Lilith/Cain

He stared at the neat row of wheat in front of him, frowning. He used his hand to measure the top of the row against his own height and his frown deepened.

“How goes it?” a voice called out some distance behind him. He turned and looked at his brother.

Abel was cheerful to a fault, but even his usual smile could not ease his misgivings. “It’s not ready yet,” he answered simply. It was barely growing, he meant to say. They were in for a harsh winter.

Abel squinted at the wheat, his expression calculating. Though, honestly, he know nothing about agriculture. His true passion lied with animal husbandry, and it definitely paid off. His flock was the largest and the fattest around.

“It’s about time.” Abel’s expression turned serious. It was then that Cain noticed the sheep carcass his brother was carrying.

“So it is.” He turned back to his crop and knelt down. He gripped a few stalks at the base and severed them with his sickle. The blade was finely honed and cut through without effort.

He stood back up and walked over to his brother. “Let’s carry on, then.”

He frowned at his brother when he reached him. “Do you need any help with that?” The carcass over his shoulders had to weigh more than he did, but he held it across his shoulders easily.

Abel laughed. “I’ll manage…” That was enough for Cain. They continued on, walking side by side. Though he made sure to match his brother’s slower pace.

“It’s because you gave me the north field,” Abel said softly.

“What do you mean?” Cain didn’t look at him.

“I don’t know much about dirt, but I do know that the northern field is the best patch of dirt you have.” Abel looked down at the ground as he shifted the carcass’ weight on his shoulders. “You could have planted your wheat there, but you let it overgrow with clover and gave it to me for grazing.”

Cain shrugged. “You act like I had a choice in the matter.”

“Didn’t you?” His breath was starting to wheeze with effort.

He shook his head. “I did not.”

It was Abel’s turn to frown. “I don’t understand.” His shoulders began to sag, but Cain knew that he was not allowed to help him.

“Save your strength,” he said. “It’s a long walk.”

xXx

They didn’t return till after the sun went down. Both men were without their offerings. Abel was cheerful, but Cain couldn’t hide his dejection. Abel tried his best to comfort him. “My success is yours, because without your land, my flock would starve.”

“Perhaps the north field grows better because I’m not tampering with it.” He looked down at the sickle in his hand. “Maybe I’m not meant to be a farmer.”

“I’m sure you’ll succeed if you just keep at it. There has to be something you can do. You’re meant for great things.”

Cain’s hand tightened around the sickle’s handle. His hair shrouded his eyes. “You’re right.” When he looked up, his expression was neutral. “I might have an idea. Do you have time to visit the north field before we head back?”

“Of course.” Able went with him cheerfully while Cain led him far away from the house and any chance of passerby.

xXx

He panted heavily, his body trembling. His skin was coated in a cold sweat. Abel lay at his feet while his blood stained the grass. Under the pale moonlight it was black as pitch.

“Such a terrible thing,” a sweet voice said behind him. He whirled around, eyes wild. She stood under the moon, her dark hair flowing freely down her back. Her blue eyes glowed with their own light. “Slain by his own brother, no less.”

“Is it enough this time?” His voice was accusing. He put a hand over his heart and clenched it into a fist. “Is this finally enough?”

The woman tilted her head to the side. “You are confused. My father did not send me after you.
Our meeting here is pure chance.” Her eerie blue eyes flicked down to his brother’s rapidly draining corpse. “Trust me, this will not please him.”

Cain’s legs gave out and he dropped to his knees. His sickle hit the grass as he brought his hands to his head. “I don’t have anything else...”

The wind picked up then, rustling angrily through the grass. Thunder rumbled even though the sky was clear. She tensed, looking around. “We should go. Father knows I am gone by now.”

Cain looked fearful now. “Is he angry?”

She looked back at him, her expression grim. “Oh yes.” She watched him tremble at her affirmation. “Do you want to run away with me?”

There was a glimmer of hope in his dark eyes. She held one slim, pale hand down to him. He lifted his hand up, towards her.

A blinding flash of light seared down between them, followed by a thunderous roar. She blinked the sudden blindness away and saw that Cain had been struck down. He lay on the ground, the skin on his face seared. The burn travelled down his neck and shoulder, disappearing into his shirt.

She stood over him, surprised to see he was still alive, for the moment at least. His diminishing vitality was merely the last few grains of sand in the hourglass.

