The Battle of Our Minds: Flesh and Blood

The Darkness of the Night

This day was one that would not be forgotten. Everly couldn't shake the memory of Scarlett's words, or the cold, condescending tone with which she said them. Scarlett was unlike anyone Everly had ever known. Like Jezebel, she was breathtakingly beautiful, but in a way that made people fear her, rather than love her. She was an icon of intimidation, and it was no wonder people hung on her every word and followed her guidance without question. What she was saying barely mattered, but it was how she spoke that compelled Nephilim to turn against the Light and turn towards the Darkness alongside her.

Scarlett was undoubtedly using her powers of persuasion against the entirety of the Five Minds during their meeting, and while her words were filled with lies, there was some truth in her points, as well as in the points that the other Nephilim brought up.

The Five Minds asks for so much, and gives little in return...Nephilim give their entire lives to fighting battles of spiritual warfare for the Light. There's not much room left for other worldly aspirations.

It is also true that Nephilim are pressured to commit their lives to a cause before even knowing what that kind of commitment means. They're asked to join these efforts their freshman year of college before they know what they want to do for the rest of their lives. They barely have a chance to make their own informed decisions.

Lastly, some Nephilim feel like they aren't valued. That part is true, too. The more powerful Nephilim seem to serve larger roles, regardless of age. Nephilim like herself.

Is that fair?

The Dark Nephilim had escaped. There were too many of them to capture. Too many had turned and lost faith in what they used to believe in. Everly was afraid she may be the next. The day had been long, and while the battle wasn't over, the day was done. It was time to go to bed. When Everly's head hit the pillow, fitful sleep stole her consciousness.

Everly felt a hollowness in her chest as she lay on the cool, dark ground. The night was black and dew covered the grass she lay in. She was in a large field, but the field wasn't empty. She rolled over, making a feeble attempt to gain a sense of her surroundings. Instead of gaining understanding, she grew in her confusion. The dim light of the room cast secrets across the horizon. Dark shapes filled her vision – mounds of something. She had no energy. She felt empty and altogether depleted. So she crawled.

With the last bit of energy she had left, she dug her fingers into the ground and pulled herself to the mound on the dark, dimly lit horizon.

What was wrong with her legs? She tried to use them to help her move, but they didn't work. She paused for a second to examine her body.

She was paralyzed.

The waist down components of her body clung to her like dead weight. With what little light was left from the moon, she began to notice the gashes and dark bruises on her arms and abdomen. She stopped looking at her legs.

She continued to grow weaker and weaker. But she continued to dig those fingers in and pull. She had to reach that mound.

And then she realized it.

She was dying.

She had to move. She had a minute left, maybe less. She couldn't die without knowing what was at that mound.

She reached it.

And the mound wasn't a mound, after all. The mound was a pile.

A pile of bodies.

And it wasn't the only one.

Some of the bodies were still moving. She heard a groan here. Saw a finger twitch there. But yet they were piled up like garbage waiting to be disposed of.