Enoch walked with God, and he was not, for God took him- Genesis 5:24
Noah raised the fruit to eye level. Its translucent color sparkled as a diamond in the sun. It’s shape, oval, fitting in the palm of his hand. It’s skin, smooth and mellifluous.
“What is it,” Noah asked, his sun worn face scrunched in curiosity.
A loud thunder clap echoed across the black sky.
Michael the archangel glanced up at the menacing clouds, then back at Noah. “It’s the only surviving fruit of the tree of life. You must guard it, and guard it with your life.”
Noah’s eyes widened. “So, the legend is true? But I thought Shamsiel destroyed all the fruit?”
“Ah yes, Shamsiel,” Michael nodded in remembrance, his face souring. “The guardian cherub.” His eyes met Noah’s. “We thought he did. His rage over Lilith being cast out knew no bounds. If it hadn’t been for Seth,” Michael’s voice trailed off as he stared at the ark.
“What, Michael?” Noah lowered the fruit and cupped it in both hands.
“If it hadn’t been for Seth rummaging through the rubble, we wouldn’t have known either.”
Noah sat on the ground watching Shem struggle to get a sheep up the ramp to the ark. “Tell me more, Michael.”
Michael sat down by Noah. “Your ancestor Seth found it. He passed it down and eventually Enoch, the man of God, took the fruit.”
“Yes, and legend says God took him up to the heavens.”
“Indeed, he did. Do you know why?”
Noah shook his head.
“Because Enoch took a bite of the fruit.”
Noah’s hand felt the indention on the backside of the fruit. He flipped it over and his mouth gaped. “Indeed, he did.” Noah looked at Michael, his face begging him to continue.
“God had to take Enoch. Enoch wasn’t supposed to happen. A fallen man from Adam’s race now endued with eternal life in his sinful state.”
“Was God angry,” Noah asked.
Michael smirked, “No, he wasn’t angry. He loves Enoch. He enacted a plan.”
Noah raised his eyebrows. “What kind of a plan?”
“Well, “Michael pursed his lips in thought. “Enoch dug up Eve’s grave and buried the fruit with her.” He gave Noah a sly smile. “Proved to be a remarkable hiding spot.”
Noah nodded in agreement.
Michael said, “After Enoch hid the fruit, Yahweh took Enoch to heaven. Enoch has now been placed as guardian over the fruit. If the fruit is in danger of falling into the wrong hands, Enoch will come, ready to fight and ensure the fruit remains safe.”
“So you’re giving it to me? So it will not be lost in the grand deluge?”
“You catch on fast, old man,” Michael patted Noah on the back.
Noah gave a half smile then studied the fruit. “I will guard it well, Michael.” Noah’s gaze met Michael’s. “I make an oath to Yahweh on my very life.”
“Very good. I know you will not fail us.”
A deafening thunder shook the heavens, and Noah felt the first drop of rain graze the top of his ear.
In the years following the flood, as Noah’s descendants spread across the land, the secret of the fruit remained with Noah. Before he died, Noah entrusted this knowledge to his sons, Ham Shem and Japeth. The three brothers guarded the fruit well, and as they aged, the trio sought a prudent man to entrust with their family’s secret.
But none could be found.
Nimrod thrust his dagger into the stomach of the lion. He had killed the beast not even five minutes ago. The cold months were approaching, and he needed warm hide to cover his massive frame.
He slid the dagger down and the blood ran. He pushed his hand into the warm liquid and the copper smell hit is nostrils. He grabbed a chunk of innards and began to gut the lion. As he worked he thought about Ham, the head of the clan. He was on his deathbed. Maybe he should make the hide into a covering for him?
No, he thought. Let the old bastard die.
Nimrod dragged the carcass back to his clan’s camp. He walked in and heard Ham’s faint voice calling for him from within his tent. Nimrod sighed, dropped the lion, and stepped into Ham’s tent.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Comes see, my son.” Ham’s voice was a wheezing whisper.
Nimrod eased over to Ham’s bed and knelt beside him.
“Take my hand,” Ham demanded.
Nimrod reached out and held Ham’s hand. It was cold and slick. The hand of a dying man. “I’m here my lord.”
