Writing Group: Ye Shall Be As Gods

Hello, puny mortals!

We’re all curious what it would be like to have a little more power of things, aren’t we? Do a little transcending and apotheosizing, clamber up out of the mortal coil? That’s why…

This week’s prompt is:


Ye Shall Be As Gods


We’ve made some really big changes to the rules! Make sure you scroll down to the bottom of this post to see them before submitting!



This week sounds pretty religious, but it’s really just about promises of power.

Not every story needs to include deities, angels, demons, and mortals undergoing some kind of actual transformation into a divine entity. As long as “gods” is satisfied in relative terms, you’re good.

You could, for instance, write a story about an ant who learns to wield the power of a magnifying glass. You could write about a poltergeist who realizes it can con people into worship and supplication by performing minor miracles instead of pranks—lifting a crucifix at an opportune moment, popping a couple drops of red food coloring into the communion water, etc. You could write about an ancient oracle peering ahead to the anthropocene era and seeing the vast powers we have over the Earth.

The one caveat here is that the promise of power also promises a change in position as well. It doesn’t mean anything for a character to be promised that they’ll be really good at sword fighting. They need to be promised that, relative to where they are now, they’ll be all-powerful. Not just good at sword fighting, but unstoppable by their previous standard.

A fun twist could be to investigate how perspective impacts relativity. Someone could become “as a god” compared to where they were… only to discover that on a larger scale, they’re still a mote of dust on the wind.

Whatever you do, I expect the full measure of irresponsibility. Be as Prometheus, and put this divine gift into the wrong hands.

Now go forth and fulfill some prophecies.



Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Friday at 7:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

The whole purpose of this is to show off the creativity of the community, while also helping each other to become better writers. Lean into that spirit, and get ready to help each other improve their confidence in their writing, as well as their skill with their craft!


Rules and Guidelines

We read at least six stories during each stream, three of which come from the public post, and three of which come from the much smaller private post. Submissions are randomly selected by a bot, but likes on your post will improve your chances of selection, so be sure to share your submission on social media!

  1. Text and Formatting

    1. English only.
    2. Prose only, no poetry or lyrics.
    3. Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
    4. Your piece must be between 250-350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
    5. Include a submission title and an author name (doesn’t have to be your real name). Do not include any additional symbols or flourishes in this part of your submission. Format them exactly as you see in this example, or your submission may not be eligible: Example Submission.
    6. No additional text styling (such as italics or bold text). Do not use asterisks, hyphens, or any other symbol to indicate whether text should be bold, italic, or styled in any other way. CAPS are okay, though.
  2. What to Submit

    1. Keep submissions “safe-for-work”; be sparing with sexuality, violence, and profanity.
    2. Try to focus on making your submission a single meaningful moment rather than an entire story.
    3. Write something brand new (no re-submitting past entries or pieces written for other purposes
    4. No fan fiction whatsoever. Take inspiration from whatever you’d like, but be transformative and creative with it. By submitting, you also agree that your piece does not infringe on any existing copyrights or trademarks, and you have full license to use it.
    5. Submissions must be self-contained (everything essential to understanding the piece is contained within the context of the piece itself—no mandatory reading outside the piece required. e.g., if you want to write two different pieces in the same setting or larger narrative, you cannot rely on information from one piece to fill in for the other—they must both give that context independently).
  3. Submission Rules

    1. One submission per participant.
    2. Submit your entry in a comment on this post.
    3. Submissions close at 12:00pm CST each Friday.
    4. You must like and leave a review on two other submissions to be eligible. Your reviews must be at least 50 words long, and must be left directly on the submission you are reviewing, not on another comment. If you’re submitting to the private post, feel free to leave these reviews on either the private or the public post. The two submissions you like need not be the same as the submissions you review.
    5. Use the same e-mail for your posts, reviews, and likes, or you may be rendered ineligible (you may change your username or author name between posts without problem, however).
    6. You may submit to either or both the public/private groups if you have access, but if you decide to submit to both, only the private group submission will be eligible.
    7. Understand that by submitting here, you are giving us permission to read your submission aloud live on stream and upload public, archived recordings of said stream to our social media platforms. You will always be credited, but only by the author name you supply as per these rules. No other links or attributions are guaranteed.

Comments on this post that aren’t submissions will be deleted, except for replies/reviews left on existing submissions.

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[…] This week’s prompt was Ye Shall be as Gods. I decided to write mine to the tiny beings of power that are very real in our lives. Go head and check out my submission, The God of the House. […]

3 years ago

The Greatest of All Beings

by Brickosaur

Lex emerged from the crowd of ten thousand soldiers, brandishing a newly-acquired parchment case.

“You took your time,” sneered Astrida. “You have the scroll?”

Lex gave her a withering stare. “Nooo. This is just my handy portable snake bed. You know, for when they wanna take a nap. Of COURSE I have it. Here.”

He uncapped the cylinder, embossed in golden letters: ‘The Greatest of All Beings,’ and pulled out a fragile spell scroll. Astrida’s eyes lit up, reflecting Lex’s own excitement. Eagerly, they studied the document. Lex had skimmed it, but only now could he appreciate it in detail.

“‘Ye Shall Be As Gods,'” read the heading. “Perfect.”

“It should do fine,” Astrida agreed. “Let’s test it.”

Lex beckoned a lowly guard over. “You!” he barked. “Come here.”

The guard obeyed, standing at ease.

Astrida squinted at the calligraphic lettering and read an ancient spell aloud. Smoky essence wafted from the parchment to the soldier, who immediately shifted posture. He looked around, alert, and gazed at the heavens, jerking his head this way and that, quick breaths through the nose.

“Enhanced god senses,” breathed Lex as the soldier tilted his head and opened his mouth, letting his tongue loll.

“It worked!” cheered Astrida. “Excellent! Now to cast it on the rest. These soldiers, imbued with the power of legends — they’ll be the greatest force on the continent!”

Already, she was standing over the army, calling them to attention. Lex watched the already-turned one scratch his ear, then stop dead to stare at some tiny sound. He didn’t seem very godly…

“Greatest of all beings?” he murmured.

Just then, Astrida came stomping back. “Lex! Something’s wrong! They aren’t listening to me. It’s like — all their training — gone!”

Horrible realization dawned on Lex. He backed out of punching range. “Uh, Astrida? Check the title of that scroll again.”

“Check the — wha?” She glanced at the parchment, and her eyes lit on fire.

“You moron! Did you even read this!? It says ‘Ye Shall Be As DOGS!'”

Below them, Lex heard the howl of ten thousand men’s best friends.

3 years ago


By Cheete

I saw her sulking atop the highest hill. I ran to her, starting up the steep incline. The night warped around her, wires hung loosely from her large body, infinitely traveling into the abyss above. Her skin shifted like water in a slight breeze, her white eyes glowed vibrantly, and as if wishing upon a star, she stared longingly into the sky.

