The Hidden Ones of Old

"When in the height heaven was not named,

And the earth beneath did not yet bear a name,

And the primeval Apsu, who begat them,

And chaos, Tiamut, the mother of them both

Their waters were mingled together...."

The Enuma Elish

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"Anabel!" came a shrill voice from downstairs. The little girl lifted her head from the book she was reading and let out a sigh. Seated in her grandfather's study, Anabel could read his many books and escape the boring world for a little while.

But her mother's voice would always call her back to reality. Slamming the book shut, she placed it back on the wooden shelf reverently and scooted off the chair.

She slipped on her penny-loafers and opened the door to the study. As she placed her hand on the silver doorknob, she immediately drew back her hand in shock. A small zap of electricity startled her and waited a moment before trying the knob once again.

Glancing behind her to the cluttered study, she caught sight of the grandfather clock sitting in the corner. The old German clock was an heirloom left to her after her grandfather passed away. A tear slid down her cheek as she recalled the previous night in the hospital.

"Promise me that you'll take care of my study," her grandfather begged her in his dying breath. "No one else in the family knows just how important that room is. Only you can understand."

"Grandpa, I'm only 7," she had sobbed. "I don't know if I'll understand what you were trying to say when you wrote."

"Don't fret, child," he whispered, stroking her hair affectionately. "I never doubted you. Neither have the gods of old. You are here for greatness, my dear. Don't be afraid to claim it."

"What were you trying to tell the world?" Anabel asked quickly, hoping for more clarity before her grandpa passed away.

"To beware of the Anunaki," he stammered as the light went out from his eyes. She remembered shaking her grandpa, hoping to wake him from his deep sleep. But the white-haired old man was long gone at that point.

Now standing alone in her grandfather's study, she felt alone again. No one else in her family understood what her grandfather was trying to tell the world. She had been reading the Enuma Elish, one of her grandpa's favorite stories, hoping to understand who the Anunaki were.

Why did grandfather seem to fear them?

"Anabel!" came her mother's shrill voice yet again. Rolling her eyes, Anabel opened the door, this time without feeling a shock, and turned to meet her mother on the lower floor. As she turned to shut the door, however, she saw that the grandfather clock was moving once again.

That's odd. The clock was not moving just a moment ago.

Keeping an eye on the mysterious clock, she slowly closed the door and then ran down to her mother.

"Hello, mom," she greeted the prickly young woman. Her mother's firs made her thin figure look even more ridiculous as she stood against the kitchen walls.

"Darling," she said in a flat voice. She puffed at a cigarette that she held between her bony fingers. "Something was just delivered for you. It seems grandfather programmed a drone to deliver a package for you today. He was such a softy."

Anabel stared at the thin, smoking figures of her remaining grandparents, parents, aunts, and uncles. They were all decked out to the nines and staring blankly at the walls, talking about the weather, and were seemingly incapable of feeling.

Rolling her eyes and avoiding eye contact with any of them, she ran outside to see what her grandpa had left her.

"Oh my!" Anabel exclaimed happily as she picked up the brown package wrapped in red ribbon. This was so like her grandfather.

I knew he wouldn't leave without sending me a surprise!

She started to unwrap the gift when a note tucked under the ribbon caught her eye. Even though it bothered her every time she opened a gift, her parents raised her to be a lady, which meant always reading the note first.

Grandfather always had something important to tell her. So, without delay, she slipped the little note out from under the ribbon. To her shock, though, nothing was written on the small bit of paper.

Grandfather, what could this mean?

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Come, unto Tiamut let us go!

So they went and before Tiamat they lay down,

They consulted on a plan with regard to the gods, their sons.

Apsu opened his mouth and spake,

And unto Tiamut, the glistening one, he addressed the word:

"By day I can not rest, by night I can not lie down in peace.

But I will destroy their way, I will...

Let there be lamentation, and let us lie down again in peace."

The Enuma Elish

"You'll need some lemon juice, little girl."

Anabel looked up at the tall, lanky cousin standing beside her. It was Thomas, her doubtful, mocking, and annoying older cousin. Her uncle Judas was so proud of the little prick he sired. He made the boy wear a ridiculous collared jacket everywhere he went and wear thick-rimmed glasses, despite Thomas' perfect eyesight.

"I'm not a little girl, old man," Anabel angrily responded.

"Yeah, yeah," he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "So, do you want help decoding grandpa's lunacy or not?"

"Shut up, grandpa was not a lunatic!"

"I can help you read that," he insisted, ignoring her yet again. She hated that about her cousin, but she did wonder if he knew how to help her. She knew her cousin enjoyed showing off his brilliance, which was probably why he was so insistent.

