Cain and Me

Reads: 67  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
The Origins of Cain and Abel. This is just a snippet and what I call a “teaser chapter” because it is barely even covering anything from my Novel. My own origins.

Submitted: January 19, 2020

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 19, 2020

A A A

A A A


 

 

 


Cain was walking his crops and talking to them, in hums and vibrations, teaching them to reach for the life giving sun and to eat from the sky, the rains that would pour. He brushed his fingers on their tops, the evidence of their progress from being planted from seeds that were given from Mother. With each year of life that he lived, he learned how to calm the plants and let them know that they were ok, that Mother was going to give them new life, through him, and that they would indeed, grow once more, into bigger and better things. They would return as great trees, all of them, from seed, to growth, to harvested and ate, all the more preserving himself. When they would leave his body, he would go to trees and defecate, returning them to the earth and feeding the very roots of life, so that they may reach higher and higher as great behemoths of time. For without them, the plants, him and the tree, life would not exist. All was a circle, a recycle of one another. For nothing stays left whole forever. Nothing stays consistent. Or so Mother had said to Cain. Mother spoke from Nature itself, within the consciousness that was Cain. Cain had wondered, Does Mother see and hear all?
Mother woke Cain this morning and instructed him to love the crops today, give them inspiration and determination to reach the completion of the cycle. Cain just now finished his task, regretfully half assed, wishing now to explore. He loved running about Mother and seeing all the great and beautiful things and creatures that lay, trot and gallop to be discovered. He had been on the mountains, snow capped and higher than any tree. He had been under the waters for as long as he could until his very lungs burned and begged for air. He had yet to reach the sky. Like the birds that sang their calming songs, laying him to sleep. Mother had once told him, without limits, without ends and without dangers, there’d be no struggle. Therefore, no purpose. That has stayed with Cain and he was able to appreciate his surroundings. He needed no one or nothing to be able to live. Just the purpose to survive. And Mother. 
A great many sun leaps ago, Cain had stumbled upon a slab of rock that was sullied a deep reddish brown, and atop the slab, he had always found a dead animal. But it was not skinned for warmth, it was not gutted for cleaning and it was not even stripped of its meat. The animals had always ranged in species but of one thing was for certain and remained the same, they were slaughtered with no intent. No purpose. When he had told Mother of this, she did not take lightly and then forbade me to ever go back to that dark place. For the energy was foreboding and very off putting. Like his presence was perverting. Or perhaps it was the place of this stone that was perverting him. No matter the case, Cain remained ever curious of this place, for it was of the dirt and without roof. A large clearing that basked in the sun and tanned its very own ground, sun kissed. 
This very thing had been the only thing that he allowed himself to defy Mother in. If she truly cared or were serious about never going there, then she would have voiced it more often than just that one time. She tried to explain to Cain that he would find no answers there but only pain. Cain made his way to this spot as he always had. However, Cain decided to get there earlier than usual. He quickened his duties and made light of being precise in them in hopes to see if he could make it there BEFORE they were put to their next cycle. As the grass turned to bare dirt, he knew he was close. Down this way, the air became warm, the heat and the sun left to stare upon it. The changes in temperature and terrain always amazed Cain but what amazed him even more was the change in animal species based upon these changing factors. So, when he found this slab of rock with so many different species of even different colors, he was excited and terrified at meeting this killer beast that slew with no reason or grounds. 
Cain came to the placement of this varnished stone and went behind a large boulder, laying prone on his stomach, watching for any sign of a beast. There was no animal upon the slab, a good sign, it meant no animals had been stripped of their true roles in the cycle. Cain laid there for what seemed like ages.. it was now pass the midday and the sun was just starting to show its true power. Licking at his skin. Cain was of dark complexion and wore nothing as far as protective coverings go. His dark black hair was thick about his body as he began to be caked with sweat. He would need a proper washing from the lake if his scent were to remain hidden. His beard was always growing no matter how many times he used a stone knife to cut it short or cut it altogether. He had hacked at his hair a full sun leaps ago, it laying short, above his ears. His beard, cut just two sun leaps ago was already beginning to stubble. He was of large muscle and stood a total of 6’11”.