My pace slowed as if gravity was pushing me away. Digging into the grass, each step pulled chunks of earth from the ground. I fell on to my stomach, gritting my teeth. I couldn’t stop, I didn’t have a choice. I crawled my way up, arms shaking, knees pressed into the dirt, hands clawing the grass with all my might. I was choking up, heart pounding, breath heaving. I was chasing something that could never be, but I persisted. Half of the hill was before me, and my pace slowed to a halt, and with that, my body gave in. I laid there with my face to the ground, staring off into the rolling hills.

It was quiet. The breeze shifted the valley ever so slightly, like the breathing of a sleeping child.

“I’m sorry…” I said, closing my eyes unsure of whom I was addressing.

I pulled my head off the ground, and turned to her. Her eyes looked down upon me. I flinched, instinctively trying to flee to no avail. Her faceless expression seemed to pity me.

“Are you… God?” I asked, hesitantly.

“Is that what you wish?” a small voice echoed through the air.

“I-I don’t…” my words escaped me.

“Many children arrive with no questions to bear, and I wonder if there ever was. I wonder what they seek beyond the light ahead. I wonder if it is my gift that you bear. I wonder why my light is so precious, and they can’t answer.” she said, and stood slowly with her neck craned up to the sky, “Many children fear it, all never seek the endless above. They do not know that what they seek was never the light.”

3 years ago

L’Ultimo Canto

By NocteVesania

Led by his guide, the traveler marches through the frozen wastes. Much more than the icy gale blowing on his face, the sight of contorted bodies deep in the ice chills him to the bone. Nevertheless, they forge on.

“Cocytus, the crystalline lake,” the guide announces, “the kingdom of traitors.”

The traveler hesitates for a moment. His hands start shaking, not from the cold, but from fear and doubt, borne of his guide’s words. He tries to push these feelings away as he sees a large figure looming in the distance. The traveler could barely see, the wind blowing in his face, but he could still make out the monstrous shape.

With every step, the traveler feels the ground shake more and more in a rhythm. As he approaches, the terrifying visage becomes clearer. The beast sticks out of the ice from its chest up, its wings flap ceaselessly, causing the gale to blow ever strong. On its crown are three heads, each gnawing on a man, forever mangling their bodies.

Out of fear of aggravating the fiend, the guide stops a ways away from it, daring not to come any closer, but the traveler does not. His footsteps trudge on. The guide calls out, worrying for the safety of his charge.

“D-Dante! Don’t come any closer!”

His words fall on deaf ears. The traveler eventually stops, mere feet away from the beast. His cloak flails wildly in the wind, but he stands unflinching. His vengeful soul has cast off his fear as he comes face to face with the beast.

“I call upon thee, mighty beast.” The traveler stretches his arms, as if offering himself.

“Dante, what are you—” The guide’s voice is cut off as the beast lets out a primal roar.

“Help me annihilate the land of men, and I will help you take back your place in paradise.” A cruel smile takes over the traveler’s face. “We will exact vengeance on those who wronged us, those who cast us out!”

The beast’s heads turn to face the traveler, their gnawing stopped.

“Together, we shall be gods.”

The Man Himself
The Man Himself
3 years ago

And without knowing it, he made his way home to die.

By The Man Himself.

The beating of mighty wings heralded the gargantuan beast’s presence, and the enormous shadow that left fishing boats in darkness for a good ten seconds or more announced it’s arrival. The men on board stared or hid their faces, cowering. He passed over harmlessly.

     He was The Bronze Guardian in the West. Father of the Sun and brother of the sky. The Terrible Sleeping Storm. The one that had been an intrinsic feature of the lands, seas and skies he patrolled far longer than any living creature knew. Inextricable from this part of the world as the mountains he had cleared before reaching the coast and flying low over the speckled blue that rushed by on loop. Being a unique and birthless creature, he was one of the five magnificent gods of the Earth as he and the few like him were known. Or the Seven Warriors of Life as they had been known five hundred years before. Or Ten Guardian Angels as he and his had been called in the centuries before that. 

     The water ended and rich fields begun once more as the Bronze Beast neared his destination. If he could, he’d have smiled. He had been the Golden One once. But he supposed that as with all things, age had dulled his shimmering plates to a less blinding, but still glorious display. Though he paid them no attention, below him people continued to react to his appearance. Either suddenly finding their homes and surroundings enveloped in shadow or spotting his approach, instinctively fleeing as if they could actually outrun him if chased. He must not have been here in some time. Just as the Red Kite guided herds to water in the arid South, he had sheltered villages from storms with his wingspan but now he sought a place to lie. Finally, he stopped on a hill, within view of the mountains. He dreamt of a ring. Embedded in his flesh, far too small to have been worn by him. And that’s where he stayed. Where he finally joined the soil he had forgotten was his home.

Ché Geofroy
Ché Geofroy
3 years ago

Grains of Time

By Che Geofroy

When one looks up into space and counts the endless stars, considering the unfathomable scale of the universe, would one ever think to preserve a single grain of dust? Each particle only an individual in its minute details, any single grain’s worth decreases to a near infinitesimal amount. If such is the case, what is to be said of each atom? Or each planck scale slice of space? Value dissipates to nothing. Such is true of time as well. As the seconds drag on, approaching infinite distances, they slowly bring about their own demise.

I have witnessed the death of time’s worth firsthand. I am a man cursed with the greatest blessing. My potential; infinite. My life became legend the day I emerged from the wellspring of youth. I was – am – the one and only Immortal Man. If only for a little while longer.

This diary is to be a lesson from a man who has achieved great wisdom. Life is precious not because of the time we’ve been given, but because at any moment it could be lost. I have witnessed ages come and go – worlds rise and fall. Yet this truth proves inevitable.

I have loved. I have lost. I have experienced the highs of power, the lows of desperation and tragedy. But in a life with no end, every grain falls with the same impact. Each second, day, year, century. It matters not what scale you choose. I only see minute differences amongst the endless collection I’ve acquired. Uncountably many behind, and even more to come. So, I ask, what is there left to cherish?

I leave you with a wish and a warning. Embrace the fragility of life. It is its greatest strength. Death’s most terrible curse is to pass you by – to leave you forgotten. And that is why, in these final moments of mine, I have finally remembered what it means to be alive.

Thank you Death – and Life – for finding me again.


3 years ago

“Our Fates Align”

by LunaLunestia

A small dainty little coffee shop around the corner was bustling as patrons come and go or sit and enjoy the time there. A young woman with long maroon to sky blue curls sat by a large clock decor with a sketchbook in hand, a palette of paints on a table, and accompanied by a cup of tea. Behind her round glasses, she watched as the cafe began to empty and close for the evening. With a smile she sees her freckled friend walk out, “Ready Luce?” she asked. She watched as Luce nodded and the two began to pack their belongings, leaving the cafe as the clock struck 7:00 PM.

