Chapter 1: Enter Neil

“The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all who cause others to sin and all evildoers.”
Matthew 13:41


  Cold chaos fogged the air with apocalyptic rumors of the new century, but Neil’s windows trapped in the heartening heat. Luminous fingertips emitted from the fireplace and touched the small collection of football trophies and academic awards proudly placed above the fire. Though Christmas had just recently passed, there was neither tree nor stocking hung; there had been no ceramic snowmen or toy train sets. Only burnt out Christmas lights sat sadly in the trash. Neatly framed and hung newspaper clippings and diplomas jacketed the bricks that built every wall in this living room.
The sound of a small television echoed through this condominium. Its gentle voice crawled across the brick walls of the living room slicing through the silence and led straight into the kitchen. A small white television on top of a dark oak counter, beside an exhausted coffee machine, presented the news. The voice of the reporter cracked through the staleness of the airless apartment but did not rift into the mind of Neil Maillen.
 He sat alone above a plate of piping hot  microwaved lasagna and glanced at the empty chair beside him. Taking a deep breath the smell filled him and pushed a wave of his chestnut brown hair from his dark eyes and dust-colored face. Neil hadn’t eaten much of his T.V. dinner. He poked at it several times with his fork, flirting with the long white tendrils of steam that danced before him like a snake. A heavy stone sat in Neil’s stomach for a while now. It was the lingering feeling that something pivotal was about to happen. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why he had been feeling this way, but here he sat January 10th, feeling the same way he had for a while now—nervous, paranoid and anxious.
 Standing he pushed those feelings away and walked into the living room sinking into the  centered brown leather couch. Neil had done fairly well for himself. Above the fireplace were awards that he had received in college as a football player and awards that he had obtained more recently as a writer. All around the room, hung his most prominent articles written for a local magazine called Vivacity. Neil was young very successful and proud of that success because he worked very hard to get it. The green eyes of those older and less lucrative resented him but besides the award-winning articles was an invisible frame that held the pride that came with outshining those who doubted him.
 Neil was a man with a set of strong and dynamic eyebrows that demanded respect for the story that they told. Black-brown and heavy, his eyebrows told of his accomplishment and struggle. He sat back and untied his expensive designer tie. Image and success was very important to Neil, so he always dressed professionally and the clothes fit nicely around his tall athletic build. He liked to wear solid colors, and expensive fabrics, he was young and needed to dress respectably.
Growing up Neil was raised by middle-class parents with strong religious morals and faiths that they pressed upon their loving child. When he was 14, Neil had been diagnosed with the chicken poxes and had to stay home from church. That was the Sunday that his church had burned down, trapping and killing both his parents inside. Neil hadn’t picked up a Bible since. From then, he lived alone, scraping by on earnings he had made as a cashier at a local grocery store, eventually working his way through college earning a degree in journalism and thereby securing himself a job as a journalist.

Neil picked up a glass of red wine that stood on a wooden table end and placed it to his lips then lifted a pen and pad of paper. Running his fingers across the brown peach fuzz above his lip and the neat, hardly-there beard on his chin, he gazed at his notebook.

 Tomorrow, Neil was interviewing an actor but tonight, the fear of something coming was stronger than ever. Unable to think of a single question for the actor, he filled his barrel chest with dead air as he relaxed. He knew he could write a great article regardless, but he always preferred to be prepared.
“Neil! Get your ass down here!” following the voice Neil walked to the window and beheld the giant red moon that appeared strangely larger than usual. He recognized the voice and the long blonde hair of his ex-girlfriend as she stuck her head out of her car window and slammed her fist on the car horn. “It’s time!”
 It seemed like Rhea, Neil’s college girlfriend, had been pregnant forever. He often wondered why they had broken up. The love between a college football player and a cheerleader was written in the stars, but Rhea had often complained that Neil hadn’t spent enough time paying attention to her and, frankly, she was right. Once they graduated, he had been so deeply involved in his work that Rhea was left bitter, resentful, and pregnant. The two soon split, holding nothing but an unborn child between them.
 She slid over into the passenger’s seat as Neil jumped into the car. Lifting a thick black eyebrow, he asked, “How did you do this by yourself?”
 Rhea’s blue eyes were arrows as she spat, “None of your damn business! Now drive the damn car!”

As Neil pressed his foot on the gas, he realized how Rhea had changed since their breakup. Grunting slightly, he drove over the speed limit, confident that he would hit nothing as he headed to the hospital. A bead of sweat trickled down Neil’s face as his concentration began to wane. His skin felt warmer as a headache, accompanied by a distant staticy sound, entered his mind. Then he heard Rhea’s voice, “God the baby is coming now! I wish Neil would hurry up!”
         Rhea was in labor, he knew, but his patience for her had run slim. He gave her another wicked glance, and then looked back at the road. “I'm going as fast as I can. It would help if you would be quiet!”
  
      “I didn’t say shit to you!” Rhea panted as sweat melted on her cheeks. Her hands grabbed the sides of her stomach and her light eyes met his.
 
       “Oh yeah, right, I heard you,” Neil spat, turning a sharp corner.

