Lilith's Blessing 1

The sun shone on the expedition as the ladies fanned out and gathered material. Their three-month expedition, close to its finale. The women enjoyed the sun as much as possible. They gathered under a tree and ate lunch while two massive bald women protected them from any danger, with their axe like spears. Their dark facial tattoos stretched over their eyes and down their cheeks, but mismatched their pale skin.

While at lunch, the women chatted and mused about the scenery of their leader sat secluded under a tree and watched. She pulled out her notebook and sketched the moment, then noted their smiles.

One screeched as something poked her thigh. The warrior women turn to investigate after the blanket got turned over. The women, speechless and shocked they were unsure of what they saw. Their leader approached and clicked her pen a few times.

“Doc. what is that? It looks like a-a hand.”

The doctor knelt down and poked at the hand with her pen. It opened and exposed the inside that had a different tone than the outside. She had seen a hand like it before, but not buried underground. When she poked a second time, the hand closed and snapped her pen into pieces. The sudden movement startled everyone, forcing them all to take steps back. The doctor fell onto her butt. “That was my favorite pen.” She pouted, but looked at the two towering women that stood over her.

“Be careful and dig that person out.”

A few weeks later, the leader sat in an old wooden chair and adjusted herself. She brought her knees up to her chest and used her long blue skirt to cover her legs. As she clicked her pen, she thought, maybe she should fetch a blanket.

She leaning forward and examined every inch of his dark skin as he breathed. His deep black hair was thick but full of red strands. It twisted and spread everywhere from its origin spot on the back of his head.

After she set her feet on the floor, she leaned over him and touched his hair. She could not describe the feeling as it was soft and pushed back when she pressed it. Then ran her hand down his face. She smiled, as his beard was prickly and dry. It had a nostalgic feeling she could not place. Then she leaned back. The chair creaked as she tapped her pen against the armrest. Her imagination ran wild about the man before her.

The sound infiltrated his mind while he slept. Click-Click, Click-Click, Click-Click, Click-Click, Click-Click. The tapping never ceased. He wanted to sleep in. It was its day off. But the sound persisted and nagged at him like his alarm clock. He opened his eyes to dull gray walls that differed from the one he fell asleep under. When he tried to rise from the bed, his arms and legs felt restrained.

When the smell of mold hit his nose, he scrunched it and tugged at the restraints. He cursed out loud, as he did not see her next to him. The doctor’s mouth was wide open when he moved. She sat on the bed and leaned closer in her excitement. Her brown face and dark eyes behind circle glasses stared back at him. Her face was too close. He had to lean back. She stood up and clicked her pen, then tilted her head.

“Are you hungry?”

He protested, pulled against the restraints, and showed them to her as he raised his eyebrows at her. But the young lady sat down in her chair. She threw the back of her white lab coat over the sides of her chair. The oversized long jacket was too big for her petite frame. They both observed each other in a tense atmosphere.

She spoke first and mulled over the time they found him three weeks prior. His eyes lowered, as he did not believe her story. It had to be a joke; he told himself. Or a prank as he searched the room for the red light.

“Why am I here? Why these straps?”

The woman looked at him. “You might be dangerous.” then pointed her pen at him. He swayed his head back and forth as he looked at the petite woman. He understood the sentiment.

“Mo-Monique!” Her voice cracked. She seemed nervous. Monique, the clone, entered the room. She had to lower her head and turn sideways to get her gifts through the doorway. Once inside, she stood at attention and held her hands behind her back. Her forehead bulged out like a gorilla, with tattoos drawn around them that emphasized their strange appearance. The petite woman stood next to the massive framed clone and expressed her pride in its development of the newest model.

“We have 100,000 thousand so far and we just began production.” She proclaimed as she tapped the two liter bottle sized forearm of the clone. He shook his head and made a stupid face.

“Yup, all that makes sense to me.” He nodded in half agreement as the information flew over his head. “There’s an old saying, Don’t fuck with me. I won’t fuck with you.”