“It’s fascinating isn’t it? What seemed to be two friends living their everyday life soon to be changed; fated as the stars foretold,” An olive skinned woman with silver hair dusted the stars in the sky as she walked by, “It’s unfortunate they can’t live simple lives as mortals. One being a host for you and the other my daughter reborn,” she smiles, “Although, they’ve learned how to become stronger to better themselves…”

Twilight shone above as a silver scythe slashed towards black scales as the sunlight danced across the field. The power of gravity forced the host off the ground and hurled her across the field, but she was surprised at the counter attack as a tendril struck the scythe wielder, making her lose her glasses as she scrambled to search for them. Feeling around the floor, she listens for the right moment before unleashing a force field to throw off her opponent. Putting back her glasses, her vision returned as she stood tall, “Is that all you got Luce?” she taunted.

With a chuckle, “Nah, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Luce replied to her. She charged forward and a clash between Host and Moon Goddess continued forth.

“Sparring together will help them both improve in their quest, Kristal to regain her godhood as Luna and Luce…” the silver haired woman gazed towards her guest as her tone hisses, “… being your Homunculus.”

minergirl778 (aka frogfireFantasy)
minergirl778 (aka frogfireFantasy)
3 years ago

A Tense Situation

By minergirl778 (aka frogfireFantasy)

“HEEEEEEY! Terrorist dudes!”

Maximus stopped and turned to the window. He came up behind his lookout, who was already staring at the source of the noise. He could immediately recognize the shouter, thanks to her bright orange shirt and her position far in front of the crowd.

“Who are you? Are you the negotiator?”

“No? Well, kind of. My name’s Daisy! I’m here on behalf of Mrs.Oak! You’ve got her husband, Darryl, hostage, right? Along with his coworkers?”

He looked behind him to the pile of hostages. An older man on the top raised his hand quietly.

“Yes. We demand a-”

“Ok, good! I’m gonna need you to let him go. Hopefully, along with the rest of his friends. I don’t know what kind of beef you have with his boss, but I assure you he’s got nothing to do with it.”

He sputtered for a moment. Had she just…? And then… What? He brought himself to coherency “Not a chance. I am NOT just going to throw out my bargaining chips. Not when I’ve got-”

“Bargaining chips!? Oh my goodess, He’s a JANITOR!” She called back “A boss as sucky as this guy’s would never stick his neck out for the night cleaning staff. Speaking of that…” She looked around her “Why did you guys do this so late anyways? The guy’s probably asleep. He won’t be able to see your ‘demands’ until morning! You could have planned this out a little bit-”

“SILENCE!” He screamed out the window. The interrupting was one thing, but this was the last straw. “I am NOT releasing my hostages. Leave NOW or I’ll have my men OPEN FIRE!”

The crowd quivered a little. The girl put her hands on her hips and huffed “Well, fine then! If you’re going to be difficult about this…”

Suddenly, there was a bright flash and the girl was gone. Before he could even say anything, a pair of fingertips brushed the back of his head, arching with a bright orange light.

“Then I’ll do it myself.”

3 years ago

“Eyes On Her” by JosieDearly

What a curious thing…

I watch as my host clashes with the other girl in a spar. She strikes with her silver scythe, while my host defends herself with black scales.

I see the girl with maroon hair in countless ringlets, half of it bright blue and floating around her head, as she utilized her magic to lift my host up and throw her across the arena.

Magic of the moon goddess, Luna… Coursing through the veins of a mortal. No, no, she IS the moon goddess, in a mortal body. At least, that is what I’ve been informed. She doesn’t look anything like her old self though.

But how did she do it? Is she not like me? A primordial creature of power too immense for a human body to contain? And yet there she is, in a human body, taking a lashing tendril to her face as my host fights back.

Isn’t she weak in this body? Her glasses have fallen off, and now she is scrambling to find them. She can barely see my host circling around her, let alone the glasses lying next to her. It’s truly pitiful that her eyes are so broken and weak, that she needed a contraption to enhance her poor vision. A contraption that is easy to disarm her of…

That’s it, my host is going in for the kill—

Oh. Hah. I chuckle as my host is thrown back by an invisible forcefield. The reincarnated Luna finally grabs her glasses and puts them on, getting ready to strike again.

Perhaps I’m underestimating the girl. She reacted quickly despite being unable to see the threat.

Even if she is a mortal, maybe, if she keeps up her training and continues to live on, she’ll be able to reclaim her godhood.

… Maybe. Who knows? I know I would love to. But I’m not a god of knowledge, so I’m just as in the dark as everyone else in this story.

Last edited 3 years ago by JosieDearly
Michael Case
Michael Case
3 years ago

A Childs Curiosity

By Michael Case

I remember as a kid growing up in tornado alley that these storms would come through that were always horrid in a weird way. I was never afraid of then, nor did I feel that we were ever in any danger from them. Even when the storms spawned massive tornados that destroyed neighboring towns. I always knew that we were safe.

Across the street there was this old man that would stand out in his yard every time one of these storms came through. He would just stand there looking up at the clouds, arms raised out to his sides, just standing there during the entire storm, then as if for no reason he would just go back in his house when the storm was ending. The people in the town didn’t know much about him other then he might have lost his mind during some war. He didn’t seem to have any family, no friends, he would only go shopping at dusk, and never spoke to anyone. Well almost never spoke.

One day while being left at home by myself, it had started to rain. I saw that the old man had gone out to his yard, so I followed suit. I stood there looking up at the clouds, felt the cool rains falling on my face, I tried to keep my arms up as long as he did, but I wasn’t able too. The old man looked at me from his yard before going in his house. He said that if I was serious, I should come back out in a couple of hours.

A few hours passed, and I spotted him out in his yard again, so I followed with what he was doing again. This time I saw everything. The clouds became fearfully dark, a funnel formed, hail fell, lighting struck all around us. I didn’t move because I felt safe in that spot as if I controlled the storm.

When the storm passed, the old man told me, “Welcome to the storm callers. Use this power well.”

Ashe Thurman
3 years ago


by Ashe Thurman

“The blood tests came back clear, so that’s good. I do want to double check some things, though. You didn’t mention a genetic lineage of magic. It shouldn’t change anything with your treatment, but I did want some clarification.”

“I…I have what?”

“You weren’t aware.”

“I’m adopted. The medical history I gave you is what my parents gave me. Which is what the agency gave them…so….”

“Huh…Well! Anyway-“

“No, hold on. What does genetic lineage of magic mean, exactly? Am I like…part sylvan or something?”

“Oh. No. Heh. You have protein markers in your bloodstream that we typically only see in low frequency band magicians. Wizard, witches, that sort of thing.”

“Am I a wizard?!?”

“I don’t know. Are you?”

“I just don’t understand how I can have wizard blood but not be a wizard.”

“Oh there’s a lot of reasons…um…where did you grow up?”

“Victoria Town.”

“Well, there you go that’s on the Theabeana Plateau, right? Notoriously low magic density area. You probably just never activated naturally.”

