspiring feeling of something not quite human, No, not human at all he told himself out loud. It was something soiled, a certain evil that now drove him. He knew he had not seen the things nor experienced the thoughts that were surging through his assaulted head, but the images and voices he could hear seemed to be so natural, as though he had actually walked these walls before and that he had been there when a great and holy kingdom reigned, an age when evil was only just germinating.
There had been others, all of them unaware of their inimitable place in time, or that they would play a key role in the future annihilation of this thing Elyon had called the extension. Mbeng Falls lottery had fallen on the number 665, the number of all those who had passed their days in preparations for a future with only time enough to find that their reason for being was not one wished for by any sane or rational man. Some of the others had been amongst the greats and renown … conquering lands and taking their weaker one and offering them up as an oblation of gratitude to the forces of darkness on the altar of Nimrod.
Nevertheless, most of the Bearers, as they came to be called, were no more than disseminators of cursed seed, to produce another bearer till the last one had sprouted and firmly rooted itself throughout the whole of creation. Mbeng Fall knew that his charge was to place the fruit into the ground and let it take root, after which, he’d be torn asunder. It was just the way to make room for another, for two bearers of evil seed could not be left together, lest one be torn apart by the other. Yet, this one … this one held standing. Mbeng Fall was the 664th generation since the birth of Nimrod and opening up of the seed of Lucia, a countdown, so to speak that would culminate into the time when the one would appear, born of woman, germinated by evil. It was now drawing to the end, the time when Lucia would again, in a much more lethal manner, reclaim what had been stolen from him and his servants.
Mbeng Fall thought about what he had heard and seen in his mind and He looked at the center of the ancient surroundings. He saw the Master. Lucia was still bright and royal, yet, murky and downcast. It was as though someone had splashed him with bleach, having lost his luster. There, the first time for sure, the man saw the great Prime Minister of all of Mount Elyon rise up in intemperance and declare his frustration. To be sure, Great Lucia recovered his previous composed state only slightly after the tirade started, but one small blemish only grew and festered as the great one pushed longer and faster toward the day of his folly.
When all the hosts were arrayed to cast Lucia asunder, he took flight and lifted his hideous self into the air, and like a messenger of darkness, he hurled himself to this very place where the young man was now standing. He regained reality when he saw two captives, both small children and just standing and crying.
With the evil Watcher’s hand shoved into Mbeng Fall’s brain, impulsively looked to the left and right and two men took their guns and aimed them at two little girls, who were no more than Twelve, looking up at him and seemed to plead with him to let them go back to their mommies and daddies.
“Please take me to my daddy!” one of them cried out as they embraced each other to let their fear hold onto each other.
Mbeng Fall looked down at them and his face took on a toughness and an evil appearance that told the two little slave girls that he was going to kill them, either now or later. They looked at each other and let go of each other and turned to face him.
Mbeng Fall took on a concerned look across his face and shook his head in apparent sadness. “You have no mommy or daddy, now. They will never remain with you; you have no place to return to.” He said in a low solemn voice. The he lifted his head and stared into the two little girls’ eyes. The both began to shake uncontrollably and the fear flowed out their bowels. “Both of your cowardly fathers were ripped open alive and fed to the Optals, as you shall be unless you get to the task, now!” He knew that the Optals were profoundly infected with hunger, not men and nor women, not angel nor demon. They were the remains of those whose appetites could not be satiated and whose presence had now twice corrupted the world.
“I really am sorry, but your deaths shall be merciful.” He felt shame tear at his insides, as his hands, his eyes and his brain refused to obey his will, as he raised his hand into the air and two shells crashed into each of the little bodies that had been fearfully hugging each other, only moments earlier. Their skulls exploded.
“It was the only way to reunite you, as you requested.” The man turned away as the Optals were let loose. He heard them as they tore at the bodies, ripping them limb from limb, only searching for something else to devour briefly before reaching the length of the massive chains shackling their ankles and dragging them all back into the their abode still tearing into the small carcasses.
