Darkness Reigns: Nephilim Trilogy, Book 3

By Eric O'Connor

Gregor Nephal, a repentant fallen angel forgiven of his terrible crime, must complete one final task before he can be brought back to be with God. He must destroy Taitanoth, the last angel/human hybrid before this giant can complete the task of using an ancient artifact to open a doorway to hell. Taitanoth declares war on the city of Dallas and releases his most powerful psychic weapon, a wave of pure rage that is capable of destroying the minds of humans, turning them into rabid rioters and soulless zombies, attacking anyone they can get their hands on.

Ray, Isao, and Sam, three men chosen by God as warriors to stand with Gregor, travel to Dallas to join the angel and confront their destiny. Through the millennia, Gregor has lost most of his great powers while Taitanoth remains as dangerous as ever. The small group must depend on each other for survival as they fight their way through throngs of murderous mobs and dark, other-worldly creatures before the Nephilim can complete a ritual that will release Satan from hell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Dec 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490768120

Eric O'Connor

Eric O’Connor is a graduate of the Dallas Baptist University School of Applied Business Administration and works at a hospital in the small town of Waxahachie, Texas, just outside of Dallas. He grew up in Dallas watching scary movies of all types and was introduced to the amazing world of books while in college. After reading incredible tales by Stephen King and Dean Koontz, he became a full-blown addict of horror novels. Eric has trained in several styles of martial arts and holds a black belt in judo. He currently lives in Arlington, Texas, with his beautiful wife, Chris, of more than two decades, two sons, and his full-grown German shepherd, who thinks he is a lap puppy.

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© Copyright 2015 Eric O’Connor.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

isbn: 978-1-4907-6811-3 (sc)

isbn: 978-1-4907-6813-7 (hc)

isbn: 978-1-4907-6812-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015920679

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1

Sunday, 3:06 a.m., Albuquerque, NM

I sao stirs in his sleep again. He had gone to bed early to try to catch up on some of his many hours of lost sleep over the last several nights, but his slumber had been fitful, full of unpleasant dreams. The nightmares had changed each time, frightening him nearly awake. His body twitched or jumped and he would jerk out of REM sleep, the level of sleep named because of the rapid eye movement, to a higher level of sleep, but not enough to awaken fully.

After a few minutes he drifts back through the deeper levels and then returns to the REM level, where dreams occur. Sometimes the location of the dream stays the same, but the people involved change. Once he had been by himself, then he was with Ray, the man whose house he is staying in. He doesn’t really know the man, but there is a calming aura about him. Isao does not like to admit his own fears, but something about this man’s presence in his dream heartens him to face them.

The next time, there was another man that Isao had not met. He had been of Middle Eastern descent. This man also had a calming presence and seems to command a great deal of power. Another dream had the Middle Eastern man replaced with a young American couple, accompanied by a man of advanced age. Like the Middle Eastern man, the older one also commanded an awesome power. Still again, another dream had the couple and old man replaced with a young American woman of amazing beauty, with a small boy who is equally magnificent.

Sometimes, the dreams change locations, from Tokyo, to Albuquerque, to another American city. The one factor that links all of them together is a pair of red eyes, glowing in the dark of night, amidst a city of devastation and death, with horrific creatures and enormous mutated bugs sleeking and crawling over everything, or flying low to the ground. Multiples of people, either dead or appearing to be close to it, are shuffling slowly toward him, in varying states of traumatized ruin. The people are groaning desperately or growling in a primal fashion, like zombies in a horror movie, reaching for him with the intent of devouring his flesh while he is still alive.

As if suddenly realizing he is in a dream, Isao opens his eyes, fully awake. His heart rate is up and he is breathing rapidly. As he learned early on in his years of martial arts training, he concentrates on calming his rapidly beating heart down to a normal rate. Within a couple of moments, the jackhammer pace slows to its regular rhythm. His respirations also slow to normal. The nightmares have been coming for the past several nights and even though Isao had been prepared for them, they still unnerve him. A quick glance over at the clock on his bedside table displayed the time at 3:07 a.m. There is no chance that he will be going back to sleep. Even though his vital signs are now at a normal rate, the adrenalin released during his nightmare is still coursing through his system.