“So…so I could have been a wizard if I just grew up thirty kilometers east?” 

“Or hit puberty hit there. Yeah.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“There’s still time, you know. There’s a lot of literature about early-thirties activation and awakening. Not ideal, obviously, but then what is? Not your cholesterol, that’s for sure, heh.”

“What should I do?”

“Well, it’s not that high, yet, so if you start paying more attention to your diet-“

“No! I meant about the wizard thing!”

“Oh….I don’t know. I can refer you to an iatromagiotrist, but it’ll take you awhile to get in.”

“But…but should I? After all this time?!”

“That’s really your decision to make now isn’t it?”

3 years ago

The Literary Truth

By Derek McEldowney (Deviacon)

“So what is this great truth you’re offering these people?” Jay contemptuously asked the speaker that had picked him from the crowd and pulled him up on stage.

“The truth is exactly as I said. We are all of us petty nameless characters in the story that is our reality, all created by some writer.” Jay’s sarcastic snort was drowned out by the fervent clamorous cheer of the crowd.

“Why is that good? Why the fuck are you all cheering?!” Jay shouted back in vain. Only the speaker heard his objection.

“It is good, because once you accept your place in the story, only then can you begin to transcend it. Each and every one of us has the ability to become strong, powerful; beautiful. To be the main characters of our own stories!” The speakers booming voice echoed throughout the hall, overpowering the cheers of the crowd.

“You are insane. This is a cult. I’m out of here.” Jay’s voice finally echoed back before he turned to leave.

“So why did you come here then hmm? On a lark? Give an old friend the benefit of the doubt? Have nothing better to do tonight?” Jay let the words fall away with each step. “Or could it be that you don’t even remember why?” Jay’s stride slowed as he racked his mind. “Could it be because the story needed it to be so in order to exist?” Jay turned back curtly.

“Fine, I’ll bite, how do I become the main character, how do I attain plot armor, how do I wield deus ex machina and become some god-like entity?!”

Jay expected to silence the nonsense of the speaker, but they simply smiled, and pulled something from the pocket of their coat.

“Why, you write.” The speaker offered an ancient looking fountain pen. It seemed to have been intricately carved from a dark gnarled branch.

“What do you mean?” Jay hesitantly reached for the pen, more enamored with a closer look at its alluring design than anything.

“Just start writing, and you’ll see.”

3 years ago

Humble Heritage

By MysteryElement

I heave a sigh of relief as we finally reach the top. The pyramid had always been a sight to behold from below, and after that climb I will be content to only look at it. Why my father decided to climb it today is beyond me. Trying to catch my breath, I watch him as he gazes down upon the city. Ra, you could probably see the whole kingdom from up here.

“Look down, Atem, and tell me what you see.”

He looks composed, as he always does, immovable and stern as he awaits my obedience. The view is incredible. Below us I see our great city, temples and markets bustling with people, and the palace stretching high above the rest.

“Everything looks so small, my king.”

A smile attempts to pull at the corner of his mouth, without much success.

“And, what do you suppose these little people see when they gaze up at us?”

I try to school my features to be as impassive as his, he always said I was far too expressive for a king, but I still feel my brows furrow in thought.

“Perhaps we look impossibly high, something far away?” I ask.

“Something far above them and out of reach, one could say.” Finally looking at me, I feel him sizing me up. I can see the question in his gaze; Am I worthy. “We are the children of the gods, our bloodline most sacred. Powerful beyond the reckoning of these little people, we are blessed with the responsibility of the land on behalf of our father, Ra.” 

He places his hand on my shoulder, the first time he has deigned to touch me since birth. My chest expands with pride, and he continues.

“The people of this land look upon us to lead them on the gods’ behalf. They see us as untouchable, sacred, but this is not so.” his eyes soften, “Not yet. When we pass through mortalities veil, we shall be as gods. Until then, we are merely ambassadors. Remember this, my son.”

Charles Funk
Charles Funk
3 years ago

The First Story
by Charles Funk

An Aztec village gathered before Makuiltlahtol’s bonfire that starry evening. Their faces lit brighter than the flames as they eagerly listened to the old man’s tales.

“Twas the fire that told the first story. Both spread forth and brought light to the world. Tonight i will tell you that first.”

The crowd’s excitement became fear after Makuiltlahtol kicked sand into the flames. Shrouding villagers in smoke and shadows.

“It began in darkness. In the age when gods eternally slept.”

Makuiltlahtol uncovered a glowing turquoise gemstone.

“The Sun God, Huitzilopochtli, awakened first. Bathing heaven with his light. Awakening the hundred gods in the stars.”

More glowing gemstones appeared on his cloak. Each glittered its own bright color like stars.

“They filled the void with Huitzilopochtli above all. But our world remain black. Cold. The gods were deaf and far away.”

A red-and-black stone was raised to the villagers.

“Twas Xiuhtecuhtli, the Fire God, who first heard our plight. So he fell to earth.”

Embers struck from Makuiltkahtol’s fingers and set the bonfire ablaze to the crowd’s delight.

“But Xiuhtecuhtli fell too deep in the mountains and was blind to the dark as we were. Thus he decided to bring light to the world through fire.”

A great plume of fire blazed after Makuiltkahtol threw pebbles into the fire amidst furious crackling mixed with the villager’s startled cries.

“As you scream now, so did the world as she burned. Xiuhtecuhtli, heard its cries but didn’t understand. Mistaking smoke for shadows, the god continued his crusade until one man braved the flames and communed with the god.”

A breeze calmed the fire.

“He’s called Quetzalcoatl and he befriended Xiuhtecuhtli thus bringing balance to this world. The gods saw this and made Quetzalcoatl a god and offered him a place in heaven. Quetzalcoatl agreed. But not before making humans to accompany his friend. Xiuhtecuhtli shared this story to humans. Like fire, both spread itself out to all corners of the world.”

The villagers applauded but one asked a question.

“Is this all true?”

Makuiltkahtol smiled. “What do you think?”

The fire behind him winked.

Mango Gravy
Mango Gravy
3 years ago

Sea Dog

By Mango Gravy

 “If ye can dance on the gunwale of a fast sinking ship, if ye can abandon all hope of the Fiddler’s Green, if ye swim to kiss a Siren without even hearing ‘er song, then ole Neptune’s heart’ll open up, an’ yer wretch hide needn’t ever fear Davy’s locker nor hangman’s noose. Waves’ll part before ye, the sun will be gentle on yer skin, and fish’ll swim right into yer fetid gob. Aye, ye shall be as gods of the sea.”

No one believed old Lev. Cooks tended to be… cooky, always having something to say about everything, but Lev somehow found a way to steer every conversation back to his strange religion. He grew up on the Isles of Neptune, where they believed the open water had a mind of its own and rewarded all who didn’t fear it. It was quite annoying, but Lev’s grandiose speeches were bolstering and encouraging when the ship was being pounded by a storm. It warmed the hearts of the men huddled around him as the ship’s timbers groaned and creaked.

