Categories > Original > Fantasy

The Death Of God

by Togot 0 reviews

If you are religious and easily offended, DON'T READ THIS! You have been warned and if you continue after this warning you wave any and all rights to get angry or complain.

Category: Fantasy - Rating: R - Genres: Fantasy - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2005-09-05 - Updated: 2005-09-06 - 8407 words - Complete

Michael sat at his table with his head down and eyes closed. As always he wore His distinctive scowl and as always he sat alone. The teacher had said for everyone to group up but no one ever wanted to work with Michael. Instead he had just sat there as every other student gotten together in little groups of their own excluding him as they always did.
It may not have been Michael's idea to be alone but he had gotten used to it over the years. He wasn't quite sure how it started but early in his life Michael noticed that other people just didn't like being around him.
He also noticed he had terrible luck, every time Michael planned something that might make him happy something would happen to ruin it. If he wanted to go play laser tag then the place would be shut down, if he wanted to go outside it would rain, if he wanted to buy something his money would disappear or the item would be out of stock. His entire life had been like this; as if there were some force at work deliberately tormenting him.
Needless to say he had become a little bitter over the years. He always expected the worst and had long since given up hope of things ever getting better. And he automatically assumed that anyone talking to him or acting nice to him was a filthy lyre that was trying to trick him like all the others that had before.
He was constantly in trouble with the school for beating up kids who were trying to pick on him. Michael despised the school system; it was such hypocrisy, just like the rest of society. It claimed that intelligence and hard work would good things when it only rewarded stupidity and laziness.
Michael hated everything, the school, the people in the school, the whole damn world. Every day he wanted to see the whole thing burn. And every day he was given a new reason to burn it and today was no exception. Once again he had been cast out by his peers and, despite his teachers instructions that no one work alone, she didn't say a single word when he had been rejected once again.
Michael didn't really mind though, he preferred working alone; it was all he knew after all. He honestly wouldn't know how to work with other people. He simply sat there until the teacher told them to start working and he did so quietly while all the other students chattered like the dumb animals they really were.
Like every other assignment Michael finished first, probably because he had spent his time working instead of talking. And as always he was ridiculed for it. The other students whispered their little insults amongst themselves but Michael could hear them, and as always he didn't care.
After class Michael walked to the office like he had to everyday to talk to the school psychologist. Michael hated it but after he put three boys in the hospital for attacking him the school hadn't given him a choice in the matter. He was being punished for defending himself against three other boys because he had won the fight, for Michael it was just one more reason to hate the world nd everything in it.
Michael opened the door and saw Mr. McKay sitting in his chair. Michael couldn't figure out how such an idiot ever got a job. The first day they had met McKay had asked if Michael heard voices in his head. Who the hell would be dumb enough to say yes to that? Michael had spent their first meeting ignoring him but now that he had to see him everyday he made a game out of taunting the idiot.
"Hello Michael how are you today?" McKay asked with the same fake smile he always had. Doesn't he ever get tired of asking that? Michael wondered.
"Miserable and depressed, same as always," Michael answered as he sat down eager to get this over with. Mr. McKay read over a note he had on his desk.
"So your teacher tells me you still don't want to work with the other students. Want to tell me why?" McKay looked at Michael with that same accusing look Michael always got when some one had already made up there mind about him.
"If by not working with others that filthy bitch means no one wanted to work with me and she didn't say anything about it, I guess you would have to ask them about it wouldn't you?" Michael had long since learned there was no point trying to explain the truth to people; McKay had made up his mind just like everyone else. McKay sighed, warning Michael that he was about to get another idiotic lecture with a piece of useless advice.
"Michael if you want others to want to work with you then you have to make yourself approachable. Try smiling once in a while and talk to your classmates," McKay said in that condescending tone adults always used when they thought they were being helpful. Michael had never said he wanted others to want to work with him, if they didn't like him the way he was then fuck them all.
Michael walked out of Mr. McKay's office at after nearly an hour of hearing the idiot prattle on about Michael being socially unacceptable and how he needed to conform and become another mindless drone of society. It was just another miserable day in Michael's wretched life.
At last the bell rang and Michael had survived yet another miserable day in high school. As he approached the door a group of freshmen approached him.
"So you're supposed to be the tough guy around here? You don't look so tough to me," the leader of the little midgets mocked.
Michael already knew what this was about and sure enough he could see the seniors who had put these little morons up to this watching from a safe distance. They would wait until the fight started and then get a teacher to get Michael in trouble.
