Nephilim's Fall: Scenes for review

Death Scene in Chapter One

I tug my hood down further and began to trudge home, hearing the gravel and ice crunch beneath my feet with each step.

I take a different route in an attempt to make a shortcut. Narrow, back alleys between old warehouses, all have crumbling red brick and smashed windows. It is dark, about 6:30 judging by how the sun is completely out of sight, except for the small and fading line of light coming from the horizon.

I watch the moon slowly make its way up the darkening sky. I know I have a little more than half a mile to go. I try not to think about it.

Four silhouettes are up ahead. Their laughter makes its way to my ears. Getting closer, I see it is four guys tossing a football. I don't look up as I make my way past them. The laughter of the boys stops and silence fills the air. As I look back, all I see is a spiraling football growing in size as it closes in on my face. Instinctively, my body attempts to move to the right, out of the way of the incoming object. It nails me on the left side of my face knocking me back to the harsh gravel road. I lay there for a second feeling dazed, knowing that was no accident.

Looking up, I see Derek standing above me, his three friends flanking him. The manic grin spread across his face. I shudder. One of Derek's friends picks up my binder that I was holding and stares at it with his mouth hanging open.

"Um, Derek, you might want to take a look at this."

"What?" Derek barks as he walks over and rips the binder out of the boy's grip.

I know what he'll find on the binder. It will be the sketch I made of a girl sitting at her desk in front of a window in class. The girl in the drawing is Stella. Derek's reaction is quick and immediate. His normal, pale complexion burst with color. Veins stand out on his forehead, and his fists began to shake. Even his nose starts to twitch with fury.

"I'll kill you." His cold voice shakes.

Everyone knows Derek has a bad history of violence, me better than most. Memories flash through my mind. Memories of Derek, of the kids he's hospitalized. My heart races, a tingly sensation filling my body as adrenaline flows through me. I jump up and run as fast as I can. Taking a right on the first street I come to, in hopes of finding an adult.

I run through the darkening street. The pavement passing soundlessly beneath my feet, blurring at the edges of my vision. My pulse beats erratically in my eardrums, filling my head. My chest burns as I drag breath after protesting breath into my screaming lungs. A grunt comes from behind me, alien in the surrounding gloom. My sneaker drags at the concrete below me and I stumble, shock paralyzing me momentarily as I suddenly remember why I'm running; who I'm running from. I catch myself before I fall, the sounds of running feet behind me ring hollowly in my ears.

I push forward with a new found urgency to put as much distance between myself and Derek's footsteps, but they ring out clearly, again and again as he pursues me. My muscles burn with each step that propels me forward, but I push myself harder. The air seems to pull at me, and each step comes up shorter than the last. The steps behind me continue, hammering a relentless beat, and I know that he is drawing inexorably closer.

My head is full of the sound now, all others drowned out by the rhythmic pounding. I glance at the ground below, and realize in horror that it's moving past in slow motion. Terror rips at my chest, threatening to overcome me entirely. A brick wall looms suddenly out of nothingness, blocking my escape.

I open my mouth to scream, but the only sound I can hear is the pounding from behind me, terrifyingly close. Suddenly it stops, and a hand snakes around in front of my face, clamping my mouth shut.

Derek shoves me hard against the red broken brick, holding my throat with his right hand.

"What shall I start with?" His eyes sparkle as he pulls out his pocket knife and flicks it open with a click.

Holding my throat, he pulls my head a couple of inches away from the wall and bangs my head back against the brick with so much force my vision temporarily goes black. A feeling of wetness slowly streaming down the back of my neck is all I can think of as real fear grips me.

He brings his knife to my neck, and slices downward. The sing of the blade paralyzes me. He continues, doing two more slanted cuts in quick succession. I can feel blood drip down my neck.

I hear running feet approaching, one of his friends speak up, "bro, what the hell are you doing, man! Are you carving your name in him or something?" My vision starts to return and I see his friends are backing up now, looking freaked.

