The Atavist

The Olympians. Though forgotten by man, they have not forgotten their greatest triumph and ultimate downfall: the creation of humanity. Now they return, and only one can stop their vengeful rise...

As with most things in life, this began with death. It wasn't a tragic end or something as lamentable or infamous as all that. It was quiet. It was dignified. The simple cessation in the breathing patterns of an elderly woman long past the ability to care for herself. She was surrounded by friends and family at the time of her passing. Her loving grand son held her hand as she slipped from life, and as the abyss took her she had but one thought, one emotion on her mind and heart: love. She was loved, she was adored, she was cherished.

 

But beyond that, she was a signal. She was the cataylyst that began a series of events that even she, with all her powers of perception honed over a lifetime of astute observation, could never forsee. In the corner of the room in which she lived and subsequently died sat a man. This man had been the insufferably silent companion to her life. He found her one day shortly after her eleventh birthday and never left her side. Though his appearance changed to suit the mood or season, his personality and spirit remained constant. There were times she forgot his true nature, and began to think of him as her guardian or protector. True, he would never allow harm to come to her, but this was a means to a particular end. He was infinitely more than anything she could imagine. She was the potential spark to his dark flame, a key to an ignition sequence that would lead all in the room to their end. As much as she was the spark, she was also the chain that held him in place. As much as he was a friend and protector he was a beast, a ravenous creature sent to bring ruin and damnation to these people. Their fate had been sealed ages before any of them were born. Had he not allowed infatuation to blind him to the true power of the woman now dying in the room....they would have been cursed to oblivion long ago.

 

The room was filled to capacity by her family members. Sons and daughters, Cousins, Grandchildren and even Great Granchildren....this family starting with the woman slowly slipping away from life before them now gathered around her and showing just how prolific her lineage was. The power of family resonated in the room, and the man in the corner cringed as he watched them watch her. As long as he had known her she had always been a family oriented person. Her dedication to her family always revolted him, and even now with her death he felt that bile rise in his throat and nearly force him from the room. But he willed himself to stay, his grip on the arms of the chair so tight his shiny fingernails bit into the underside of the armrests and tore into the leather.

 

Her head turned just then and she looked at him, their eyes locking for a moment. A single moment in which he smiled at her and her eyes widened. He could feel it now, her will slipping away and his strength returning. And he knew she could feel it as well. Her eyes widened in that moment, and for the first time in a long time a new emotion replaced the love that always resided in her opalescent blue eyes: Fear. Just as quickly as it came it was gone, the soothing voice of her favorite grandson and his chisled countenance replacing the sight of the sitting man in her eyes. She relaxed as she saw him, a small smile flitting across her lips.

 

"That's right Grandma Mari, I am here. Just relax and go." The sound of her name brought a rush of memories as she lay there. "Mari," short for Marianna, lay there staring at the face of her loving grandson as the memories of her life passed before her. The first time she had seen a similiar face, the face of her now dead husband to whom her grandson bore such a striking resemblance. The birth of their first child, her college days, graduation from high school, walking with her father and mother to and from school each day, and of course, her meeting with Him....

 

Marianna had been so young then, so full of life and curiosity as she explored the Cyclade islands with her friends. Her home was on the largest one, Mykonos, and the others were never too far away to travel on a long weekend.

 

With her last breath gone the man in the corner rose. Atypical of a man in mourning he yawned and stretched as though testing old muscles and remembering their ancient strength. He moved with a feline grace about the room, slow arching and sliding around the room and taking in the family that was to fall first at his hands. The Atavast wasn't here, they had no guard or protection, and this would act as his trigger, his key.  Smiling softly he let his wings flare, their non corporeal form spreading across the walls like a great shadow. Had the family not been so lost in their sorrow they might have noticed. They might have noticed a new dimness to the room and their lives. But as such they didn't, and so they did not see the hearald of their own demise.

 

Efficently, mercilessly, and ruthlessly he attacked. He lunged first for the youngest in the room, snuffing out her life before it ever really began. Before a question could be uttered or a word of caution mentioned he moved to the next and next, his blood lust rising and reaching fevered pitch as in the seconds before he struck down another he considered the most viscous way to attack and did so. For the children, it was a simple cessation of their hearts. For the adults: paralysis of the muscles, stopping their breathing, rupturing their blood vessels, carving out their souls, decaying their flesh from the inside out. His experimentations were as informative as they were cruel. He learned the inherent weaknesses of the bloodlines, syphoned their strengths and mingled them with his own, and struck at the core of their beings and ripped it from them. Fifteen victims lay at his feet when he was done, and his preparations for the Atavast now complete.  He resumed his former shape, and with a gentle kiss on the forehead to the beloved dead form in the bed, he departed the place, and awaited his Confrontation with the Atavast.

Author's Note

Any feed back should focus on how the story reads, and potential develop of the story line. Not looking for grammar nazis as this was a quick writing. Would love to know some thoughts you all have! And please excuse any errors. I tried to catch them all but hey, we're all human!