BENE-HA-ELOHIM (CHILDREN OF GOD): An Elena Duran/Corazon Negro

      Vi Moreau (vmoreau@DIRECTVINTERNET.COM)
      Sun, 15 Sep 2002 15:29:24 -0400

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      BENE-HA-ELOHIM (THE CHILDREN OF GOD)
      An Elena Duran-Corazon Negro Story 14/15
      
      by Julio Cesar
      divad72@prodigy.net.mx
      
      After walking for another twenty minutes, Frederic began to grow suspicious.
      Though they had been in the tunnels for several hours by now, they had yet
      to see any signs of Myrddin. The passage went on and on, leading nowhere.
      
      "I still sense his presence," he said to Oscar, giving voice to his
      frustration. "The ancient one is present somewhere in the heart of this
      maze. Earlier I detected him ahead of us. But now, he is off to our right."
      
      The giant shook his head. "I don't understand. What does it mean?"
      
      "We are circling him," Frederic answered grimly. "Instead of leading to his
      lair, this tunnels goes around but never through it. Which makes no sense.
      Why build corridors that don't connect with the central hub?"
      
      "Maybe," Oscar said, his brow wrinkled in concentration. "Myrddin closed the
      doors when he felt us coming."
      
      "There are no doors," Frederic snapped. He wondered why he bothered telling
      Oscar anything. The giant was an idiot. "We are in a maze, not a boarding
      house. There are no secret passageways with sliding." He paused, considering
      exactly what he was saying. "Sliding panels," he declared. "Shit."
      
      Oscar grinned, as if realizing he had said something significant. He didn't
      know what, but the expression on Frederic's face made it clear to him that
      it could be important.
      
      "This bastard is insane. That's our problem. Myrddin designed these tunnels
      filed with traps, to keep him safe from Lilitu. And he's afraid of his own
      shadow," Frederic commented in low tones.
      
      "What about the sliding doors?" Oscar asked, anxious to learn more about his
      great discovery. "What did you mean about the sliding doors?"
      
      "That's the secret of the maze, my friend. We've followed corridors that
      wind through the earth like the meanderings of a drunken poet, leading
      nowhere. However, I suspect that many of these passages actually connect
      with the heart of the maze. What Myrddin has done is block off those tunnels
      with movable walls. We're traveling in a gigantic circle around his sanctum.
      If we continued long enough, we would end up where we started."
      
      "Then there's no way to get to the center?" Oscar asked, frowning. "How does
      Myrddin enter and leave his headquarters?"
      
      "The walls move. That's what I have been saying. They slide back and forth,
      changing the shape of the maze. When Myrddin wants to depart, he presses a
      switch and a clear, straight passage leading to the surface appears. When
      other Immortals are in the tunnels, he pushes another switch, and voila, the
      tunnels reform into a gigantic labyrinth that goes nowhere. Now do you
      understand?"
      
      "I think so," Oscar said slowly. "We are like bugs in a wood maze. We want
      to get to the middle, but the man in charge won't let us. He's put plugs in
      all the entrances. It's a game that we can't win, because Myrddin has made
      the rules. What are we going to do, Frederic?"
      
      Frederic laughed, a harsh, cruel sound that echoed through the passage. "We
      stop playing by Myrddin's rules, my friend. Instead, we invent new rules.
      Ones that make us the winners."
      
      "New rules?" Oscar said looking puzzled. "How?"
      
      "Remain silent. I must concentrate." Closing his eyes, Frederic reached out
      with his mind. He could sense Myrddin's presence in the maze. What he needed
      to do was pinpoint the elder's exact location, and then find a path to reach
      him. "Follow me," he said after a moment. Eyes still closed, he placed his
      left hand on the inner wall and began to pace slowly back the way they had
      come. Anxious for action, Oscar lumbered along behind him.
      
      They walked nearly a hundred feet before Frederic stopped. He paused, then
      spun on his heels and faced Oscar. Right hand touching the wall, eyes
      pressed tightly shut, he took five steps back. Finally, he came to a halt.
      Turning, he faced the wall. "He is closest to this spot," he declared,
      opening his eyes. "I can sense the ancient one's presence most clearly from
      here." I hope, he thought. He looked at Oscar. "You said you were tired of
      walking. Good. Our quarry is beyond this wall. There must be a passage
      leading to him beyond the stones. Find it."
      
      Oscar stared at the solid wall, then looked back at Frederic. "Stand back,"
      he said, taking out his huge two-handed sword. "This will not be easy."
      
      Frederic shifted down the tunnel a few feet. "Go ahead," he commanded.
      "There is another corridor on the other side of the wall. I am sure of it."
      