"I'm just carving a 'D' in his neck so he remembers. If you guys want to go then go." Derek tells them, ice in his tone. They all take him up on the offer, first backing up, then running off into the night, turning down a dark alleyway.

Derek lets go of my neck as he watches them. Turning back to me with a hard right hook. I hear my nose make a wet crunch and I'm thrown to the ground. My body reverberating with pain.

Looking to my right, I notice a board missing from the brown wooden fence a couple yards away. "I can make it," I think to myself as I crawl for it. Derek scrambles after me, grabbing my ankle as I lunge through the gap. I struggle trying to pull my foot free. My shoe slips off and Derek loses his hold. His hands frantically claw at my foot as I slip from his grasp and go through the rest of the way. Getting up quickly, I arise to the ice covered woods and begin to run as fast as I can.

A curse escapes my lips as my body begins to plunge towards the forest floor. My hands instinctively reach out to catch myself. My left wrist rolls, causing my arm to lurch awkwardly to the side.

"Damn," I cry quietly into the damp earth. My pain is met with frustration as my bag flys several feet in front of me. The soft thuds of my possessions rolling across the pine needles arises further panic.

"Mom's necklace!" Ignoring the pain, I crawl forward; darting my hands in the dark, my fingers desperately searching for the small velvet pouch. I nearly shout with relief when the pouch connects with my palm; only the thought of the impending danger keeps me moving along.

As I continue to run forward, I wonder if I am going to get myself lost. What a predicament, I think; to die at the hands of a deranged bully, or of exposure out in the middle of nowhere?

"What can I do to survive this?" I pant, holding my hand over the pouch and closing my eyes. I feel something reach out to me as I open my mind. I gasp, my focus returning to my surroundings. I look up at the sky, the moon off to my left. Following my instincts, I run in the direction of the moon. This might be risky. There is a good chance that veering left can lead me closer to Derek. My instincts seem to think it an escape route, and that is enough for me. They have never let me down. For good measure, I quicken my pace, rushing through the trees as swiftly as I can without damning myself to a second fall.

A loud owl's hoot rolls through the air, causing me to take pause. I hear the sound of branches snapping not too far from me. My heart lurches and my breath quickens. He has almost caught up with me. I have to hurry, or I am going to die. I take off into a sprint, missing trees by mere inches. My vision blurs for a split second but, I shake it off in time to dodge another tree.

"Help," I gasp, bolting towards the sound of the hoots. The branches breaking behind me are getting closer, the rate at which they're snapping increasing rapidly. Derek can hear me; he is officially on the chase now. I stifle the panic rising in my chest. Now is not the time to let it slow me. No hesitation.

"You can't outrun me much longer freak!" He shouts.

His voice sounds close, it sends ripples of fear through my body. I can hear his breathing now, even over the labored sound of my own. The air is knocked out of my body as my feet plunge into cold, dark water. The water. Pushing forward, forgoing any hesitation, I continue my path into the icy lake. As the water comes up to my hips, I hear the splash of his feet behind me.

"s***," I hear him gasp as he trudges after me. My feet can no longer touch bottom, and I lose my pace. I know he is taller than me, using his footing, Derek can quickly close the distance. I feel his hand grab my sprained wrist as he yanks me back through the water. My cry of pain is interrupted by the lake water filling my lungs. The water burns my nose and chest as I sputter helplessly.

He mercilessly raises me out of the water by my injured wrist. I see him relishing in the unexpected advantage he has gained. He has plenty of height on me, lifting me to face him with ease. The bright radiance of the moon casts a light over the lake, illuminating his face. His eyes are cold as always; cold and cruel. They have always looked this way.

"I didn't want to do this," he growls angrily, his blame thrown at me fiercely. He submerges my head just under the water, my eyes still able to see his in the moonlight. I struggle, trying to tear his hands off of my neck.