Since he is now wide awake, Isao decides to get out of bed and get dressed. Might as well go for a run, and then a few hours of training. If he can’t sleep without these terrible dreams, he will work his body until it is exhausted. When he pushed his body to its limits, he would rarely dream when he finally succumbed to sleep. He has a busy week ahead of him on his new job and he wants to be fully rested. More importantly, he feels that something is coming that requires all of his strength and skills, something that has to do with the dreams he has been having. Whatever that is, he wants to be as prepared as possible.

Isao throws off the covers and steps out of the bed. The room is very dark, but by projecting his senses, he is able to maneuver through the room efficiently. Without bothering to turn on the lights, he grabs a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt from his suitcase, which is lying open in the corner of the bedroom. The bedroom belongs to the late daughter of the man who owns the house. Although Ray did not mention it, Isao is certain that the death of the little girl, and his wife, have disturbed the man deeply. He tried to object to taking the room, explaining that he would be just as comfortable on the couch, but Ray had insisted he take the room for the time he stays here, in order to give him as much privacy as possible.

Dressing quickly, he exits the room and walks up the short hallway and to the front door. Ray had been very apologetic about the state the house had been in. He admitted that he had not cleaned the house in quite some time and then explained how he had been looking for his car keys one morning a couple of days ago and turned the house into shambles. It had only taken about an hour to put all the furniture back into place after Ray left to go out of town for the weekend.

Ray had shown a great amount of trust in Isao, after having just met him, to help him out by inviting him into his home, while Ray went out of town for a few days. He said he would try to get him into the house next door for a more permanent residence and then had given Isao a key to his own house. To show his appreciation, Isao spent the next few hours cleaning the house from top to bottom. Although it had been cluttered, the mess hadn’t really been all that bad.

The kitchen had been the worst, but even still, it was the clutter of a person who does not use it very much for cooking. Most of the trash came from either take-out food or boxed frozen dinners. By the time he finished, he had filled three large garbage bags of trash. Since it is the weekend, he didn’t believe that the trash service would be by for a few days, so he put the bags in the trunk of his rental car and drove out to a nearby apartment complex and dropped the bags in one of the large garbage bins.

After the house had been cleaned and straightened, Isao gathered up the big man’s clothes that had been strewn all over the house and began doing laundry. That had taken up most of the day on Saturday. By early evening, the house was ready for inspection. Ray’s clothes have been washed and neatly put away, or ironed and are hanging in his closet. Isao hopes that Ray will not be offended by him going through the entire house, but also that he will be pleased with the outcome.

Isao opens the front door to the house and steps out into the night air. There is a bit of a chill in the wind, but it is not too uncomfortable. Once he has been running for a few minutes, the coolness will not matter. In fact, he will appreciate it. Looking up into the night sky sends a shiver down his spine that has nothing to do with the cold. All of his dreams have taken place at night. There is an ominous feeling in the night that Isao can feel, but cannot completely discern.

He walks briskly to the sidewalk and then begins to run at a quick pace. Within a few minutes, he manages to build enough internal body heat that he no longer feels the effects of the cold. In his mind he begins to slowly click off each step until he completes a mile, then a second, and a third. He quickly grows bored by circumnavigating the block of the house he stays in and begins to explore the nearby neighborhoods, first one street, then another, always keeping in mind the path he has taken so he can find his way back.

As he runs, he finally gets into the rhythm that he is accustomed to while working out, the rhythm that he attains which allows him to focus all his thoughts and energies toward the mastery of his skills. This internal rhythm is a technique that he has developed through the years of intense training, which allowed him to progress far beyond his peers as he grew up.

His entire mental processes reach a sort of nirvana, emptying of all external thoughts, other than the task he is performing at the time. In his mind’s eye, he sees the task he is performing over and over again, in an unending loop. Each time the loop repeats, he strives to break the task down into infinitesimally smaller and smaller divisions, and he focuses on the each of the individual movements of each division and labors to streamline the process to make it more efficient, moving in order to give the most leverage and power, then cutting out any unnecessary motion, no matter how minute, and then making his body act on that streamlined process until he can do it automatically.