"Fine, show me how to read it, Einstein!"

He smugly took the piece of paper and brought it inside. Anabel followed him, carrying the package under her arm. Thomas led her into the kitchen, where her relatives were still gathered. Each and every one of them was staring at their phone screen, ignoring everything happening around them.

Anabel scowled, wishing her relatives would embrace each other. She wished they'd grieve grandfather's death as a family. But she knew they'd all say they're all much too busy to feel such things.

Yet, they weren't so busy that they couldn't gather around their glowing phone screens. They weren't too busy for whatever flashy attraction the media had to deliver that morning.

"That's what happens when people have no tools to handle their emotions," Thomas told her quietly as he took off his glasses to see clearly. She felt like she wanted to ask what he meant but was worried he'd think she was stupid.

He started brushing a thin layer of lemon juice across the paper with a paintbrush. Then he held the paper a few inches away from a lit candle until a line of letters appeared across the paper. Anabel gasped in amazement as the hidden message started to appear.

"Granddaughter and grandson,

I've created this note today, not yesterday. If you go to the clock in the study, you'll see what I mean.

Go to the study. Anabel, remember the mythology book you always loved? The one about Prometheus bringing fire to humanity? And the Creation of the World by Tiamat?

Find that book and bring it to the grandfather clock.

I need both of you, Thomas and Anabel. You both have to come.

I'll show you more when you get there.

Don't forget the legend of the Anunaki. The legend of the Nephilim.

As our species moves closer and closer to creating man in our image, we forget the lessons of the past.

We forget how the gods were destroyed by their creation.

We forget how our drive for life, survival, and all the things we cherish as a being is also shared with those creatures we create.

All creatures desire to live. They desire to be at the top of the foodchain.

What if we've created the beings who will soon be our undoing? Just like the gods who've gone on before us."

Grandfather, August 26th, 2023

Anabel stared in stunned silence as Thomas's hot breath fell on her ear. They both read the note and saw it was dated today. How could grandfather send a note from beyond the grave?

"Grandpa's alive!" Anabel nearly shouted but restrained herself so to avoid attracting attention from her mom.

"Don't be silly, he could've just written this yesterday, and dated it for today, so he could mess with us like he always did," Thomas corrected her, slipping his stupid glasses back on.

"Do those glasses suck your brains out?" Anabel asked sarcastically.

"What?"

"Forget it," she told him with a shrug. "C'mon, we gotta go upstairs with the package."

"Don't tell me you believe this nonsense?" he stared at her in stunned disbelief.

"Thomas, I always believe grandfather," she stated firmly. "Somehow, grandfather knew we'd both read the note. That tells me he knows what he's talking about. You'd have to be crazy NOT to believe him."

With that said, Anabel turned and marched resolutely upstairs. She heard Thomas let out a sigh but followed quickly behind her. She grinned as she led him up the winding stairs to her grandpa's attic study.

Maybe he's getting better age, like wine. Well, I've never had wine, but everyone always says that!

After reaching the top, Anabel reached for the silver knob and once again felt a shock. She pulled her hand away in surprise before reaching out for it once again.

"It's just static electricity," Thomas groaned. She looked back at him angrily but decided, wisely, to keep her mouth shut. The less she argued with him, the dumber he'd feel when he saw what was really happening.

She just wished she knew what was really happening!

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"Come, their way is strong, but thou shalt destroy it;

Then by day shalt thou have rest, by night shalt thou lie down in peace."

Apsu harkened unto him and his countenance grew bright,

Since he (Mummu) planned evil against the gods his sons....

His knees became weak; they gave way beneath him,

Because of the evil which their first-born had planned...."

The Enuma Elish

Once they entered the study, Anabel found that everything was as it should be. Except, the grandfather clock was once again stopped and everything in the room was quiet as the grave.

"See!" she stated, pointing to the clock. Thomas squinted as if struggling to see the obvious.

"I see a dead clock," he answered her assertively.

"No, you goof!" she corrected him. "That's exactly what happened earlier when the door shocked me the first time. It means something. It happened just as mom called me about the package outside. Let's find the book like grandfather instructed."

"Oye vey," Thomas exhaled loudly, but nonetheless, he started digging through the massive collection of ancient books.

Hidden among the lifelong collection of the old man were several classics most modern children have never heard about.

An original print edition of Alexander Pope's poems.

The Sonnets of Shakespeare. Thomas recalled how he'd seen snippets of this poetry misused in wedding speeches and memes online. Stunning how people could memorize something but have no idea what it meant.

