Messiah - Prologue
There was a loud rumbling overhead as the white clouds in the skies of Vatican City spread apart as the large military vehicle began its descent. At altitude zero, hoards of spectators and eager reporters shot their gazes to the heavens, as the helicopter appeared from within the opaque white. A man thrust a finger to the heavens and shouted.
"He's here!"
There was a sudden eruption of applause and caterwauling as a wave of euphoria broke out within the large crowds scattered along the roads. Almost immediately camera crews flipped on their equipment and aimed their devices skyward, their reporter companions hastily checking their attire and picking up microphones as they prepared to be beamed into broadcast feeds worldwide, their eager higher-ups back at headquarters waiting for the golden news item that would take all the front pages of the next day's newspapers by storm.
There was good reason, when considering the recent acts of the precious load contained within that very helicopter.
Up in the skies, the pilot was fully aware of the important person sitting a few seats behind him, shielded from his view by a barrier. He was under direct orders of his superiors to transport the person, and for the first time in a decade of flight experience his palms were sweaty with trepidation.
One mistake and the world could end, he thought fearfully to himself.
He hadn't even felt this fear when transporting POTUS multiple times in the past.
Gulping down a ball of saliva that had manifested in his mouth, he put on a stoic expression and turned to his co-pilot, who was similarly looking worse for wear. He nodded, and saw the co-pilot tilt his head affirmatively. Picking up the microphone from beside his large dashboard full of controls, the pilot took a few seconds to calm his nerves before pushing the intercom.
"Altitude of five thousand feet. We'll be continuing our descent and we expect to touch ground in fifteen minutes."
His voice rang through the narrow fuselage, which carried the passengers. It was unremarkably small, but within it sat some of the most important people in America. On the left, the Secretary of State sat, gazing out through the rounded window as buildings began to emerge from the ground. On the far right the Secretary of Defense, who was answering important calls back home from his untraceable mobile phone.
Behind everyone in the fuselage stood a row of armed bodyguards, with their stereotypical jet-black sunglasses and suits. Beneath their shirts were layers of bulletproof armor.
Directly at the center of all mentioned above was the Very important Person that the world was watching out for. As he looked out at the same window that the Secretary of State was gazing out from, he shuddered and sank deeper into his uncomfortable suit, underneath which he was earlier requested to put on a similar bulletproof vest as the bodyguards standing behind him were wearing.
He had never felt more out of place.
Sensing the fear that the young boy was emitting, the First Lady shifted up closer to the boy and placed her hand comfortingly on his shoulder. He was shivering.
"It's going to be fine. Don't worry…all this is to protect you."
She prayed he wouldn't lose composure in the face of the important hosts they were about to visit, but in some sense she realized that blame could not be placed even if he failed to act as instructed.
He's so young, she thought to herself. How the fates taunt us.
With watery eyes, the young boy brushed his dirty-white hair, his most distinctive feature, out of his eyes and looked into the First Lady's own. She nearly melted at the innocence in his eyes.
"I don't understand why my mummy couldn't come."
A surge of pity ran through the First Lady's body as she realized how afraid and vulnerable the twelve year old must be feeling without his mother. It was not the first time the First Lady had questioned the sensibility of flying the young boy halfway across the world away from safe territory without his parents, but her advice to her husband had fallen on deaf ears.
Too much is at stake, she recalled the most important man in the United States saying. We should take advantage of this.
She couldn't find anything else to say to the young boy, and settled with leaning over and embracing him slightly. Slowly she felt his shivering cease and heard his breathing calm. Gently, she tried valiantly to deliver a dash of maternal quality to the terrified cub by whispering comforting words into his ear. She wasn't his mother, but it was the least she could do under the circumstance. She smiled as she felt him grip her hand firmly.
The plane landed.
Almost immediately, the bodyguards stepped forward and surrounded the boy's seat. The Secretary of State unbuckled her seatbelt as the Secretary of Defense stood up, eyeing the hoard of bodyguards carefully and watching them nod back, unspoken words exchanged between them.
