Nephilim's Fall: Chapter Nine

Stella packs to leave town, and her mother...

Chapter 9 

I stand in the doorway of my bedroom, staring at the walls I've grown up in and wondering when I'll see them next. I fight back the urge to collapse into my bed and crawl under the covers, turning instead to my wardrobe. I pull clothes from my drawers without looking at them and shove them into a random sports bag, my mind wandering. Once the bag is stuffed full of clothes, I pull a sheet of paper from my desk drawer and sit down. 

 

Staring at the blank page I feel my eyes burn as I tried to think of what to write to my mother. I know in my heart that I can't say goodbye to her in person, or I will never be able to leave. Minutes stretch to what seems like hours before I decide that I can't make myself lie to her.

Mom, I'm so sorry.

 

It's not safe for me here, so Conner's taking me someplace where he can look after me. I'll come back really soon, I promise. Someday I'll explain everything to you. It's going to be okay. I love you, so much.

Stella.

Silent tears roll down my cheeks, blurring my vision as I reread my short note. I lay my head down on the desk, clutching the paper in my hands. I know I should get up, but my limbs feel like they are full of lead. Suddenly, I am so tired; I can feel everything that had happened earlier catching up with me.

I manage to lift my head when a soft knocking sounds from my door, and I see Conner standing in my doorway, his expression painfully sympathetic. He crosses the room in a couple of steps, pulling me from my seat and onto my bed. I curl up on top of it, sighing as the mattress absorbs my weight. Conner sits at the foot of my bed, his hands rubbing anxiously up and down his thighs, like they always do when he is agitated.

"What happened today?" he asks; his voice oddly rough.

I push myself up so that I’m sitting and turn to face him. I've known I will have to explain to him, but I'd hoped I would have more time than this.

"You won't believe me," I murmur, thinking of Sebastian's eyes, and the way they seemed to absorb the light.

"I promise," he says, reaching to take my hand, "I'll believe everything you tell me. Just promise me the same thing."

"Of course," I reply, knowing that nothing he can possibly say will be less believable than what I'm about to tell him. I pull my legs in towards my torso, wrapping my arms around my knees. Taking a deep breath, I tell him everything that had happened earlier, the words tumbling from my mouth in near incoherency. I leave out the fact that I walked to the park with Sebastian; I know that Conner wouldn't take that well.

Conner listens in silence, his only visible reaction a slight narrowing of his eyes when I talk about Sebastian's apparent transformation. But he doesn't look shocked, or even horrified, as I expected, but angry.

It only takes me a few minutes to tell him everything. When it is over I can feel my legs quaking in my arms, and pull them closer in to my chest. I scrutinize Conner, confused by his lack of reaction. He stares down at his hands for a long time, his eyebrows pulled together, shadowing his eyes.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" I ask finally, afraid that he must think I'm crazy. He looks up at me then, his eyes surprisingly lifeless, and I chew on the inside of my cheek, waiting.

"Stella... there's something I've never told you," he begins, his gaze falling back to his clasped hands. I stay silent, waiting for him to continue. "I'm not like you," he says, grimacing.

"What?" I ask, confused. I move to sit next to him on the end of the bed. We sit in silence, Conner still staring down at his hands. After several minutes, he continues.

"There are different people in this world, Stella. People that have disabilities, or abilities. Diseases." He says finally. "Some like Sebastian; and others that are much, much worse." I turn my head to stare at him, unable to keep the incredulity off my face.

"Different people?" I ask, wincing as I hear the note of sarcasm in my voice. "I never said Sebastian had a disease. There's something wrong with him, sure, but, I mean, he's still normal."

Conner looks up at me, his eyes suddenly hard. "No, he's not. He does have a disease. A curse. And he isn't able to control himself, Stella."

"A curse? You act like he's possessed by a demon or something." I scoff.

