Sacrifice – chpt 8 – s.n. fic.
by: sifi
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"… okay wait I've seen this guy before…" Sam said with furrowed brows as he sifted through the pictures of a different cylinder.
"Right… this is Marduk the patron deity of Babylon…" Esther Tilter smiled as Sam reached for yet another picture, his confusion evident.
"But this guy... this is Etemenanki right?" he asked holding a different picture beside the one she held, "They look identical…"
"Etemenanki is just another name for Marduk…" she nodded and Sam was glad she couldn't feel his heart racing in his chest.
Waaaay to freakin' big! he groaned inwardly.
"…and Marduk rose through the pantheon because of Babylon?... so where would Nimrod fit into all this?"
"Well it's a fairly well known fact that there were actually two towers of Babel, at least among historians anyway… It's said that Marduk tried to get Nimrod to charge the heavens but Nimrod wouldn't do it and so God rewarded him with the ability to manifest whatever he needed for the rest of his days… which in biblical times could've been quite a long time…"
"Right…" Sam nodded finding himself genuinely fascinated by the story unfolding around him. I wonder if she knows about the bell…
"… well later, when Nebuchadnezzar the 2nd discovered the ruins of Nimrod's tower…"
"Hold on a second… the story says that God knocked the tower down… was that Nimrod's or Nebuchadnezzar's?" he asked.
Miss Tilter nodded smiling, "Yes I'm afraid it's a rather persistent rumor because of its mention in the bible… but the older bibles don't even say that God himself struck down the tower… at least not in so many words… the story is used as an explanation for why there are many races and languages… but actual historical texts from the region… as well as cylinders like these tell a somewhat different story…and to answer your question… both towers fell as you well know… it's probable that one or both of them fell from all the geologic disturbances in the region…or time or simply that the materials couldn't stand up to the stresses…"
Lady if you only knew half the things I've seen… he thought and nodded, "…so Nebuchadnezzar decided to re-build the tower, but this time in homage to God..."
"Right…" she smiled again and showed him yet another cylinder, "See this one here tells how Marduk was slowly elevated over time through the pantheon of deities, his status grew as did the kingdom of Babylon… Nebuchadnezzar's Babylon that is…and eventually he became the supreme God of that pantheon…"
"…well what about Enki? Wasn't he the supreme God at that time?" Sam asked, his mind swimming with all the facts he'd absorbed earlier in the day.
"Yes he was... you've done quite a bit of research haven't you?" she asked as Sam nodded and his eyes fell onto a fearsome serpentine figure on one of the cylinders, "… and is this a character in the pantheon or is this just a decoration?" he asked stroking his finger over the dragon-like frieze.
"Actually, that would be Tiamat… she's supposed to have 'roared and smote in the chaos of creation' pretty much the originator of life on the planet…"
"Lemme guess… she had a tendency to be cruel…" Sam surmised using what he knew of most 'mother nature' type deities.
Miss Tilter nodded, obviously pleased to have such an attentive companion for the afternoon, "I'm afraid you're right, she had a reputation for being quite ruthless, and more than just occasionally cruel… I'm impressed…Mr. Edwards…how long have you been studying Babylonian Deities?" she asked.
"Not long really…" he shook his head, Oh just a couple days, but that's always the way it seems to go… but hey at least I was smart enough to take some basic theology courses in Freshman year… Easy A's…he smiled to himself.
"Well getting back to Enki and Marduk… Enki was Marduk's father…"
"So with Marduk assuming the supreme God position…it's a case of the son surpassing the father…" Sam surmised.
"Exactly…but the interesting thing is that Enki gave the throne willingly to his son in recognition of his superiority. See Enki…" she started and sifted until she found yet another pertinent picture and pointed to a masculine figure wearing a horned headdress, "Enki was known as a peacemaker between the Gods… or between the Gods and men, pretty much wherever he was needed… he was very much a purveyor of balance, of harmony… in some histories he was responsible also for both fertility and rebirth since it was he who taught man how to utilize the Earth and replenish it so that it would always be fruitful and that man's existence would be in harmony with the world…" she nodded.