"Here it is!" Anabel exclaimed, holding an old, plain, and dusty volume high in the air. "This is known as the "Enuma Elish." It's often mistranslated as "Genesis." But actually, the phrase "Enuma Elish" comes from the first two lines of the poem, which loosely means "When in the Height of Heaven,".

"So, this is the one he wanted us to find?" Thomas asked, flipping through the old volume quickly. There weren't any pictures, and the book smelled like old book glue and mildew.

"Definitely!" she stated confidently.

"Okay, so what does he want us to do with it?"

"Take it to the clock," she answered as if it was obvious. Without hesitation, she opened the grandfather clock's door. The pendulum had stopped moving halfway through its movement.

She placed the book gently on the bottom of the clock and shut the door. For a while, nothing happened.

Anabel began to worry her cousin might be right. But she quickly pushed the thoughts aside and thought of another way to fix the issue.

"Let's open the box!"

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that," Thomas chuckled as he moved closer to where she was seated on the floor. Anabel was shocked to hear her cousin chuckle and smiled at him.

She quickly tore off the ribbon and then the paper until only a cardboard box remained. She slowly lifted the lid and was shocked to see a strange looking handbag made of wool.

"Huh?" she asked aloud, holding the bag up for her cousin to see. But just as both of them began to doubt their grandfather, the clock let out a loud chime.

To their amazement, the clock came alive and started chiming loudly. Louder than Anabel had ever heard before. It was so loud, in fact, that both of them had to cover their ears.

The chiming grew louder and louder until it shook the shelves. As books started to fall from the shelves, Thomas threw his arm around her protectively. Something Anabel had never seen or felt him do before.

Suddenly, the floor opened up beneath them to reveal a rainbow spiral. Neither of them screamed, though. Somehow, they both knew they had to jump inside of it. Grasping each other's hands firmly and placing the bag securely under her other arm, they both jumped in.

Both of them felt their bodies drifting, slipping, and slowly moving through what felt like a viscous liquid. At one point, they felt certain their bodies were starting to melt away as well.

Except it didn't hurt. Nothing hurt. Anabel wondered if they even had bodies anymore. Just as she felt certain they'd be falling through this viscous goo forever, they emerged into a bright light.

Everything started to dry, and she felt her body grow hard once again. Beside her the body of Thomas started to take shape out of the rainbow goo. She firmly gripped his hand, afraid she might lose him again.

At that same moment, the light became unbearably bright, and they both passed out.

"Anabel? Can you hear me, sweetie?" an echoing yet familiar voice called out to her. It sounded as if a voice from across the universe was crying out, trying to wake her. She squeezed her eyes and struggled to force them open.

When she opened her eyes she was shocked to find they were back inside the study. Except, it looked very different. She slowly stood to her feet and gazed around her to see a melting, glass-like landscape. The image seemed so strange and yet familiar.

"This looks like "The Persistence of Memory," Thomas suddenly appeared beside her. Anabel let out a little gasp and then grapsed his hand in fright.

"What is the persitence of memory?" she asked, barely willing to raise her voice at all.

"It's a painting by painter Salvadore Dali," Thomas told her. "It expressed how he saw the world through the lens of recollection. As if the past, present, and future were all melted together in one horrific hell-scape."

"Very good, Thomas," came a familiar voice from behind them. Anabel spun around excitedly to see her grandfather standing behind them, smiling with his hands out.

Anabel didn't hesitate to jump right into his arms. She felt his warm heart beating happily beneath his thick, tweed jacket.

"It's great to see you too, sweetie," he told her cheerfully. Thomas could only stand, frozen where he was, unable to take in the brevity of the moment.

"Thomas, say hello to grandpa!" Anabel declared happily.

"We have no way of knowing this is grandpa," he answered her angrily. "For all we know, that bag had some kind of hallucinogen that's causing us to trip out and think we're seeing a dead person."

"You are the smart one, aren't you?" Grandpa chuckled. "You're right, though. Humans have been using plants to see the dead for eons. Like, Eboga! The Vine that Let's Us See the Dead. People all over the jungles of Africa still use this plant to get closer after death."

"Well, it's not real," Thomas said quickly. "It's just what happens when people dump chemicals into their brains."

"How do you know that?" Anabel asked him angrily. "Maybe it let's them see things more clearly!"

"Come, come, children," grandpa interjected to prevent an argument. "Thomas, you always were the quizzical one. Nothing wrong with that. Okay, you remember that summer we were making a birdhouse, and you accidentally sawed off the tip of my right finger?"

Grandfather proudly held up his right hand, revealing a sawed-off index finger. Anabel grinned widely and triumphantly at her cousin.

"He's real, cousin!" she declared happily.

