Born of Gods

Chapter 2—Walk Out of a Wall

“You know what guys. I don't know if it's only me thinking this but I feel like Phil and Mike might have some powers,” Garrett said while biting on a sandwich that he brought from home. Along with a soup tin, two bottles of beverage drinks and a home-cooked pastry meal. He had also had dinner before lying to his parents that he would be having a sleepover at Mike and Phil's—for their birthday celebration of course. When in real sense, he just wanted to find more time to spend in the magical cave, which they had been spending too many hours.

“There you go again, you really shouldn't expect them to have powers or whatever it is you have in that toddler mind of yours.” Cynthia barked at Garrett, who saw Mike and Phil as superheroes. Or freaks.

“Honestly, it surprises me how we pretend nothing's wrong with Mike and Phil. I mean they are completely normal”—Garrett said winking at the smiling Phil and expressionless Mike—“and of course cool. But s**t, fire doesn't hurt them and that's not very usual. Not to mention their creepy eyes.”

Mike and Phil had very, well, horror-movie-like kind of eyes. Pitch black. Completely black, every part of it. No white part and this was something the town optician hadn't a clue why they saw very clearly but had fully dark eyes. No one knew why their eyes were so black, it had scared the wits out of the doctor and nurses that delivered Mike and Phil at St Anna Hospital some sixteen years ago. And this was something even Joyce couldn't accept as normal, Joy did—she felt nothing wrong about it and didn't care what anyone thought or said. Joyce has had Mike and Phil wearing contact lenses since they were old enough to leave the house and had warned them never to take it off. Joy had accepted the weirdness of her son, Phil, with ease. She knew weird was trending in her life, her getting pregnant for Phil had been the king of all the weird things that happened in the years she had lived, not to mention giving birth to a lookalike baby as her twin sister.

But they weren't exactly the ideal obedient boys, so they had taken their lenses off at least three hundred dozen times in their entire lives. Yes. Though almost only in the presence of Sarah, Garrett and Cynthia. While Mike and Phil hadn't even always thought themselves abnormal or weird or uncool, they didn't appreciate people staring at their eyes and making harsh comments about them. Phil hadn't always bought into the idea of perpetually wearing contact lenses initially, in all of his wisdom, he felt it made him look like a wannabe or some kid who pathetically wanted to fit in. So he had had many fights with Joyce and his own Mum, he wasn't exactly an easy-going kid, no—he wasn't remotely an easy-going kid.

Well, he never took off his contact lenses after one not-very-pretty experience he had while trying to impress some girl who had been one of his countless crushes. As he took off his lenses, the unexpected girl had been taken by surprise as she saw his pitch glossy black eyes. Phil, who had still been oblivious to the girl's fear spiced it a little with disgust, and asked, “What do think of these bad eyes, imagine these eyes staring into yours as we relish our special moment. Looking down at you, beyond your imagination right?."

The girl had stood up from Phil's bed and said, “Beyond my imaginations? You couldn't be more right. Just stay the eff away from me, weirdo. You'd still look so goddamn out of place if you lived in a graveyard.”

While he knew not everyone would act like that particular sassy girl, he knew it was best if his scary eyes stayed behind lenses that looked more normal people's eyes. And that was it for Phil, he never showed anybody—girl or guy—his eyes, in exception of his closest friends. It didn't really seem appealing, people only liked the vamps and the vibe it gave them when their favourite actor played the character. He learnt that the hard way, no doubt.

Mike was the calm guy, the one that never started any fight, though had participated in quite a few. Hello! Phil was his brother, that was pretty much self-revealing. Mike was the kind of son, christian mothers peeled their knees in prayers for, he was just the complete package; he had it all, it seemed. He was hardworking, nice, disciplined, focused on his studies and pretty much everything, and was gentle. And literally was a genius. Also while he was not humourous, he was fun to be with. And so maturely accommodating. The kind of boy people said couldn't do anything wrong. Nothing goes wrong with Mike.

Mike had been feeling very uneased because in his life, right from age ten or eleven, he had led an organised life. An extremely planned and know-it-ahead kind of life. Everything was planned perfectly and every detail of any sort was calmly analysed. He was the kind of nerd that wasn't shy to say that things people generally felt was cool felt really dumb to him, though he would say so politely. He loved what he thought was cool and didn't even give much thought to what people commented. He literally put on his bio on Faysebooke and Twittar, “proudly a nerd”. And he was Mike if he put it there the. He meant it. One might not give it much thought but Mike rarely wrote or did anything he didn't mean and hadn't thought through. Although Phil had told him that only a brain-dead moron would put that as a bio on social media. And then he saw the truth in Phil's remark and he changed it thereafter.

