How to Become a God

From his gold throne, Lars sat high and mighty.  It was a personal weakness of his to have something physical to prove his worth.  The enormous, spinning hologram of the globe in front of his throne only added to his desire to bring it under his heel.  However, Lars had something even more important to him at the bottom of his throne.   Like a cat savoring a rat, Lars examined his prize head to toe and savored every moment.  A spy with a given name of Paul was bound like a Christmas package after he was caught trying to report to his superiors.  His tenacity was impressive as he had resisted every attempt to collect information.  He was useless for interrogation and fit only for the tiger pit, but Lars saw an wonderful opportunity.

"Isn't it a lovely day?" Lars said with a grin.

Paul spat blood in response.  He was shaken by what he had seen.  He had only seen the results of Lars' weapon: thousands of victims of madness, bodily failure, and so much death.  All the missing civilians he was looking for were here, and he was too late.  The world would surely fall if Lars was allowed to continue his madman schemes, so Paul remained silent and thought about possible avenues of escape.

"There are none." Lars interjected.

Paul's eyes widened in surprise and looked up at the throne.  Eager to begin, Lars sat there smiling and asked, "Do you know what make gods powerful?"

In an instant, Paul was swept off his feet away from the stone throne room.  Instead, Paul could feel the fresh scent of tall grass tickling his hands and legs.  He could see the bright blue sky with clouds trailing off into the distance, the flowing creek water that was teeming with life.  The scent of wild flowers were in the air, adding a bit of sweetness to the crisp atmosphere.  Nearby, he heard a friendly voice calling him from a distant cabin. 

Then, Paul was plunged deep into the ocean.  The cold, crushing sensation enveloped all his senses as he gasped in complete surprise.  He saw the his precious breath escape from him in little bubbles and tried desperately to grab them as they left him for the surface.  The shimmering window of air grew smaller and smaller as chains around his ankles pulled him down into the abyss.  The burning sensation in his lungs raged like a fire, and his vision grew hazy as the deep dark took him.

Suddenly, Paul woke up in his bed with a small hand hitting his face.  A little voice whined, "Daddy wake up.  I'm hungry."  Catherine was such a handful as Paul tended to many her needs everyday but he loved her regardless.  She was his pride and joy.  He watched her grow up and take an interest in the arts.  As a teenager, She made beautiful paintings of the world and worked tirelessly with a passion and a smile.  After years of labor, there was an art convention featuring her work, and he could see that she had grown up.  She went on to be a spokeswoman for art and was clearly no longer the little baby he took care of so long ago.  She made him proud. 

A strong voice rattled his mind, "It is your belief in them." and everything shattered.  Paul was not in a field, the ocean, or at his daughter's speech.  He was back in a cruel nightmare with a deranged monster.  The dream had been broken, and so was the man.

"I can make a world.  Just like that."  Lars added with a snap of his fingers.

"My baby girl!" Paul cried out.

"Yes, I believe I made the perfect little one for you.  What was her name again?"

"Catherine!  Catherine!  Where is she?  What have you done to my beautiful baby girl?" Paul demanded between sobs.

Lars turned away from the crying mess at the bottom of his throne.  The device had functioned properly, and he could now manipulate the five senses and memory itself.  The world would bow before their new god.  They may rest in their peaceful illusions or suffer in endless nightmares.  The only thing they would need to do is decide whether to obey his command.  The most delightful tidbit for Lars is that the device is built into his golden throne.

"Bring her back!" Paul begged repeatedly.

Lars could not bear to hear the sound of crying or the thought of tears and mucus dirtying his nice clean floor, so he turned to Paul and gave him a thumbs-up.  Then, he extended his index finger and jolted his hand up.  What Paul saw a gun and a muzzle flash.  A wet, red patch appeared in his chest, and he collapsed.  Lars looked at the undamaged, now-lifeless agent and laughed.  It was all he could have dreamed for.  After basking in his soon-to-be victory, Lars leaned into the speaker on his chair and said, "Diana, could you move all other operations to this afternoon?  I have an announcement to the world."