Starting Period: Entrance
Ending Period: Cataclysm
An alien ENTITY protects itself using some chosen of Earth’s inhabitants.
Anime Style Demi-humans
Altruistic action towards humanity by the ENTITY
Humanity leaving the Sol system
Public Knowledge of the ENTITY
FTL Space Travel
The Connection/Interaction between the ENTITY and the Godborn
Afro: The Influence of the Entity over the Godborn
Kjos: The Black Rose/Amélie Épine/The Journal of Agatha Thorne
FullWhore: Forgotten Man
The ENTITY enters the Sol System.
During this era, the ENTITY uses it’s vast array of technology to accelerate the evolution of a bipedal primate living in primitive bands across several continents, making it into the dominate lifeform on Earth.
During this era, the ENTITY closely watched the first of the Godborn, sculpting their existence. Plagued with disappearances, unexplained deaths, forgotten pasts, and inherited futures. The grafting of the human genome and the splicing of memories to serve a singular purpose.
Industry. Transportation. Information. Communication. The world grows smaller as corporations grow bigger and governments make new alliances and rivalries after the world wars.
The Godborn of this era enjoy anonymity from public knowledge; roaming the nighttime streets and wildernesses of the world, individually or in small groups, seeking to eliminate the shadows and specters born of the enemy.
During this era humanity begins to study and advance the training of a special caste. Very rarely among the humans one will possess unique powers to rival all science known to mankind. Of those born with these innate powers almost all are female.
Some individuals and organizations, beginning to become aware of the truth about the ENTITY’s influence on mankind and perceiving danger in it’s intentions, start to fight against the ENTITY and the God Born.
A cataclysm see’s much of humanity destroyed. Governments, cultures and organizations adapt to the new Earth.
The ENTITY’s ship, after having traveled for decades, makes its official entry into the Sol system by executing an acceleration maneuver around neptune. Sensor logs had confirmed months ago what could now be seen visually by the ship’s crew. Above the small bright light of the star at the center of this system could be seen patches of glowing blue and green.
The creature, impossibly large, had by this point, spread its massive bulk over most of the inner system, maximizing its surface area around the star for efficient energy absorption, forming long tentacles from its amorphous bulk to reach into the closest celestial bodies for raw material.
Using its new found velocity, the ship adjusts course and heads directly toward the yellow dwarf and the creature.
Ship damaged, critically injured and on the run from its assailants, the ENTITY steers its craft towards the closest refuge: Earth. Crashing to the surface, the entity pushes its ship underground, seeking safety and concealment.
Having suffered extensive damage, many rooms in the entity’s ship, once closed off from the crew, now become accessible. The surviving crew of 20 (out of 100’s find themselves released from the entity’s influence as they struggle to escape the damaged ship. They stumble into a previously forbidden portion of the ship.
Entering the room, the commander and her crew discover a large grid consisting of glowing spheres fixed atop metal pillars. While many of the spheres are intact, others have suffered damage from the crash. In a brief moment of clarity, Hobb tells the crew to take as many spheres as they can. They find the only way to remove a sphere is to rip the thin metal pillars from the ship. They flee, arms full, leaving the entity’s influence behind them.
Pulsating with light, and radiating through them like the sun, the ENTITY finally locked eyes with the bipedals. Their eyes drinking in its knowledge. Days or even weeks passed, they did not remember, as they drank in what the ENTITY had to tell them, until they were wells of understanding. And then, with a flicker, they were left alone, and looking about they decided they would build a place where they could gather.
The ENTITY realizes the rogue crew and their loathsome thralls had established themselves so firmly in Babylon, the great tower city and humanity’s original gathering place, that it no longer enjoys absolute influence over mankind. The ENTITY coerces his servants, the godborn, to destroy the city and scatter humanity in an effort to reassert that influence again.
Amar Utu (Marduk in the first tongue) takes a position high along the cliffs near the city of her birth, the tower rising into the sky above. Against her will, she lifts Imhullu overhead and summons a wrathful storm strong enough to obliterate the tower and the surrounding metropolis.
