September 26th, 1997, 3:47 AM. Tonight was his birthday. It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever come to know in my 52 years on Earth. However, I never expected it to happen like it did. I actually never expected it at all.

My wife and I have been married 28 years, and in the beginning, we did want a child. However, we were not fortunate enough to be given the ability to have children. As our relationship endured through the years, the immense disappointment faded as we accepted the fact that it would just be the two of us forever.

And then, inexplicably, by a method similar to how Christ was born, a divine being came to the both of us in our sleep (I would not, however, say the spirit was of the same “righteous” caliber). A knight with white hair came to us in our dreams and said we were his choice to reincarnate his soul in the body of a baby boy with white hair born by my wife, Ella. He said we had no choice in the matter, and that the child would be born whether we liked it or not.

As our troubled dreams continued, he briefly explained that he was a being of a higher plane, and that when his spirit reentered the living world, his nemesis will sense his arrival and begin a hunt to eliminate the child before its maturity.

When the being finished speaking, I was far beyond confused. All the information was just so much to handle; between the concept of a divine birth and the appearance of a mysterious spirit, I didn’t know how much of it to call true. I was finally having a child — but like this? And our child’s life would be in danger from the moment of his birth?

“Is this a gift, or a curse?” I yelled in my dream. “I don’t want to have a child who won’t be given a chance at a normal life.”

“It is neither a gift, nor a curse,” the spirit said back, “I am not concerned with what you and your wife desire, for you two are simply my tools to bring my soul back into the physical world.”

What he said didn’t sit well with me, and I felt more dejected about the situation.

The spirit turned to me again, “I am sorry, I realize this is a heavy burden to lay on you, but the protection of my reincarnation is now your primary focus. If the child is not properly protected, then the evil forces I devote my existence to pacifying would run free in your world, effectively destroying it.”

We awoke from the dream and continued to wonder if what we saw was true. The months passed, and sometimes we both wanted to deny it, but when the obvious signs of pregnancy appeared in Ella, we could pretend no longer.

We were both feeling so lost, and one night Ella and I talked about our ordeal together.

“I can’t do this,” I said to her, “I’m not ready to accept this role.” I was so distraught. I felt cheated, like I’ve made a wish with a tricky genie and instead of getting the ability to fly, I got a plane ticket. I felt tears well in my eyes.

Ella reached for my hand and held it tightly. “I feel your pain, It’s my child too,” she began. “I wish that I could have a proper child that we could love and care for as well, but that isn’t possible – remember?.” She paused and took in a shaky breath. “This child is the best we’re going to get. And at the very least, I am willing to devote my effort to protecting the baby I was so graciously given the chance to have.”

I picked my head up, looked her in her eyes, and could see what she meant. What she said really let me see our situation in a new light, and later I came to appreciate it more. Months later, we arrived in a hospital in Boise on this stormy, wet night where he was born. Now, I stood over my wife’s bed looking at the face of our child. His hair was the promised ghost white, but he shared more of our features than I thought he would. Ella and I smiled at him.

“It really is him,” I said to her.

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly, “I’m so glad we got to put him here.”

I ran my finger through the baby’s hair. “Me too,” I said.

Suddenly an electric sensation filled the room. It all began to feel stronger where my wife and child were sitting. We looked at each other, not knowing what was to come of this. Then the room flashed red in the blink of an eye, leaving red static crackling through the room and my wife gasping for air.

“Are you okay?” I asked, panicking.

“Yes,” she said coming back, “I feel different, though.” The lingering static concentrated in front of our faces and shaped itself into the spirit from our dream.

“These are my last moments of consciousness before I transition into your son,” he began. “The shock has healed your wife and she is now fully recovered from birthing the baby. You two must get as far as possible away from here, for the enemy has sensed my rebirth, and will now begin their search. I estimate you will have 36 hours before they get too close.”

Surely enough, my wife found she could get out bed and walk right after childbirth. The spirit spoke again, “Good luck and worry not, your child is more like you than you realize. I cannot exist here any further. Goodbye.” Finishing, the spirit dissipated.

We quickly checked out of the hospital and jumped into our car, devising our strategy to throw off our pursuers. The plan was to both find something to use as a decoy baby and travel two separate directions after we dropped the child at an orphanage.

We made a quick drive to our house and grabbed our second car so we could begin to separate. We agreed to let Ella take the child to the orphanage and continue North to Canada, I was to take my decoy with me down the West coast to California.

I took her hands in mine, kissed her. “I love you, Ella,” I said as my eyes moved to our son. “And if we don’t get to have our son, then no evil cult will have the privilege either.”

She smiled up at me, “Yes, my thoughts exactly.”

We got on the road and headed our separate ways with our fake babies in tow.

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I‘ve been awake for at least 20 hours now; I’ve seen the sun rise and be on its way to setting. I passed Sacramento a few hours ago, and I just left Fresno. I’m exhausted and I have put at least a thousand miles in between the hospital and me. I decided that getting farther wasn’t going to do much except prolong the inevitable. Seeing an empty parking lot, I decided to pull in and get some sleep. Maybe when I wake, I can score some confrontation with the assholes coming to get me.

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I’m hoping to God my husband isn’t caught already, but part of me is completely ready to accept that he is. This day is overcast with a soft patter of rain coming from the Seattle sky; some would consider this a bad day, but rainy days are definitely not without their beauty.