      "I hope so," Oscar declared and slammed the massive blade into the stone.
      Fragments of rock went flying. He smashed another hit into the same spot.
      Chunks of debris splattered across the corridor. Feet planted in place, the
      giant pounded the wall like an inhuman hammer. A dozen blows proved to be
      enough. Oscar lurched forward as his blade crashed into the barrier, then
      through it. It took the giant a second to regain his footing. Grinning, he
      pulled his blade back, ripping stones out with his cutting edge. "That was
      easy," he declared. "It's open on the other side." He examined the blade and
      saw a few nicks. "I'll have to reshaped it, but I'm sure it's still sharp
      enough to behead a wizard."
      
      "Or course," Frederic said keeping his temper in check. His companion's
      strength was a source of amazement. Insulting Oscar, especially now that
      Joseph was gone, could be dangerous. "I told you there had to be a passage
      there. Widen the hole so we can crawl through."
      
      "No reason for us to crawl," Oscar said, stepping back. He threw himself
      into the wall. The passage shook with the impact. The wall shifted and inch.
      Pebbles rained to the floor. Hastily, Frederic checked the roof of the
      tunnel. It appeared stable. Oscar, never one to worry about the effects of
      his acts, hurtled himself forward a second time.
      
      With a crash of stone, the wall collapsed, revealing a passage at right
      angles to the one in which Frederic waited. Oscar, covered with dust but
      otherwise unharmed, grinned. He stood in the space between the two tunnels.
      "See," he said proudly. "No reason for us to crawl when we can walk."
      
      "An impressive display," Frederic said stepping into the new corridor. "This
      passage leads in the right direction. Myrddin is directly ahead. He cannot
      be far away."
      
      "I want his Quickening," Oscar remarked as they hurried along through the
      tunnel. "I've earned it."
      
      "That you have, my friend. But first, though, we must catch him. Somehow, I
      suspect there is still an obstacle or two in our path."
      
      "Look!" Oscar yelled, his voice ringing through the passageway. "There he
      is, up ahead!"
      
      Frederic's eyes bulged in astonishment. The giant was right. Fifty feet
      ahead, watching them calmly, stood Myrddin. His eyes glowed crimson in the
      darkness. He was smiling.
      
      "Take care, Oscar," shouted Frederic as Oscar rushed ahead. "There is
      something strange about the passage ahead."
      
      The warning came just in time. Oscar jerked to a sudden stop twenty feet
      ahead. Frederic hurried to meet him-and beheld the pit. The tunnel ended
      abruptly at the edge of a gigantic hole in the earth. Ten feet in diameter,
      it neatly separated one end of the corridor from the other. The sheer walls
      of the pit dropped three hundred feet down. Peering into the darkness,
      Frederic could vaguely make out huge five-foot high metal spikes sticking up
      from the chasm floor. Even Immortals could be badly hurt by such a drop. And
      Frederic was certain the huge spikes were not the only danger.
      
      Myrddin stood less than ten yards away, but it could be have been miles.
      There was no bridge across the gulf. "We have come for your Quickening,
      fucking bastard!" Oscar cried boldly. "You cannot escape us."
      
      "Tell that to the pit," Myrddin called back. His voice was mellow. "It
      awaits you."
      
      Behind them, rock scraped against rock. Frederic whirled, then cursed. The
      corridor down that they had come was sealed shut. A massive stone door
      filled the tunnel, cutting off their retreat. They stood on a slice of
      tunnel ten feet long by five feet wide. Unseen machinery whirred. Slowly but
      staidly, the back end of the platform started to rise, tilting them toward
      the pit. Frederic howled in shock. Within seconds, the stone ledge would be
      standing straight up, and they would slide into the chasm. And there was
      nothing they could do to stop it.
      
      "Goodbye, fools," called Myrddin. Turning, he walked back into his sanctum,
      leaving them alone to face their doom.
      
      "Quickly, Oscar," Frederic said as the platform continued to tilt. "There is
      still a chance. You're strong enough. Throw me over the pit. Just be sure to
      aim carefully!"
      
      Obediently, Oscar hoisted Frederic over his head. "What about me?" He asked
      suddenly. "I can't throw myself."
      
      "Your legs are strong. Jump. If you need help, I will catch you."
      
      "It is a good plan," declared Oscar. Without another word, he hurtled
      Frederic across the abyss. For an instant, Frederic glimpsed the walls
      rushing up to meet him. His mind filled with grisly thoughts of smashing
      flat against the stone. Then, before he could even close his eyes, he found
      himself lying on the floor of the fat corridor. Oscar's aim had been true.
      