The pilot opened the door to the cockpit and faced the waiting passengers. Breathing a sigh of relief at his successful landing, he turned to the Secretary of Defense and delivered a sharp salute, which the man responded to in kind.
"Sir, we have successfully landed at Vatican City."
"Thank you."
The First Lady felt the boy's grip grow tighter at their words.
The Secretary of Defense stepped up to the boy's seat as the surrounding sea of bodyguards parted. Kneeling down to meet the boy's eye, he smiled and spoke, sincerity running through his tone despite his slightly scary facial features.
"Mr Martin, we have arrived. Shall we proceed?"
The boy gulped and turned to the First Lady, who nodded encouragingly.
"Yes."
"Thank you, Mr Martin."
The boy stood from his seat and took a moment to find his legs, which were numb after the long flight. Shaking his head to clear it, he yelped a little in surprise as the Secretary of State suddenly appeared in front of him, fiddling with the buttons on his front. After smoothing out the creases on his black suit jacket, she proceeded to straighten his red tie.
"There's nothing to worry about, Mr Martin. We'll be with you the whole time."
The boy nodded nervously, trying to convince himself that everything will go fine and he'll find himself back in the hotel soon enough. The short grooming session was done, and the Secretary of State stepped back, allowing the hoard of bodyguards to surround the boy again. The one standing in front turned behind and spoke.
"Just stay close to me, Mr Martin."
Without waiting for a response, he turned back to face the front.
There was a sudden hiss as the pilot activated the hydraulic systems to the main exit door. Slowly, the door descended, and handlers outside the plane quickly moved a portable staircase to the side of the plane, locking it firmly to the body.
The air was filled with overwhelming screaming and cheering. The First Lady felt the boy tense up again, and gently rubbed his tense shoulder to calm him. This time the boy remained stiff, staring out at the vast crowd that had gathered around the military helicopter.
A chant erupted out from the crowd.
"Messiah! Messiah! Messiah!"
As they walked on the path that was to lead them to their destination a few hundred metres away, the twelve year old snuck a hand into his jacket pocket and rubbed one of the few things he was allowed to bring on the impromptu trip to visit a certain religious leader. Blankie's fabric gave him comfort under his fingers.
Calls of Messiah continued ringing through the air.
Cody wondered how long it would take for the world to forget his real name.
"Shocking. Just…shocking."
Carey Martin saw a group of malnourished children standing at the side of the road, staring inquisitively at the group of foreigners in the expensive vehicle that none of them would likely get even close to owning in their lives. Her heart broke a little as she saw a girl, of possibly no more than 6 years old, cradling her baby brother whose skin fell weakly over the obvious contours of his bones.
Zack gripped onto his mother's wrist for support, fighting the urge to throw up at the sights he was witnessing. From outside the vehicle he saw countless scores of dying children waiting at the sight of the road, some praying that the foreigners would be bringing what they needed for survival.
The sun burned down mercilessly on the land as malnourished as the people that stood upon it. The ground, dry as the surface of Mars, was cracked from lack of moisture.
It hadn't rained in years.
At the front of the jeep sat the driver, a member of the Union Government of India. Upon hearing the comment made by the lady sitting at the back of the jeep, he chimed in.
"As you can see, this place has been reduced to a terrible state because of the drought, similar to many other places in India. The government tries to send resources, but it is…difficult."
Cody turned his head and faced the man sitting next to him, speaking in a voice laced with judgment.
"Difficult, or too generous?"
The uncomfortable question rang through the jeep, causing the man to fall silent. Cody slowly turned his head back towards the side window and sighed audibly.
"The only reason why all this is happening…is because your government isn't trying hard enough, sir."
The man frowned as he took in the seemingly nonchalant comment. Who was this kid? Orders had come in from the Union Government an hour ago to pick up the child and his family from the airport, but he had not been prepared to deal with questions such as these. Matters to do with the Union Government were unknown to a small government worker such as him, but he was sure that they would not appreciate this attitude from their guest.