The survivors, finding the land now desolate, leave the ruins of Babylon, and establish smaller communities in distant lands. Babylon and it’s true history become lost to the millennia.
Agatha James, a middle school student, after experiencing several incidents of disappearing from view, has evocative dreams and intuitions that lead her to a group of her middle school peers, also godborn, led and mentored by an older godborn, Fleur Dubois.
Fleur has spent her short adult life and much of her childhood secretly fighting the shadows, strange ethereal creatures that enthrall human hosts and sap their life energy, causing harm and mass havoc.
Fleur, following generations of godborn tradition, accepts those led to her by the ENTITY, helping them develop their powers and use them in the ENTITY’s campaign to defend humanity against the loathsome shadows.
Testing and training for advanced humans started with Star-Life (a multinational team of scientists) lead by scientist Brom Boucher. Though a tragic accident happened, causing the facility to implode, leaving a 200ft deep crater where the facility once stood. None survived. The event and the people involved were scrubbed from the public record in an attempt to quell public outcry and allow for further research in the field of human advancement.
Godborn candidates are identified at a young age through mandatory blood tests that all children must undergo before starting school. After primary/elementary school, all children found to exhibit godborn qualities are sent to a special academy where they are taught by godborn professors to further test and hone their abilities. Godborn children all share basic preternatural abilities that begin to develop between the ages of 12-14 for most subjects. The first few years of this secretive and highly competitive Godborn Academy focuses on teaching the student to understand, control, and utilize the full extent of their inherent powers. The highest performing students, upon turning 16 years of age, are given the opportunity to undergo a ceremony where they “commune” with THE DIVINE (the name that the schoolmasters give to THE ENTITY).
During this ceremony, THE ENTITY rewrites the hidden alien portion of their DNA to grant them one or more unique/specialized abilities and, unbeknownst to the subject, creates a symbiotic link with the godborn whereby THE ENTITY can read the mind of the the godborn, affect their emotional state, suppress undesirable thoughts/speech, and plant ideas into their consciousness.
Valorie Presley recently turned fourteen. Her parents have taken her out to a special dinner at her favorite restaurant. Her blood tests have come back and well.. Valorie is told to say good bye to her school friends because she is going to a special school on the East coast. A government sponsor will take care of Valorie and ensure her safety while she adjusts to her new surroundings.
After a series of injuries and deaths at the school, Valerie notices several girls exhibiting powers beyond their normal capabilities, many of which have recently beaten her in competitions. Her ego is wounded, leading her to obsess over these girls. Fueled by spite and resentment, she begins covertly following her competitors during and after school hours. While stalking these girls, Valerie is led to the photography club dark room located in the basement of the school. She then notices their suspicious behaviors relating to these tragedies. None of them seem shocked or upset by the deaths or injuries. In fact many of the girls seem to be joking about it in private. Eventually her spying leads to witnessing a strange ritual involving glowing spheres on thin metal rods that shoot energy through their bodies.
Rafael Boucher rises to prominence as a real estate mogul, and spaceship engine supplier. He is well loved for his philanthropic efforts and is covertly supplying the ENTITY with means to travel the Sol System, resources, and underground political power. He marries a beautiful young woman, Au Epine, and she gives birth to a daughter. The daughter is cherished by both parents, and her father raises her to be his successor. His daughter, Amelie, knows that their joint business/political ventures profit the ENTITY, and resents her family’s involvement. Owning no assets herself, she seeks a way to undermine the ENTITY using her influence over her father’s organizations.
Rafael Boucher, under the direction of the ENTITY, is directed to continue experimenting on his wife Au, even after their first child is a failure, with the goal of producing natural Godborn in the human genome without the need of direct contact with the ENTITY itself. Their second child, [name] is a success.