"It's a terrible curse. He doesn't have a demon in him, Stels. He is one. It only occurs when someone loses their soul and drinks the blood of Satan or a powerful demon." He scowls, his eyes narrowing as he stares into the distance.

"Conner, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"He's an animal. He stalks and he kills. He can't control himself, even if he refuses to, his instincts just take over."

"Conner, he could have hurt me and he didn't. Are you sure he's a demon? "

He doesn't answer for a moment. "No. I don't know what kind of demon he is. He doesn't fit any usual profiles."

I stand up, a nervous laugh forcing its way from my throat, coming out like a bark. What he is saying is ridiculous, completely absurd. But Sebastian's horns; an image of his face flashes through my mind again, those black eyes filling his face as they had stared into mine, and the blood on his bottom lip where his canines had sliced into it, they looked sharp as knives. I stride across the room to stare out my window, my back to Conner, trying to get rid of the image that fills my head.

With a shock I realize that it isn't the existence of monsters that I want to deny, but the fact that Sebastian is one. Stronger than my want to deny that Sebastian is a monster is the knowledge in my mind that Conner would never lie to me, and I know that what he said is the truth. I look at the street below me, grappling with what Conner has told me. I can feel him standing behind me, waiting until I am ready. I turn back to him, and try to keep my voice steady.

"You said you weren't like me," I begin, searching for the right words. He nods sadly, and I think he must know what I am going to say next.

"Does that mean�"" my voice cracks and I take a deep breath, forcing the words out, "are you like him?" Shock flickers across his face, quickly to be replaced by rage. I know that this isn't what he'd been expecting.

"No," he spits, his voice shaking. "I am nothing like him. I am not a monster." He takes a step towards me, reaching for my hand, and without meaning to I flinch back, away from him. Instantly I wish I can take it back, as pain replaces all the rage in his expression, his face falling.

He drops the hand that had been reaching towards mine, and I step forward, trying desperately to think of something to say to make it better. I reach my hands up, placing my palms on his chest, but his entire body is rigid.

"I'm sorry," I murmur. "That was unforgivable."

His shoulders slump, and he wraps his arms around me. "I would never, ever hurt you," he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.

"I know," I reply truthfully. I rest my head on his chest and listen to his steady heartbeat, trying to reconcile my image of Sebastian with that of the bloodthirsty monsters I've seen in so many cheesy blockbuster horror movies, but I can't wrap my mind around it. More than that, I try not to think of what Conner had meant when he'd said that he wasn't like me, afraid of what he might tell me. I sigh, pulling myself out of his arms and moving back to sit on my bed.

"Go on, then," I murmur, staring up at Conner, still standing by the window. He sighs, looking past me, his eyes distant.

I don't know where to start," he says, running his hands through his hair. "I didn't think I'd ever have to tell you this."

"You can tell me anything," I murmur, hoping desperately that it is the truth.

“My mother was human,” he begins, and I feel my eyes widen, at the clear implication that his father was something other than human. “But my father was a Nephilim.” He pauses, as if expecting me to say something.

“A Nephilim?” I ask, trying to keep my expression blank.

Conner closes his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face, and continues. “It is said that when God created man, and daughters were born to them, two hundred of the Sons of God fell from Heaven, choosing to marry the fairest and most beautiful of all the Daughters of Eve, even though it meant an eternity of damnation.” His voice is dull and lifeless, and the words have the feeling of something memorised from a book. “The children of the Daughters of Eve and the Sons of God were called the Nephilim, and they were feared, for they possessed strength and speed beyond that of any human being before them, and some were bestowed with gifts of the mind and spirit, truly making them greater than the human race.”

“Most of the Nephilim banded together to form the Order of the Fallen, vowing to use their superior strength and gifts to protect the human race from the lesser known evils of this world. Because as well as Angels walking the earth, there were also Demons. For thousands of years, the Order has protected humankind from the scum that hides in the shadows, waiting to pounce.”

