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God?

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God?

In the span of one’s life, there is a quintessential moment where it must question everything it’s ever conceived as reality. This pulsating moment cripples most, but the few are strengthened by the fall. This strength feeds their primitive dream, to become a god, the absolute top of the self diagnosed food chain.

This power does corrupt fully, but for a moment, their wildest dreams are with them, comforting them like some the smoke of  a fine erb, but power always doesn’t last. Primitive beings like ourselves aren't meant to be god’s, were simply just animals….

It was a crisp November afternoon in the ocean town of Newport. The air reeked of sea salt, and Rhode Island’s prominent greyness was there, lingering in the air, like a virus in diseased blood.

In a small town house there laid Richard. Richard was what seemed like a normal white male. He was about five foot  eight, with crusty black hair, a well trimmed beard, and sickening blue eyes.

He was in house attire, with only a pair of boxers and a large white t shirt on, which had been corrupted by  sweat, making it a pale yellow. Richard had been doing his daily research, which he kept only to himself. This research he had been conducting for at least half a decade.

It had all started when he was twenty four. One day he’d just snapped, and thought the dream of mad men, it being,”how do I become a god?” He’d never thought about it before, but there it was like a fresh wound, bleeding wonder.

Richard was quick to start researching if his dream could be reached, but time after time there was no prevail. He looked into all deity's, evil, good, or torturous. This had all lasted until tonight.

It was about three in the morning, and the whole town had retired for the night, even the town drunkards, that were expected for Newport, but not Richard. Richard had a lust for power, to ascend his fragile nature into the realm of a god. He’d been on his luck today, and around four he’d received his package.

The package held a eye, which was about four hundred years old. It belonged to a man named Màn Sēn who’d been fascinated with the same ascension. The eye wasn’t his though, it’s origins were unknown to man, but according to the dead man’s writings, there was something special about it.

Richard had been studying the eye for all of that night, looking at every gram of matter. It was truly a strange looking eye. It had the shape of a oval, and it’s iris seemed to be a pale shade of yellow. This iris also seemed to lap around the whole eye, like a chain on a wrist.

It was now about four, and Richard was beginning to get frustrated with his observation. There had been no notable gain from his hours of pointless research. He had enough, and his sanity had seen the last of it’s numbered days. Richard got the large kitchen knife, which he’d gotten to open it’s box, and sliced it in half.

At first nothing happened, but as  a couple millisecond passed, the strangest occurrence began to happen.

A black liquid began to ooze from the butchered eye. It left its host at a insane rate, and in seconds the liquid had reached Richard’s mouth.

The liquid began to seep into his skin. He could feel his body getting heavier and heavier, until it began.

Richard’s eyes went black, only for a couple of seconds. His body felt as if he was falling, but that was incomprehensible to the fragile human’s mind. His sight then began to reappear. He couldn’t believe the sight he saw. In milliseconds he had went through all of time and space. He saw it all the beginning, the end, heaven, hell, and the nothingness after.

After what felt like hours, he was suddenly teleported to a white void. He heard a deep, holy voice. Richard looked everywhere for it, but it couldn’t be found, until he looked behind him. There was God.

Richard was overjoyed. Maybe he could bestow upon him his only wish, he thought, but as he looked closer and closer at him he began to notice a strange feature of his. He was looking at himself, as if he was staring into a mirror. Richard fell back. He couldn’t comprehend what ever he was looking at.

Richard then looked into his eyes, and never saw a thing again. He was found dead  three days later. His body had no wounds, no marks. There was only one notable difference. His eye’s iris’ were a pale yellow, and they appeared to wrap around the back.


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