Rise Of The General's Forgotten Son

Chapter 4

 

Elijah hesitated for a moment, staring at the foreign number on the screen. Something about it felt off, but curiosity got the better of him. Slowly, he pressed the "answer" button and brought the phone to his ear.

 

"Hello?" he said, his voice wary.

 

Almost immediately, a deep voice on the other end responded. "Hello, Elijah."

 

Elijah frowned. "Who’s this?" he asked, a mix of confusion and irritation in his tone.

 

There was a brief silence, just a few seconds, but it felt much longer. Then the voice spoke again, calm and deliberate. "Happy Birthday, Elijah."

 

Elijah froze, his heart skipping a beat. "Happy Birthday?" he echoed, shock washing over him. "How do you know my name?" His mind raced—what birthday? He hadn’t celebrated his birthday in years, not since everything fell apart.

 

The voice on the other end continued, as if it hadn't heard his confusion. "Happy 21st birthday, son. Daddy and Mommy wish you the best in life.”

 

The voice on the other end continued, as if it hadn't heard his confusion. "Happy 21st birthday, son. Daddy and Mommy wish you the best in life."

 

Gasp! Elijah’s entire body tensed, his mind reeling. His dad? His mom? How was this possible? He had grown up as an orphan, believing his parents were dead. His head started spinning, and he had to steady himself on a nearby lamppost as the rain pattered softly around him. His pulse quickened, and his breathing grew shallow.

 

Anger flared in his chest, his confusion giving way to suspicion. This has to be a scam, he thought, tightening his grip on the phone. "Whoever you are," Elijah said, his voice shaking, "this is not my birthday. And my parents are dead. Don’t call me again with your scam!"

 

His heart pounded, and he clenched his jaw, ready to hang up as anger surged through him.

 

“Hold on, hold on, son,” the voice said urgently, cutting through Elijah’s anger. “I know you must be mad at me, but please, just hold on.”

 

Elijah’s heart was racing, his grip on the phone tightening as he struggled to make sense of what was happening. 

 

“Who are you? Which son?” He demanded, his voice sharp. His head was still spinning, and the rain wasn’t helping. This had to be some cruel trick, a sick joke.

 

“I called to wish you a birthday, Elijah,” the voice said calmly, almost as if explaining something simple. “The limit we set for you is finally up since you’re now 21. Is your birthday not on the 5th of October? Kindly confirm the date and month.”

 

Elijah’s throat tightened, and he found himself swallowing hard. What the hell is going on? His thoughts were a mess, but his chest tightened as the man’s words sank in. That date... it was indeed his birthdate. But how could this stranger know?

 

His pulse quickened as he croaked out, “Yes… it’s my birthdate. So what?” His voice was edged with frustration, but beneath it all, a creeping fear was settling in. How could someone know something so personal?

 

"I understand," the voice continued, calm and certain. "Check your date. It’s probably still the 4th there, a few hours more to the 5th. But you know, in the United States, with the different time zone, it’s already the 5th here—12 a.m. It’s your birthday, Elijah."

 

Elijah’s heart skipped a beat as he quickly pulled out his phone, checking the date. Sure enough, it was still the 4th, only a few hours until midnight. He hadn’t even realized he was that close to turning 21. For a moment, he stood frozen in disbelief.

 

"You... yo... you, who are you?" Elijah’s voice wavered as the question tumbled out.

 

"I’m your dad, son," the voice replied, deep and steady.

 

"My... my dad?" Elijah stammered, his heart racing. "You must be joking, right? What’s your name?"

 

"Marcus Steel," the voice replied, this time deeper, more resonant.

 

Elijah frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it right away. His eyes wandered, trying to remember why the name sounded familiar, until they landed back on the posters he had just seen moments earlier. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the name again: General Marcus Steel. His body trembled slightly as the realization began to settle in.

 

"Which Marcus Steel?" Elijah asked, his voice now quieter, more fearful.

 

 

"There's only one Marcus Steel, and it's me, your dad, son. General Marcus Steel."

 

Boom!”

 

 It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck him. Elijah’s body weakened instantly, his knees nearly giving out as he clung to the nearby pole for support. His mind raced, spinning in a whirlwind of disbelief and confusion. General Marcus Steel? The name echoed in his head, louder and louder.

 

Even though Elijah had never personally known much about General Marcus Steel, he had always heard the stories. Everyone had. Marcus Steel was not just a general—he was one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the United States. His influence stretched far, his name carried weight, and here Elijah was, receiving a call from someone claiming to be him—claiming to be his father.

 

Elijah felt dizzy and overwhelmed. His breath quickened. He had spent his life thinking he was an orphan, barely scraping by, saluting this powerful man’s picture out of respect. And now? Now, this stranger claimed that they were blood? It felt impossible. Unbelievable.

 

He gripped the phone tightly, his mind still reeling, but he managed to compose himself. 

 

“Hey, which fraud are you?” His voice was sharper now, laced with anger. “Which General Marcus Steel are you claiming to be?”

 

There was a brief pause before the voice responded, calm and unbothered. “Look around you, Elijah. Are there no posters of me around, son? That’s me.”

 

Elijah’s heart raced as he glanced again at the posters, but the absurdity of it all hit him. Despite the shock, he let out a bitter laugh. 

 

“Do you think I’m a fool? You guessed my birthday, lied about being my dad when I’m an orphan, and now you’re claiming to be General Marcus Steel? The well-known general? The richest man in the U.S.? Haha! If you were him, then I’m also God,” he spat out angrily, his voice trembling with emotion.

 

There was a long sigh on the other end of the line, and the voice softened. “I knew it was going to be hard for you to believe, Elijah. What do you want me to do, son? Tell me.”

 

“Switch to FaceTime,” Elijah shot back, his frustration boiling over. “Let me see your fraud face.”

 

A moment later, the call switched; it was on FaceTime.