“Nimrod, my time on this earth is about to expire. I need you to gather my brothers and my sons and daughters.”
Nimrod went to release Ham’s hand and obey his orders, but Ham squeezed tighter.
“Wait my child. Before I die, there is something I need to tell you. It’s a secret. A secret of grave importance. I’ve held this secret because there has been no one worthy to pass it on to. But you,” Ham coughed and wheezed. “But you are a great warrior, and a great warrior is needed to protect,” Ham’s words were cut short with more coughing.
Nimrod’s brow furrowed in confusion. “My lord, I don’t understand.”
“Come closer my child, and I will tell you.”
Nimrod leaned in and Ham revealed to him the knowledge of the fruit.
Shem and Japeth entered the tent. Shem held a bowl of stew, ready to feed Ham his lunch.
“And the fruit is buried in the mountains of Ararat, where Noah built the first altar to Yahweh after the flood.”
Shem’s hands grew weak and the bowl of stew fell to ground with a sloshing thud. “Dear God, Ham. What have you done?”
Nimrod smiled over his shoulder at Shem and Japeth, an insidious gleam in his eye.
Ham breathed his last breath and his spirit left to join his ancestors in the bosom of Yahweh.
Japeth licked his lips and swallowed hard. Cold chills twisted up his spine like an arctic serpent. “Nimrod…no.”
Shem and Japeth knew what kind of man Nimrod was. Ham had always refused to see.
Nimrod stood to his feet. “Well, brothers. I think it would be wise of you to tell me where this altar is.”
Shem’s wrinkled, old face contorted with anger. “I would rather go to Sheol than tell you where the fruit is buried!”
“Very well, “Nimrod nodded. He drew his sword which was attached to his waist. With one fluid motion he lopped Shem’s head off. A blood rainbow geysered from his neck, decorating the inside of the tent crimson. Shem’s body toppled to the floor. Nimrod turned his attention to Japeth.
The old man went down on both knees and shook his head. “I will not tell you either.”
“So be it!” Nimrod swung, decapitating Japeth. As his headless body hit the dirt, blood flowed around Nimrod’s feet. Nimrod stepped over the body and poked his head out the tent. When he was sure no one had heard the commotion, he snuck out the camp, leaving the lion carcass, and traveled to the mountains of Ararat.
Lucifer sat in the shadows, watching the entire scene, a sinister plan stirring in his dark heart.
Enoch approached Yahweh’s throne, his face shrouded in the darkness of his gray, hooded cloak. His body burned with the fire of Yahweh. He drew his sword and knelt before God.
“Yes, My Lord.”
“The secret of the fruit has been jeopardized.”
Enoch lifted his head. “I know. I felt it.”
“And Lucifer prowls about.”
“Lucifer…” Enoch growled.
“Go,” Yahweh commanded. “Release Azazel and the other watchers from prison- Amazarak, Baraqel, and Suriel. They will aid you in your quest.”
“It will be as you will,” Enoch said, then rose to his feet to go to Tartarus and release the watchers.
A cool breeze flowed through the mountains. It entered a cave and rolled over the sleeping body of Nimrod, awakening him with a shiver.
“I should have kept the lion,” he mumbled to himself. Nimrod sat up to stoke the fire he had built. His eyes detected movement in the corner. Nimrod drew his dagger. As the embers of the fire danced up in the air, he saw a figure in the shadows.
The entities eyes glowed orange. Its skin was onyx, with a sapphire breastplate covering its chest. The figure extended charcoal wings, the feathers having been singed, still gleaming like the embers of Nimrod’s fire.
“Put the blade down, Nimrod,” the being said, stepping out of the shadows. “It won’t do you any good.”
It had been years, but Nimrod recognized the creature. “Lucifer?”
Lucifer smiled, revealing jagged, opaque teeth which reflected the dim light of the fire. “Yes. And I’m sure you can guess why I am here.”
Nimrod returned his dagger to its sheath. “Oh I can take a wild guess. The fruit.”
Lucifer gave a slow nod. “I’ve been waiting all these years for Noah and his family to stumble,” Lucifer chuckled. “I always knew it would be Ham.”