A clandestine organisation known as “The Black Rose” rises up to combat the ENTITY. Seen as a terrorist group by Earth’s inhabitants (who trust in the God Born and their power), the group works to disrupt the plans of the ENTITY through violence and fear. The Black Rose is secretly led by billionaire philanthropist, Amélie Épine (granddaughter of a fallen MAGICAL GIRL).
World Leaders hold a special council where they speak with members of the god born. As the event unfolds over several days, leaders come out time to time to give their speeches. “We must trust in these special people. We must follow their leadership.” Followed up with new laws, “for the good of all,” including mandatory blood tests of every citizen. Every man woman and child was to be tested, and retested. High value candidates would be forced to produce promising offspring, or the government would now take the means to create those they deem necessary.
A civil war erupts among the God Born. As the Black Rose strikes and God Born begin to die at the hands of their sisters the twenty mightiest God Born assembled at the college form the Savior Corp. As they have no way of determining who has sided with the Black Rose terrorist group they decide to execute all God Born not included within their ranks. Each of the twenty has three students and seek to execute all other competition for the Entity’s power and attention. They fear if the Entity were destroyed by Black Rose then all the God Born would lose their powers. These God Born believe the Entity created them to control and shepherd humanity.
The Black Rose develops Oleander-VX9 serum (known by agents as “The Mother’s Tears), a chemical weapon that specifically targets and destroys alien DNA of THE ENTITY and his “godborn” daughters. The substance is also deadly to human and, with the ease of stable airborne and waterborne distribution, could be used as a Doomsday Weapon that would destroy enemy and ally alike.
Navigator Hobb made the final trajectory calculations and sent them to the pilot. It was the quickest route available to them, but it would still be several weeks until they came into engagement range with the creature, despite the velocity Hobb had gained by staying close to the large gravitational bodies in the outer parts of this solar system.
Looking up from his work station, Hobb looked at the main display. The commander had brought up a model of their last engagement with the creature and seemed to be discussing tactics with the ENTITY. Of course the ENTITY wasn’t on the bridge, no one actually knew where the ENTITY existed on the ship, in fact, most of the crew treated the ship with a certain reverence, as if the ship were the ENTITY. Today, as it most often did, the ENTITY had manifested itself as a small orange sphere of light; pulsing rhythmically as it slipped through the air around the commander.
The mystique surrounding their benefactor was increased by the fact that the ENTITY knew things. It always knew everything that happened on the ship before it was reported. It knew how crewmen were going to act beforehand. It knew how stellar phenomena worked before the crew studied them. It knew details about undiscovered lifeforms. It had even known to come to this system to find this creature once they had started tracking it after their last encounter, despite little data recovered during its escape. The captain and crew were the operators of this ship and had been for as long as Hobb could remember; but the esoteric nature of the ENTITY lent an almost religious quality to their missions and routines.
Hobb approached the main display at the center of the bridge, now presenting their most recent scans of the creature, several overlays indicating targets near the center of the organism where it seemed to glow the brightest. The small form of the commander stood gesturing to the display, the orange light of the ENTITY casting a soft glow around her in the dimly lit bridge. She was speaking: “Yes, we have made improvements to our defense response,” “I believe that we can make the extractions more quickly this time,” “I am worried about our exit strategy, remember those ‘things’ it sent last time, we lost valuable crew in the attack,” “ I’ll make the appropriate adjustments, ‘preserver’ that thing is faster than it looks.” The ENTITY hummed periodically in response to the captain before finally fading away.
After the ENTITY’s departure, The commander immediately turned in Hobb’s direction, “Navigator, I need you to head to the cargo level and begin preparing several hundred high energy containment pods. I will send you the specifications…”
(I am imagining the crew look like the little blue yordles from league of legends, poppy specifically)
“Dr. Boucher, test 14-D is ready to begin. The subject has begun to emit above the 144mHz resonance requested.”
Large dark eyes darted up from black rim glasses. “Already? Has she begun to speak?” Dr. Boucher stood and dawned a second coat before making his way down the hall alongside his assistant.
“No sir, not yet.”