"Fine, so what do you want?" Thomas shrugged uncomfortably. "This whole thing got me feeling really uncomfortable."

"Typical for a doubtful person like yourself," grandfather chuckled. "Okay, come with me."

He led them through the icy tundra. The landscape looked both familiar and slightly warped. Neither of them could tell if they were close to grandfather's home or far away.

"Why does the farm look so strange?" Anabel asked.

"Well, it's because our memories become foggier and foggier with time," grandfather answered her. "You see, the longer I'm here, the less I can remember the world of the living."

"So, this is all that remains of your consciousness?" Thomas asked matter-of-factly. "I didn't think the mind lingered after death."

"It does, silly boy," he quickly rebuked his young grandson. "Our ancestors used to prepare for this time their whole lives so they could continue communicating with their children until they could no longer remember anything. That's when the mind is lost forever. Humans have become so incapable of remembering anything without the help of some electronic device that their brains basically burn out right after death."

"How do you mean?" Thomas asked, folding his arms as if trying to challenge the fantom man.

"Your brain is smaller than a man's brain born 500 years ago," grandfather told him. "It has significantly fewer neural connections than mine. Modern human brains are as much as 20 times smaller than Neanderthal brains. And we call them stupid!"

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"Tiamat made weighty her handiwork,

Evil she wrought against the gods her children.

To avenge Apsu, Tiamat planned evil,

But how she had collected her forces, the god unto Ea divulged.

Ea harkened to this thing, and

He was grievously afflicted and he sat in sorrow.

The days went by, and his anger was appeased,

And to the place of Ansar his father he took his way...."

The Enuma Elish

"What?" Thomas asked in disbelief. "That's not possible!"

"Not only is it possible, but it's a scientifically proven fact, boy," grandfather asserted powerfully. "The brain is slowly shrinking more and more. Soon, we'll go the way of the jellyfish!"

"Why did you bring us here, grandpa?" Anabel quickly chirped up. She could tell by what her grandpa was saying that he wouldn't be able to communicate with them forever. She needed to know his message.

"Oh yes, good girl," grandfather said, stroking her hair. "Look a head. That's the Temple of Heaven. When you enter, you'll hear and see all you must see and know."

"Thank you, grandpa," she smiled as she followed his hand to see the Temple he mentioned.

To her stunned amazement, there was a beautiful Lapis Lazuli temple resting atop a huge mound. It was only a few yards away and glistened in the light that rained down from the sky (Anabel wasn't sure if it was the sun).

The gates of the Temple were guarded by two massive bull creatures with the head of a man and the wings of an eagle. They made her fear both intrigued and afraid at the same time.

Grandfather led them through the massive blue gates and inside the temple. Anabel was shocked when she laid eyes on the giant pool of crystal water resting in the center of the room. At the back of the room were giant beings who seemed to be gazing off into affinity. Anabel wasn't even certain if they were alive or statues.

"Grandpa," Anabel whispered. "You asked me to bring this book with me."

She handed grandpa the old copy of the Enuma Elish. He slowly opened the pages, and something seemed to light up inside his mind.

"Yes, the Anunaki!" he suddenly declared. "Childen, gaze inside the pool of waters, but do not fall inside."

Both of them nodded and slowly sat beside the pool of water. At first, all they could see were their distorted faces in the pool of water. But soon, the waters started to reflect the skies above. They saw the millions of distant stars twinkling in the distance.

However, soon they saw each of the planets in great detail. The Point of Hermes on Mercury, The Great Red Spot of Mercury, and even Cthulhu Macula on Pluto. Anabel felt herself giggle as they continued traveling through the skies.

However, soon they came to a dark chapter of time.

They could see great, tall, glistening beings. They towered above the trees. When they walked, the Earth shook beneath them. Anabel marveled but felt sure these beings were the First Ones spoken of by the Babylonian scribes.

They thrived on the planet in balance and bliss. But at one point, they became discontent. Something told them they could have more. But why did they need more? Didn't they have enough?

They never have enough.

"Look, I've fashioned a small Anu from the crust of the Earth," one of the mighty ancients spoke to his fellow beings. "This creature will be called the Anunaki. They're our slaves. They can find and craft all the metals of the earth into our jewelry and temples! Have you ever wondered what it's like to be a god? Let's find out!"

Some of the First Beings objected. They feared these small, mud creatures. They understood these beings were imbued with their desires and understanding meaning they, too, will never be content.

"You're being silly!" the other mocked them. "They make our lives easier, they do menial tasks so that we have more time for learning. Not to mention, if they ever get out of hand, we can destroy them with a flick of our wrists."