“What do you want with the fruit, Lucifer, “Nimord ask, his voice lacking amusement.
“To make you like the mighty men of renown. The mighty men of old. The Nephilim. Then you shall devour the fruit, and we shall live forever, and be the rightful rulers of this creation.”
Nimrod smirked. “Tell me more, brother.”
Plans were made, and Lucifer entered Nimrod. Nimrod’s body twisted and contorted, his features taking on those of Lucifer’s, except his skin remained its olive color. His torso expanded and his limbs elongated. A pair of singed wings emerged from his back. Nimrod grew so large, he had to get on all fours to crawl out the entrance of the cave.
“Go,” Nimrod heard a voice in his head saying. “I know where the altar used to be.”
Enoch sank his sword into the rocky ground of the mountain. It split open, and Enoch saw the shimmering of the fruit of the tree of life. His emerald eyes glowed under the darkness of his hood as he glanced over his shoulder at Azazel, Amazarak, Baraqel, and Suriel.
“The fruit is still here. We are not too late,” Enoch said
Azazel threw off his cloak. His wine-colored scales refracted the light, causing it to sparkle as a gem. Eight tales like a scorpion aligned his back- four on each side running vertical. The tails outstretched like wings, hovering over his body. Powerful reptilian legs supported the frame, and one of its massive arms formed into a blade at the hand. Azazel’s face had been peeled back, revealing bulging eyes and a black skull with the red sinews still attached. He breathed in deep.
“He is close,” Azazel turned to the other watchers. “Prepare yourselves.”
The other watchers removed their cloaks. They resembled Azazel in appearance except Amazarak was a light blue, Baraqel a golden yellow, and Suriel a deep red.
Enoch removed his sword from the rock and stood in front of the watchers. The ground began to shake, as a figure in the distance rumbled towards them. A few moments later, the Lucifer-Nimrod hybrid loomed over them.
“Stand aside Enoch. The fruit is mine,” the creatures voice flowed deep.
Enoch threw his hood back. Black spikes covered his pale head, which was aligned with various tribal markings. His green eyes darkened. “You cannot kill what cannot die.” Enoch bared his teeth and made the first move.
Nimrod swung his sword, blocking Enoch’s attack. The blow was so forceful, Enoch flipped in the air and crashed against the side of the mountain. The watchers moved in fast. Their blade arms flailing and connecting with Nimrod’s flesh.
Nimrod cried out in anger and pain. While he was preoccupied with Suriel and Baraqel, Azazel was able to slip in behind him. Azazel leaped onto Nimrods back. As he did, he sank all of his scorpion legs into Nimrod’s sides and chest.
Amazarack saw his opening and thrust his blade arm into Nimrod’s stomach. Blood flowed from Nimrod’s wounds and his body grew weak. With a show of strength, he brought his sword crashing down on Amazarack’s arm, severing it. Amazarack retreated in pain, and Nimrod removed the blade, then fell to his knees.
Azazel released his grasp, and Baraqel kicked Nimrod in the chest, collapsing him to the ground. By this time Enoch was to his feet. He approached Nimrod and stood over him.
“As I said,” Enoch raised his sword. “You cannot kill what cannot die.” He brought the blade down like a bolt of lightning into Nimrod’s heart.
Nimrod breathed his last, and Lucifer ascended out of him and flew into the heavens. Enoch and the watchers looked on until Lucifer was out of sight. They inspected the fruit one last time, then sealed the crevice. Enoch and the watchers returned to heaven, leaving Nimrod’s body to decay in the mountains.
Shamsiel saw the entire thing. He descended the mountain and stood where Enoch had split the ground. Shamsiel’s head resembled a gigantic, black goat skull with long horns. His back and red feline body gripped a flaming sword in its human hands. His tail, a viper, slithered around his feet. He raised the sword above his head and then slammed it into the rock. The ground split and Shamsiel saw something sparkle.
He reached into the crevice and took hold of the fruit. Shamsiel brought the fruit to eye level and inspected it. His grip around it tightened. His voice echoed as he talked. It was a low, guttural voice which rolled like thunder. “It’s not over Lilith. Not at all.”
Bio not given