Sam shivered beside her, a chill running up his spine. He knew that almost every culture on Earth had deities that were almost identical but there was something about the figure of Enki that struck a chord. Why does it seem like the same deities keep coming up? Even if they're from different cultures… I mean Cernunnos… hello God of fertility and rebirth… how coincidental is it? How coincidental can it really be? IS there such a thing as coincidence…I mean…threads wound around threads…I mean it looks EXACTLY like…oh man… does it mean what I think…well…how… oh man, so big… so VERY big… I can't think about this… he consciously pushed the thoughts into some nearby mental closet but his mouth didn't get the message.
"Enki didn't by any chance happen to be in love with Tiamat? or some other Goddess of Vengeance or something did he?" he asked having been fully informed by both Laura and Dean about what had transpired in the veiled realm between Cernunnos and Morrigan. I wonder if she ever told Dean? Something tells me…no, huh well it's not my place…
"Goodness no… Enki was the consort of the Goddess Inanna… She was the Goddess of love…" Esther Tilter chuckled and cast a curious glance at the young man beside her as he sighed almost with relief.
"Oh…Well… of course there is the whole Battle Maiden thing too…" she smiled.
Sam choked a bit and looked at her sidelong, "'scuse me?" he asked weakly.
"Oh yes… Inanna was as enthusiastic in battle as she was in love…" she grinned and dug up another of the pictures where she pointed out a female figure standing on the backs of two lionesses, reins in her hand and long hair flying. then slid her finger down on the same cylinder, "…and this would be Eereshkigal, Inanna's sister and Goddess of the Underworld…it's said she killed Inanna… but that's just one interpretation," she said.
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"Now that's what I'm talkin' about…" Dean smiled finding at the bottom of the crate a large photo album bound with cord and two black, leather covered boards so that more pages could be added as desired. He sat cross legged amidst another person's prized possessions and opened the book.
The first page was age yellowed parchment inscribed in Calligraphic writing with a family tree that dated back to 1702 when the first generation of Turnbull's arrived on American soil.
The first photographs of course were from the late 19th century and as he studied the manner of dress his mind shot back to a small town in Southern Illinois and a woman named Adrienne Stevens who'd been turned into a piece of driftwood as a warning from a Dryad, I wonder if Paul was able to get that sorted out and get his sister back… hmm I wonder if I should call him and find out…course if he didn't he might not want to be reminded about it…I could check it out without involving him I guess… yeah, I'll have to do that when this is over… he thought knowing that by the time they'd brought Paul Photopolous to the Dryad to re-make the family deal, they'd already been fighting a very bad feeling about their friend and fellow hunter, Laura. A feeling which turned out to have had some merit behind it, Ah, I miss her… jeez it's been what? man almost five weeks since I saw her… well at least I know she's back on top of her game… that's my girl… he smiled to himself and continued flipping through the pages, his mind half on the photos and the other half on his mental image of the sparkle in her eyes when he told her that she belonged to him as much as any person could belong to another. Maybe one day we'll get the opportunity to really be together…maybe…he thought as his eye caught on a picture taken in the early 1950's, at what appeared to be some kind of archeological dig site.
"What the hell?" he frowned and examined the faces of the two boys who stood shoulder to shoulder like brothers grinning and holding a bronze cylinder similar to any of the eight of them sitting on the floor on the other side of the storage closet. He pulled the photo gently from beneath the glued on corners that held it in place and flipped it over.
"Syria 1952… Babylon dig… Emil and Hiram … the Cylinder relates the story of Nimrod and the first tower – Donated 1952 – Metro Museum."
He turned the photo over again and gazed into the two faces then set the book down and while holding the picture in one hand started flipping through the pages scanning them quickly until he came to what he'd been looking for. He figured both boys were in the same class as children since they'd obviously been friends for that long. He scanned the photo of the twenty two faces that belonged to the 5th grade class and made sure he was reading the names with the right faces. It wasn't too difficult since each boy was at the opposite end of the alphabet and subsequently on a different line of photos.
"Son of a bitch…" he huffed almost amused as he sat back looking between the two pictures. "Sam!" he said to himself suddenly and pulled his phone.
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"I can't thank you enough for your time Miss Tilter… it's been… somewhat overwhelming…" Sam smiled stuffing his notebook into the book bag and shaking her hand, his eyes sparkling largely in response to her enthusiasm and light flirtation. He was just glad she couldn't feel the flock of raptors that kept gnawing at his insides.