Michael sighed and shook his head; didn't these fools know that they were being used? They were going to get their asses kicked for some assholes who didn't give a damn about them and for what? So those same assholes would get them to do more dirty work for them?
"You do realize I could kill all four of you without breaking a sweat right?" Michael asked without any emotion. He knew kids like these would most likely back down when threatened and he didn't want to go through the hassle that would come from fighting them. Sure enough the leader of the group wavered and Michael turned to walk away.
"Kick his ass or we'll kick yours!" one of the seniors yelled out. Damn seniors, Michael thought. The leader of the freshmen rushed towards him and Michael shot out his hand and grabbed the boy by the throat. When most people took some one by the neck they made the mistake of placing their fingers on the side where the muscle was. Michael knew to place his fingers around the wind pipe.
"All I have to do is squeeze," Michael said in a low, threatening voice. The younger boy looked like he would pee his pants and Michael figured he got the message. He released his death grip and walked out the front door while the boy rubbed his neck thankful to be alive.
Michael tried to hurry but he was too late. His little scuffle had made him miss the bus. He cursed under his breath and started walking home. He was about halfway there when it started to rain hard, reminding Michael of the one thing he hated more than anything else...God. Michael stuck his middle finger up at the sky and screamed as loud as he could.
-About half an hour latter Michael stepped through the front door soaking wet and so pissed off he could kill a baby in its crib. As he took off his shoes his mother ran in the room looking like a bomb had went off. Michael knew what was coming and he wasn't looking forward to it.
"Why on earth are you home so late? Do you have any idea how worried I was? And look at you you're soaking wet," she shrieked. His mother looked as if she would keel over any minute from a heart attack. Michael knew it wouldn't do any good to explain to her so he just shrugged and walked to his room.
Michael changed out of his wet clothes and was about to sit down when her heard a scratching at his door. He opened it up for the little dog he knew was waiting to come in.
"Hi there Misty," Michael said and smiled as the runt of a Chihuahua jumped up on his bed. The little dog was his only companion and perhaps the only thing in this filthy world that he loved. When he had found her two years ago he was the only human she would let pick her up without screaming and now she slept next to him every night.
Michael gently patted her tiny head and picked up a book to read. In order to try and get some sense of control in his life Michael had his day planed out on a routine. He would read one chapter in his book and then he would start on his numerous chores. Mow the lawn, clean the dog cage, take out the trash, do the dishes and then the laundry.
Most teenagers would object to such an arrangement but Michael didn't mind, at least if he was working, at least he was being useful. That was more than most kids his age could say. Michael liked to remind himself that he was better than the rest of them. Granted he was never rewarded or even thanked for anything he did, it was just expected of him.
Michael did all his chores and finally it was time for bed. Misty hopped up into the covers and wagged her tail as he lay down beside her. He pulled up the covers and, as he did every night, hoped he would never wake up. Not that he wanted to dream forever since every single night he was plagued by nightmares. And as an added bonus he felt pain in his dreams so when the monster ate him, it hurt. He just hoped that he would die in his sleep and his insufferable existence would finally be over.
The next day Michael came home from another day of hell. He had paid for his little run in with the freshmen the previous day and spent over an hour in the principles office...again. Just more boring lectures and veiled threats of juvenile hall. When would these morons figure out that he just didn't care? Michael didn't see much difference between juvenile hall and the shit hole school he was forced to go to every day.
Michael went into his room and sat down to read his book. He was almost done with the page when he noticed something was different. Misty hadn't scratched on his door to be let in yet. Michael put his book down and opened his door but she wasn't there. He looked around the house but could find no trace of her.
"Mom where's Misty?" He called out. He walked into the kitchen where she was cooking super and waited for a response. His mom seemed hesitant to answer.
"I'm sorry Michael but she ran out the door when I came home, I don't know where she went," she said and went back to cooking. Michael felt a wave of rage come over him. Why the hell hadn't she told him the second he came through the door? He wanted to scream at her but he knew it wouldn't help matters so he ran out the door to find his dog.
Michael had been searching for over an hour and now he was getting scared. He had expected to find her quickly but he had looked over the entire neighborhood and still no sign of her. He was walking through the woods near the school when he heard a familiar sound, cruel laughter.
Michael fallowed the noise until he came upon a group of boys standing in a circle looking down at something on the ground. Something Michael recognized immediately, Misty. She was laying there broken and beaten, she was dead.