It was the cave that so much troubled him, he felt a connection to the cave and that was really annoying. It didn't feel annoying, though. What was even more annoying was the not-knowing part, the feeling of not knowing every detail of everything that happened in his life, and in “details”, that was all that was annoying. He knew he couldn't know it all but he couldn't help trying to put his life in impeccable control. He wasn't omniscient, it'd have felt great if he was but he wasn't one to make lame wishes. He had to know why he spent many hours lying in a goddamn cave like he was waiting for something. Or something was waiting for him, whatever it was, it was freaking the hell out of him.

When they had newly started hanging out in the cave, it had felt like a thing that they would get over, that is, sure, they had all been so crazy about it but the feeling was expected to die down eventually. Well, it's not news that the unexplainable feeling they got while spending time in the cave hadn't died down. It was sort of inexpressible, maybe a little like the feeling you get when you visit home after not being there for many years, only this feeling stuck like glue. The feeling was so crazy that they had all agreed to keep the existence of the cave a secret. Why? So they would be proud owners of an ancient cave? No, not really it was just so weird that they didn't question themselves about their love of the cave, they knew they loved it because it was peaceful—okay more than that—and just different. Yes. Different was the closest anyone could come to explaining their feeling towards the cave. Just different.

As they chatted noisily and argued about arguing, the strangest thing happened. It was terrifying, so damn terrifying—the whole damn cave started to tremble. Like the mother of all earthquakes was about to swallow them all, Sarah and Garrett had begun the yelling before they got powerful support from the rest. It trembled so much that they couldn't even make it to their feet, the quake just kept moving them around the cave room like toys in a bottle. They had started to bleed as they bruised their knees and elbows and tumbled around, in the room; it wasn't funny, imagine if they died in the cave. They wouldn't even have a proper burial, they wouldn't even be found. And if they were found, they would have to be identified by their bones as this cave was as inconspicuous as hell. That was if hell didn't have a signboard saying, Welcome to Hell: Home of Weirdos, Psychopaths and Celebrities.

Suddenly, without any sign of stoppage, the whole shaking ceased, all was like nothing happened. The bruises on their faces, elbows and knees did very well in reminding them of the crazy s**t that had almost shaken their brains off their heads.

“O my God, it hurts everywhere, s**t, it hurts,” Cynthia yelled as tears fell down her face.

“My knees feel so hot, I'm not so sure there's any skin on them anymore. What was that? A freaking earthquake, Cottingnam has never had earthquakes or any natural disaster,” Sarah said holding on to her knees, tears pouring down her face. They were all lying on the ground, belly faced up, recuperating from the shocking incident that had almost given them all cardiac arrests. Garrett was quiet, he had peed his shorts and hadn't even noticed it yet, the cave trembling felt so surreal—in a horrible way of course. Perhaps the most creepy thing was the fact that they very much knew that the quake occurred only in the cave.

“Guys, I think we should change our hangout spot. Let's face it, it's so damn weird that we even come here at all. I mean this is a pretty cave, no doubt but why the hell do we take this place to be a second home or something,” Mike said as he struggled to get on his feet and then tried to help others get on theirs too.

“It's a first-timer though, but I'm with you on this, Mike. I say we run out of here and forget this place exists. I changed my mind, it's not pretty, it's just creepy,” Phil supported Mike suggestion, the cave was cool but earthquakes weren't.

They thought they had seen crazy and creepy, they hadn't an idea. As they attempted to leave the cave, a loud noise was heard, though no cave-trembling this time and as they looked behind fear almost paralysed them all. Their feet were literally stuck to the ground, with no movement. Mike noticed his teeth were shivering, Phil's whole body went numb like iced his blood. Sarah felt so dizzy immediately, and a moment later, she had wished she passed out. Cynthia was so terrified that it seemed words couldn't come out, she couldn't even scream though she longed for nothing more. Garrett stood erect, shivering only a little though he had peed his trousers again—he couldn't believe he still had that much urine in him.

Rogin Lampshore was not feeling too well, it had taken a lot from him to cross to the world he was in presently. Too much. For obvious reasons, it took too much of his energy to travel into the realm he was in though he hadn't made the portal himself. It was the dominant realm and he was very much not anywhere close to being at the top of his game. The latter sounded more true to his ears, who could blame old Rogin, he hadn't cast such a powerful spell in more than three decades. And for an eighty-six-year-old man, he was always up to any task. And if it was up to most magicians, even the Tarians, ignoring the god's call would be convenient. Rogin Lampshore wasn't a coward, never had been, he didn't see anything as impossible.

