Old Familiar Visitors
by S Shane Thomas

Listen to my narration here

I exist to conquest worlds and control the indigenous populace. My creators intended the Nefilim for conquest. My kind dominated an entire planet’s species in combat, and then built up what remained into their first society. We artificial beings taught the unwashed masses to till the earth, record their learnings, dwell apart from their excrement, and civilize. In return, as their generations came and passed their people began to revere my kind as their gods. Humanity never knew that I and my companions were merely tools wielded by the truly powerful.

Sumer rose and fell. Earth’s cradle of civilization became the dusty parchments in Babylon’s libraries, and the basis for Egyptian, Greek, and Aztec cultures. New gods replaced those whose dominion began humanity’s culture. Our new assignment waited on the world of our origin. On the world where our creators developed their society. The success of my kind allowed for the creators to disperse throughout the galaxy, the hidden power behind god puppets. None wished to remain in the place of their species’ ascension. That role had been assigned to the gods of Sumer. The loyal conquistadors of primitive Earth would stand an eternal vigil over a sacred home world.

I am among the nameless. In our order only few achieve the prominence of a name and station. Our creator had neither whim nor necessity to name the countless remainder. The Tablet of Destiny compelled us to the temple. It had been home to one of their middle class. A lonely place, yet with its beauty. My station overlooked a river which carved a deep canyon on its relentless path. I began to watch the water when it flowed level with the entry, I watched until it plunged underfoot. I imagined the conquest of countless people and places while the water slowly carved away.

One of the zagmuku returned. Hundreds of thousands could live within its massive hull during the voyage. Weeks passed as I awaited the Tablet of Destiny’s new instruction. Those among my kind who served a transient purpose bore no news.

The journey in my humanoid form took nearly a month. Had I been assigned wings or an insubstantial existence it should only have been a day’s pursuit. I regarded the abandonment of post as a part of my duty to assess the only change in the planets population since their departure. I undertook a surveillance mission.

It shocked me to find an entire society of my one time thralls within the zagmuku. It was eerily reminiscent of Atlantis, the vessel that arrived on Earth to relieve me of duty in Sumer. Not a single creator stood among them.

I returned to my station. Had these beings overcome their superiors? Had conquest drawn my predecessors and the creators away from Earth? I pondered the arrival and its implications in the months that followed.

They approached from the river one day as I stood at cliff side in thought. Their vessel paused to examine the steps I had etched out in the cliff face to reach the water. They wandered close enough to pose a threat, my long awaited duty arrived.

Before either man departed the boat, I dove toward them from my perch. Both humans gaped and pointed, neither with the slightest awareness of their doom. My arms stretched wide and a bone shattering crunch to either side signified that pulling them under the water’s rushing surface gave quick mercy rather than their final struggle.

I suppose more will come looking, until then I’ll be watching the water.

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