Michael knew that these bastards had killed his little dog, they had beaten her to death and now they would pay. Michael felt his fists clench so hard it hurt, he wanted to kill these boys. Michael didn't say a word as he walked up to the closest one and punched him in the back of the head so hard the boy was knocked unconscious.
The other three were too surprised to do anything before Michael attack the next one. Michael grabbed the boy by the throat and slamming his own forehead into the boy's nose. Michael heard and felt bone and cartilage snap and saw the blood ooze from the face of his dog's killer. He dropped the boy's limp body to the ground and turned to face the last two.
The boys were both shocked at what Michael had done to their friends but now that Michael no longer had the element of surprise they decided to stand their ground. The boy on the right with short bleached hair led the charge and the shorter boy across from Michael fallowed.
The taller boy threw a punch at Michael face that a child could have dodged but Michael didn't even try to avoid it. He wanted to feel some pain; he wanted his body to hurt as much as his heart did. But most of all he wanted this sick murderer to hit Michael with everything he had just to see how weak and pathetic he was against a real opponent. He wanted him to feel as helpless as Misty must have felt when they had broken her tiny body.
The two boys threw one punch after another and Michael took them all without as much as a twitch. Then the taller boy threw a right hook and Michael tightened up his neck. The punch landed right on his cheekbone but Michael didn't move and inch, instead he pushed into the blow and it was his attacker who screamed out in pain.
The boy held his shaking hand and Michael could see the bones from the boy's fingers sticking out. Michael had broken the boys hand on his face. Michael reached out and grabbed the injured hand and squeezed. The boy screamed even louder as Michael crushed his already broken hand.
When the boy fell to his knees his companion took off running. Michael wasn't about to let the little coward get away. He threw a straight punch right between the kneeling boy's eyes and knocked him out cold. Then he picked up a stick and threw it at the fleeing killer. The stick went right between the boys legs and made him fall on his face.
Michael slowly walked over to the boy as he tried to crawl away. When he realized he couldn't escape the boy started pleading with tears in his eyes, saying he was sorry and the others forced him to do it. Michael wondered how loud Misty had cried when they killed her. Crying certainly didn't stop them then and it wouldn't stop Michael now.
Michael hit the boy over and over again until they crying stopped, and then it was quiet. Michael sat alone with his pain and anger building in him. All four boys were unconscious, chances were at least one of them was dead and there would be no satisfaction beating them if they couldn't feel it.
Michael knew he would most likely go to jail for this, knew and didn't care. There was nothing that could cause him more pain than he felt right now, so much rage, and so little relief. And no one left to direct his anger at, except for God.
When his mother had forced him to go to church Michael had been told that everything that happens is according to Gods plan. Michael had been so angry when he heard that, to think that all the misery he had suffered, all his pain was the act of one sick bastard up in the sky looking down at him and laughing.
God had created Michael without his permission and damned him to this hellish life. Do to three disks twisted in his neck Michael had never ending headaches, every night he had nightmares and could feel pain in those nightmares everyday he sat alone while others around him talked and played and enjoyed each others company. Everyone had something that made them happy except for him and it was all according to the will of some divine prick! And now that almighty asshole had taken away the one thing he cared about, the only thing that had ever shown him affection. Michael looked to the sky to curse his creator.
"Damn you...damn you! DAMN YOU TO THE LOWEST PIT OF HELL YOU SICK FUCKING FREAK!!!" Michael slumped down in defeat. Michael felt helpless yelling and screaming at an enemy he couldn't touch, at least not yet. Through clenched teeth Michael hissed a promise.
"I swear when I die I will kill you."
"Why wait?" Some one asked from behind him.
Michael spun around ready for another fight. He wasn't used to people sneaking up on him but he figured he must have been distracted by his outburst. Standing in front of him was a beautiful woman scantily dressed in dark red. She had long black hair and even though she was smiling there was something unfriendly about her.
Michael clenched his fists, he didn't like the way she was smiling at him. She looked at him as if he were a bug, a bug she wanted to use for something, and nobody used him.
"Lady, you picked the wrong day to piss me off" Michael said as he slowly stood up ready to lay this bitch out right beside the rest of his little collection. He didn't have a problem hitting a woman if she deserved it and this one deserved it. Mocking some one who just lost their dog? That was just plain mean.
"I did not come here to add to your pain dear Michael, I came to help you relieve it," she said. That got Michaels attention.
"You know my name?" He asked suspiciously. He had never seen this woman before. And even if he had he certainly had not introduced himself.