But his magical senses weren't, well, fully working. It was obvious it was because of his trans-universal trip, he couldn't even detect the boys he was asked to bring to Nothumbra, and to make it worse, his old eyes even functioned less in this world. He was going to ask anyway, the god's portal he went through brought him here, so the boys had to be here. Though none of the five frightened teenagers looked like what he was coming for.

“Sons of Incendus, come take my hand. I'm exhausted, hurry. Hurry,” Rogin barked out, and his loud words were received by silence. It seemed they didn't understand him. He was beginning to lose his temper and strength—the latter more though.

“Okay, you simpletons, which of you are the offsprings of Lord Incendus. Answer quickly, as I said and I repeat, I'm weak and I don't want to get stuck in this world.”

“Don't hurt us, please. This might be your home, we didn't know—but now we really do. If you let us go, we'd be on our way for good.” One of the two girls said, keeping her hands above her head. She looked like she didn't know what she said and had only run her mouth just to make out words.

The utter fear in the girl's face touched Rogin and he went on one knee, pulling the girl close to him. “How old are you, dear?”

“I am—just—I mean I recently turned sixteen.” The girl replied shakily but was a little more relaxed. There was a form of bravery in the girl’s eyes that arrested his attention briefly, he guessed she would grow to be a tough woman.

“Please don't hurt us, please don't us. Please, please, please.” The other girl said, sobbing and moving her head frantically like a lunatic. She wasn't nearly as tough as the girl whose shoulder he softly patted.

Rogin shifted attention back to the first girl, the only one who could look him in the eyes, who wasn't shaking anymore though he tightened his grip on her shoulder but not close to it hurting her. “I just need two of you, please help me but the right ones, mind you. I need the sons of Incendus. That all I—” Rogin’s speech was cut short as blood trickled down his nose and he was stuck in that blurry moment before a pass out. He really didn't know what happened but his best guess was: the sweet adorable girl who reminded him of Juana back at home had knocked him down. A sixteen-year-old had knocked down the powerful wizard. Night night for him, while his magic was always very powerful and debatably unmatched, his body was still that of an eighty-six-year-old man. Now he knew this, while age might just be numbers, it was important numbers. Very important numbers, he realised, as his mind floated into dreamland.

They ran, Cynthia had literally saved their lives, hers included. They were terrified and no one spoke, well, they couldn't because they all ran and didn't say anything. Garrett for the first time kept up with them, he ran faster than he would have if he lived eleven lifetimes. Home was the brain safety default. Still, without saying any words, they went to their respective homes. The weirdest night of their life so far, hopefully forever.

“Oh my God, that was beyond crazy. That was horrible,” said Phil as they scurried into their home and shut the entrance door of their home. While sat on a sofa in the living room and drinking water from a glass cup, Phil yelled. “Aunt Joyce, come on down. We are terrified like hell. Aunt Joyce, Aunt Joyce, Uncle Carter. Aunt Joyce.”

“Maybe they are asleep, this is past midnight already,” Mike suggested, rubbing his palms together and breathing on them in anxiety. He was doing his best not to think of what happened but a man walking out of the wall wasn't very easy to push away from one's mind.

“Or your Dad is having a fun naughty moment with your Mum."

“Phil, can you take anything in your life seriously. This is no joke, we just saw grandpa demon walk out of a wall. Let me go up and knock on their door.”

Mike's phone beeped and a message popped up. It was from Garrett and it said: I'm so terrified, I've told my parents about it all and they obviously aren't listening and have all gone to bed, thinking I'm being crazy. In the morning, the police would go check the cave out, I'll make sure of that. Stay safe.

That was pretty fast, Mike thought.

Shit, poor Garrett. He would have nightmares, no doubt. This was not the best way to end a day for anyone. The image of that old man walking out of the rocky walls played clearly in his mind. The wrinkles on the man's face and the way he had smiled at Cynthia, Mike thought the spirit or whatever that man was, was going to have them for dinner. Cynthia online self-defence classes had paid off, she had punched the old man straight in the face, probably breaking his nose as the man had instantly gone to the ground clutching his face in his hands and yelling. And he stopped yelling when her boot met his face. Similar to how their old gardener had wept when a rusty nail had gone two inches underneath his right foot. As the old man fell, Cynthia had smashed her feet on his face again and the man-demon had fainted. Or died. Hopefully.

As he opened the door to his parents’ room door after knocking for a short while, he yelled louder than he had ever yelled before. And he had his own fair share of passing out as his body hit the ground.