The large woman stood expressionless, eyes targeted him. Her eyes pierced him and he glared back. His imagination pictured a small man latched onto her as he tried to kiss her. He snickered to himself as she stared death at him. He laughed, as he was helpless if she attacked. “What you gonna do?”

The petite woman told the clone to unbuckle his shackles. The clone moved her eyes to her with a confused expression. She glared at the lab coat lady, but followed her order and rumbled to the bed. She towered over it with a snarl as she latched onto the leather straps and unbuckled them.

He massaged his wrists, then ankles as the straps left imprints on his dark skin. “Aye, Lab coat…."

She cut him off. “My name is Alexia, Dr. Alexia Lopez, not lab coat. What is your name? What empire do you hail?”

“Trevor Akori. Empire. I’m from. Seattle. Oh, I guess American.”

Alexia shook her head and put her hand across her face. “America has been gone for 2000 years.”

Alexia looked at him and squinted as she examined him. Something triggered a memory, but it was a haze. She shrugged it off as déjà vu and asked him what he remembered. Trevor thought, then shrugged, as he remembered nothing.

“Boy, answer her!”

The clone spoke. Her deep effeminate voice threw him off as he thought it could not speak. She glared at him with dark gray murderous eyes, upset about his disposition toward her superior.

“Boy? I 36 I ain’t no boy.” The words vomited out of his mouth before he could stop. His usual calm demeanor, violated by the predicament. The clone stepped toward him as she pushed Alexia aside. She raised her head-sized fist above her head and put a hole in the ceiling. Brown flakes broke apart and rained down on them. Dark red steam illuminated her body as the pieces disintegrated when it touched the steam. Trevor’s mouth opened as he had never seen someone emit red smoke.

His body tensed and prepared to move without mental input. As his mind went blank, he somehow knew one hit proved fatal. Speed would be his only advantage. His limited boxing knowledge and thoughts that conflicted and ravaged his mind, his body filled with confidence.

“You ain’t gon do shit.” It was like watching himself in a movie as words left his mouth as threats that he never spoken before. His fight reflexes kicked in, muscles with extra energy, and everything slowed down; he could see every muscle fiber in Mo’s body contract as her fist came down. Her posture, smell, and mana. He sensed it all.

“WAIT!” The clone froze. Her eyes wanted to fight and burned a hole through him. He could still see her mana, a yellowish red like wildfire. It billowed off to the ceiling like smoke. She composed herself, took a deep breath, and stepped back. Her mana’s burning fire subsided as she stood down. — Dr. Lopez stepped in front of the clone and pushed her toward the door.

Trevor thanked Alexia and expressed his dissatisfaction as they took it too far. Alexia looked at Trevor and insisted it was not a prank and he did not accept her answer. After the clone settled near the door, Alexia turned and clicked her ankles together and stuck out her right arm. She stated her name and rank… “…in the Simone City. The northernmost city chain in the west Million Lakes Territory.”

Trevor’s eyes sunk and his heart. “Nazi salute?”

Alexia disagreed and proclaimed it their national greeting. Their founder used it as a sign of respect. He shook his head, then smacked his forehead with his palm. “You use their salute but don’t know who they are? You fucking with me, right? Where’s the camera?”

Trevor looked around the room, checking every corner and hiding spot. There were no mirrors or small domes hiding cameras. Instead, his eyes then fixed on what Alexia held in her hands. A dark brown clipboard that looked well used with chipped edges, accompanied by a stack of paper. Not a tablet or any technology. The room had no light, only small orbs that hovered near the ceiling lit. “Hmm.

He processed his situation, then turned his attention to the ceiling. A river raged against the roof, which made him pause. He asked what river they were next to and Alexia told him it was hale and rain.

Trevor concentrated on the thuds and roaring. It seemed familiar. He had heard it somewhere before — downpours in the south when he visited cousins during the summer. They sat on the porch, sipped sweet tea, ate pecan pie and watched the rain come down in sheets and slam against the pavement. The smell of the rain, the steam, the humidity, and the baseball-sized hail created splendid memories he would never forget

“It’s normal this time of year.” Alexia broke him out of a memory.