"I know many things about you Michael," she said. "I have been watching you for quite some time." She was certainly sure of herself. Michael didn't like being at a disadvantage.
"Well you know my name so tell me yours, and why you have been watching me," he demanded
"You can call me Lucy and I've been watching you because I think we can help each other."
"Funny, you don't look like a Lucy to me," Michael said still not trusting her. Lucy smiled at him and it made his skin crawl.
"It's short for Lucifer."
Michael glared at her, he was not amused. Granted he thought all women were evil but if she expected him to believe that she was the Devil she was mistaken.
"Really...aren't you supposed to be a guy?" He asked.
Michael watched as Lucy's skin shifted to a deep red and two horns protruded from her head. Michael thought the little tail was a cute touch but still Lucifer remained a woman.
"Is this better? I prefer the form of a woman, the form of seduction and temptation; I am the Devil after all." She said grinning with sharp teeth. Michael was surprised but strangely unafraid he figured if she wanted to kill him he would already be dead, and he wasn't really afraid of dying anyway so what's the worst she could do?
" what do you want from me?" He asked. Michael felt more curious than frightened. The Devil herself had taken time to talk to him, might as well find out why.
"I want to help you kill God," she said sweetly. "That is what you want is it not?"
"And just how are you going to help me do that?" Michael asked as Lucifer stepped closer to him with a smile.
"All you have to do is kiss me," She said trying to sound innocent. Michael wasn't sure if she was serious or teasing but either way he wasn't keen on the idea. He didn't even like touching other people let alone kissing them. But he wasn't one to shy away from a chance like this. He didn't care if it was a trick or not. So, to kill God, Michael stepped forward and kissed the Devil herself.
At first Michael didn't feel any different after pulling his lips away. Then he doubled over holding his stomach in pain. It felt like something was ripping his insides apart. Michael had never felt such pain but he refused to give in.
"Now take the form of your rage," Lucifer commanded.
Michael looked at his arm and saw his muscles moving under his skin, writhing like snakes just below the surface. Then the skin itself changed, Michael felt it harden into a leathery hide and it turned dark grey.
Michael screamed when two huge leathery wings sprouted form his back. He screamed louder when long, sharp spines sprang out of his elbows pointing back and two more came up from his kneecaps. Next Michael grew a long, think muscular tail and his finger nails were replaced by claws. He felt his teeth change into fangs and he was no longer screaming, he was roaring.
Then the pain was gone. Michael stood up and looked himself over. His short brown hair had grown long and turned pure white and he could feel boney protrusions going down his spine. His body felt so much stronger, he felt like he could rip the world in two. He looked up at a very satisfied Devil.
"What the hell did you do to me?" He asked
"I have unlocked the potential within you," she answered. "Now your strength is limited only by your rage. Unlike a human, angels, even fallen angels, have no soul and cannot use this power as a human can because we cant feel hatred or anger. Angels can only feel love and joy. With this power you can even kill God himself. Now lead my army to the gates of heaven, and burn it to the ground!"
Michael could feel the power coursing through him. But before he let it go to his head he wanted some answers.
"What do you mean angels love?" he asked. "You're the fucking Devil! Aren't you supposed to be evil and mean as hell or something? And I owe you my soul for this little gift of yours right?" Lucifer laughed aloud shaking her head.
"Angels only feel love," she said. "I just happen to love chaos and destruction; its how God made me after all. And no, you don't owe me your soul. You would have come down to me anyway; I just want to help you destroy heaven. I love destruction and what could be more destructive and chaotic than killing God?"
That answer made sense. Michael had finally found someone he understood, ironic that it had to be the Devil. Michael knew that there was probably a catch but he didn't care, as long as got to have his fun the Devil could do whatever she wanted when it was over.
"Ok so now I'm freaky looking," Michael said. "That's fine but how do I get to heaven, do I have to die or something?"
Lucifer laughed again, Michael was getting sick of being her amusement but he could put-up with it a little longer as long as he got his prize.
"You'll figure it out," she said. "It would be best for you to get used to using your new powers here on earth before taking on the throne. Just remember that they are only limited to your imagination and powered by your rage. Have fun." And with that, flames swirled up around her from the ground and she was gone.
Michael stood there alone thinking about what had just happened. He had been turned into some kind of demon by the Devil for the purpose of killing God and destroying heaven...what a day. And now the fun could really begin.
Michael walked over to the unconscious bodies of the boys who had killed his little dog. It was time to test out whatever powers he had. Michael held his hand over then and concentrated on what he wanted. Wake up, he thought, wake up and fucking die! And slowly the boys woke up.