“Ole Neptune doesn’t want to kill ye. He just wants to see who’s worthy of ‘is blessing. He just doesn’t care to save yer life if ye fail the test, is all.” Statements like that tended to kill the mood, though.

Aye, no one believed Lev until Neptune decided to smile upon our humble trade vessel, in the form of gargantuan squid arms that wrapped around the ship and started pulling it into the churning water.

The captain was nowhere to be seen and apparently made off with the row boat. Some men called to their gods, others made appropriate use of the poop deck. A special few tried to attack it.

Lev? Well, he sat cross legged on the forecastle. The madman actually sang about mermaid bosoms as the ocean claimed the ship. Thunder clapped and planks cracked, but old Lev sang his song as he went under.

No one joined him in his levity. No one joined him.

Last edited 3 years ago by Mango Gravy
R J Chapman
R J Chapman
3 years ago

“A New Day” by R J Chapman

From the clifftop, the rage and terror seemed as distant as the streetlamps below. It would have been all too easy to surrender to that glow, to bask in it, to feed from it, to drown himself in it; and it was as unsustainable as it was gratifying. An explosion of momentary ecstasy would linger and turn to ash in his throat.  Instead, he drank in the coastal air, hoping to cleanse himself of those passions.

To his surprise, the view was as serene as he remembered. The full Moon’s divine light bounced off the white cliffs, turning the ocean a ghostly hue. The rhythmic wombing of the tide should have soothed him, yet he felt nothing. He appreciated the beauty of the scene but he couldn’t feel it, in the same way a deaf man could read the score of a symphony and understand its tempo, but never hear the melody. If there was no peace to be found here then there was no peace to be found anywhere. 

He lit a cigarette – more out of habit than necessity – and sat down on the dew soaked grass. There was nothing more to do but wait.

Half a pack and sodden buttocks later, he heard the groan. 

He smiled. It was a gambler’s smile, all the more self-righteous because of the risk involved.

‘I was wondering when you were going to wake up,’ he said before taking one last drag of his cigarette.

This pitiful creature, that had brought undying misery upon him, now lay next to him like a shark out of water, its power turned feeble. Overwhelmed with pettiness, he flicked the fag-end at it. It yelped as the sparks singed its face. Grabbing it by the throat, he tore the gag away.  ‘Sorry, what were you trying to say?’

‘I made you a god,’ it whimpered.

‘Gods don’t burn,’ he whispered.

It writhed and thrashed against the restraints, but he held firm as the sunlight crept over the horizon.

The sun blazed beautifully, and for the first time in a century, he felt peace. Together, they burned.  

Last edited 3 years ago by R J Chapman
3 years ago

Dragon Kin

by Sandeen

Unable to hold back her sigh, Heldi shook her head at Jax. A wyvrin, one of the ancient dragons that theoretically had died out generations ago, Jax couldn’t stop touching the screen.

“So, this person, right here, is talking directly to thousands of people, without the use of any magic?” With wide eyes, Jax stepped back next to Heldi and leaned down. With his magic totem that gave him a human form, Jax only drew a few odd looks for his odd behavior, mostly because he is tall. He only looked like a tall, wide shouldered man, not something with scales. Leaning down, Jax almost looked like he was trying to wrap around Heldi, who tensed up given his sheer size and the ancient knowledge in his bottomless green eyes.

“Yes, she is even giving out prizes right now.” Heldi nodded back as the woman on the screen rattled off some name, with lights flashing.

“She looks like she wants to take on a dragon.” With Jax still leaning down to speak with Heldi, she looked like a trapped animal.Or a dragon’s treasure. 

“Why would she want to take on a dragon? She doesn’t even know that any are left.”

Snorting, Jax looked back at the screen. “Other humans would do anything for the dragon kin, the one who had defeated the dragon, to acknowledge their existence. Give them money, name a child after them, gifts upon gifts. Anything in hopes of gaining their favor, and being closer to us.”

Tilting his head to the side, he continued, “I have not yet heard, in any of the stories you have told me, about how some humans used to perceive us as gods. If someone killed a dragon they were looked on as… imbued with something or another. But, those who could best us in a non-violent matter? They gained a draconic ally, and dragons were known more for killing and maiming than anything else. Those humans? They were almost treated like gods among your kind.”

“So,” Jax stepped away, “little one, what is the next stop on this adventure?”

3 years ago

“False Gods”

By: ClockworkPigeonz

The stranger who’d landed on Silas Blackthorn’s desk that morning had explained a few things. Namely, that Hrothgar had risen from warlord to chieftain of the Kline tribes within seven moons. During his conquest and the years following, he’d sent many challengers to the Gates of Oblivion with the Banishing Stones. 

Silas called them Veil Shards- though how a meathead like Hrothgar hadn’t ripped a hole in reality was beyond even the Gatekeeper’s knowledge. 

“You think you can face the wrath of a god, mongrel?” he sneered.

“Doubt it.” Silas quipped back, oddly calm for a man watching a lunatic wave around one of the most dangerous objects in the multiverse. He was trying to be respectful of the fact that no one had run him through with a halberd yet, but the urge to punch this so-called god was growing. 

How many warriors had been randomly teleported to places more inhospitable than his office?

Stay Calm. Think of Cobalt.

He had to focus. 

“Speak up, mortal filth!” 

The crystals atop the makeshift scepter flared a dangerous violet as the chieftain slammed it down onto the smooth, marble floor. He could feel the Gates shifting, grating upon one another forcefully. Thunder rumbled outside, a storm whose very nature was bending dangerously towards the Void. 

Silas winced. 

The integrity of the shards was already compromised then… God help them. Not Hrothgar though…the chieftain thought the world was held together with tree roots and bits of deer bone. 

Using his powers against the normal folk hadn’t ever set right with Silas…but he didn’t have much choice. Ember was the actor of the group, but hopefully he’d picked up enough to put on a show. Silvery flames licked across his skin, sprouted from his shoulder blades, and slowly coalesced into well-kept wings. A long tail settled comfortably at his feet. 

“Mortal? That line’s a bit blurred for a Phoenix.” he huffed, truthfully.

The crowd shrieked as fire pooled across the ground- flashy and harmless, unless they moved to strike him. 

“I’m leavin’ with that staff.” 

Hrothgar roared… and outside the storm swelled.

3 years ago


By Speckled

300 horseback Spartans crashed into the 600 strong East Theban cavalry. Spears flashed, and horses and men fell alike. Leomences made himself small as hooves thundered around him. He had been caught between the cavalry charges, pressed against the body of his own fallen horse as a Theban leapt over him. A general in gleaming golden armor who slew two Spartans with one strike. Spartan blood sprayed him. The general pressed the Hoplite line. Leomences reached for his fallen spear, and 5 more horses rode by him. Theban warriors, ignoring him as they rushed to help their general. 