The two of them rounded a corner to enter the walkway above a large courtroom of science. A large bank of energy cells surrounding a dais and throne where sits a tall woman connected to the chair. Wires and tubes feed between the two of them until it is hard to tell one from another. Dr. Boucher approaches the form upon the dais. “Tell me sister, can you see it?” he whispers.
“I do! I see the pattern brother! I see it ALL! The entity cannot hide from me, not from the gifts it has given me.”
“What does it want with us? With you? Why is it here? Can you see what it wants?”
“I can see it. The entity. It is retreating from me. But I can follow it.”
A few beeps from the nearby console sounded, warning of an increase in heart rate and Dr. Boucher noticed the resonance frequency was now aligning under 144mHz. “Sorcha come back. It’s not worth the risk.”
“I can see the way forward. It’s scared of me, the entity, it is trying to make itself small and hidden. There are so many colors surrounding me now. So beautiful.”
“No, come back Sorcha. You’re aligning too deeply with the Entity now. You’re below 120mHz, it is taking over the system!” Dr. Boucher’s voice was panicked now.
“I can stop it right now Drake. I see it. It’s just a pinprick of darkness here in the infinite energy around me. It’s so bright, but I can just reach out and..”
After the long week that makes up Magical Girl training, on top of all the regular schooling, and family life, there is always one place you can count on finding your favorite magic girls: Don Fietti’s Ice Cream Parlor. Every Friday at 3:24pm the girls file in for their favorite scoop of Don Fietti’s Neapolitan Ice Cream.
“But you had that last week!?” the parlor boy squeaked, “and the week before that! AND THE WEEK BEFORE THAT!!… Ohhh, my poor brain can’t take it anymore, what is it with you all and Neapolitan ice cream?!”
After laughing to themselves for what felt like several minutes, the girls all responded in unison, “We don’t know! We just love it so much!” there really was no other flavor that tasted just as good as Don Fietti’s Neapolitan Ice Cream, and to the girls there didn’t really need to be a good reason to enjoy such delicious ice cream!
Excerpt from the Journal of Agatha James (Thorne):
“I am reborn…”
“I expected my 16th birthday to be like every other birthday that I have had at the Academy…a brief phone call from my Mother and Step-Father, a cupcake with dinner in the cafeteria, and a half-hearted song sung by my classmates during morning announcements. Instead, I was awakened early this morning by Headmistress Meadowlark with the best news I have ever received. After 4 years of endlessly fighting to be the best in my class and to win every competition, I was finally chosen for The Ceremony.
My morning was spent in preparation for my exciting new life. Excused from classes for the day, I had a celebration breakfast with the professors in the Faculty House where they all congratulated me on my accomplishments and my new place amongst the elite. My belongings, such as they are, were moved from the Initiates House to my new, private room in the House of the Chosen. I was fitted for new school uniforms (marking my new station), and was sent to a hidden spa on campus (YES…WE HAVE A SPA!!!) for a makeover. It is an incredible feeling, after so long, to wear makeup and to choose how to wear my hair again. After years of being forced into a tight ponytail, I suggested a hot pink mohawk. The stylist, thankfully, helped me settle on a modern, layered cut with a few gentle ringlets to give me added volume until my hair grows out a bit more. I think I could get used to this!
By evening, I could hardly contain my nerves. The Temple of the Divine behind the Academy grounds is, of course, completely off limits (by penalty of death), and is guarded around the clock. Only the Chosen are allowed to enter and, tonight, I saw and experienced things that few others will ever know.
When I first came to the academy and began being taught about THE DIVINE, I had some serious doubts. Vaguely worded lessons about some “all powerful” entity who imparts us with great power and a higher calling seemed like a fairy tale designed by the professors to keep young godborn girls in line. I never imagined that I, Agatha James, would commune with THE DIVINE itself.