"Good you're awake," Michael said with a smile. "Now we can get back to work." The boys stared at him in horror. Michael flexed his new claws and with one swipe he ripped off the side of the closest boys face. It was so easy; the flesh just came off like tissue paper.
The boy fell to the ground and his three friends started screaming in terror as Michael shot his new tail out and wrapped it around one of their necks. He lifted the boy off the ground and laughed with sadistic glee as he tightened his grip and strangled the boy. Michael's new tail almost seemed to move on its own, he simply thought and the tail obeyed. The tail tightened its snake like grip until Michael heard the boy's neck brake.
The remaining two finally got the sense to try and run but one quick flick of the tail and their dead friend flew through the air and knocked them both to the ground. Michael slowly walked over to the whimpering cowards. It was time to see what other powers he had.
Michael held his hand out with his palm pointing at the two boys and concentrated. Burn you mother fuckers, he thought. First a flicker appeared in front of his hand and then a torrent of liquid flame engulfed the two screaming boys and melted their flesh.
Michael stood over the steaming puddle that used to be two people and looked at his hand in awe. He was going to have a lot of fun getting revenge on all the worthless people that had tormented him. He was so excited he didn't know where to begin, so many people deserved to die. He leapt into the air and took flight, first stop, the school.
Michael couldn't believe how free he felt flying through the air. The feel of the wind blowing through his hair and under his wings, it was exhilarating. He felt weightless as he soared through the clouds. Michael looked down on all the little bugs bellow him; soon they to would all feel his pain.
Michael reached the school and perched himself on top of the flag pole. He looked the place over but remembered that school was over for the day. Michael sighed, even now he was still being denied. He thought for a moment and then decided on a new target, one more fitting for his eventual task. Michael directed his palm towards the school and a large fire ball of fame erupted from his hand and the school was reduced to rubble.
Michael took to the air once again and flew in search of his next target. After a short while he found what he was looking for and landed on the roof. He looked down but didn't see anyone, not that it would have mattered. Michael jumped down to the ground and walked through the front doors. He walked up the isle and stood before the crucified image of Christ.
"I'll deal with you soon mother fucker, but for now I think I'll just piss you off." Michael looked deep inside him self and tapped into all the anger and pain he had bottled up inside himself for so many years. And then he let it all out in an explosion of rage.
Just as advertised Michaels rage took a tangible form and erupted like a volcano. Red light and energy poured from his body like ghostly tentacles and ripped the building apart as Michael roared. The louder Michael roared the more energy he put out until the entire church was leveled to the ground. Michael took a deep breath, that hadn't been so hard.
"One down, plenty more to go," Michael said as he walked out of the rubble and went in search of the next one.
Michael had been going at it for about an hour now. So far he had destroyed ten churches and killed several priests and nuns. The more he used his powers the easier it got. But now his fun had drawn a lot of attention and the police were trying to interfere.
Michael didn't mind, it was fun seeing them try to stop him with their puny weapons. Michael would swoop down and snatch up one of the swat team members, fly up high and then drop them to their deaths as the others screamed and shot at him. Many of the people below were screaming about the end of the world, and they were right.
Michael had never had so much fun. For hours he destroyed buildings and slaughtered people running in the streets and the more he killed the stronger he got. Every now and again Michael ran into some one he knew, and hated, so he took his time dismembering them.
Finally Michael stood alone in a burning field of rubble and corpses as far as the eye could see. He had destroyed the entire city without even breaking a sweat and he had done it just for fun. He took a deep breath and looked to the sky.
"That's enough practice, time to get down to business," he said.
Michael had not simply been killing people for the fun of it, thought that was a large part of it. He had been awakening and learning the extent of his powers, and with that power came forbidden knowledge that had been buried in his once human mind.
Now he knew how to cross the barrier between heaven and earth. Now God was no longer out of reach. Michael took to the sky and soared upward to the kingdom of heaven, so he could burn it to the ground.
He flew until he found himself over Jerusalem. The portal to heaven was hidden in a cloud just over the holy city. Michael found the cloud easily enough. He found it amusing that the gates of heaven were right over the heads of fools fighting over the right to enter it and yet he would be the one going through to wreak havoc.
Michael stopped in front of the portal and thought for a moment. He shrugged and turned his attention to the filthy vermin below. First things first, he thought as he aimed his palm at the center of the city.
