DESCENDANTS OF AZAZEL

Chapter Five: The Thing at the Windo

Chapter Five: The Thing at the Window

For a few seconds, nobody moved.

The room was completely dark.

Broken glass covered the floor beneath the window.

Cold air rushed into the living room, carrying the smell of rain and something else I couldn’t identify.

Something metallic.

Something old.

I stood behind my father, staring at the darkness beyond the shattered window.

I couldn’t see anything.

But I could hear it.

Thump.

A heartbeat.

Outside.

Thump.

My father’s shoulders tightened.

“Dad?”

“Stay behind me.”

His voice was quiet.

Too quiet.

Mom grabbed my arm.

“Jack, come with me.”

“Where?”

“Upstairs.”

I looked at Dad.

He wasn’t listening.

His eyes were fixed on the window.

“Dad?”

He slowly reached behind the cabinet.

I watched him pull something out.

A metal object.

At first, I thought it was a knife.

Then he unfolded it.

It looked like a short blade.

But there was something unusual about it.

The metal was dark.

Almost black.

And along its edge were strange markings.

I had never seen anything like it before.

“What is that?”

Dad didn’t answer.

He moved closer to the window.

“Stay where you are.”

“Dad—”

“Jack.”

His voice changed.

It wasn’t the voice of my father anymore.

It was the voice of someone giving an order.

I stopped.

Mom pulled me backward.

Then something moved outside.

A shadow crossed the opening.

Dad raised the blade.

“Show yourself.”

Nothing.

The rain began falling harder.

I could hear every drop hitting the roof.

Every drop.

Every breath.

Every heartbeat.

Then I heard another heartbeat.

Behind us.

I turned.

Nothing.

I looked toward the hallway.

Still nothing.

Then I realized something.

There were two heartbeats outside.

Not one.

Two.

“Dad…”

He turned slightly.

“What?”

“There are two of them.”

He stared at me.

“What did you say?”

“Two people.”

His face went pale.

“How do you know?”

I didn’t answer.

Because I didn’t know.

I just knew.

A low growl came from outside.

Mom grabbed my shoulder.

“Jack, upstairs. Now.”

I moved.

Then the window exploded inward.

A figure came through.

Dad moved faster than I had ever seen him move.

He grabbed the intruder and slammed him against the wall.

The impact shook the room.

I froze.

The man recovered almost immediately.

He was tall.

Maybe six feet.

Dark hair.

Dark clothes.

He looked young.

Maybe twenty-five.

But there was something wrong with his eyes.

They seemed almost silver in the darkness.

Dad raised the strange blade.

“Who sent you?”

The man smiled.

“Nobody.”

Dad swung.

The man dodged.

The blade struck the wall.

A piece of plaster broke away.

I stared.

That wasn’t a normal knife.

Dad attacked again.

The man caught his wrist.

For a moment, they stood completely still.

Then the man threw Dad across the room.

Dad hit the dining table hard.

“Dad!”

I ran toward him.

“Don’t!”

He pushed himself up.

“Stay back!”

The man looked at me.

His expression changed.

He stopped smiling.

“You’re him.”

I froze.

“What?”

He took one step toward me.

Dad immediately stood between us.

“Don’t look at him.”

The man laughed.

“So they were right.”

“Who are you?”

Dad’s voice was filled with anger.

The man ignored him.

His eyes remained on me.

“Do you know what you are?”

I swallowed.

“No.”

The man smiled.

“You will.”

Dad attacked him again.

This time, the man didn’t dodge quickly enough.

The blade cut across his arm.

He stumbled backward.

Blood appeared.

Dark red.

He looked at the wound.

Then at Dad.

“You actually have one.”

Dad didn’t respond.

The man touched the blood with his fingers.

The cut began closing.

I stared.

My mouth went dry.

The wound disappeared.

Not slowly.

Not like a normal injury healing.

It simply closed.

The man looked at me.

“You really don’t know.”

Dad stepped forward.

“Get out.”

The man smiled.

“You can’t protect him forever.”

Then he jumped.

Not backward.

Upward.

He caught the edge of the broken window frame and disappeared into the darkness.

I ran to the window.

He was gone.

I looked down.

We were on the first floor.

There was no way he could have jumped that far.

Unless—

No.

That was impossible.

I turned toward Dad.

“What was that?”

He stood completely still.

Mom was crying.

Not loudly.

Just silently.

I had never seen her look so afraid.

I looked between them.

“Who was he?”

Dad didn’t answer.

“Dad.”

Nothing.

“Who was he?”

Dad lowered the blade.

His hand was shaking.

Then he looked at me.

“You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

My stomach tightened.

“Find out what?”

He walked toward me.

“Jack…”

“What am I?”

He looked at Mom.

She nodded.

Dad took a deep breath.

“You are not completely human.”

The room seemed to disappear around me.

I stared at him.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“No.”

I laughed nervously.

“You’re joking.”

“I wish I were.”

Mom covered her mouth.

I stepped backward.

“What does that even mean?”

Dad didn’t answer.

“Am I sick?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“You’re different.”

“That doesn’t answer anything.”

“I know.”

“Then tell me!”

My voice echoed through the room.

Dad looked down.

“There are people in this world who aren’t what they appear to be.”

I thought about Maya.

Adrian.

The man outside.

The heartbeat.

The photograph.

“Nephilim.”

The word escaped my mouth.

Dad’s head snapped up.

“Where did you hear that?”