Mbeng Fall looked out again at the spot where over 300 men, women and children were digging into the ground to retrieve something that this man would kill … again to retrieve something precious, something obliged. Mbeng Fall’s face now was exchanging the appearance of a young eighteen year old black African and then took on the look of an evil beast with flashing red eyes, yellowed teeth and with a putrid smell that seemed to cut the air each time he breathed. He was determined to bring to light that which had been buried in the darkness. He smiled wickedly and pulled on his face to get the evil thing away from him, but it was inside his brain, caressing his thoughts and pressing Mbeng Fall down ultimately to consume him. The young man’s visage did not show the depth of spiritual warfare that this son of Ishmael would endure, for the Master, with thoughts and machinations rummaging through his mind, which were not his own. He listened to the wail of the Optals and Mbeng Fall spoke to Allah in a quiet voice.
“Sometimes, Allah is not merciful?”
Mbeng Fall’s mind saw it, there, down toward the retched digging and dying crowd gathered below him. He could see him, “Lucia?” The Great Ruler of the Realm was there, before his Mbeng Fall’s eyes, mounting his last stand. It was then that Mbeng Fall recalled seeing the great agony in his master’s eyes, the increasingly darkened Watcher continued to watch one far greater than he, and he saw where Lucia had concealed it, right there, where the men, women and children broke open the ground that had not been disturbed since the Watchers’ master had put out of sight his source of a progeny. “So many years before the bastards came into our land!” the Watcher declared through the voice of the tortured the mind of the eighteen year old.
The man scanned those digging and scratching the Earth, tortured by evil urchins, holding them fast and forcing their every movement. This devotee to Allah, the idol of the Kabaa, as a place behind which no mere idol rested. This idol of the black stone, once a mere idol amongst hundreds of other stones that resided inside this 627 square foot building called the Kabaa and worshiped by pre-Islamic Arabs, now was the seat of the lie that drove more than one billion, like him, sworn to face in the ancient structure’s direction five times a day, every day, in prayer. This place had transcended Islam and remained the seat of the master, himself. It all served Lucia’s little masquerade of goodness and held together by rage, vengeance and mayhem.
Mbeng Fall’s clouded mind watched it all in his eyes as clearly as if he were there. Was he there? He could not be sure. Lucia walked through the great doors with fifty principalities and ordered them to dig, to go so deep to find what only time and sand knew resided there.
Lucia reached behind him and wrenched one of his great wings around front. He grabbed hold of the top point of his left side. He felt it, that thing that he had been warned he’d suffer if he declared himself to be what he could rationally never win. Then, with one great aggressive movement, Lucia broke off the top point of his wing. Lucia screamed and fell to ground in great throbbing, until he felt his being fill with rage and soon the pain turned to anger and he hurled himself into the air and dropped the broken fragment from his blackened body into the hole Lucia’s minions had dug.
“Let it remain and let its hungry need to live serve as its reason to be, at that appointed time. We shall fashion my progeny and he shall distort the plans of Elyon!” Lucia declared. His face then contorted and his eyes turned red like fire and he heaved and hurled out his voice so that every Watcher in Mount Elyon turned in readiness to either serve him or to cast him down from Mount Elyon.
“I will sit at the top of the mountain of Elyon! I will eat of the Tree of Life and … I …shall be…” Lucia cried out, trying to use the words of Elyon when the Great fallen Watcher declared, “I Am!” Lucia declared as he turned and saw a ball of fire flying toward him.
“Who is this … this meek one, Michael? Are you not the one from whom is never heard nor seen the slightest hesitation to do Elyon’s bidding?”
“Brother, you have but one way and it is Elyon’s kindest attribute. Shall you not avail yourself of it?”
“I have sought His understanding, but until now, He would not tell me where this inner craving comes from. He made me grand, oh so wonderful to behold, His greatest of all He had made, until … He planned this extension of those parasites! That, I will never quite comprehend!”
Michael stood before Lucia, his kin and his fellow servant of Elyon, until that very day. “He has requested your presence, great Lucia. Can you imagine Him to make request of anything, and after all you have undone in the Realm of Elyon? It is unspeakable, your action of insidious and time-starting rule that sets the clock in motion to the last fleeting seconds, when you shall meet your interminable ruin!” Michael shouted, as he took hold of the great blade that unnervingly hung at his side and swung it forward and around until it collided with Lucia’s and the two blades, with the intent to slay the other rang out with a clanging sound that resounded throughout Mount Elyon. “You were the reigning one!” Michael shouted as he fought back against the great one who towered over the Faithful Watcher, now the closest one to Elyon. “You were the reigning one, the keeper of the Realm, the messenger of Elyon until iniquity was found in you!” Michael reared back and swung the great weapon and pierced Lucia’s side and the great Watcher fell to the floor of the great tomb with three walls and his glistening color and his instruments the shone like crystal instantly shattered and his luster turned to coal. Lucia looked upward and saw what he had become and screamed in great sorrow and wrath and knew he had been cast down.
