To Be God - MIRAI SMP ORIGINAL REWRITE

Chapter three

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 him when he blinks awake. The first thought that comes to mind is he's dead. It was the noodles. The noodles gave him food poisoning and he died. Admittedly, he never thought he'd die this soon, let alone by something so stupid. But at least it was quick and painless. At least it was food that took him out and not Italian mafia bosses.

But the longer he stays lying limp on the floor in the blackness, the less sense his theory makes. 2 minute noodles can't kill you. He's definitely dead, but it probably wasn't the noodles.

Time ticks. He can hear his heart beat within the stillness of his chest. A minute has passed by now. And he hasn't moved a single muscle. What's going to happen to him? Is he going to be lying dead in the darkness for the rest of eternity? The idea of that makes his heart thud faster in his ribcage. While a part of him drowns in the existential terror of this thought, the other part of him is pressing for him to do something. To get up. To walk. Anything that will make him feel slightly less dead than he already is.

So he staggers up until he's standing on both feet. Maybe he's not even in the darkness. Maybe he's actually just in his bedroom, and his eyes will adjust to his environment. Gaze wandering, he blinks again, rubbing his eyes to try to get his vision to settle through the dark. But after the tenth blink his surroundings still remain the same — everything engulfed entirely in void; any source of possible light in the space swallowed by the shadows.

Alec puts a foot forward. Shoes smack the floor; the surface is solid and smooth, like he's standing on marble tiles, but there's no sound. He stomps his foot down harder. Silence. Like his feet are on mute.

A shudder slithers down his spine upon realizing. He's not only dead, but he's dead in complete, total, silent darkness.

He does the only thing he can do. He runs. Thrusting his legs forward he sprints into the nothingness; feet flying over the black tiles in a blur. He runs until his heart burns and every muscle in his body runs warm. A silly part of him holds onto the hope that maybe if he runs far enough he could find a light. Or better — an escape.

A strange, very vague feeling stops him in his tracks. A prickling sense over his skin — like a shadowy presence is lingering over him. Just as he whips around, there's a flicker of luminescence. Rays of blinding light cast down over his body from above as if he were standing underneath a spotlight on stage.

He yells out, frantically sheltering his eyes with his hands. The sudden rumble of a deep voice thunders, freezing him still.

"Hello, Alec Satchwell." The call almost makes him jump out of his skin. It's difficult to tell whether the voice is an echo in his head or a yell in this void. Slowly, he moves his hands away from his eyes and drops them to his sides.

Something tightens in his ribcage, forcing him to swallow his ever-gnawing dread. What's going on? Who is speaking to him? What's happening? His head spins with a million questions, but he decides to ask the most obvious.

Calling out to the skies, he speaks back, "who are you?"

"Who else?" booms the voice again. "I am Lord God."

Lord God? Lord God? Is this what that email was about? He almost wants to laugh. This is just ridiculous. It's crazy. He's been atheist for as long as he can remember, and now today just all of a sudden in a couple of hours he gets his existence questioned by a service station employee, an anonymous email contending his lack of faith, and now he's talking to God himself?

The idea of it all is ludicrous to its extremes. But even though his head tells him to laugh in the face of this God, he just simply can't. An eerie sensation much more powerful than his disbelief steals over him — total fear. An unexplainable chill pierces his skin, and for a moment he has to consider. If, in a slim off-chance, that what is happening is real, and this is God he's speaking to ... then what plausible reason would he have of bringing him here?