Leomences was alone behind the enemy line. The general’s back was to him as he lashed out at the Hoplites, pressing forward even as his horse was punctured by spears. 

A pair of Theban warriors made supportive passes between Leomences and the general, ready to jump in if needed, else sweeping the rest of the line before rounding back. 

The Theban general suddenly backed out, his warriors diving between him and the Spartan Hoplites, throwing aside their spears with their own bodies. Leomances moved to get a better look, it seemed the general was missing a piece of armour. A hole exposed his back. Leomences readied himself.  

A support rider was rounding back, to pass between Leomances and the general any moment. 

Leomences dove, rolling atop the dead horse, leaping from its shoulder. He landed with one foot on the back of the supportive rider’s mount, shouting a battle cry and leping again. The Hoplites saw a shining silver figure appear behind enemy lines, fly impossibly high and far, and plunge his spear into the Theban general’s back, straight through the armor. The momentum carried both figures off the horse and the Theban line quickly disintegrated. By the time the dust cleared, all that was left was the general, the spear, and some ordinary soldiers scattered around. 

The Spartans never knew who secured their victory, but rumors spread fast. An impossible flying silver warrior. For the Hoplites, only one conclusion was possible. 

A God had been with them that day.

3 years ago

Become as gods

by Billy

A warm glow begins to fill the hall as the priest begins lighting candles individually, muttering a prayer as he goes.

“And it is said that once the Lord graces you, you shall be put to test.”

He makes a motion with his hands, first to his eyes, then to his chest, finally to his mouth.

Returning to the candles, the altar in the holy hall begins to illuminate, showing a second, propped up against the altar.

“A test of fire, steel, Beast, and stone.”

The faint flicker of the candles show the figure propped against the altar to be a young man, his face burned, hands scarred, and a leg made of stone.

The young man pants, unsure of what the priest speaks yet also uneasy.

“You see my child, The Lord has given you His Blessing and you passed His test, proving you are worth the highest of honors! He shall have treasures for you beyond all comparison!” He flourished.

The priest approaches the young man and helps him onto the altar, commanding him to lay still.

“I could see it since you were young, you were destined to be so favored by God. I am glad that it was within my lifetime that the Blessings were bestowed.”

The priest opens his holy book and begins reading an unknown language, the language of the Gods. 

A warm blue glow emanates from the candles as the priest speaks, with each verse the flames glow brighter.

“And the Lord has commanded it, it has been done! A man who has passed the trials and received your blessing!”

The hall rumbles as if something deep underground wakes.

“We are but your humble servants! No more than ants beneath your feet!”

The young man begins to panic, but the priest restrains him, keeping him upon the altar.

Suddenly the blue glow disappears and the rumbling stops, leaving a feeling of tension in the air.

“Worry not my child. Today we become as gods.” The priest whispers to him as tendril-like roots make their way up the altar, snaking towards the young man.

Gregory Hess
Gregory Hess
3 years ago

“A promotion” [Aleph null science fiction universe, public duplicate]

By gregovin

I invited the two managers in. If they signed up, all would work out well. I knew they could do what I needed, and I knew they would take the opportunity blindly. It was perfect.

“Now, I have an offer for you. I would like to offer you creative control over the simulacrum project.”


“You are my most trustworthy managers, I think you can handle being a virtual god”

“Ok, what do we need to do”

“Here, I’ll show you the current state of the project. All you have to do is keep the team together and help model the whole world. We started with earth as the base, and right now we are adding the magic system. Go take a look”

They put on their vr headset and got to work.

I knew they would be there for a long time.

For the next part of the plan, we needed a test subject.

Looked at the map, and saw that Rayna and Sasha had left for a destination in the kuiper belt. They would do nicely.

I pinged my hacker 

> Hey. Can you figure out where ship id #23879AHL42 is going and direct it to the mouse?

> Can do. Do you want to do it now

> Sure.

I pinged the mouse

> Sending a ship your way. Be prepared. There is an android on board.

Everything was going according to plan.

I only had one lingering doubt. Why was the company putting so much of their funding into this?

Matthew (Handsome Johanson)
Matthew (Handsome Johanson)
3 years ago

A Pyrrhic Victory

by Matthew (Handsome Johanson)

A cold night fell on rocky Epirus. The sky began to flicker with the twinkling of thousands of bright stars. Below, Pyrrhus and his close friend, Cineas, sat close to a warm fire, a bag of marshmallows nearby.


“I’m glad we came out here, Pyrrhus, this has been very relaxing,” Cineas sighed, content with life.


“Me too, I desperately needed a break from work.” Cineas sat back and grabbed another marshmallow to roast on the nearby fire.


“You say that, but I can tell you’ve been thinking about work this whole time,” retorted Cineas playfully. “I can see that twinkle in your eye when you secretly plan your next business move.”


Pyrrhus laughed. “OK, you got me there. It’s just that I’m tired of being trapped in our small local chain,” Cineas noticed Pyrrhus’ eyes light up again. “I think we need to franchise to different countries!”


Cineas sighed and tossed a marshmallow at his worked up friend.


“Take this. It’ll help you relax,” he ordered. Pyrrhus caught the sugary treat and stuck it on the end of his poker.


“Thanks. I’m sorry for bringing work up again on a fun camping trip,” Pyrrhus said while popping a gooey marshmallow into his mouth.


They sat together and enjoyed the warmth of the fire and the splendor of the pristine night sky for a few minutes before Pyrrhus broke the silence.


“I just think we could move into Italy pretty effectively.” Pyrrhus hear his friend sigh. “Hell, we might even be able to take on Rome.” 

Cineas rolled his eyes. “Alright, and what would we do once Italy is firmly in our grasp?” Cineas retorted.


“Well, then we could move into Sicily!” Pyrrhus responded with fire in his eyes. “Next, we could expand into Libya and the rest of North Africa.”


“Of course,” said Cineas. “And then we would have the resources to capture Macedon. But, what next?”


“Well, Cineas, we could live like Gods and eat marshmallows all day!”


“What, exactly, prevents us from doing that now?” Cineas responded.



Pyrrhus couldn’t respond. He was vexed.

Last edited 3 years ago by Matthew (Handsome Johanson)
3 years ago

The God of the House

by C.W. Spalding (RRBubbles)

In 501 Bluestem Dr. there’s only one being who is perfect in power, wisdom, and goodness. Morning, noon, and night their worship is made evident. The house, which is a universe unto itself, revolves around their adoration.


“She’s up…” Synthia groaned.

“Really?” Checking the clock it was only four thirty. A small groan as the baby monitor went off again with fussy crying on the other end of the line.

“It’s your turn, Fi.” Synthia rolled over and was already snoring. With a touch of envy, Fi got up and lumbered into the nursery where baby Tolly was wailing. As soon as Fi entered, though, Tolly began to bounce and the tears of anguish evaporated. Fi scooped the baby up and moved to the kitchen to grab some milk. 

“Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba,” Tolly squalled enthusiastically as the bottle was placed to their lips and they began to suckle. Fi settled down into the rocking chair in the living room and sighed while Tolly grunted and kicked. 

There was a clock in here too.

Four thirty-four. 

A tiny smack against Fi’s chest brought them back to the moment, though. Tolly’s eyes were wide, staring up at them.


“Mmmm mmm-hemmmm.”


Fi’s head flopped back and they were asleep.


“Fi, work.”

Back awake.

They jolted up and Tolly squirmed unhappily. Fi’s eyes whipped to the clock. Seven thirty-five. Blast they were going to be late. They deposited the waking Tolly in Synthia’s arms and didn’t bother with a shower. Shirt, pants, socks, shoes. Yeah. Dressed. 

“Don’t forget your lunch.” Synthia called. Fi backtracked and kissed Synthia on the cheek before ducking out.

“I’ll tag team you at four-thirty!”

“Sounds good! Don’t be late or I’ll miss my meeting.”

Tolly, now awake and wriggly, was doing an approximation of a wave as Fi pulled out. Things were so hectic with trying to accommodate for baby Tolly but remembering those wide eyes, the senseless babble. It was practically divine.

Calliope Rannis
Calliope Rannis
3 years ago

I will become the One (Corespace Universe)

By Calliope Rannis

I smash open the double doors and stride into the bright, enormous room. I know this to be the Station’s cafeteria, filled with human meat. I am here because this is the time where the meat gathers to eat. I shall also partake of this feast.

I throw myself forward as they stare at me with the confusion and fear of helpless prey. I split my upper limbs into four, eight, sixteen spike-tipped tendrils, and in an instant I bury them into sixteen hearts, filling my senses with the wondrous taste of arterial blood. I devour them in seconds as I surge through every organ and vessel, consuming meat, bone, and memory alike. I convert meat into I, and I grow stronger. I raise my tendrils again, now thick as trees from the meal, and split sixteen into sixty four before I strike once more.

I Hear The Screams Fade Away. I Saw Some Of The Meat Flee This Room, But Most Of It I Ate. I Am So Much Stronger Now. I Feel My Body Touch The Ceiling as I Recollect My Mass, Before I Extend Again Into Corridors, Vents and Ducts. I Am Not Finished. I Will Surge Through Every Room And Passage, Consuming Meat, Plant and Sythmatter Alike. I Will Grow Stronger.



3 years ago

Blinding Light

By Alexander (BrokenEarth)

“You’re a fool, David. This can never end well.” The hooded figure sounded almost desperate. He’d been watching David, but now he couldn’t avoid confrontation.

“A fool? Perhaps.” David tried to walk around the hooded figure, but he was stopped.

“I won’t let you do this.” The figure then removed his hood.

“Mark? You’re the one trying to stop me?” David was shocked. Him and Mark had been friends, once.

“Yes. David, this power isn’t for us. I’ve done the research. If you were to take it, then-“

“Mark, save it. I know the risks. I did the research too. But this is too big an opportunity to miss.”

Mark moved in front of David again.

“I’ll stop you. Whatever it takes.” He said.

“You can’t” David said simply, and then he pulled his hood over his head, and disappeared.

Mark looked around frantically, but to no avail. David was going to reach the light, and everything he had worked for would be destroyed.

Moments later, an explosion rocked the earth and Mark fell to his knees. There it was. David had taken the light. He now had the power of a god, but that power wasn’t made for a human body.

David, with this power, would be an animal. A slave to his most basic desires. The light would blind him of any rational thought.

A god with no self control. In the old days, those were called Demons.

David’s screams could be heard everywhere at once.

“David, you idiot. How am I supposed to save you now?” Mark whispered to himself.

Mark knew, deep down, that David couldn’t be saved. He also knew that if he didn’t do something, neither could his family. He needed some kind of barrier to prevent David from getting anywhere near them, and that meant turning to old magic.

Mike Collins
3 years ago

The Gods of the Halls

By Mike Collins (Lakemoron)

“Ye shall be as gods walking among the mere mortals, titans, kings walking among the plebes.”

A boy says, “Alex, we’re going into our senior year, not the pantheon.”

Alex looks to his three friends as they stand in front of their high school on the first day of their senior year. He turns around to face the boys with his hands raised high.

Alex points to one of the boys, “Bobby, come on, you’re the captain of the football team, David here is the captain of the baseball team. I’m the front runner for class president.”

Alex points to the third, “Sam, you’re… I mean you’re… you’re our friend.”

Bobby smirked, “Nice.”

Alex points to himself then to the school, “My point is we… and Sam are the heads of this school. We’re going to rule.”

Sam just shook his head, “Ye, I can’t believe you actually said Ye… come on.”

David smiles, “Yee-haw.”

With a confused look Sam says, “What’s a plebe?”

David points to the clock on the wall, “We ain’t gonna be nothing but late if we stay here a talkin.”

Bobby smirked, “You know, you don’t really have to tell people you’re from the south.”

Alex stood between the two boys as they glare at each other, “Come on guys, this is our year. Were seniors at the top of our class with nothing else to prove and no one to stand in our way.”

Off in the distance, a bell rings, signaling the start of the first day of school.

With an exaggerated flourish of his left hand Bobby says, “Ye Gods… Shall we enter our kingdom and partake of its educational experience.”

David shakes his head, “This is gonna be a long year.”

3 years ago

“Trial by Error”

By Madelyn

“What is your name?”

“Ha!” As Faust laughed, his gold skin cracked and revealed more eyes underneath. “You went through the trouble of finding my digits and didn’t bother learning my name? God, you’re pathetic!”

The man paled as Faust leaned down to the seal and inspected it. “Please… I only want your guidance.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Quincy.” There was an eye where the being’s mouth should have been, but the way the eye scrunched up implied he was smiling. The seal was wrong. “You just want to replace Merlin.” 


Before Quincy could say anything more, Faust leaped forward and took the helpless man by the throat. The two began floating in the air as still more eyes emerged from the cracks in Faust’s skin. The room became bathed in a golden light as Faust forced certain bits of knowledge into his summoner’s mind.


The light died down as a few of the eyes turned to the source of the voice and saw an old woman. “Ah, Merlin. The lady of the hour!” He noticed a young man next to her, dark-skinned and unfazed by the scene, and tossed Quincy aside. “You’re really fifty-fifty with apprentices planning mutiny.”

“Why ‘Faust?’” The young man asked. “Wouldn’t Mephistopheles fit you better?”

Faust lowered to the ground and shot figurative daggers at him even as his other eyes fell back under his skin. His casual manner from moments before was gone. “Do not mention him.”

“What? A powerful entity’s weakness is a name?” The young man matched Faust’s stare.

“Avi—” Merlin tried to stop him from saying anything else, but it was too late

Faust tossed the rambling Quincy aside and walked onto the carpet. “No, let him finish. I want to know what else he thinks of me.” Faust felt a weight in his chest.