"Perish!" He growled as he unleashed a massive blast of pure malice and hate that erupted throughout the city. Millions of people screamed for an uncaring God to save them. They thought that God gave them this land but it was Michael who would take it from them. And with that taken care of Michael went through the portal.
Michael traveled through the long white tunnel that people saw when they died. He even met a few spirits on their way to their eternal rest. Michael couldn't help but laugh when he recognized them as the people had had killed earlier. They screamed and tried to reach the end of the tunnel but Michael gladly dispatched them.
He wasn't sure where they went but he knew he could kill the dead. They died just as they did when they were alive, gore and all. To Michael it meant that killing God might just be possible. He walked over the ghostly corpses and made it to the end of the tunnel.
Michael stood before an enormous golden gate where countless people were waiting to pass through. Michael looked over the crowed and recognized many of them as his victims. Michael smiled as he decided what to do with these unsuspecting fools. They probably thought they were off the hook now, poor delusional fools.
Michael let out a ferocious roar and all heads turned towards him. Michael looked at all the shocked faces starring at him and smiled.
"It's me again," he said. That was all he had to say to send countless souls screaming for the gates trying to get though. They clambered over each other trying to make it over the wall thinking that if they could just get inside they would be safe. That surely there god would save them. Even in haven they acted like filthy animals and they would be slaughtered as such.
Michael spread his wings and a dark shadow spread out among the fleeing insects. Anyone caught in the shadow fell into the void it created and were consumed by the darkness. Every soul Michael absorbed added to his power, and he was very hungry. Soon they were all gone and the kingdom of heaven lay before him ripe for the taking.
Michael was preparing to smash through the gates and do some real damage when a black portal opened up on the ground. Michael was expecting heavens first line of defense but instead watched as his benefactor rose up from the black hole looking very pleased.
Lucifer was wearing sexy black armor and her wings were now visible. She walked up to Michael and looked at the heavenly gate.
"Well Michael you are performing even better than I had hoped," she said. "But now you are taking on those who can fight back so I've come to offer some help." She snapped her fingers and dozens of additional dark holes appeared and from them poured thousands of demon warriors.
"They are yours to command and should prove very useful," she said with a smile.
Michael looked over Lucifer's gift and smiled, this would be fun. He was going to go to war with the Devil right by his side. No matter how this turned out Michael would die with a smile. He watched as Lucifer drew a wicked looking sword and handed it to Michael.
"This blade was made from the spear that killed Jesus Christ," she explained. "What killed the son can kill the father. Nice touch in the holy city by the way." Michael looked at the blade. It had a coiled grip that was solid black and had a good feel to it.
"I still don't understand why you need me for this; you have an army and this sword. Why not kill got yourself?" He asked.
"As I said before I don't have a soul like you do," she said. "I don't have the same free will so I can't kill God even if I have the opportunity. Only a human with hatred in his heart can do that."
"I see," Michael said brandishing the blade. "By the way what happens to the people I kill that are already dead? Is there an after life after the afterlife?" Lucifer laughed.
"When some one's soul is destroyed after death they simply cease to exist," she explained. "Otherwise there would be no point to this."
Michael nodded and led the charge and the army rushed in behind him. They smashed into the great gates and knocked them to the ground. The army trampled the golden gates underfoot as they poured through the opening ready to slaughter.
On the other side Michael was met with an angelic army. Michael smirked at weak looking angels, what did they know of war and carnage? Michael would teach them all they would ever want to know.
Michael roared and rushed at the closest angel, wrapping his tail around its neck and tossing it behind him into the savage horde of monsters that happily ripped it apart. One by one Michael cut down the angels and his army ripped them to pieces.
The angels made for unsatisfying victims, not screaming in terror or pain. Their faces showed no real emotion, they were blank like mindless slaves. Michael might as well have been killing dolls. Michael's demons on the other hand were in a frenzy of savagery.
The angels provided no real challenge for Michael. Lucifer was right, without a soul these things couldn't put up a real fight. Michael left most of them for the demons to kill and moved on ahead. He had bigger fish to fry.
Michael made his way up the steps of a large temple that he hopped was where his quarry awaited him. It was certainly big enough for a God but would he really be inside? Before now Michael hadn't given any thought to what it would actually be like to meet God. He knew it wouldn't be a warm reception, but he wondered what God would do to try and stop him.
Before Michael could find the answer he was given an obstacle. Standing before him was an angel holding a pear and sporting golden armor. This one seemed different than the others; it looked at him with conviction in its eyes.