The end result is his performance, whatever his task is, with greater efficiency and speed. His punches and kicks became far more powerful when he used this technique to learn to put every ounce of his body’s weight into the movement, instead of just his arm or leg. The limbs also became more powerful because he has efficiently removed all unnecessary motion, which gives him greater speed and precision, which also adds to his power, not to mention the proper strengthening of the exact muscles required for each technique.

He found that perfecting this process allowed him to spend much less energy than others, permitting him to continue forward when others have nothing left of their endurance. Although Isao never considered himself a Master, a state that all martial artists strive for but only a very small handful have ever achieved, his sensei has been convinced for years that Isao has attained this ultimate level, a level completely independent of belt rank. Indeed, he has overheard others in his dojo mention that word several times among each other when they did not know that Isao could hear.

The belt ranks are partly designed to bring one closer and closer to mastery, but even attaining the highest belt rank does not mean that one has achieved the level of master, and of those who have achieved mastery do not necessarily have the highest belt rank. It is merely a state of being, rather than an awarded level. Those who achieve mastery usually don’t put much credence in belt rank.

Normally Isao reaches this rhythm almost immediately, but the recurrent dreams of a few hours ago and the past few nights have disturbed him more deeply than he is willing to admit, even to himself. Tonight it took over half an hour to reach his desired level of concentration. At the moment, he is aware of where he is going and all that is going on around him, but his mind is only focused on his running.

He gracefully speeds along with his body performing like a perfectly tuned machine. His breathing and heartbeat have increased to a higher level to provide his muscles, which are well trained for prolonged periods of exertion, with the necessary oxygen to keep them in perpetual motion.

Isao is aware of the cool breeze, but barely feels it. He is aware of his feet hitting the concrete of the sidewalk through his shoes but he does not register it. He is aware of the slight burning of the muscles in his legs from the effort of keeping them moving, but he completely dismisses it. In this state, Isao can easily continue running for several miles.

When he sets out on runs like this, he does not have a specific distance that he is trying to achieve, although he mentally is capable of knowing down to the foot just how far he has run. Instead, he runs until he feels that he has run enough. Most times he runs between twelve and fifteen miles. Occasionally he runs closer to twenty.

He read somewhere about marathon runners who would hit what is called the wall, which is a point where the body has used up all of its energy stores and begins to feed directly from the muscle. The runners have described this sensation to be like running into a brick wall. Their body wants to quit working and every movement is a great amount of effort. If they keep at it, they will eventually get past this point and movement becomes much easier. Most runners that he has read about say that they will usually hit the wall at somewhere between fifteen and eighteen miles.

Isao had found this interesting at the time because this is not something that he had ever experienced. He has many times worked himself until he is nearly exhausted, but he has never felt anything that is like hitting a wall. Even on the times he runs twenty miles, he still feels as if he could continue to go on as easily as he had. He doesn’t really think that he is in that much better shape than people who have devoted their whole lives to the sport of running, it is just that he believes that they have not spent as much time fine tuning each tiny movement their body makes while running to get the most efficient use out of their energy.

After running for fifteen miles, Isao decides that he should head back to the house. If his calculations are correct, he has been running for about an hour and he wants to make sure he is off the streets before people start to get up and about. When he reaches the end of the block, he turns left and begins to head in the general direction of Ray’s house. He thinks that it is about another three to four miles away. That should be enough running for one day and he will still be able to get in some training before the sun rises. Maybe only a couple of hours of training would be enough to tire him out in order to get some dreamless sleep.

Throughout the entire run, Isao keeps an ear open for unusual sounds and his eyes are alert for any type of strange movement. He has so far not heard the frantic barking of any dogs nor seen any evidence of movement around the storm sewers. Even in his state of nirvana, he does not want to ignorantly run into another hoard of whatever type of bugs he saw yesterday. Between that and the nightmares, it is no wonder that he has not rested properly for days. He subconsciously ran on the opposite side of the road every time he passed an opening in the street. On the few occasions when there had been one on both sides at the same time, he ran right down the middle of the road, keeping as much distance as possible between his feet and the opening maw of blackness at the curbs. Each time he had been ready to kick his running into a higher gear if he got any indication that one of the openings might spew forth more of those horrid things.