From across the grassless plain, Cain heard the wailing of an animal he was very familiar with. A goat. In fact, it was this goats very wailing that had woken Cain, not even realizing he had dozed off for a time. It was coming from a patch of tall bushes that concealed just exactly where this goat really was. As the goat came into view from a bush, Cain noticed something brown wrapped around the animals neck. It was a braided vine and at the other end of that braided vine emerged… The beast.. but the beast, was no beast at all. In fact, he looked just like Cain… except he appeared very queer to Cain.. he was draped in something, from head to toe, like a tree, whose leaves blanketing it but had hung off of the beasts being like it was on and not a part of the beast. Perhaps moss? Then Cain concluded that it was a Cain No, it was… It was… Him… but shorter, less hairy and not as hunched. This me, Cain thought,  stood straight backed at an underwhelming 5’6” This me that was not him was more fluid when moving. Me then tied the goat to a makeshift wooden post and approached the stone slab, kneeling on a much smaller stone slab adjacent to the large discolored one. Me then put his forehead to the ground, Me’s lips moving. Cain heard him grunt silently, the wind whistling from his mouth.
If Me had saw Cain, Me made no hint of it. Cain rubbed his sheepish eyes and scooted forward a bit, taking care not to make noise. Hopefully, Me’s nose was not that of a deer. Otherwise, Me would have already spotted Cain. 
Me then took the goat by the brown braided vine about its neck to the tainted slab, talking to the goat, or so Cain assumed, for Me’s mouth were moving and his words hushed. Calming the beast before killing it? This put a whole new terrifying and maddening experience for Cain. Why would he talk to it? Why would he calm it right before he killed it for naught? Only one who took pleasure in such an act would be so cruel to offer reassurance right before slitting its throat. Disgusting, Cain thought. He would tell Mother of this, Me should not be allowed to do this. This was a trespass to everything that Mother was. Mother would feel its pain and feel its life as it would slowly fade and she would weep. Perhaps that’s why Mother always seemed to cry so often, she felt the very life fade for naught. Poor Mother.. Cain would not allow Me to make Mother cry ever again. But he needed to plan. He needed to see if Me did the same things, the same way so that Cain may attack at the best possible moment. This Me was a trapper. A murderer. Cain was a Hunter. Cain would show Me what happens to those that make Mother cry so. 
Cain decided to then stop watching, he knew what was to happen. He decided to stop watching. He didn’t want to watch. He decided… So, it being decided, why did he feel like he could not pull his eyes away from what was surely about to pass. He knew the outcome, but it was at this very moment that he would finally see just why and even the method that Me would do this. Mother could wait just a few more sun steps. Unless she already knew. Unless she already watched and listened. Was this a test of Cain from Mother? Me then eased the goat onto its side and on the brown reddened slab. The Me then made grunts aloud, “Dear Lord, God almighty above!” Cain uneasily shifted, thinking that the calls of Me were acknowledging Cain’s presence, he had been had! No.. boasting or a war cry? Nevertheless Cain held back, careful to not make the first move. Then Me yelled again, “Take this sacrifice to heart and bear it in mind when you think of me, oh Lord! Let the blood flow, just as your love flows through all, Oh Lord, no sign is needed of your joy in this offering, for I know that without you, there is no love greater. Amen!” 
It was at this very moment that the Me slit the throat of the goat. It’s blood, just as The Me projected, flowed from the fatal cut that Me made. The goat’s wails were no more..  Then, as if on perfect cue, a booming voice rang in compliance.
“You offer blood, You offer praise, as I offer life, as I offer love, so as it is done, so as it is now received, so as it may always be!”  
Cain was absolutely awestruck, the voice had rang within his ears and he could not understand where the voice had come but more importantly, How were it that loud? What did the noises it made mean? He slowly began to understand the grunts and bellows of this Me and that who gave Voice from nowhere.  As if he knew all along what words were. What speech were. And then.. It was as if mountains cracked and the boulders fell, as if lightning struck and the thunder croaked. It was like nothing Cain had ever witnessed or heard, but the Voice had stopped speaking. As if these symptoms in late reaction. Cain felt water come from his ears, strange, it as if he swam in the Lake and submerged himself. His head began to ache and he wiped the water from his ear, it was thick, thick water, he placed his hand before his face, fingers spread and saw that it was not water at all. It was blood. His vision began to go out of focus, he shook his head, the ache only increased in reply to this movement but with it, his vision cleared. After just 5 sun tics, his eyes went out of focus again, all was a blur and his head screamed inside itself. He felt the water again, on his cheeks, in his mouth, like his ears, running out the nose, he threw up smelling iron and copper and most of all, he could smell the garlic he had for breakfast.. the voice, indeed, came and struck swiftly, like lightning, the reverberations were late, like thunder after lightning has already stricken from the ground…  And then all went black.. 


© Copyright 2020 Gwynn Stalli O’n. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

More Fantasy Short Stories