I’m not allowed to talk about The Temple, The Ceremony, or what happened to me there. In truth, I don’t think that I could put it into words. How do you describe touching the heart of god…of eternity itself. There are no words…
I will never forget the way the spheres of light glowed. The way it felt like every cell in my body was torn apart and then reformed in a new configuration. The way power flowed through my body and the way that my mind brushed against the spark of THE DIVINE. I am beginning to love what it loves, hate what it hates, and I feel an exhilarating connection to the mission it has for me. I can feel THE DIVINE even now…it is with me constantly.
The Ceremony granted me a priceless gift. I can make my body completely invisible as easily as flipping a light switch. As the Headmistress and the Sisters helped me to test my new gift, we discovered that my clothing and everything I am holding vanishes with me as well. It feels a bit like reaching out with my mind and bending the light and shadow into a cloak around myself. When I vanished, I could still interact with the world around me but I made no sound (no matter how loud I yelled). I can now attack our enemies out of thin air without being seen or heard. Headmistress Meadowlark told me, with joyful tears in her eyes, that I am doubly blessed…my gift is completely unique amongst The Chosen. She has named me ‘Wraith.’
The only thing that worries me, besides the intense pain I felt during the Ceremony, is this: When I am invisible…I can no longer feel THE DIVINE. I am utterly alone in a sea of silence. It is both exhilarating and terrifying.
Tomorrow morning, I will awaken as a member of the elite who will never again have to fight against my sisters to show my worth. I am chosen. I cannot wait to see what happens next.”
Valorie grit her teeth jumping from one platform to another before leaping back to the track for the rest of her run. Valerie knew she was way out ahead of the others, perhaps a record at this rate she mused. A fellow school girl, Sarah, straddled the track ahead of her. She was wearing a green shirt band and hat to denote she was working with the instructors and would harass any students taking this route. Without notice the girl pushed her hands out toward Valorie expelling a gush of water from thin air. Valorie snorted with laughter as she turned the amateur attack upon itself, creating instead a gentle spray that cooled her down as she ran through. “Better luck next time Sarah!”
“How do you do that? That’s not fair!”
But Valerie was already well on her way again. She would never tire or lose her strength. She could see it, the energy, it was all around her all around everyone and everything. It was always there just waiting to be used and it seemed like she was the only one to notice it.
Valerie was nearing the next obstacle, the hanging balls. Four foot diameter balls suspended above the schools pond. They would spin and sway as you tried to cross over them on top of it being a well known ambush spot. But it was also the fastest way to the finish and Valerie could practically hear the cheers of her fellow students already.
Left foot, right foot, one, two, suddenly a blast of air from beneath propelled her off her feet. Knocked a meter high Valerie quickly regained her senses and tumbled right way around to land on the third ball. Half way across now but another blast of air was coming in fast. Valerie saw the strings of energy bulging around the air blasting towards her. Just need to pull the right thread and…. voila! Just like that the air separated into a harmless puff. Sergeant Evans was the air instructor but where was she? A third blast came and this time Valerie could see it erupting out from the pond below. “Bah, of course the air instructor would have mastered holding her breath, probably for hours. How obvious now she thought about it. Oh well just another thread away from the finish line.” This time Valerie clutched two ends of the energy coming towards her and flung it off towards the fifth ball in the chain cutting through its tether on one side. It crashed into the pond below, forcing Ellis to swim out of its path. “And by the time she’s in position to launch another attack I’ll be long gone,” Valerie was wearing a smile now from ear to ear looking back, “This is almost too easy Sergeant!”
Only a few more miles to the finish line now, she could practically taste it. “Left foot, right foot, one, two, almost there just keep going Val,” she thought. The sound of cheering students could just be heard in the distance now. Valerie started thinking up her victory speech. “I’d like to thank my fellow students, the instructors, and mainly myself. I am SO awesome!”
“Just where do you think you’re going?”
“Huh? Crap,” Valerie thought. Some new instructor had caught her off guard while she’d been caught up in her own head. “Well, time to teach the newbie who’s top student here.” She whirled to one side preparing for the worst only to see, a man?