Michael gazed downward at Lucia writhing on the floor and staring up at the point where the three walls converged and called out to all those who still swore allegiances to him. Michael turned his face and listened to the sound of a million chariots approaching and knew that the time for pleas would soon be at an end. He turned back toward Lucia. “My brother, have you not evidence enough to know there is a remedy, but henceforth, you shall never again rule in Mount Elyon!” Michael knew that the Watchers who had cast their lot with Lucia would soon arrive.
Lucia looked into Michael’s visage and drew close. “Yes, my brother, He made me illustrious and powerful…there is no other from Elyon like unto me, but there are still three who hold sway on me.” Lucia pulled his face very closely to Michael’s and spoke in a low, powerful, guttural voice. “Do you know what is worse than being last on the line, Michael?” Michael looked perplexed. “Great Lucia, I am not aware of the source or meaning of your words.” Lucia grabbed hold of Michael’s shoulder and pulled himself up and looked Michael directly into his visage. “Yes, of course, you wouldn’t be aware of any of that, for it has always been me who held sway in Mount Elyon.” Lucia replied. “Uncanny is it not, brother? This new thinking is so … liberating. Here is what I have come to understand. To be last is painful, but there is nowhere to go but up. Yet, the worst place to be of all is number two, where everyone fears you but one.” Lucia looked up and rage progressively swathed his face. “Only one still limits me from taking the power that I can almost grasp! It’s too close to the top to ever relinquish it, without a war!”
Michael had never seen such a sight, but somehow, his instincts told him it was evil and that Mount Elyon had changed forever.
“So Michael, I shall have it all or nothing!” Lucia cried out as he propelled himself forward to take Michael into his putrid hands. With the sound of a million feet pounding the ground, the fallen Watchers had become deafening as they all gathered around the three walled place pounded on the walls. Michael knew that all prospect of repentance had evaporated.
As Lucia sought to take hold of the Watcher of Elyon, Michael, quickly maneuvered the great sword and propelled it into Lucia’s back and lifted Lucia into the air and cried in a great bellowing voice, “Elyon rebuke you!” The sound resounded inside the head of the devoted servant of Allah.
Mbeng Fall saw it all behind his eyes, flowing through his mind by way of the evil Watcher that served as a conduit of the passage of time, when there was war in Mount Elyon. He could hear the words as Lucia and Michael wrestled for the Throne of Elyon, Rebuke you! … rebuke you! Finally, screaming in a voice that drowned out the cries of Lucia, Michael held Lucia in the air and hurled his decree. You are cast down, you and your entire rebellious hoard! Your thrown shall be given to another! So it is decreed, so it all shall be!
Michael then reared back and cast Lucia into the air and he fell past Mount Elyon and collided with the Earth and was swallowed into the heart of the Earth, causing great calamity.
The Turban arrayed young man’s head jerked upward at the sound of voices chanting and saw them all bowing down in homage before the hole they had been digging. “Allah Akbar! The Master resides here!”
The man ran down the long planks to the edge of the hole where the captives had dug a twenty-five foot deep hole. At the bottom there was glowing sand, almost liquefied.
“Yallah! Yallah! Take it, go on and dig it out!” All the captives backed up in great trembling and ran to hide themselves. The man grabbed hold of the closest one to him around the throat and cast him down into the hole. Two others pointed their guns at the young man who was now deep in the hole and feeling the heated sand below.
“Take it out now and give it to me!” A bullet was hurled into the hole, just to the right of the terrified captive. He fell instantly to his knees and started digging around the hole. As his hands dug into the molten sand, his flesh caught fire and his fingers, grasping a piece of something that was scalding to the touch. He grasped it nonetheless. His mind and the evil putrid Watcher that had its clawed fingers shoved right into the young man’s head would not let him release it. The young man pulled out the thing and held it up before his eyes and fire engulfed his whole arm and moved across his face as he stood up, handed it to the Muslim man and then crumbled into the hole and burned to ashes.