"Well, well," Michael said with a grin. "It seems I finally got some attention around here. I just hope you're a better challenge than those weaklings back there. You got a name?"
Michael could feel his blood on fire. He hoped this new adversary was a better match than the others had been. He wanted to work for a victory; it was so much more fun when they struggled.
"I am St.Michael, the general of God's army," the angle declared proudly.
Michael hated the way this guy was looking at him. Like he was looking down on him just like those fuckers he had been forced to put up with all his life. This little prick thought he was better than him. Michael would show this angel just how wrong he was.
Michael glared at the angel with hate and excitement. He was looking forward to humbling this arrogant bastard. He started to circle around him and the angel fallowed step. This should be a good fight.
"Why are you doing this young Michael?" St.Michael asked. The question seemed like genuine curiosity so Michael decided to answer.
"Because even God must be held accountable for his actions," Michael spat. "When you create something you are responsible for it, you are supposed to take care of it, not torment it like a kid poking an injured animal with a fucking stick!"
"I do not understand you boy," St.Michael said in the cool voice of a soulless puppet. "Our God has given you life, free will and the earth itself and yet you begrudge him such gifts?"
"I begrudge him not giving me a choice! He didn't ask me, he forced his will upon me without my permission and for that I will see him die!" Michael growled. Merely thinking about it enraged him, he hated the feeling of being helpless. Soon that would all come to an end but first he had to kill this little shit.
Michael rushed at the angel and swung his sword at his opponent's midsection. St.Michael deflected the attack with the shaft of his spear and counterattacked with an upwards slash but Michael spun out of the way. As the two circled each other looking for another opening Michael smiled. Finally he had found a real enemy, a strong enemy.
Michael popped his neck from side to side as he readied himself for the next round.
This time it was St.Michael who took the offensive, lunging with his spear. Michael parried it away and swung at the angels head but his opponent managed to duck away just enough to avoid the blow.
Michael narrowed his eyes at the angel. Enough kid stuff, he thought as he rushed in to attack. Michael's attacks were wild and vicious but the angel managed to fend him off. Finally Michael had had enough. He knocked the angels spear to the side and kept it there with his sword, leavening his target wide open. Now I got you, Michael thought as he lunged forward with his mouth open and sank his fangs into St.Michael's neck.
Michael chomped down as hard as he could until he heard the angel drop his spear and felt the strength leave his body. He could taste the blood of the angel on his lips. It didn't taste like human blood; it was sweet and thick, almost like milk. Michael didn't care for the taste, and he didn't find this a fitting enough end for such an adversary. So, he released his death grip on the angel.
St.Michael's body fell to the ground as if it were lifeless. Michael grabbed the once proud champion of God by his wing and dragged him along the ground. Michael brought the defeated warrior to the edge of heaven and held him up by both wings over the earth.
"You think it's such a fucking paradise? You live with it!" Michael said as he ripped the wings off the angel as if he were a fly. With his wings gone, St.Michael fell to earth. He had been cast out of heaven and stripped of all his glory by a mere mortal.
Michael rubbed his hands together satisfied with the outcome of that little battle. Now it was on to bigger and better things. He returned to the gates that St.Michael had blocked before and made his way up the steps. It was time to kill God.
Michael smashed the doors down and burst into the room. He had been expecting a welcome party or some kind of trap but the place was as quiet as a graveyard. The chamber looked like the inside of a church. Rows of chairs on either side stain glass windows with weird angelic pictures in them and creepy biblical crap painted on the walls. At the front however, instead of the pedestal were the priest stood there was a throne with an old man dressed in white robes and a beard.
"God, is that you?" Michael asked taunting as he walked up the isle, letting his sword knock against each hew as he went by them. He flexed the claws of his free hand and the bones popped and echoed in the large chamber.
"Hello Michael," God answered in a calm voice. "I've been expecting you."
"Good, "Michael said brandishing the sword Lucifer had given him. "Then you know you're about to die you filthy whore hole."
God smiled and shook his head. He didn't seem afraid of Michael at all.
"Michael," God said. "Dear Michael, you have served your purpose well. All the pain you have felt in your life was meant to push you towards this day. Lucifer's army was growing too powerful so I let her think she had a champion to overthrow me. Overconfidence and arrogance always were her two greatest weaknesses. Then I gave her the opportunity to push you over the edge when your dog got loose and she took the bait, she whispered in the ears of those boys and they killed the only thing you loved. It was Lucifer's doing, not mine."