      "I'm coming," yelled the giant, as Frederic scrambled to his feet and
      hurried back to the edge of the pit. The giant balanced precariously on the
      edge of the abyss, the stone platform pressing into his back. "Right now!"
      
      Even Oscar was not strong enough to leap ten feet from a standing position.
      He came close, but his body crashed into the opposite wall fifteen feet
      below the tunnel entrance. Amazingly, he did not fall. His fingers had
      placed into the surface of the stone, anchoring him to the rock. He dangled
      there, his entire weight supported by his hands.
      
      Frederic shook his head in amazement. He had thought himself finally rid of
      Oscar. The giant, however, was proving hard to kill. But Frederic was quite
      determined to put an end to his friend's career.
      
      "Oscar," he called, leaning over the edge of the pit. "Can you climb? Hold
      yourself by one hand and use the other to climb."
      
      "I think so," answered Oscar. He stared up with worried eyes. His nose was
      smashed flat against his face, and his features were covered with blood. "I
      have to be careful. My grip isn't too steady."
      
      "Don't wait too long. Myrddin is gone but he may return at any moment. And
      the longer you hang there, the more tired you will become. See if you can
      start now."
      
      "I-I will try!"
      
      Cautiously, Oscar released the fingers of his left hand of the stone.
      Nothing happened. He remained unmoving, his body held to the rock by his
      other five digits and feet. Slowly, he snaked his free arm up over his head
      until it was stretched as high as it could go. Then, spreading his fingers
      apart, he moved again.
      
      Awed, Frederic watched as Oscar tightened the muscles in his extended arm.
      Like a pulley lifting a weight, the giant raised his body up the side of the
      abyss. The fingers of his right hand pulled free and dangled at his side as
      he steadied his new position. Then, without hesitation, Oscar repeated the
      entire operation, reaching over his head with his right hand.
      
      Left, right, left, right, the giant hauled himself up the cliff face toward
      Frederic. The little man snarled in frustration. In another moment, Oscar
      would reach the safety of the tunnel. Frederic knew he would not have such
      an opportunity again.
      
      Desperately, he scanned the corridor. The passage was free of debris. There
      wasn't a thing to throw at the giant. Frederic considered his boots. He
      shook his head. By the time he unlaced them, it would be too late. There was
      no choice. Much as he disliked the idea of physically confronting Oscar, it
      was the only solution.
      
      "Come on, Oscar," he urged, as he lay down flat on the tunnel floor. He
      positioned himself in a direct line with the giant's head. Propping himself
      up on an elbow, he waited for the big man's face to appear over the rim.
      
      Like five immense warms, the fingers of Oscar's right hand snaked over the
      rim of the pit. They wriggled forward, the rest of his hand and thumb
      following. Frederic grimaced as the giant placed his digits on the stone
      only a few inches away. He tensed, aware that timing was everything.
      
      For a few seconds, his left hand lost its grip, Oscar balanced entirely on
      the grip he held on the floor. Inch by inch, the big man's head rose from
      the abyss. First came his hair, then his broad forehead, and then his eyes.
      The giant's pupils widened in surprise as he caught sight of Frederic face
      inches from his own. That was when the small man struck with his sword.
      
      With all the strength in his body, Frederic slammed his blade into Oscar's
      face. The steel dug deep into the giant's forehead. The big man screeched in
      shock as his head burst. Involuntarily, he jerked his head back, trying to
      escape the pain.
      
      Rock crumbled into powder as Oscar's finger clenched into a fist. Savagely,
      Frederic twisted his blade. Bare flesh dragged across stone as the giant's
      extended right arm slithered along the tunnel floor. Then gravity took over.
      Screaming incoherently, Oscar tumbled backward into the abyss.
      
      Smiling in triumph, Frederic watched his comrade fall. The giant waved his
      huge arms desperately all the way down, as if trying to fly. He landed with
      a sickening splat on the immense steel spikes. A dozen of them snatched the
      giant up in their horrid embrace.
      
      Seconds later, fire roared across the floor of the pit. Evidently, anything
      touching the metal spears set off flame-throwers embedded in the wall. The
      blaze meant a horrible end for all eternity down there.
      
      Frederic rose to his feet. Joseph was gone. Oscar was gone. Only he
      remained. He shrugged. According to certain philosophers, the strong
      survived. It was not true. Strong was good. Smart was better. Ruthless was
      best.
      