The man held the fragment of the master up to his eyes and heard a voice. It was strong but calm, almost eerily so. “Plunge it down into your belly. Force it in until it cannot be removed, until the proper day!” The sixteen year old young man gazed at the tip of the evil Watcher’s wing. He pointed it downward just as a human thought of his own escaped past the evil Watcher’s grasp and he became terrified.
The Watcher who had latched onto the man’s brain regained the upper hand. “Split yourself asunder and procreate with the preferred one.” the voice inside the man’s head screamed out. He grasped it tightly and then with unfettered force, with the tip of the wing of Great Lucia pointing downward, he heaved and impaled the evil relic into his stomach and the pain it inflicted only tortured him for few minutes when his writhing mass of human flesh fell to the floor in screams of terror replaced his terrified screams with hideous laughter. He lay on the floor and his eye turned yellow and red, then his flesh became that of some four-legged beast and then returned back to human likeness. He screamed out the sound of a jackal and opened his eyes…
“Mbeng, are you awake?” There was no response, but the boy’s mother knew he was up. Mbeng always had a certain silence that she had always known was … mysterious, for want of any other word that was not too strong or to passive to describe it. He was elusive and timid, kind and cruel. He did not seem to fit into any category at all. Even young seventeen year old Roger Masters knew that he was … different, for want of any other word that was not too strong or to passive to describe it.
His eyes flashed open and he was sure he’d find himself lying on the floor of some darkened, ancient tomb with a charred, rotting piece of the devil’s wing stuck into his abdomen. He sat up in his bed and felt a sharp pain in his stomach and looked down at his shirt. It was covered with blood. The boy slowly and frightfully pulled his shirt up over his stomach and saw it there. His stomach was sliced open. He grabbed his stomach and screamed.
“Mbeng, I know you gonna miss your ride for sure.” Teacher Rachel Saul carefully so as not to frighten the little jerk who was asleep in her class. “Are you awake?” There was no response, but Rachel knew he had come to. Mbey Fall opened his eyes again and sat up immediately.
“Burning the midnight oil, Mbeng? That’s something my dad always said to me.” Rachel said. Let’s try to sleep at home; you’re a smart young man, Mbeng. Let’s show it a little more, what ya say?”
“Sorry, Miss Saul, I won’t let it happen again.” All the students laughing and Mbeng carefully elbowed the ones on his left and right, which made them laugh harder.
“Well, Mbeng is right.” Rachel said. “This will be my last day here.” Everyone looked shocked, but not even close to the expression of surprise as Mbeng wore over his troubled face.
“Yes, I have been offered a study position for my Doctorate at the University of Hawaii. It is a great opportunity, but I will miss you all, and I will remember all of you as long as I…”
“No! You cannot leave!” Mbeng exclaimed. “I … I mean, what will we do for a teacher?”
“Well, there are many better, far more interesting and experienced than me.” Rachel said
“None as beautiful!” Mbeng said quietly. “Well, thank you, Mbeng. All of you, study hard and I will pray for each of you every day.” Rachel exhorted them all.
Mbeng looked around and stood up and walked over to the teacher. Rachel felt a wave of fear run over her, but she kept her composure. Mbeng looked at her and put out his hand. Rachel debated the best course of action and finally took his hand I hers. He shook her hand and then pulled her close to him in an affection but proper hug. He felt her warmth and whispered in her ear, “I am coming to you.” Then he let go of Rachel Saul, his teacher and ran out the door.
When he got into the hallway, he pulled up his shirt. He only saw skin and something in the corner of his right eye. He shifted his eyes to the right and the left and saw it. An evil blackened beast with eyes that glowed yellow and red bowing down. Mbeng saw it clearly and waited to wake up again and finally screamed when he heard the words, “My name is Abaddon.”
Down the front of his stomach, there was something protruding out, just under his skin. It was the shape of the bone he had seen Lucia break of his wing. Nbeng Fall’s mind ran wild and he wanted to scream and wanted to tear it out right there, but he knew he had only begun to learn what it meant to be the seed of Nimrod.