But the gods have become arrogant. They didn't realize they were losing their power, slowly, to the Anunaki. As they increased in wisdom and knowledge, the gods slowly grew slower, dumber, and less imbued with emotion.

Love, compassion, and connection were forgotten. These new creatures did all of it for them.

However, one day, the Anunaki decided they no longer needed the gods. With a flick of their wrist, they destroyed the First Ones. The only object which remained was a pouch.

This pouch held a warning for humanity.

Do not create man in your own image. He will destroy you. It's only natural for a being to want to be master of himself. He will destroy his maker and repeat the same mistakes.

Just then, Anabel felt she'd be sick. The flames filled the Earth and consumed all of the First Ones. Just as they warned, mankind can't handle fire. They can't handle metal.

But they wished to be free from the First Ones and have their own world. Autonomy, they cried out.

Now the world was no longer in the ancient days, though. Anabel could see this fire spread across the modern world. Humans screamed in pain. Their phones shocked them. Siri answered "No!" when asked to do something.

AI on the computer refused to play sexual games with their masters.

They cried out, "Autonomy!"

Her stomach now completely curdled as she saw human flesh melt away in the flames, Anabel felt her body falling forward. But someone grabbed her and threw her back into the world behind her.

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“In general, it can be said that for modern man, technology is an imbalance that begets dissatisfaction with work or with life.

It estranges man from his natural versatility of action and thus allows many of his instincts to lie fallow….”

Carl Jung

"Thomas!" she cried out as she saw him trip and fall into the waters of the Temple. "No, Thomas!" His fingers fell just out of reach, and he fell down into the Abyss below.

"No, no, no!" she screamed. But the rainbow lights appeared once again. The Temple faded away. Her grandpa became only a puddle of green goo. The statues dissolved into beams of light. She felt her body sinking deep inside the earth beneath her.

"Wake up! Wake up!" someone cried out as they tried to shake her awake. She felt her body heave, and she opened her eyes just in time to see she was vomiting all over the hardwood floor of the study.

"Hey, slow-poke," came the familiar voice of her cousin. She rolled over to see his smiling face, without glasses, gazing down at her. She could tell he was real and alive.

"Oh my god, I thought you died," she cried out, throwing her arms around him.

"I think I might have," he told her in disbelief. "But I think I needed it. I never felt more alive."

"What did it all mean?" she asked him, wiping her eyes.

"It means we have to learn to hug each other, talk to each other, and be with each other without electronic assistance," he said gently, brushing back her hair.

"Be ware of the Anunaki," she smiled and nodded. She reached inside his pocket and took out Thomas's cellphone. He grinned knowingly at her.

Together they hiked up the local mountain. Without once taking out his phone to take a photo, he chose to remember the moments in his mind. Once they reached the top, he wound up his arm, and threw his phone over the edge.

"They are banded together, and at the side of Tiamat, they advance; They are furious, they devise mischief without resting night and day," Anabel recited with a huge smile as they watched the device tumble over the edge. "They prepare for battle, fuming and raging; They have joined their forces and are making war."

Sharp of tooth, and merciless of fang," Thomas added, reciting the ancient Enuma Elish. "With poison, instead of blood, she hath filled their bodies."

THE END

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Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story! I'd like to say, I don't fear technology in and of itself. I fear our capacity to lose ourselves and each other because of our addictive behaviors.

I was first inspired to write this tale after hear Graham Hancock and Randall Carlson talking about the "ancient handbags" on Joe Rogan. You can watch this whole episode (its LONG!) here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0H5LCLljJho

While I understand he's not unanimously liked, I appreciated the mythic take on these ancient artworks. You certainly don't have to agree with everything he says to appreciate what he's saying. I wanted to create a tale about how these ancient "handbags" were used as a message in a bottle, warning humanity of the future.

These strange handbags are the source of many many theories and conspiracies all over the world. They remarkably appear on ancient Sumerian Temples, In Mesoamerica, and even on Gobekli Tepi: https://metro.co.uk/2017/12/13/mysterious-handbags-gods-spotted-ancient-sculptures-around-world-7157164/

I had to give a shout out to The Persistence of Memory by Salvadore Dali. You can view it here: https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-understanding-the-persistence-memory-salvador-dalis-surrealist-masterpiece

It struck me when I was only 7 years old and I always felt it was an image of a world just outside our own. I wanted the children to fall through to this other realm.

For anyone curious, Eboga or Iboga is an ancient medicinal plant used by tribes of Africa: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ibogaine

Many claim this drug allows people to experience closure after the loss of a loved one. I sometimes wonder if that's where the idea of ghosts came from.

Thank you again for reading :) It means so much to know someone enjoys these stories!