“Normal rain? That doesn’t sound like normal rain,” Trevor trailed off, shifting his eyes toward Mo; she stared at him in the background, giving off violent intent. He shrugged, waved at her, and then turned them toward Alexia; their eyes locked on each other. Her eyes were irresistible and held his attention as they stared at each other. Mo cleared her throat and broke the silence.

“Am I a prisoner?” Trevor glanced toward the clone that blocked the door.

“Yes, y…”

Alexia snapped her fingers and whipped her head around, and cut the clone off before she finished. Her short black hair followed as she glared at the clone, pointed at the door and told her to leave. “Leave this room at once.” She repeated as the clone knocked on the door. Its latch unlocked, she exited, and closed it behind her. The mechanical lock clanked. Leaving them alone.

Alexia sat on the bed and explained how Trevor got there. The way they found him buried under a tree tangled in the roots. She added the age of the tree and how tangled up he was. When they cut it down, the rings inside showed it was at least 1700 years old. She stood up and touched his hands. She clasped them in her and intertwined her fingers with his.

Trevor was in a stupor; the time seemed impossible. He pushed back as the last thing he remembered “I ate, smoked a blunt, and fell asleep.”

Alexia’s eyes moved up and locked on to his. Her dark brown eyes reflected his as she asked him about the city he lived in. He talked about the congestion, traffic, and his workday. She listened and continued to hold his hand close to her chest. Trevor, unused to the act, wanted to pull his hand back but felt comfortable.

Alexia listened as Trevor finished his story. She added at the end, though, that Seattle fell into the sea 2000 years ago. “No one lives there now.”

Trevor refuted and swore he was there last night. He covered his mouth and almost stumbled onto the bed. Alexia helped him keep his balance before he fell. She sensed the shock and attempted to change the subject and hypothesized. It had to be a fluke; she said as she tried to comfort him.

Her face lit up when an idea sprung up. “You can breed with whoever you want.” She felt the words would make him feel better, because from her experience, sex always cheered up the male gender.

“What the fuck?!”

“Your hair and skin differ from all the males here. They are European, Asian, or Latin. We only have movies of your kind. You are a myth.”

What movies? He thought to himself. But keywords stuck in his mind like a sharp knife. My kind? The words did not sit right as he watched her shift in place. She seemed nervous. His eyes rose from the ground and settled on his crotch. “Is it true?”

Trevor picked up on her subtle hints when he followed her eyes. He glazed over as he dropped his head at her as anger filled his mind. “Why ya’ll think I want to fuck you all the time? I swear to god, every time I meet a chick, no matter who, she auto-thinks I wanna fuck, when I ain’t even thought of it yet.”

Alexia rambled about documentaries, and Trevor tried to stop her.

“What about the documentaries?”

“What documentaries?”

“The ones where your kind perform sexual acts on a woman together.”

Putting up his hands, Trevor was even more confused. “What the fuck you talking bout?”

Anything she said was causing more confusion. Trying to console him, she reached up to place her right hand on his shoulder like anyone else. “Don’t touch me. This must be a prank. You fucking with me, right?”

Alexia touched her lips with her pen as he locked his eyes on hers. His dark brown eyes pierced her to the depths of her soul, making her uncomfortable. Alexia peeked at Mo, hovering near the doorway. Everything about her changed as red steam flowed from every part of the clone’s body. Her irritation was visible and surprised Trevor. He was unsure if it was real or not.

Seeing Monique about to blow her top, Alexia shooed her away by waving her hand. Protested, she remained in place, but her gaze was toward Trevor. She ignored Alexia’s command and forced her to glare at her.

Once Monique left, Alexia sighed in relief, and mentioned they were outstanding warriors but hardheaded and didn’t listen. She turned back to Trevor, her heart skipped a beat. His intense gaze persisted. After that, she clicked her pen as it was therapy for her.