On his way back, he passes an apartment complex on his right. This is the same complex he brought the bags of garbage to and stuffed into a dumpster the previous day. In the distance, he sees a set of headlights from a car coming up the street. Even at this distance, Isao can tell that the car is moving too fast. The rumble of the engine sounds as though the car is in a race.

From the corner of his eye, there is movement in the shadows. The movement looks too small to be a person, but too large to be an animal. A sense of dread creeps up his spine, wondering what might possibly come for him. Turning his head a little for a better view, he sees the figure run under the glow of one of the parking lot lights. It is a small child running in a full sprint. This realization does not alleviate his dread at all. It is only about 4:15 in the morning and it is dark outside. What is a little child doing running around outside, unsupervised, at this time of morning? What could he possibly be running from?

Isao looks around but there are no adults that he can see. The child changes directions and begins heading out toward the street. All at once, Isao has a sinking feeling in his stomach. The child does not seem to know that a car is speeding up the street and he is obliviously running into its path. Because of the darkness or possibly because of the smallness of the kid, the driver of the car does not seem to notice either, but is continuing on at its speeding pace.

Although he has been running for several miles, Isao puts on a burst of speed to try to reach the child, but the child is still almost a block away. He runs out to the middle of the street and begins waving his arms in the air, hoping to alert the driver.

From off to his right, he hears the voice of a woman. Johnny! She must be the child’s mother.

The child keeps running as if he doesn’t hear her, and continues on toward the path of the car. Putting his arms down because waving them is slowing him down too much and because the oncoming car does not seem to notice or care, Isao pumps his arms in time with the motion of his legs, puts on another burst of speed, and runs as fast as he possibly can.

The car’s headlights finally show directly on Isao, who is still running down the middle of the street, yet the vehicle continues on unwaveringly. A loud scream from the woman pierces the night as the car’s brakes finally screech in an effort to miss the unexpected obstacle in the middle of the road. Whether it is his unexpected presence directly in front of the car, or the woman’s voice, Isao neither knows nor cares, but the driver finally becomes aware of the activity in the road. The car tries to swerve, but turns the wrong direction. The little boy is already onto the street and when the car veers, the headlights fall on him.

The car’s horn blares into the night, mixed with the sound of the scream and the screeching brakes. Isao dives forward and grasps the boy in his arms, pushing both of them in an angle away from the car. In an effort to protect both the boy and himself, Isao tucks his chin and rolls out of the way of the car, holding the child to his chest. He feels the car smash into his foot, which made his roll go awkwardly, but his whole body is already in the air and he continues forward, holding the child protectively to keep him from hitting the ground.

Even with the cumbersome bundle, Isao manages to roll back to a standing position, careful to not put any weight on his left foot in case there is any injury from the car hitting it. The car continues to skid and comes to a halt several feet away, with two of its wheels on the grass, over the curb. For a few seconds, the silence seems louder than all the earlier noises combined. Time itself stops for a moment while the world takes a collective breath at the shock of what so nearly happened.

The boy’s mother stands in the glow of the lights in the parking lot, motionless, with her eyes open wide and both hands over her mouth. Carefully, Isao puts his left foot on the ground and slowly increases the weight. There is a slight twinge, but nothing severe. He will check it more closely later, but he thinks that he has gotten nothing more than a bruise. Walking toward the mother, the boy begins to move and makes a tiny whimper.

Seeing the movement breaks the mother’s paralysis and she starts running toward them.

As Isao steps up onto the curb, the door to the car swings open forcefully. A young Hispanic man with a red bandana wrapped around the top of his head, down to the top of his eyes, steps out of the driver’s seat and moves purposely for them. Even in the darkness of night, Isao can see the tattoos covering the young man’s arms and neck.