"I'm sorry Mr Martin, but I'm not obliged to offer comments about our government, though I would state that I believe they are doing the best they can to handle the situation."
The look the eerily calm child flashed him rang clear with amusement, making the man feel somewhat uncomfortable. He waited for a scathing comment, but didn't get one as Cody shrugged and continue his vacant stare out of the window.
The sun burned painfully down upon the jeep and the ground it drove on.
They had arrived at the checkpoint.
The group of four stepped out of the vehicle as government soldiers approached it. Removing a letter from the government from the dashboard, the driver showed it to the soldiers, who scrutinized the signature closely. Satisfied that the letter was genuine, the soldiers nodded and raised the barrier that kept the jeep from passing the checkpoint.
Carey, Zack, and the driver got into the jeep, and realized that the fourth passenger wasn't present. Looking out of the window, Carey saw her other son kneeling down on the side of the road, talking to a young child. Cody hair, white as the heavens, shone brightly under the hot sun.
"Cody! We need to go!"
Cody turned around and gestured to his mother to wait for a moment. Refocusing his attention to the young girl, he heard a desperate plea from her lips.
"Sir…help. No water. No food. Brother…die."
Cody hadn't heard anything more depressing in his life.
Resting a hand on the young girl's shoulder, he looked around at the barren, empty landscape. Afflicted by drought, the ground was completely unsuitable for farming, dry shards of soil lying testament to the miscare that the people were under.
Perhaps I could start here.
Realizing that it was probably a good idea, Cody stood up. The large eyes of the girl followed him, along with 3 inquisitive pairs of eyes from the jeep a few meters away. Cody redirected his attention to the center of a once proud piece of plantation; it's foundations still standing upright despite the sandy, barren ground.
It was time to fix things.
Cody strode up to the center of the plantation and stared up at the blazing hot sun.
How does this go again?
He closed his eyes and stretched his arm outwards, feet slightly apart, bending slightly backwards to ensure that he was still facing the sun.
Back in the jeep, the driver was now staring at the guest as though he were crazy. He wondered how the twelve year old was not burning up despite the black suit he was wearing. Looking at his two family members sitting in the vehicle, he flashed them a bewildered expression, longing for an explanation. What he didn't expect was for the blonde-haired twin brother to grin knowingly back at him.
"Just watch."
The driver redirected his attention back to the young boy standing at the center of the plantation.
A mystical air seemed to suddenly fill the jeep as the pressure of the atmosphere suddenly lifted.
A drop of moisture hit the head of the malnourished girl, who stared up at the sky. Another drop then hit the ground next to her.
Another drop.
And another.
And another.
Within seconds, a torrential downpour fell from the cloudless heavens and hit the dying earth, soaking the dry shards of the ground and utterly drenching Cody and the young girl, who now rose to her feet and started running around in jubilation, shouting in Hindi.
"Water! Water! Water!"
From within the nearby hut emerged the girl's family, in utter shock at the scene that was unfolding before them. Almost immediately, the matriarch of the family gasped and cupped her mouth with her hands, joyous tears rolling down her sunken cheeks. The rest of the family stepped out into the plantation and shouted merrily at the sky, thanking God for their salvation. Two young children then emerged and opened their mouths, drinking the sky's essence thirstily.
In the jeep, the driver yelled and threw open the door to the jeep, nearly tripping over his own feet as he practically ran out of the vehicle and allowed himself to be soaked by the land's long deserved rain. A few meters away, the working guards dropped their weapons and waved their arms elatedly at the sky, clearly breaching security code by not having their guns on them, but uncaring towards the rules just this once.
Zack smiled gleefully at the thrilled people and looked at his mother, whose face held a similarly blissful expression.
"He did it again, Mom."
Carey smiled and hugged Zack closer to her, relishing in the joy that her other son was bringing to the malnourished people.
"He did it, Zack. Cody did it."