Finally finding an orphanage, I pulled up in front of it. I go up to the door and knock rather loudly. A middle aged man and woman come and answer the door at my behest, their faces looking startled upon viewing my disheveled and frantic self.

“Can we… help you?” the woman said.

“Alright, I don’t have any time for any formal things,” I began, “…there are people — bad people — they’re after us…more importantly, they’re after him.” I pointed at the baby.

“Slow down, hold on. Why don’t you come insi-” the man started.

“There’s no time, none at all,” I cut him off. “Like I said, I can’t be bothered by formalities, I just need your help. I’m sorry to just dump him on you and be off, but that’s all I can do. I don’t know if they’re right on my tail, or far behind, and I can’t take any chances.” I handed them the baby and his birth certificate.

The couple was bewildered, they look at each other with fearful expressions and then look back at me. I can’t imagine how they must feel, but I don’t have any time to inquire.

I got back in my car. I see them with my child as I situated myself in the seat, and I hope for the best. With that, I drove off, heading further North. Meanwhile at the orphanage, the couple on the doorstep read the baby’s name on the certificate: “Xerxes.”

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I awake in the middle of the night, look at the clock in the car, and deduced that I have slept for four hours. If they know where I went, then whoever was following me could have covered a lot of distance. Starting the engine, I got back on the road.

I do 40 more minutes of driving, but then in my mirror, I see a black Jeep gunning it towards me. Alright, show time, I thought. I floor the gas and take off down the highway, weaving through spaces in between cars on the road.

I glanced in my mirror again and see a man hanging out of the Jeep’s window with an M16 rifle. Uh oh, I thought as I quickly refocused myself on the road ahead of me, and then I hear his firing start and I swerved around attempting to dodge a fusillade of bullets. I hear the glass of my back windshield shatter and I shrank down in my seat. I have to go faster, but the other car started gaining on me. Before I knew it, they were right beside me.

The guy with the rifle faced my way and lit up the side of my car up to the driver’s seat. Sudden pain flowers into my chest and shoulder, and I can feel some systems in me wanting to fail. It appears that I don’t have a long time left. Might as well make my last move now, I thought.

Once again, I accelerate and get some distance between me and them. Looking back in my mirror to gauge my space, I see I have a car’s length. I swerved in front of them and cut the wheel sideways, making my car flip and start to roll. Enjoy Hell you bastards, I thought in my last moments.

The Jeep tries to swerve out of the way, but it was to no avail as my flipping car collides with them. Our collective mass of mashed, deadly steel rolls on for a couple more seconds and then explodes, taking all of our lives.

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I passed Vancouver a long while back, and I have no idea where I am now. The sky is lit with the baby blue and golden-orange of early morning. This highway is lonely and I have the Canadian coastal water on my left.

Much earlier, I saw a mysterious black van lingering behind me. Even though it appeared hostile, nothing has tried to shoot me, so I’m not exactly sure what their plan is. However far they may be from me, it won’t matter, for I’m too far from the orphanage now; my mission is completed.

As I pass an abandoned gas station, I suddenly see the black nose of a van poke out of it in the corner of my eye. Recognizing the vehicle as the van from before, I stepped on the gas in an attempt to get out of their sight, but the van was already coming at me.

The van smashed into my right side and I careened into the highway guard rail on my left. My car broke through the railing a little bit and the front end was hanging off the edge of the highway facing the water. I was struggling to breathe. My left arm is broken and I think a couple of my ribs are cracked as well.

The person who launched the vehicle at me, a man dressed all in black holding a pistol in his hand, came into my view as he walked across to me. He didn’t appear injured to me; he must have rigged the van that hit me with something to hold down its gas pedal so it could hit me without having himself in it.

Walking up to the left side of my car, he saw the toy baby I had used to make a decoy. Furious, he came to the driver’s window, reached through with his free hand, and gripped my neck.

“Where is it?!” he shouted. I felt him lessen his grip so I could attempt to answer, but I don’t exactly feel like answering him. He just got more angry and shook my head a couple of times against the headrest of my seat. “WHERE?!” he screamed, “My team following your husband went dark hours ago. From what I’ve been told before they all blew up, he pulled a kamikaze on my men. But that means if he had the kid, he wouldn’t have killed himself. So you’re the only one who could know about the child’s whereabouts now, so answer me!” He slammed my head against the headrest one last time.

Through blurry vision, I looked around in the car and noticed the crash didn’t completely break the car and that it was still in drive. I tried to breathe and he once again loosened his grip.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well,” I sputtered, “if my husband is dead, then that makes this… a whole lot easier.”

Letting my last bit of adrenaline in my body flood me, I reached across my body with my right arm and grabbed his neck with all my strength. I fought through the pain and wasted no time in gasing the car forward. Thankfully, it moved just enough to tip off the cliff. He struggled with his feet desperately scraping the dirt beneath him, but there was no chance I was going to let go of him. I’m making sure he is going down with me.

I feel the g-force of the fall start to take hold as my car nosedives. I finally let go of him, but it didn’t matter because he was in free-fall with me. I take one last breath before the front of my car collided with the rocky shore of the cliff — a wretched screech resounding from the impact — and falls into the Canadian waters, sinking.