God paused for the reality of that fact to sink in. He stood up from his throne and held out a sword that was shining so brightly Michael couldn't look at it. He lowered his head and stared at the floor.
"Now Michael, you must turn your rage towards the ones truly responsible for your pain. Lucifer has used and deceived you my son, as she has so many others. Now take this weapon of righteousness and remove the scourge you have brought with you. Slay the Devil and cleanse yourself of the taint of evil and hate that you have cloaked yourself in for so long."
Michaels head was still down. His shoulders began to heave as if he was sobbing, but the sob began to sound like laughter. The laughter grew louder and darker until Michael raised his head laughing hysterically.
"You fucking moron!" Michael spat. "I figured that one out the moment she appeared to me. Do you think that even begins to cover your tab? You created me; you created that disgusting hellhole that you condemned me to! You are responsible and now you are going to pay! I AM GOING TO RIP YOUR FUCKING ORGANS OUT!"
Before God could even blink Michael threw his sword like a spear straight through his makers stomach with enough force to knock him back and pin him to his throne. This was it; God was going to die by Michaels hands at long last!
Michael rushed at God, punching and clawing and cursing at his creator. The more he assaulted his tormenter the more he wanted to hurt him. The rage inside of him just kept building and building. And as he assaulted this vile sack of filth all the things that led to this flashed through his mind.
His entire life he had watched everyone around him be happy so why couldn't he? Everyone around him had friends and companions who loved them, why did he have to be alone? He was eighteen years old and didn't have a single happy memory. What kind of sick, sadistic creature would do that to some one?
Michael roared with rage as he tilted Gods head back and sank his fangs into the bastard's throat. Unlike his assault on St.Michael he had no intention of letting go this time. Michael bit down as hard as he could until he had ripped God's throat out.
Michael stepped away and looked at the beaten and bloody form of the almighty. God's blood was a swirling mixture of gold and silver that tasted too pure for Michaels liking. He spit out the chunk of flesh he had taken and tried to get the taste out of his mouth but he couldn't.
Michael looked at the convulsing body before him as the life drained out of the creator of all life. God's body finally stopped convulsing and he let out one last long sigh, and then he was dead. At long last Michael had succeeded in killing his tormenter, it was over. But something was wrong, Michael could feel something happening to him but he couldn't figure out what or stop it.
A short while latter Lucifer walked into God's sanctum and looked upon God's corpse with a smile of satisfaction on her face. She stood before the one who had had the nerve to cast her from his sight so long ago.
"Still think I was arrogant for believing myself your equal father?" she asked triumphantly. "My little champion did his work well, a shame I neglected to tell him that if you die all things you gave life to die with you. Except of course for me, good thing I bit you before you cast me out of your kingdom, a little detail that book of yours failed to mention. All that I do I do out of love; my love for chaos, destruction and of coarse, power."
She turned her back on her former judge and master to look upon the empty world when suddenly she saw a flash of movement. Then she felt something strike her stomach, she couldn't feel pain but she was aware of sensation and pressure. Something had pierced her belly, but what? There shouldn't be anything left alive.
She looked down and saw a sword sticking out of her, not the sword she had given Michael but the sword of righteousness, the only weapon that could kill her. And holding the blade was her champion with something smeared on his face, something she recognized. He had tasted the blood of God as well and escaped her little trap.
She dropped to her knees as her strength left her body. She felt neither anger nor regret, being incapable of either one. She only felt surprised, and perhaps a little admiration for her champion who had surpassed her expectations. He had killed the God and the Devil in a single day.
"It seems you are the one...who tricked me," she said weakly. "Perhaps I was arrogant after all."
"Looks that way," Michael said coldly. "It's Kind of ironic that my hatred and rage would be the things that saved me in the end."
He pulled the sword out and let her fall to the floor as she died. He walked out leavening the two old rivals together forever. It seemed poetic somehow.
He looked upon the tattered remnants of heaven and contemplated what to do next. He had killed God and the Devil and waged war on heaven and earth. Something had happened to Michael back in that chamber after he had killed God. And he was beginning to understand what. He had taken Gods life and with it, his power and knowledge. In affect, he was now God, and he had a lot of work to do.
Michael merely thought it and he found himself back on earth. It was going to take a lot of work, but Michael would remake the world the way it should have been.
He would create a world were a persons appearance reflected their personality, a world where bad things happened to bad people, a world were there would never be some one like him ever again. His last act of spite against his former tormenter would be to do a better job than he ever did. Michael took a deep breath.
"Let there be light!"
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