“Stella, I’m a Nephilim, descended from Ezeqeel, the Fallen Angel.” He pauses to stare down at me, his eyes suddenly fearful. “So now you know,” he murmurs, “and I can only begin to imagine what you must think of me.” I try to keep the shock off my face, absorbing what he’d said. I move from the bed to stand in front of him, taking his hands in mine.

“You’re still Conner,” I say, forcing my mouth into a smile. He looks down at me, his eyes sad.

"You're afraid of me." It is a statement, not a question. I look down, away from him, unable to meet his gaze. I want nothing more than to lie to him, to tell him that I could never be afraid of him, no matter what he tells me about himself, but I can't make myself do it. I can’t help but think of Sebastian and wonder if Conner could be hiding another darker side of himself. I shudder, pushing away an image of Conner with pitch black eyes and horns from my head. Whatever he is, it can't be that.

Conner pulls his hands from my grasp, stepping backwards to look at me. "It's okay," he says, his voice heavy. "I understand completely if you don't want to be around me anymore," his voice cracks, but he continues, the words tumbling from his lips. "But you need to get away from here, far away. This place isn't safe for anyone, especially you, and even if you don't want to be anywhere near me," he pauses, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I'll always be close to you, protecting you from monsters like Sebastian."

"What?" I choke, stumbling forward, closing the gap between us. "I will always want you near me."

Relief breaks out across his face, but it is coupled with confusion. "But you're scared of me," he says, his eyes searching mine. "You're so scared�"" he breaks off, his voice troubled. "Stella, I told you that some of the people in the group were, gifted" he says carefully, and I feel the blood drain from my face. I'm sure I can't handle any more incredible revelations from him today.

"Don't," I whisper, fighting the sudden horror that grips my chest, biting down on the inside of my cheek. I barely notice the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. "Not today."

He sighs, his expression softening. "Of course," he replies. "Another time."

 

When I've packed everything I can carry, I make the long walk down the hallway towards my front door, dragging my feet the whole way. Conner follows close behind me as he has all evening, probably to make sure I don't curl up into a ball on the carpet where I stand. I've tried to tell him that it isn't necessary, and even though he insists that he believes me, he continues to ignore my protests and follow me around the house as if I haven't said anything at all.

Conner insists we leave as quickly as possible, and I am far from arguing with him. When I'd started packing things, I'd wanted to drag out my time at home for as long as possible, stalling for as much time as I can manage. It hasn't taken me long to realize that each extra second I spend contemplating leaving makes my heart ache more and more painfully, and I begin packing in earnest.

Even though I am only packing a couple of bags, Conner says I won't have room for more than that. It seems to take hours as I try to sort through my things and choose those most vital. Conner insists that I only need a few changes of clothes, but when I press him about how long we'll be away for, he reluctantly admits that it could be weeks.

Once he's revealed that, my packing slows down again and becomes more careful as I pack my favorite books from my room, as well as my only stuffed animal, a little white wolf called Jack, who I've had for as long as I can remember. For years when I was little I'd slept with him in my bed because my mother told me that he was a warrior wolf who would protect me from all the scary night time monsters I'd imagined as a child. I haven't slept with him for years, but when I find him lying at the bottom of my wardrobe, I realize that when I go to bed tonight I am certain to be visited by monsters as I sleep, and surely a stuffed animal won't hurt.

By the time I am finally sure I've packed all the necessities, I am physically and emotionally exhausted. I glance at the clock in the hallway on my way out the door for the final time, and am startled to see that it is almost midnight, five hours since I'd left the house earlier.

I am shocked at how much time has passed, and realize that I must have spent longer huddled up on the sidewalk than I'd realized. My head swims momentarily as I remember what I've spent all night trying to forget, and Sebastian's coal black eyes flash into my mind. I sway slightly and have to reach for the doorway to steady myself.

Conner is by my side in an instant, his hand under my elbow, always ready to catch me if I fall. "Stella?"