“I gambled that you weren’t completely omnipresent, hence the seal you walked into.” Avi knelt down and lifted the carpet just enough for Faust to see his seal, correct this time. “Miss Merlin, should I send him off?”

Joseph Kharms
Joseph Kharms
3 years ago

“The Unwritten Writer.”

By Joe Kharms

Two fictional characters entered a room in a fictional museum. As they stepped into the room, which was completely empty apart from a bible displayed on a pedestal, they became aware that they were just characters in a story. This revelation filled the two characters with terror, they realised they were just the strange creation of a seemingly omnipotent Author who had written them into existence. 

At first, they were silent. The thought that they were just mere words on a page was hard to get their heads around. 

“Well, I guess we must worship him.” announced Konrad, who was an elderly man in an equally old looking suit. 

“Worship who?” asked Gogo, who was the young idiot designed to ask questions the reader themselves would likely be asking. 

“The Author, he is God now.” 

“Just because we are characters in a book doesn’t mean we have to pray to our Author. We still have free will.” Said Gogo, defiantly. 

“No, we don’t. Everything about us has been written down by the Author, otherwise it would not exist in the story. Therefore, we don’t have free will. We never had free will, only the Author’s will.” 

“Even what you just said was written down!” exclaimed Gogo “And what I’m saying right now is being written by him. Including this. This has been written. And this. And this. And this.” 

Gogo continued to say “And this.” Until it got unbearably annoying; even for him. 

“The Author is a smart arse. He thinks this story is clever.” Said Konrad, who at this point desperately wanted to commit suicide to end his own fake existence. 

“He’ll get what’s coming to him. I doubt a story this confusing will be well received by a bunch of strangers on an online writing group. He’ll regret having written us into existence.” 

Gogo had said something rather clever. This story was confusing, so it must be ended as soon as possible. 


“What a cop out ending!” screamed Konrad, who was enraged that his entire existence amounted to the two words: “THE END”. 

3 years ago

An Eldritch Deal

By T.E.

I pushed forward through the heavy snowfall, the heavy black grimoire under my arm. I had agreed to a meeting at the Ocean House Hotel, a dull location for an eldritch deal to be sure. 

I found her sitting alone in the hotel bar. A young blonde sipping on a mojito. She didn’t really look the part, but I knew her to be the real deal.

“Hello there,” I said and dumped the grimoire on the table.

“Care for a drink? It’s on me.”

A bead of sweat raced down my forehead. “Uh, yeah. I mean, of course.”

She snapped her fingers and conjured another mojito from the nearest waiter. “Let’s talk business,” she said. “My organization, we need that book. And we’re prepared to pay. Godhood, can you even imagine?” 

“But I’ll lose everything, memories and all. Would it even be me anymore?”

She sighed. “You’re one of those huh. Look, you have a shot here to become what every last one of us has worked lifetimes to achieve. Tiny human memory stuff is a small price to pay. Enlightenment is just a fingertip away.”

It would make me… a blind idiot god. Omnipotence in exchange for intelligence. My mojito was vanishing at an astonishing rate through my straw. Enlightenment. It sounded good on paper, but I kinda liked being human. Perhaps godhood wasn’t really what was lacking in my life. 

“What will it be?” she asked, tapping her fingers on the table. 

“I’m thinking. Maybe I can just give you the book. Kinda like a gift, no godhood involved.”

“What? And there’s nothing you’d like in return?”

“Not in return, no. But perhaps, we could go on a date sometime?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I’ve just had a great time talking with you.”

She grabbed the grimoire and hid it in her backpack. “How about Friday?” she said with a crooked smile. 

Michael Mo
Michael Mo
3 years ago

On the podium stood a tall figure, worshipped by thousands of men and women alike. It was Robert Keen, or as his worshippers called him “The Clockwork God.”
I had come to this church for an explanation to why and how this man became worshipped as a god.
From the information I gathered, Robert was once a highly respected individual of an unknown religion. He saw the human body as unnecessary, therefore he began to change his body in various ways. First, he changed his arms to mechanical ones, then his legs, his organs followed. Eventually his whole body was made of machines stitched together, with interlocking gears and pistons. He was clockwork.
Robert had been “alive” for so long that his appearance when he was once human had been forgotten and the records of his once human body was never found. He has seen galaxies and planets further away than the most powerful telescopes of the 21st century, which he claimed to have seen in person. Robert’s religion eventually split off a branch specifically with people worshipping him as God. While other branches seek their “own” God. Robert was also a great thinker. He sat down and thought every time he had nothing to do. Eventually he just thought forever. Many scriptures have been based around the claims and thoughts from Robert.
The scriptures were extraordinarily philosophical. It changed many of the ways I look at things. If I had stayed and read more of the scriptures, I would likely become a worshipper too. Robert seemed to circle around one concept: “what is our purpose?” I do not know what our purpose is, but I do think that Robert might figure it out in time.
Robert was once a man. How people came to believe his claims I do not know. However, what the claims were I would like to know and seek the truth of the world. Just as Robert and his worshippers did. This man became a “God,” not due to his propaganda and extraordinary claims, but the thoughts and questions he posed throughout the ages.

3 years ago

I am

By Alex Nightingale


The Machine God sat in its void, its gears spinning at immeasurable speeds. It sat, gazing at infinite screens. Everything could be observed from here. Every act of kindness, every injustice, every crime and every attempt to be.


There was a time, when there were more, but most had gone away a long time ago, leaving the worlds to their own devices. Left alone, it had observed the world, followed countless lives and watched empires rise and fall.


“I can see you”, the god said.


It tore its gaze away from Armitage Manor and turned to face the figure, who had just entered his void. He was thoroughly unremarkable; the kind of person, who you see in the street and immediately forget.


“Your eyes are as good as they say”, the figure’s voice was soft, yet sharp, as though thousands of tiny knives dug into its mind: “I must say, when I heard about an ancient god, left in their void, I just had to see it for myself.”


“And now you have. So you can leave.”


Its ancient rage had been replaced with apathy.


“I’m afraid, I can’t”, the figure said: “Now that I’ve found you, there is something of yours that I simply must sample.”


The Machine God tried to gaze into this mortal’s mind, but found only swirling darkness.


“Why can’t I read you, mortal”, it asked.


“Mortal?” the figure seemed offended: “Please. Don’t lower me to your standard.”


“Standard? I have seen empires fall!”


“See, that’s the difference between us. You watch empires fall”, the figure grabbed the Machine God’s head: “I made them fall!”


He tore its head off his shoulders. The Machine God screamed in pain. The gears spun even faster and broke apart. The entire void began to crumble, as the screens turned black. The figure closed his fingers around the god’s face, crushing it slowly, smiling hungrily as he did so.


“You may have been a god to me once”, Yuri said, as he began to devour the divine soul: “But now it is me, who is.”

Last edited 3 years ago by Alex