I stared at him.

“So it’s real?”

He didn’t answer.

“Dad.”

He looked away.

“Where did you hear that word?”

“Maya.”

Mom immediately looked at him.

“Who is Maya?”

“A girl from school.”

Dad’s expression changed.

“You need to stay away from her.”

“Why?”

“She isn’t human.”

The words hit me harder than everything else.

“What?”

Dad walked toward me.

“I don’t know how much she knows, but you cannot trust her.”

“Then who can I trust?”

Dad looked at me.

“Your mother.”

He paused.

“Me.”

I wanted to believe him.

I really did.

But there were too many questions.

“How long have you known?”

Dad didn’t answer.

“How long?”

“Since before you were born.”

My chest tightened.

“So you’ve been lying to me my whole life?”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“You were a child.”

“I’m still your child!”

“I was protecting you.”

“From what?”

He looked toward the broken window.

“From them.”

I looked outside.

The street was empty.

But I knew someone had been there.

Someone had come for me.

Someone knew what I was.

And apparently, my father had known all along.

⸻

I barely slept that night.

The broken window had been covered temporarily with a wooden board.

Dad checked the house three times.

Mom stayed downstairs.

Nobody explained anything else.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

The word kept repeating in my mind.

Nephilim.

I had heard it before.

But now it felt different.

Now it was connected to me.

I picked up my phone.

There were three new messages from the unknown number.

You finally asked.

Another appeared.

Now ask your father why he lied.

Then:

Ask him what happened to the others.

I stared at the screen.

The others?

I typed a response.

Who are you?

The message showed as delivered.

No reply.

I waited.

Nothing.

I put the phone down.

Then I heard something.

A whisper.

Very faint.

“Jack.”

I sat up.

My bedroom door was closed.

“Mom?”

Nothing.

I got out of bed.

I opened the door.

The hallway was empty.

Then I heard it again.

“Jack.”

This time, it came from downstairs.

I walked toward the stairs.

Halfway down, I stopped.

Dad was sitting alone in the living room.

He was holding the strange blade.

He wasn’t looking at it.

He was looking at an old photograph.

I recognized it.

The same photograph from my bedroom.

The boy.

The old building.

The people standing behind him.

I quietly walked down the stairs.

Dad didn’t notice me.

Or maybe he did.

I stood behind him.

“Who is he?”

Dad looked at the photograph.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then:

“Someone your family was supposed to forget.”

“What’s his name?”

Dad turned the photograph over.

There was another inscription on the back.

Different from the one I had seen.

A name.

Azazel.

I stared.

“That’s him?”

Dad shook his head.

“No.”

He looked at me.

“That’s who he came from.”

I felt a chill move through me.

“What does that mean?”

Dad stood.

“It means you need to understand something before you learn anything else.”

“What?”

“The stories you were taught about the Flood…”

He paused.

“They aren’t complete.”

⸻

The next morning, school felt unreal.

I hadn’t told Danny.

I hadn’t told Malcolm.

I hadn’t told Amy.

I didn’t know how.

Hey guys, apparently I’m not completely human and there’s a secret supernatural race living among us.

It sounded insane.

So I said nothing.

Danny met me at the entrance.

“You look horrible.”

“Thanks.”

“Did you sleep?”

“A little.”

He looked at me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

I smiled.

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe me.

We walked inside.

Students filled the halls.

Everything looked normal.

That was the strangest part.

People laughed.

Teachers carried books.

Someone was arguing about a basketball game.

A couple stood near the lockers holding hands.

Life continued.

Nobody knew that my world had changed overnight.

Then I saw Maya.

She stood at the other end of the hallway.

Our eyes met.

She immediately walked toward me.

“Jack.”

I stopped.

“You need to leave.”

“What?”

“Go home.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s coming.”

“Who?”

She looked around.

Then whispered:

“The man who came to your house.”

My heart stopped.

“How do you know about that?”

“I know.”

“Were you there?”

“No.”

“Then how?”

She looked frightened.

“Because everyone knows now.”

I stared at her.

“Everyone?”

She nodded.

I took a step closer.

“What am I?”

She looked directly into my eyes.

“You’re a Nephilim.”

The hallway seemed to go silent.

Even though hundreds of students were still talking around us.

I shook my head.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“You heard the heartbeat.”

I said nothing.

“You healed quickly.”

I looked at her.

“How did you know?”

“Because I was watching.”

“Why?”

“Because I was told to.”

“By who?”

She hesitated.

Then she said:

“The Elders.”

I didn’t understand.

“Who are the Elders?”

Before she could answer, a loud crash came from the gym.

Everyone turned.

A group of students began running toward the noise.

Teachers shouted for everyone to stay back.

Maya’s face went pale.

“No.”

“What?”

She grabbed my wrist.

“Don’t go there.”

I pulled my hand away.

“What happened?”

She looked toward the gym doors.

Then back at me.

“They found you.”

The gym doors suddenly burst open.

Students screamed.

A figure stepped through the smoke.

The same man from my house.

His eyes found mine immediately.

He smiled.

“Jackson Carter.”

Every student around us began backing away.

The man took one step forward.

“It’s time you learned what you are.”

Maya moved in front of me.

“You can’t take him.”

The man’s smile disappeared.

“You really think you can stop me?”

Then his eyes changed.

And for the first time, I understood that whatever was happening to me wasn’t a family secret anymore.

It was a war.

And somehow—

I was standing in the middle of it.