        “What the hell is wrong with him?” Rhea thought.

        “Nothing is wrong with me,” he grunted. “I just wanna concentrate on the road.”
 
       “Then fucking concentrate! What are you talking about?” Rhea shouted.

 “What do you mean?” His voice creaking slightly as they entered the hospital parking lot. Lungs full of hot air, he quickly jumped out of the car and opened the passenger side door, helping Rhea out. Holding the enlarged stomach of his past girlfriend, Neil ran into the hospital lobby.
As the doctors lifted Rhea onto a bed a young nurse pressing a hand on Neil’s chest stopping him from following her, “Sir, are you the father?”
Beads of sweat melted on Neil’s face, “Y-yes...”
The red headed nurse then curled a string of red hair around her finger. “Okay, a little greasy... but still kinda cute...”
“Do you have your insurance card? I’m going to need you to fill out some paper work. You can see your girlfriend soon...” she stressed the word.
Placing a hand on his wet forehead Neil closed his eyes. He tried to focus his thoughts, but his temples pounded too strongly around his raising fever. Through his dilheuium, he nodded and grabbed the clipboard from her.
Heavily Neil fell to his seat, exhaling a hot breath of exhaustion and dizziness.
“Why don’t you just hurry up and die you old bastard, I’m sorry Dad, but I just can’t afford these weekly visits to the hospital! I have too many bills! Bills that you crocking could help fix! Boy, I’d be on easy ... Wow, that guy doesn’t look so good.”
Struggling to hold the clipboard between his hands Neil looked over towards the young man as he pushed his wheel chaired father to the front desk.
“You okay buddy?” he asked. Neil nodded. “Please,” the man smiled painfully, “do everything you can.”
What was going on? Neil swallowed hard. What were these voices in his head? Why was he feeling so sick all of a sudden? Staticy bursts exploded in his mind as he struggled to read the pages before him.
“DUMB ASS BITCH PAY ATTENTION WHEN I TALK TO YOU BEFORE I KICK YOU IN THE NUTS!”
Neil looked up to the small blonde girl standing before him. Smiling she tilted her head and held a box of candy bars before her. “Hi sir, would you like to buy a candy bar?” Quickly, Neil fought through his queasiness, fished a dollar from his shorts and bought himself a candy bar.
Rhea gave a hoarse, dry scream, her eyes narrowing into a complete line and her mouth showing all of her teeth. Neil grasped her hand and let her squeeze as tightly as she needed. Dr. Sommers, smiled brightly and coached Rhea in her breathing.
 Neil’s fever had grown stronger. His headache pounded more intensely and he closed his eyes. Reopening them to a blurred image of the room and a weak body. Neil fell to the ground.

Brown eyes flicked in the fluorescent light above him as he awoke several moments later. He was still in the hospital.

 “I hope Alex remembered to get milk.”
 
The sound entered Neil’s ear banging slightly on his temples.
 
       “What?” He asked.

        “Nothing…” The nurse spoke, entering the room, and pulling some earphones from her ears. “You’re up…?” 
 Neil shook his head slowly, aware of the remote battering inside of him. “No, I heard you,” he said. “Something about milk.”

The nurse backed up, but then smiled. “Did I say that out loud? I guess you would like to see your baby now?” she asked. “Don’t worry, lots of fathers faint at the sight of birth. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Hmph,” Neil huffed, leaning over towards the glass of water, embarrassed of his own shortcoming. “Yeah, right.” He muttered as the nurse left the room.

“It’s a boy” the nurse smiled returning later, handing the child over into Neil’s arms. The baby had a head full of brown-black hair, like his father, and his face expressed in a pinkish glow.
                                  
               …


Abruptly Neil woke up to a shrieking alarm clock. It was set to 7:00. “Great, three hours of sleep.” he muttered throwing over his white bed sheets and sitting onside of his bed for a few seconds. Recapping the night before Neil realized he prepared no questions for the actor but was forced the panic away with confidence. This interview was too important to miss and he would do a great job.
Neil was driving over the speed limit. Every time he tried to slow down, he’d lose track and begin speeding again. Like every other day, Neil stopped at a fast food restaurant. He threw an old coffee-stained paper cup to the bottom of his blue jeep, an area that was full of other discarded cups, wrappings and a yellow crowbar. Neil drove up to the window and a pimple-faced teenager was there to greet him. “May I take your order, sir?”
  He sighed, “Just a medium coffee.”

“A dollar ninety-eight,” the youth said, his voice nearly cracking.

 Neil snagged a dollar and a handful of change from his pocket. The teenager brought over a paper cup filled to the top with coffee. Slowly, trying to keep his balance, he reached the window and leaned out holding the coffee far away from his body. Before Neil could grab the coffee, it spilled. Steaming liquid burnt Neil’s knees and stained the passenger seat.

 “This is Versace!” Neil yelled. An intense feeling erupted within him; a feeling that pulled at each part of his body at the same time, pounded a loud thud in his head; and feeling that telekinetically sent the yellow crowbar in the passenger’s seat through the passenger window of his car without a touch.



La'Von Gittens
NoV'al Publishing
Divine Apocalypse: The Beginning of the End