At the center of the plantation, Cody finally lowered his arms and bent over slightly, out of breath. He was not yet used to large efforts such as what he had just done. Suddenly, he was nearly knocked over by a weight that grabbed onto his torso. Looking closely in front of him, he saw that the young girl, half his age, now gripping onto his suit jacket, looking affectionately at the boy who had just saved them.
"Saviour. Saviour."
The rest of the girl's family strode up to Cody and, to his horror, went down on their knees and started bowing to him. Hastily, he grabbed the hands of the matriarch and directed her to stand, shouting out desperately to the rest of the family to stand as well.
"There's no need, really. I'm just doing my job."
The matriarch started speaking to him in Hindi, in words that he did not understand. However, the gratitude in her eyes was unmistakable. Cody smiled back at her and nodded knowingly. Looking at the happy faces of the family standing in front of him, Cody now understood what he could do.
He could save the world.
"…and that's why you're being granted this."
Cody shifted from his cross-legged position uncomfortably and stared up at the figure standing in front of him. The figure was looking down at him with a blank, unreadable expression on his face.
"I don't understand…why me?"
"I can't answer that."
"But I'm only twelve! How could I possibly…"
"God works in surprising ways, Cody Martin."
"And that's what, the tenth time you've said to me since the start of this conversation?" Cody couldn't resist letting out a tiny growl. "Are you sure you aren't talking to the wrong person? I'll have you know that I'm an atheist."
"Words like those mean nothing to my God."
Frustrated, Cody placed his hands on his head and groaned, frustrated. He wondered why the figure wouldn't just let him sleep.
"Fine…let's say that whatever you described does indeed happen. What happens to me?"
"You'll be granted unfathomable power, and you'll save the rest of humanity."
"Are you being purposefully vague and obtuse?"
"I only speak what my God commands me to."
Biting back the urge to make a sarcastic comment, Cody instead focused on getting more information from his midnight visitor.
"What kind of power?"
"Ever read the Bible, young man?"
Cody shook his head.
"Comic books?"
Surprised, Cody nodded despite himself.
"Something along those lines, then."
Cody spent the next few seconds trying to comprehend the figure's words. The figure didn't seem as religious as the messengers or angels that fiction would depict them to be.
"So you're saying…I'll get…powers…that I'll eventually use to save the world?"
"Precisely."
Cody frowned.
"Why would the world need saving?"
The figure then frowned ominously.
"Sometimes seemingly ungrounded speculation is true."
"What?"
"You'll understand as time passes, Cody Martin."
Cody, now more confused as ever, was starting to develop a slight headache.
"I need to leave now, but I'll be back when the time comes. I have one last piece of advice…"
The figure then knelt down and rested a finger on Cody's nose, which he didn't brush away.
"Don't let it take over you."
And with that, he was gone.
When Cody woke up the next morning, he found on his head a mass of snowy white hair, and as the figure had described, unfathomable power.
It was time for yet another chapter to unfold in the history of mankind.
Author's Note – This story is called "Messiah", which is an anglicized word in Hebrew which refers to a saviour or redeemer figure. This story has been at the back of my mind for a very long time, and I no longer can suppress the urge to write it. The idea of a child messiah has admittedly been with me for ages. Readers who saw the first version of "Messiah" (which I have deleted) would have realized that the old version depended too much on OCs and was slightly painful to read. I decided on a rewrite to reinspire myself and make the story more appealing to all my readers.
This prologue was written based off excerpts from the main story. The story, as you will all realize as I continue writing, will reveal most importantly the strength of power and the terrors that come along with it. Think of it as a less frightening Suite Life version of Death Note (if you don't know what this is, google it).
I enjoy writing in different styles, as readers of my older fic "Food Therapy" would be able to observe based on the differences between that incredibly family oriented story and this slightly spiritual one. I would also like to bring out the fact that I am (like Cody) an atheist, which means that I'm running this story entirely on raw inspiration.
Do join me on this journey. Shall we?
~SUITELIFEFAN