Males were exceedingly rare at school. Only god born attended or were allowed to instruct and everyone knew men couldn’t handle the gift. The few to develop powers at all were pathetically weak.
He came in fast with a right hook and uppercut combo. Straight to the brutish physical stuff men were known for she supposed. Duck, spin, kick. She landed a low kick to the knee and followed it with an uppercut of her own. Each of her blows enhanced by the energy she’d taken from the previous two encounters. He stumbled back as Valerie took the opportunity to follow up with her own gust of air putting him on his butt. Confidently she stood over him, “You almost cost me a record time.”
From the ground the man pushed his hand out towards her flinging dirt. A predictable attack from that position. She was already reaching out where she would find and pull its thread loose, only no thread appeared. There was no power in it at all and Valerie took a clump of dirt right in the face. “Pfft, wha? Pfftt, pleph aghh,” She felt a sudden pressure in her gut as he must have kicked her. Blind and doubled over in pain, “Asshole! Pfftgh, I’m only seventeen,” Valerie weazed at him. But he wasn’t talking back. The man grabbed her arm and although she knew she would be many times stronger he simply out maneuvered her. A quick twist and pull slammed her face first into the dirt, this time most of it going in her mouth. Restraining her wrists behind her back now he spoke, “The track is not about showing off or setting records. It is to teach you about survival. The enemy will not go easy on you and neither shall I.” Valerie lay there laboring to get a good breath in past all the dirt and thinking to herself, “Oh how I am going to get even with you, whoever the hell you are.”
It is a sweltering summer evening in THE CITY. Waves of heat distort the image of busy streets clogged with traffic, crowded cafes, and children playing in the spray of a corner fire hydrant. The sunset reflects off the countless Western facing windows of Thorne Tower making it look like a magnificent pillar of fire rising above the urban sprawl. The heartbeat of the city…the sounds of honking horns, laughter, shouting, running engines, and music is everywhere. But, at this moment, 20 meters under Thorne Tower, the sounds of the city fade away and are replaced with the crushing silence of anticipation. Here, in a secret sublevel that doesn’t appear on any blueprints, a long awaited meeting is about to take place. The bright, clinical appearance of the hallways, laboratories, and workstations on this sublevel stand in stark contrast to a large black door at the end of the hall. Behind this door lies a dimly lit room, silent, forbidden, and sacred. The room is dominated by a large, circular table made from black stone surrounded by thirteen chairs. Eleven of these chairs already hold silent occupants, each wearing dark robes with hoods that obscure their countenances in the semi-darkness. The largest and most magnificent chair has been painted black and intricately carved to look like thorn covered vines sprouting delicate roses. This throne is, as always, unoccupied. In front of this high seat, an old, weathered journal lies on a tabletop lectern. The room’s single overhead light shines down like a spotlight upon it’s well-worn pages. The journal is opened to an entry written in beautiful, flowing handwriting with a heading that reads “21st August.” A figure in a dark robe that has been embroidered with roses enters the room in silence and sits in the only other open chair (to the right of the empty throne). Taking the journal from the lectern, Her deep, musical voice shatters the silence. “Sisters, we stand on the precipice of a silent war. Many trials lay ahead of us and countless lives will be lost as a result of our efforts. I call upon you now to remember why our cause is just! One hundred years ago on this very night, my grandmother wrote these words in her journal while fleeing for her life. Hear them, my sisters…for they are our battle cry.” The hooded figure lowers her head to the aged pages and begins to read aloud.
“I died today. My sisters, the only family I have ever known, will soon bury an empty coffin and Agatha will be gone in all but memory. I watched them crying and holding one another from across the square. My final resting place, like all the others, will not bear my true name. A white marble marker etched with the words ‘The Wraith” will be placed over my empty grave. My heart has shattered and nothing, not even time, will stitch the pieces back together.