He knows this is trouble. No sooner does he think this than the man starts screaming at them in Spanish. Although Isao does not understand the language, there are a number of English words thrown into the jumble, consisting mainly of obscenities. The gist of what the man is screaming about is that he is more concerned about any possible damage to his car than the fact that he nearly killed a little boy.

The woman reaches them first and Isao hands the boy to her as the approaching Hispanic continues forward. A loud click sounds in the man’s hand and the light from the parking lot glints off a thin piece of metal extending from his enclosed fingers. Isao steps between the mother with her child and the approaching man carrying a switchblade knife.

Before Isao can say anything, the man lunges forward, lightning fast. He is intent upon driving the blade of the knife into his throat. Isao ducks to the side and grabbed the man’s wrist with his hand and twists it until he hears an audible snap. The man drops the knife and starts squealing like a girl, staggering backward.

The woman behind him audibly gasps and the little boy continues to whimper. Isao bends down and picks up the dropped knife. Without thinking, he bends the blade sideways, toward the handle. Just like the man’s wrist, the cheap metal of the blade snaps in two.

The man curses again and steps forward, trying to kick Isao in the stomach. Isao grabs the man’s foot, steps forward and sweeps the guy’s other leg out from under him. The man falls to the ground and bangs his head on the pavement, his whole body going limp. To make sure he doesn’t get up again, while still holding the man’s foot, Isao squats down and strikes a powerful blow to the man’s crotch. The thug grunts with the impact, but does not twitch reflexively. Satisfied that the man is not conscious, he lets go of the foot, allowing it to drop back to the pavement. Isao turns to the woman and child, leaving the unconscious man lying where he fell.

Voice quivering from fear, the woman says incredulously, That man just tried to kill you.

Isao nods and looks at the boy. He gently places a hand on her shoulder to move her in the direction of the apartments. She seems to understand this gesture and begins walking back toward her home without another word. When she gets back into the glow of the parking lot light, she stops and puts the boy down. The boy stands, but cries softly as she holds him to her chest and tries to calm him.

Now that they are all in the light, Isao notices that the boy is in a pair of pajamas and the mother had obviously gotten straight out of bed; she is only wearing a small tee shirt and underwear. He is a little embarrassed by this, but she doesn’t seem to be in the least concerned about it at the moment. Her focus is only on her son. She is looking down into the boy’s face.

Johnny, are you all right? Johnny? Johnny? The boy continues to stare blankly into space and cry softly.

With her eyes open wide in fear, she looks back up at Isao and asks, What’s wrong with him?

Johnny just cries and stares at nothing. Isao squats down to get a closer look and waves his hand in front of the boy’s eyes, but they never focus on it.

Isao looks back to the woman and says, I think he is asleep.

She raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything else; she picks up the crying boy and carries him back to her apartment.

Isao isn’t sure if he should follow or not, but decides to at least make sure that they get back inside safely. Glancing back at the street, the man is still lying there motionless. Isao moves the same way as the woman. She turns around a corner and he follows. When she gets to the front of the next building, she ascends the stairs to the second floor.

Isao hesitates at the base a couple of seconds, and then follows her up. At the top of the stairs, he sees an open door with some lights on inside. He steps up to the doorway and calls in, Is there anything I can do to help?

The woman’s voice responds from inside, No, but you can come in if you would like.

Isao steps into the apartment and sees her sitting on the couch, holding the boy in her lap, rocking him gently as he continues to cry. He turns to close the door and then moves inside to the living room.

He asks, Could I get you a glass of water?

No, but maybe one for Johnny.

Isao nods and heads into the kitchen area. After opening a couple of the cabinet doors, he finds the glasses and then pours a glass of water from the tap. He offers her the glass and she takes it with a thankful nod. Holding it up gently to Johnny’s mouth, she pours a tiny bit into his mouth. After taking a couple of small sips, the boy stops crying and looks around the room.

He looks up at Isao blankly, then at his mother. She gently speaks to him, Are you all right, honey?

Johnny nods his head slightly and looks back at Isao. In a weak voice, he says, You help me?