      
      ========
      
      Ever since first entering the maze that led to Myrddin's lair, Frederic
      worried that the Immortal might flee, abandoning his lair for safety. Now,
      finally entering the ancient's sanctum, Frederic realized that his fears
      were meaningless. Everywhere he looked there were computers. The entire
      cavern was filled with machinery. The green glow of dozens of computer
      monitors cast weird shadows on the walls. It was inconceivable that Myrddin
      would have abandoned this equipment to invaders. He was a prisoner of his
      own possessions.
      
      Frederic's gaze flicked from location to location, hunting his elusive
      quarry. He could sense Myrddin's presence in the chamber, but from this
      distance, it was impossible to pin down his quarry's exact location. He need
      not have worried.
      
      "Welcome to my home, monsieur Frederic," came a pleasant, relaxed voice from
      the far end of the cavern.  Myrddin's figure clad in a formless gray robe
      rose from a chair that faced a vast array of circuit boards. The Mage stood
      six feet tall, with broad shoulders. "My congratulations on your
      persistence," he said. "Over the centuries, others have tried to find this
      place, but you are the first to succeed."
      
      "I'm determined by nature," Frederic said. Still suspicious, he nevertheless
      stopped moving, content to exchange information for a moment. Myrddin was
      trapped in a corridor of machinery. The wizard was an old man, weak and ...
      but how did the bastard know ... "You know my name?"
      
      "But of course," Myrddin replied. He waved a hand negligently at the rows
      and rows of computers. "You are one of many thousands of Immortals who find
      a place in my great project. I am working on an encyclopedia of our race. It
      was not difficult to discover your identity after listening to your
      conversation in my tunnels. The passages are, of course, under constant
      audio and video surveillance."
      
      "Of course," Frederic whispered. "I expect no less from such a master of
      construction."
      
      "Thank you. I take that as a high compliment, coming as it does from an
      expert of deceit. Considering the loss of your two companions, I feel my
      traps performed quite well."
      
      "I appreciated the assistance," Frederic spoke pulling out his sword. "After
      decades, I disliked the notion of having to share the spoils."
      
      "I fully understand your position," Myrddin commented smiling. "We Immortals
      value our independence. It is part of our solitary nature." He paused. "Yet,
      despite such feelings, I suspect you are working for another. I am correct
      in my assumption, am I not?"
      
      Frederic took a step closer to his victim. Then another. He needed to kill
      Myrddin and later take him off Holy Ground in order to behead him. "You mean
      Lilitu? She is a part of my mission, but I am not her servant. Or her
      partner. I am the sole master of my destiny."
      
      "So think all of the Immortals," Myrddin said chuckling. "We refuse to admit
      that many of our actions are the direct result of more powerful Immortals
      manipulating us for their own ends."
      
      "The Game," Frederic said with a sneer. He inched forward, his attention
      focused on Myrddin. The ancient Immortal was a Mage, and he was a well-known
      master of illusion. Frederic had no intention of letting his quarry escape
      by turning invisible somehow. "Surely you don't believe in that fable? It's
      a myth fostered by the idiots among our kind to keep the herds in line. I am
      not so easily fooled."
      
      Myrddin shook his head slowly, as if disappointed. "You are a fool, monsieur
      Frederic," he said quietly. "Blind to the truth that glares at you out of
      the darkness. Lilitu and her Game are no myth. She is older than time and
      sin, one of the incredibly ancient Immortals engaged in her own diversion.
      And you are her puppet. You let her pull your strings."
      
      Frederic raised his sword. The steel glowed green from the lights of the
      monitors. "Enough of this senseless babble," he declared. "I have won. The
      taste of your quickening will make me strong."
      
      "I think not," Myrddin said in lo tones. "You made a terrible mistake,
      monsieur Frederic, when you let your friends die. You stand before me alone.
      While I am surrounded by allies."
      
      Frederic laughed-a harsh, cruel sound. "You are bluffing. Allies? What
      allies?"
      
      Myrddin pointed to the corridor behind Frederic. "I have loyal friends,
      monsieur. Many of them. Like me, they are true."
      
      All at once the cavern came alive with howls. Ten black wolves entered the
      room. Frederic turned and felt the first stirring of uneasiness, as ten
      pairs of yellow eyes looked straight at him. The sword he held suddenly
      seemed useless.
      
      Myrddin smiled confident. "Of course, they cannot kill you, Frederic, not
      forever. But they can keep you very busy and completely fleshless until I
      finish the job by slicing off your head once outside Holy ground."
      
      >From the desk, which held his keyboard, Myrddin picked up a long metal
      object. It was his sword, Excalibur. "Just because I hide in the darkness,
      child, does not mean I cannot defend myself." Myrddin raised his arm and
      pointed at Frederic. "Attack him," he commanded.
      
      Frederic managed to scream once before the army of wolves engulfed him.
      
      
      ========
      
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