I muster my strength, and think through my next move, trying to hold on to consciousness. I release my hands from his fingers and let my body go limp. I hold on, remaining perfectly still until I can feel his grip loosen and his guard lower. With one calculated swipe, I rip my hand through the flesh on his face, digging my nails deep when I feel the socket of his eyes as I kick myself off into his stomach with all of my strength. As he falls backward in shock, I fling myself deeper into the water.

I know it isn't the wisest decision, plunging deeper into the unknown lake as weak and dizzy as I am. I only know I want to be further away from him, for him to lose track of me. I am unable to take a breath before diving under the surface. I need to swim as far as I can until he loses sight of me.

My body keeps moving, struggling to move forward. I can feel my lungs giving up, refusing to put up with any further abuse. I need to breathe. My body begs to surface, but I know I can't risk it. Further and further out I swim. I can feel him floundering around in the water, searching for me. No distance feels safe enough. Time suddenly feels like it's slowing. I can no longer feel him disturbing the water. Have I swam far enough? Am I safe?

My heart begins to freeze with despair as I realize how deep I really am. My fear has turned me completely around, I have no sense of direction under the water. I can't see the moon shining from above. The only thing around me is darkness and cold. My body begins to slow, my energy levels completely depleted.

I am going to die after all. My brain begins to calm, accepting my fate. So I'm not going to make it out of this. That is okay now, I haven't given him the satisfaction of killing me himself. Maybe if I am lucky, my body will never be recovered, and he will live in fear of my return and vengeance for years to come. My thoughts drift away, replaced by nothingness. The lake remains still and undisturbed. I relax, submitting fully to the water and its claim on my life.

I don't register the feeling of someone pulling my body to the shore. It feels dream-like, unreal and irrelevant. It is the wrist pain that draws me back into awareness. The person dragging me out of the water is not gentle, yanking me up the shore with strength.

I have no energy to open my eyes, but I can see moonlight through my closed lids. When the movement stops, my arms are dropped carelessly to my sides, slamming the wrist into the rocks beneath me. I release a small whimper of pain, catching the attention of whoever stands above me. The sound of my rescuer's steps are light, quiet, and calculated. I feel him kneel near me, his breath warming my cheek. I strain with every remaining ounce of energy to turn my head. I want desperately to open my eyes.

Derek's voice is cold and filled with malice, "Did you really think you could get away from me, freak?" He lets out a soft dark laugh as his fingers close around my throat. "You're mine to kill." His voice shook, reveling in this moment.

My eyes open. Derek's eyes are cold, one bloody. He's smiling, his lip quivering as he reaches for a rock. I notice a man, ten feet behind him, watching from behind a tree. The man is wearing a long, black coat.

"Help," I whisper. Derek's left hand still a vice around my throat, his right hand comes back from his side with a fist-sized rock. My eyes go black from the impact of the first hit.

More hits come, I can't feel them anymore, only the dull jerking of my skull from one side to the other and the splash of each impact tells me he's not stopping.

Time passes, I vaguely make out the crunching of gravel under Derek's boots as he leaves me to die in the now crimson snow.

I can feel my consciousness going.

My throat feels like it is collapsing and I can tell I am drowning for a second time, this time in blood, my mouth full of it.

At this moment I am filled with hatred, not for Derek, but for myself, because I am skinny and weak and useless. I can feel my mind let go. I am lying in the snow. My entire body reverberates with pain. I can feel my legs folded under myself unnaturally. With every breath, I seem to get colder. My body shudders. Ice in my bones. I know I am in serious trouble. If I don't get help soon, I will die.

Every breath is a little harder. My shivering is filled with pauses now, and the breaks are getting longer. Above, overhanging branches form a canopy. I can feel my body shutting down. Slowing breath and heart rate. My muscles become rigid. At least I no longer feel cold. There is a vast sense of relief for not having to move. I am getting so tired. My body has began the process of dying.

"I'm in trouble. Somebody, please. Dad?"

My last thought is, "it's just like going to sleep." Then all at once, there is no rigidity, no discomfort.

Continue reading with "WHAT AM I? Chapter Two"