Isao feels a shudder go through him. He has seen this face before. There is no mistaking those eyes. This is the face of the little boy that he has seen in his nightmares. It is dim in this living room, but still it is lighter here than down in the street, even under the parking lot lights. He hadn’t noticed outside, but now he is absolutely sure, there is no mistaking this boy’s eyes, they are the same as his mother’s, who has about the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen, even though they are the round eyes of an American woman.

Isao wonders if the boy had been having visions also. Could he possibly be having the same nightmares that Isao has been having? He appeared to be running from something in his dream. Isao nods uncertainly. Since the boy had apparently been asleep, Isao isn’t sure if he asked about the incident that just occurred outside or if the boy had been referring to some monster that chased him in his dream.

When Isao saw this tiny beautiful face in his own nightmares, he had always been trying to save him from something gigantic and terrible, with glowing red eyes. He shudders at the thought. The mother apparently notices and looks up into his eyes with a little concern, and then smiles radiantly. Isao stares back at her, too stunned to respond. Those are definitely the same eyes as in his dream, also. But, the dream could not possibly do credit to the reality of her beauty.

Still breathing hard from his run, with sweat causing his shirt to stick to his skin, he suddenly becomes aware of what his appearance must be. He smiles weakly and backs away a couple of steps.

She calls to him, Please don’t go. Let me at least get you some water. She stands up, holding Johnny, and walks toward the kitchen.

Isao shakes his head and says, No thank you. I really should go and leave you two alone.

Johnny is still looking at him. He says, Thank you for helping me.

The sound of that small boy’s thank you warms Isao’s spirit. He smiles at Johnny, who smiles back in the same way as his mother. Isao doesn’t think he has ever been so deeply moved by such a simple gesture and feels an overwhelming yearning to protect such an innocent life.

The woman takes the little boy into a bedroom, just off the kitchen area. After a couple of minutes, during which Isao could hear the woman speaking gently to the little boy, she comes back out into the kitchen area. Isao, still feeling a bit uncomfortable, has not moved from where he stands.

She walks over to a cabinet and retrieves another glass, and then fills it from the tap. Grabbing a set of tongs from one of the drawers, she opens the freezer and pulls out an ice cube, dropping it into the glass. She repeats this process twice more, and then walks around to where Isao still stands and hands him the glass. For the first time since they returned to the apartment, she seems to realize that she is undressed. Looking somewhat embarrassed, her face reddens a little, but she makes no attempt to cover herself. After all, she has been walking around in front of him in this state of undress for nearly ten minutes. She mumbles a quick apology and then moves through the living room to another door. In spite of himself, Isao admires the beautiful features of the body that is walking away from him. The door she went through must be to her bedroom. A few seconds later, she emerges wearing a pair of sweatpants.

Even though she is now dressed, it still does little to change her image in Isao’s mind. She reminds Isao of Ray, with the way that she has uncommon beauty and a body that any woman in the world would be envious of, yet she does not act as though she is aware of the effect she has on others.

With a very serious look on her face, she walks right up to Isao and says, Thank you for saving Johnny’s life. As she speaks, her eyes moisten with tears.

Isao smiles back and bows slightly. You’re welcome. After a brief silence, he continues, Do you know why he ran outside?

She looks down toward her feet, and then shakes her head. When she looks back up at him, tears well up and stream down her face. Isao finds himself staring into the endless depths of her hypnotic eyes. When she speaks again, Isao jumped a little.

Johnny has been having nightmares the past few nights. We both have. I don’t know if this was the result of another one, but he has never gotten out of bed and started running before. I’ll make sure I set the second lock on the door. He won’t be able to reach that one and open the door again at night. Thank God you were here. I don’t know what I would do if I lost him.

Isao didn’t know what to say. He stammered a little, and then said, I am just glad I was here.

In an effort to get his mind off of her beauty so he could stop ogling her, he thinks about what she was saying. She said that the boy has been having nightmares and that she is having them as well. Isao shivers a little, thinking about his nightmares of the past few nights, the glowing eyes on a horrible monster.

Could it be that they have been having similar ones? Could they have been seeing him in those dreams, just like he saw them? No, that couldn’t be, or at