"Yes, unfortunately that's pretty much the definition of a 'crash course' isn't it?" she smiled and winked as he edged back down the hall. She continued to watch as he turned a few steps later and raised his hand in a half wave which she returned still smiling as she kept her eyes glued to his butt until he'd rounded the corner out of sight. Oh yeah… I love 'em at that age…he's probably an all night-er too… man I love 'em at that age… she sighed inside and retreated to her office where the rest of her work day was largely blown in favor of lascivious daydreams.
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Sam walked a few blocks down, enjoying the beautiful autumn day and headed toward the University where he'd planned to hang out at the coffee shop and organize both his notes and his thoughts, maybe get it all down into the computer so that when he got back to the motel later on he could just have Dean read the file rather than having to say too much aloud in front of Martin. He had to acknowledge that Dean had a point about the boy. With all the information swirling madly through his brain, both what pertained to this particular case as well as the parallels that it seemed could be drawn to their own lives, it might just be better to keep it as close to the vest as possible. So, he would get himself organized, spill what he'd learned and what he suspected into a couple different folders while he awaited the right time to get into Emil Fredrick's office.
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A wrenching steel sound rolled through the floor above him and set his neck hairs standing on end while his finger hovered over Sam's highlighted number on his cell phone, just before the lights in the storage room started to flicker and his phone went dead. Plaster dust drifted down and ice shot through him as the door slammed shut, and the lights went out.
"Son of a bitch!" he yelled fishing out his lighter and striking the wheel as he felt more plaster dust drift down to tickle his nose. "Don't even think about it… oh for the love of God don't even think about that…" he reprimanded himself as the idea of the whole stairwell coming down on him flashed through his mind.
He grasped the door knob, turned and pushed but just as he knew would be the case, it wouldn't open. He tried pulling too, just on the off chance he was trying to open it the wrong way and decided he was pretty well screwed unless his buddy Mr. Misty had shut him up in here to hide him from whatever made that chilling Godzilla-like cry.
Deja Freakin' vous! Man I'm really starting to get a Boogeyman complex here…Damn that Kripke… guy makes a movie like that…don't think about it Dean, just don't think about it…fear manifesting… don't we get enough of that! he growled internally and put his lighter and phone into his pockets, then prepared to charge the door, For all the good it'll do… I'll probably wind up dislocating my shoulder… what the hell? he wondered as a faint orange glow grew within one of the cylinders until it was almost white. Even from a distance of several feet away he could feel the heat emanating from it and he recoiled, the brightness and heat driving him away from the door to the rear of the storage closet.
He noticed a whistling at the edge of his hearing and though he couldn't bear to look at the white hot cylinder, How come it's not melted yet? Bronze has a very low melting point…he wondered knowing the sound was coming from that very item. A metallic pop and wrenching sound later and he watched a stream of orange fiery fury snake its way toward him, Ah my kingdom for a shotgun with rocksalt! Brilliant Dean… just freakin' brilliant! Or some holy water… yeah water would be good right now… son of a bitch! he ducked down, squeezing himself into the tightest ball he could, hoping that the thing was just trying to get out and would bypass him, but it was not to be.
He gasped and choked, feeling his airway fill with killing heat as whatever it was that had been unleashed picked him up by his neck and held him pinned to the wall. The heat spread to his lungs and he could smell something cooking before he realized it was himself.
Behind him the wall vibrated and a dull thud was felt more than heard as something struck the door, Thank God… Hurry up Sam! I'm not the one that they're supposed to choke…crap, can't breathe…man I'm cooking in my own skin…sheesh what'd I say to that Wendigo? I taste good? Man that's really just gross… he thought choking and gasping for any air he could get that wasn't going to finish burning his lungs out of his body. If he'd had air enough in his searing lungs, or if whatever it was that was killing him would just back off a bit, Dean Winchester would have started to howl out the agony that was trapped inside his head and body even as his eyes darkened and he gave in to unconsciousness.
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tbc.
Once again, kind of expositional,
hope it didn't detract from the chapter
hopefully 9 will have more action.
Please let me know what you're thinking.
Thanks
sifi