It appears that my godborn ability to make myself invisible can even hide me from THE ENTITY itself. Over the past months, I have become increasingly concerned that my well-intentioned sisters and I have been deceived. The more we use our gifts, the harder it is for us to speak openly about THE ENTITY. Even now, I find it extremely difficult to focus while writing these words that question it’s motives. I have come to believe that our gifts bind us to THE ENTITY and make us blind servants to it’s will. We have lost the ability to resist…but have not lost the ability to run.
Invisibly, I infiltrated The Source where the Heightening Ritual amplifies and evolves the gifts of the godborn. The site isn’t a holy temple as it appears to be. The Source is built upon the remnants of an ancient ship! I cannot express the horror I felt in seeing the true face of THE ENTITY. I entered its hidden lair and stood near enough to touch it with my hands. Try as I may, the power that THE ENTITY still exerts over me will not permit me to describe what I saw or learned there. This, however, I can write with unwavering certainty; the creature is no friend to our people and is not here to save this world. The opposite is true. My path is clear.
The very gifts that have allowed me to fake my death and free myself from THE ENTITY’S direct control still bind me. I cannot resist, I cannot warn, and I cannot fight for my sisters. For now, I will hide myself away in a new place with a new name. I was one of the ‘godborn’ but we who have been tainted by THE ENTITY must not be allowed to inherit this world. I will find ways to bestow gifts on those who are born of woman and, one day, I will raise up an unbridled army to do what I cannot.”
The figure next to the throne raises her face and returns the journal reverently to the lectern. She stands to her feet and extends her arms to those seated around the table as if bestowing a blessing. “You, my sisters, are her legacy and the fruits of her efforts. We are the resistance that her enslavement would not allow her to muster. We will strike from the shadows and bring THE ENTITY and it’s servants to their knees. You know what you must do. The Black Rose grows in the moonlight.”
Without a word, the entire assembly rises from their seats and exits the room into the world beyond.
Standing before the bay window of her executive office atop Thorne Tower, Amélie Épine quietly surveys a city that belongs to her in all but name. In the golden light of the setting sun, her slight frame casts a dark distorted shadow over the office floor behind her. Patience has never been Ms. Épine’s strong suit and her frantic anticipation for the results of this morning’s experiment has been fraying at her nerves for hours. She startles and spins around reactively at the sound of a knock on her office door. Amélie quickly composes herself and sits down behind an impressive desk made from mirrored glass and steel. Her design team assured her that the desk would project a sense of elitism, power, and self confidence. Somehow, it has always made her feel small.
She places her left hand atop her grandmother’s battered, leather journal which is laying reverently on the corner of her desk. Physical contact with her legacy always seems to ground her. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before looking back toward the door.
Trying to keep the excitement out of her voice, Amélie deactivates the door’s magnetic lock and says “Come.” A moment later, a tiny, shriveled woman in a white lab coat shuffles silently into the room. This woman, easily less than 5 feet tall with her back stooped forward in arthritic rigor, has an ancient quality to her appearance and supports her unsteady gait with a thin, bamboo cane. Her sparse white hair is tied up in a tight bun that seems to also pull the loose skin of her face tightly over her skull which turns her visage into a nearly featureless mask. Apparently, the years have robbed the old woman of the strength to stand up straight as she turns her head and body to the side to look at Amélie over the surface of the desk. She gives her employer a toothless grin and places a small steel case on the edge of the desk. Without a word, she turns to leave.
“Does it work?” Amélie calls out to the slowly retreating woman.
Without turning or halting her protracted journey back to the door, the old woman responds “You’ll have to be the judge of that, dear. I merely mix the medium. Beauty and truth exist solely in the hands of an artist.” The ancient woman closes the door behind her and the magnetic lock engages with a mechanical click.
Amélie eyes the case warily as if expecting it to move on its own accord. She begins to reach for the small steel box but hesitates as her hand begins shaking violently. Taking another deep breath, she opens the old journal next to her and begins anxiously flipping through it’s pages until she finds an entry labeled “23rd December.” Willing her grandmother’s words calm her, she begins to read.
