Nephilim: Genesis

Chapter 9: Chaos

Kaze

I wasn't even supposed to be there.

Seriously. I had every intention of spending my free period the right way—chillin'. No drama. No chaos. Just me, my PlayStation, and a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos. Perfect recipe for a good afternoon, right?

Wrong.

Because, apparently, the universe had other plans.

I'd just pulled off this sick snipe move in Call of Duty, and I was feeling pretty good about myself when my phone buzzed. I ignored it at first—'cause, you know, priorities—but then it buzzed again. And again. It was like my phone was trying to get my attention like a clingy ex.

Fine, whatever.

I paused the game and checked it out.

The group chat I had with a few non-elite students I gamed with was blowing up. "Shit's going down in the hallway," one message read.

Great. What now?

I sighed, threw on a hoodie, and figured I'd go check it out. Maybe it was just another one of Asani's ridiculous brawls. That dude could pick a fight with a brick wall and probably still curse it out for being in his way.

So, there I was, casually strolling down the hallway, hands in my pockets, when I stepped into... well... chaos.

There were bodies. Everywhere.

Blood. Everywhere.

I stopped dead in my tracks, blinking like an idiot, wondering if I'd somehow walked into a bad episode of The Walking Dead. I mean, don't get me wrong—I'm all about action, but this? This was another level. This wasn't a Zombie series or video game. This was real!

And right in the middle of it all? Daxton Jackson.

My boy was... different. Dark. And I don't mean like "had a bad day" dark—I'm talking "something supernatural just broke loose" dark. There was this black aura surrounding him, and let me tell you, it wasn't giving off friendly vibes. He was covered in blood, eyes locked on the last poor bastard standing—well uh... crawling-a soldier, barely holding it together.

What the hell had I just walked into?

Before I could even process what was happening, Daxton moved. And I mean moved. Dude was faster than I'd ever seen him, like he was straight out of The Flash or something. He lunged at the soldier, and I could see it in his eyes—he was about to rip this guy apart.

There was this dark aura around him, and—no exaggeration—it looked like something out of a nightmare. He had this look in his eyes. Cold. Empty.

And right in front of him? Laten.

Dead?

Laten's lifeless body lay crumpled on the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath him and a gun wound in the head. His eyes were still open. And there, on the floor, was the soldier who I figured pulled the trigger. I felt the world slow down. Felt my own blood run cold.

Daxton didn't waste any time.

Before I could even process what was happening, Daxton was already on the soldier. I couldn't move—I was just frozen, watching in horror as Daxton tore into the guy. It wasn't just a fight. It was brutal. Animalistic. Daxton's fists were covered in blood as he ripped into the soldier's chest, breaking bones, tearing flesh. I saw the man's eyes widen with terror, his mouth gaping as if to scream, but no sound came out.

Then, with one swift move, Daxton's hand wrapped around the soldier's neck, and without hesitation—without even blinking—he snapped it. Decapitating him.