Then Alexia pinched his forearm out of nowhere, twisting to ensure he felt it. Trevor pulled his arm back. “Yo, for real, Don’t touch me. Boundaries.”

“I-I’m s-sorry.” Alexia pouted. Her small face reminded him of a girlfriend he let get away. She made the same pouty face when she was mad at him. Trevor softened his posture and changed the subject.

“Now, Alexia, how did I get here?”

Alexia clicked her pen. “That is a good question. The history books said the blacks left the islands centuries ago. Wait, was it left or exterminated? I do not remember, but here you stand.”

“How you mix the two? You best be talking about a family name.”

She shook her head and assured him it was not a family name but the race. But said most left the western hemisphere. Trevor did not believe her and still insisted it to be an elaborate prank or she was lying.

“I am not. It is the truth. I can bring you my history book to prove it.”

Trevor was uninterested in any history books. Most only told one side, the winner. He smirked. “You’re good. I almost believed you. How long you practice that?”

“Practice?”

Her expression was not something one rehearsed. The word and the question confused her. Trevor thought that if she were acting, she deserved an award. Her cute mannerisms, a conservative way of dress, all appealed to him.

Trevor’s heart raced, and his breathing became shallow. He hasn’t experienced this feeling in decades. To overcome the panic, he inhaled, counted, and exhaled in a repetitive process.

Trevor raised his hands. “Aight, I get it. Ya’ll good. Ya got me. Can I go home now?”

“Where is home, Trevor? Do you know because we found you tangled in a tree?”

“Seattle.”

“Trevor, Seattle is gone. Swallowed up by the Pacific Ocean 2000 years ago.” Alexia’s heart raced. Trevor plopped down onto the bed, throwing the leather shackles off the bed. Trevor was exhausted. Alexia kept on about a cataclysm and people survived for decades in bunkers..

Trevor rolled his eyes. Alexia felt compelled to comfort him as she reached out to touch him. Trevor did not move and allowed her hand to grace his face. She recalled the first time she and her sister arrived in Simone. The smells and sounds were unfamiliar, making her feel small and vulnerable

Overwhelmed by empathy, she sat down next to him. Trevor did not protest as she wrapped her arm around his head, running her fingers through his hair. Sitting in silence, she leaned against him, tucking herself under his arm and placing her arms around his waist. Alexia felt comfortable while burying herself into him. A sensation she had never felt before.

Alexia pressed her ear to Trevor’s chest, listening to his heart thumping. Then she placed her other hand on her chest, felt it beat the same rhythm. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, oblivious to time.

The door creaked open with a loud clang, followed by a medium-sized head with puffy red hair. Alexia awoke to the screams of the door hinges as they swung open. She was too close to the elephant. When she opened her eyes, all she could see was dark gray fabric. She looked up to see Trevor sound asleep, her arms and legs intertwined in his as she tucked herself into his chest. Her heart jumped into her throat.

“Alex, you’ve been in here for hours. What are you d….”

Alexia pushed Trevor off her as hard as possible, forcing him off the bed. He fell onto the floor with a thud. Then she absconded the room without a word before Trevor could react. The door slammed behind her, and a loud clunking sound of a lock grabbed his attention. Picking himself off the floor, he rushed to the door, trying to turn the handle. It doesn’t budge.

“WHY IS THIS LOCKED?!” Trevor banged it. The roar of rain in the background grew louder, accompanied by loud thuds against the roof and walls.

Trevor’s imagination ran wild with possibilities of where he was. Only a day passed in his perception. Last night, he slept on the couch. This morning strapped him to a bed. He paced and monitored the door as his heart raced. He had to stop at regular intervals to gain his composure. Sat on the floor and took deep breaths. After some time, it worked, but again, anxiety-filled his mind.

Meditation worked for a time, but Trevor needed something different. He worked out. Push-ups, sit-ups, squats, and up-downs, until he couldn’t raise his arms or stand. He counted and focused his breath to clear his mind. Everything seemed bleak, as only the unknown lay ahead.