“My research into THE ENTITY has led me to a truth that I cannot endure. I walk through this world adrift, a wounded abomination who hates my own flesh. The horror of this revelation has carved out my heart and left me without solid ground to stand upon.
My mother is a devout nun who has dedicated her entire life to faith, poverty, and servitude at Ste. Catherine’s convent upstate. She took her vows when she was 14 years old and was already a cloistered sister when I was conceived six years later. Since no children may live in the convent, I was sent to live with my Aunt and Uncle in the city. As a child, when I would visit my mother on Sundays, I would ask her about the identity of my father and she would always reply that he had come to her in a dream and bewitched her senses. She did not know that her union with him had been real until she felt the tiny flutter of my growing limbs inside of her. I began to suspect the truth long before I was brave enough to investigate further.
I have sent trusted acolytes into the world to interview all of the living mothers of the godborn. I have read countless letters, diaries, and manuscripts from as far back as our history of the godborn has been recorded. The stories they tell are all eerily similar. A beautiful man has entered the life of these women for a brief and passionate affair. Each woman has been left pregnant and in a confused, dreamlike state. They all describe this man with words like enthralling, bewitching, and intoxicating. While very few physical descriptions of the man have ever been recorded, the mother of a 5 year old girl showing early signs of godborn aptitude somehow captured a blurred image of his countenance while taking a selfie on her phone. I know this man’s face.
He has taken a seat across from me on the train when I visited my mother as a young girl. I have seen him at small street corner cafes sipping coffee while I walked to school. He was in the waiting room at the doctor’s office where my blood was taken and I was declared godborn. I have seen his face in countless places over the course of my life. He is always watching me with dark, inscrutable eyes. Something in my mind prevented me from remembering his face until I saw that blurred photo and I realized that I have been stalked since my birth by my father. Not just my father, the father of every godborn who has yet lived.
It is HIM. THE ENTITY has cloaked himself in human form and sired countless generations of half-breed daughters. We are not human. We are a part of the disease that is devouring this world. My research has revealed something else as well. His union with human women is not driven by passion or the laws of sexual attraction. Each of the godborn has a mother who was exceptional in some way. Artists, scientists, writers, and dancers. They were always the best in their craft. THE ENTITY does not defile women at random. It is SELECTIVE BREEDING! He has taken the best of our women and brought forth a race of mongrels with the power to inherit the Earth. I shudder to think what machinations my sisters and I have unknowingly brought to fruition for our dark father who stalks us from the shadows.
We are not godborn, we are the daughters of the devil himself.
This morning at the market, I noticed a man sitting on the bench across the street. His dark eyes and rictus grin struck terror into my very soul. He has found me! How could I have been so vain to believe that I could hide from THE ENTITY?
I am THE ENTITY…
I will hide this journal for my daughter to find and throw myself from the top of my husband’s office building before sunset. I hope that you will forgive me, my love. You alone, my sweet Au, have made my life worth living. I pray that the god of my mother will claim me. If not, I pray that the blood of my father will stain the streets of this city and I will purge his contagion from my broken frame. My father must not reclaim me as his own.
Amélie lifts her eyes from the final entry of the journal with burning resolve in her eyes. She opens one of the drawers in her desk and produces a silk scarf and a small ceremonial dagger from within. Placing them next to the journal, she reaches for the steel case on the edge of her desk and opens it to find a small, glass vial of clear liquid within. Without a moment’s hesitation, she takes the hilt of the dagger in one hand and grips the exposed blade with the other before pulling the blade sharply downward. Rivulets of crimson stream between her tightly gripped fingers until the surface of her desk is covered in a pool of fresh blood. Wrapping the silk scarf tightly around her injured hand to staunch the bleeding, Amélie Épine pulls the stopper out of the glass vial and upends the liquid contents onto the puddle of gore. Instantly, her blood begins to boil and turn black as acrid fumes fill the office around her. With a haunted smile, she presses an intercom button on her desktop phone.
“Antionette, call my roses back to the garden. We now hold the power to kill a god.”