"I'm fine," I mumble, regaining my balance. "It's all just�"" I search for the right words, but can't find them.

"I know," he says, sighing. I can see that he is worrying about what he told me earlier, but I've been trying not to think about that almost as much as I've been trying not to think about Sebastian.

After all my rushing to get packed, I am suddenly reluctant to leave with Conner. Some small portion of my mind still holding onto the possibility that this is all some elaborate joke, but whenever I dare to hope that, the image of Sebastian's face flashes across my vision and I know that it isn't.

I pull my elbow from Conner's grip, trying to escape his suddenly overwhelming concern.

"I think I just need a bite to eat," I say, turning back into the house.

"There's food in the car." he says impatiently, glancing at the clock as I had a just a few moments before.

I nod resignedly, trying to keep the pout off my face. I follow him obediently as he leads me back outside and wince as I hear him lock the door behind us.

"Conner," I begin, suddenly desperate not to take another step away from my home.

"It's the only way I can keep you safe," he says, answering the question I'd been about to ask. "This isn't up for debate, Stella. I'm taking you away from this town whether you want me to or not."

My heart sinks at the finality in his voice, and the walls I've managed to keep my sorrow behind until now threaten to crumble. I nod, not trusting myself to speak without bursting into tears, and stumble across my front lawn without looking back. Conner passes me, carrying my bags to an old black Ford that is parked across the street, throwing my things into its bed before climbing into the backseat.

I stare at the unfamiliar vehicle for a moment before I recognize the driver as the boy who had been with Conner when he found me earlier. I'd forgotten entirely about the two strangers until now, and I pause before opening the door, looking to Conner for any further explanation. He just nods absently, his attention on the street outside. I hesitantly open the door, sliding into the backseat next to Conner. The driver turns in his seat to smile warmly at me, his messy blonde hair and blue eyes making him look like he'd be well suited to a swimwear catalogue.

"William," he says, reaching his arm around his seat towards mine.

"Stella," I reply, returning his smile tentatively and quickly shaking his hand.

I turn to look at the girl in the passenger seat; a lean blonde with high cheekbones and furious cold blue eyes. Her upper lip curls back as she stares at me, her expression full of unvoiced malice. I recoil unintentionally, pushing myself backwards into the seat.

"That's Olivia," William says, rolling his eyes. "You'll have to forgive her for her rudeness. Usually she can at least manage civility." He shoots what looks like a warning glance at the woman, but she ignores him and continues to stare furiously at me. I just shake my head wordlessly at him, stunned by the unprovoked venom in this woman's glare. I wonder what I could have done to incite such hate in someone I’ve never met before.

"Olivia," Conner barks from beside me, his voice angry.

Olivia turns her stare to him, the fury in her expression softening noticeably. She rolls her eyes at him and turns around in her seat to face forwards, and only when I feel my muscles relax do I realize how tense they had been.

"Ignore her," Conner says, making no effort to keep his voice down.

Olivia laughs from where she sits, but there is no humor in the noise.

We sit in uncomfortable silence for several minutes, and I wonder why we aren't going anywhere. William keeps looking back towards Conner, as if waiting for something.

"Are you sure about this, Conner?" he finally asks, glancing apologetically in my direction. I chew the inside of my cheek and lean my head against the window, staring out into the street.

"Yes." Conner's tone makes it obvious that the subject isn't open for discussion, and William finally starts the car's engine.

I am still staring out the window when I hear the familiar hum of my mother's car pulling into the end of the street, and I gape in horror at her outline through the windscreen, returning home early from work. I heard Conner curse beside me before urging William to hurry.

I watch my mom’s car pull into our driveway, and fight desperately to hold the cracked walls in place that are all that keep me from breaking down completely in front of these two strangers. I feel Conner's hand slip into mine as we drive away and bite back tears as I watch my house disappear from sight as we speed around a corner.

Author's Note

Let me know what you think!