She knelt down next to him. “Once I would have been able to heal you perfectly, but now…” She looked down at her hands. Her long nails were sharp as claws. “I’m a betrayer, my blood is no longer pure.”

One badly burned hand grasped her around the wrist. He couldn’t speak, but he gripped her with his remaining strength. He was grasping her as a drowning man claws at the surface of the water.

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Very well, then.” With her free hand, she reached for his sickle.

xXx

Aclima hurried up the path when she spotted him. His steps were shambling and he swayed like a drunkard. As she drew closer, her hands flew to her mouth. Half of his face was scarred, still pink from healing. “What’s happened?”

His eyes stared blankly ahead, but shifted towards her at her words. Under the moonlight they glowed bright red. He looked away and continued past her.

“Where’s Abel?” she called after him.

“I am not my brother’s keeper,” he replied dully.

xxxXXXxxx

Cain’s eyes opened slowly as Dexter wound down his story. “The loss of Katherine Brun was too much for Manigault, and ultimately it led to his death. I guess, in his own way, he loved her.” He shrugged, adjusting his glasses. “That’s purely speculation, of course. He could have just been angry at losing what he deemed a possession. Though I’m not sure that kind of loss would have driven him mad.”

Cain was leaning back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach while the Professor’s words washed over him. Manigault’s final moments…

“There’s only one left, now,” he said softly.

Dexter tilted his head in confusion. “Ah, you mean Matsumoto Tsukishiro, Yuki’s father.”

“Do you know why he’s survived when the other three are dead?” Cain asked.

“His family is quite large. They’re expanding into Tokyo currently.”

“Manigault controlled all of Paris. Faust nearly had all of Russia under his rule before his fall. Ebhaleleme merely spoke, and all of Nigeria could hear his words…”

“Then… why?”

He stared up at the ceiling. “Matsumoto does not harm humans. He forbids anyone in his family from doing so as well.”

Dexter blinked in surprise. “You mean not at all? How does he feed his family?”

“Livestock, mostly. Though they do pay humans for blood. Nowadays they even use syringes.”

Dexter chose his words carefully. “That’s certainly… kind of him.”

“It’s not about kindness, it’s about survival. It’s about not angering the beast.” Cain closed his eyes, relaxing deeper into his chair. “Humanity is truly frightening.”

Dexter gaped at him. “We’re the frightening ones?”

He nodded. “Oh yes. There is no force on this planet as devastatingly organized as humanity. Humans alone have the power to doom this entire planet, or save it.” He opened his eyes and shifted them over to the professor. “That’s why we’re here right now, why this building exists. We must learn to adapt, as a whole. Or else humanity will rout us out and kill each and every one of us like rabid dogs.”

Dexter laughed nervously. “You make us sound like monsters…”

Cain’s gaze was steady. “That’s because you are.”

xxxXXXxxx

Vivian woke to a loud ringing sound, and it was only after she was upright that she realized it was inside of her head. She rubbed her temples as it faded to a dull throb. What the hell had happened to her?

She found herself in an unfamiliar room. It was both comfortable and uncomfortable, the way that cramped hotel rooms were. The bed was neatly made and there was a TV and nightstand, but no windows and only one door. There was no sign of a bathroom.

Before she could even fully process her situation, the door opened. An elderly man stood in the doorway. “Ah, Mrs. Eklund, you’re awake.”

“Where am I?” she whispered, not trusting to speak any more loudly with her head hurting so much. “Am I in a hospital?” There’d been a car crash, right?

“You are in a fully-equipped medical facility, but you are not in a hospital.”

She took in his long white coat. “Are you a doctor?” She squinted at him. “You look familiar.”

“That is correct. My name is Dr. Franz Smythe. You’re most likely confusing me with my brother, Gregori. This is our first meeting.”

“What am I doing here?” She clutched the side of her head as she slowly looked around. Even that slight movement made her dizzy.

“I apologize for your current disorientation. We had to drug you when you first arrived. You were quite… hysterical.”

“What?” She looked back at him. “Where’s Arthur?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that. I didn’t ask how you were obtained. Frankly, I didn’t care. What matters is that you’re here now.”

“Why? What are you planning on doing to me?” Her eyes narrowed.

“If you come with me quietly, I’ll explain everything.”

She got to her feet on her own. Smythe offered her no assistance. He merely held the door open for her. “I’m not going to like what I hear, am I?” she asked.

“Most likely, but if you don’t behave we can always drug you again.” He gave her a small shrug.