Goddess Almighty

Chapter 1

It was only when sunlight filtered through your closed blinds did you blink slowly awake, stretching with a yawn that made your jaw pop.

Immediately, you noticed something was wrong.

The atmosphere seemed... different. You felt as heavy as sin, burdened with the weight of a thousand, pain pressing up at the back of your skull as you sat up.

"God," you murmured, only to immediately snap your mouth shut and grit your teeth because Christ, that hurt. Your limbs were sluggish and lethargic, and you couldn't help the creeping sense of panic as you looked around your room, dazed.

Everything looked the same, but felt so different, felt like there was something invisible shimmering on top of everything you owned, creating a buzzing sense of power in the room centered around you.

And then the voices started.

The air punched out your chest and you squirmed on your bed, pressing your forehead into the mattress and your hands to your ears like that would make them stop.

Please, God, give me strength to make it through this difficult time.

Please cure my wife, please. I can't live without her.

Please help my mommy to feel better. I don't like it when she cries.

Why would you do this to me? Why would you say you love me and then do something so terrible?

You're a monster. A kid with a magnifying glass on an anthill. Why don't you care about me?

Please God, please help me. I don't want to love him anymore. Please.

God, do you really not love me? Please give me a sign. I've been a good Christian my entire life. Please don't let things change. I still love you. I promise— I— I'll do whatever it takes.

"Stop!" You groaned, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. "Stop talking to me!"

God, I really need your guidance—

And like that, the voices vanished like a whisper of smoke.

"I-" you said, choking on your own spit. "What was that? What happened?"

There was no answer, so you threw your sheets back and palmed your face, a shuddering sigh wracking your body. "God..."

"I know it's not my name anymore, but I'd still prefer it not taken in vain," a voice said, and you nearly have yourself whiplash trying to locate it.

A figure stood in your room. You couldn't see them very well, what with them silhouetted against your windows, the warm morning light giving them a person shaped halo; the person seemed to smile and barked a laugh, a thin, beautiful thing. "Close your mouth!" They said. "You'll catch flies."

"I—what—who, oh my G— um, I mean, who are you, how'd you get in my room—"

They cut off your stammering with a simple wave. "I am God," they said so solemnly you almost believed it.

Your jaw dropped again. "I can't believe I've gone nuts. I'm barely thirty."

God laughed again, but it was more bitter this time. "No, you're not nuts. I've just endowed you with a fraction of my powers, since you believe you could do such a better job."

You spluttered, "I never said— well, maybe I did, but—" You pointed a finger at Him accusingly, and even though His face was unnaturally dark, now that you think about it, you could tell it twisted in displeasure. "you've been doing a terrible job, picking and choosing who gets to be blessed and who dies of yellow fever at thirteen! Call me arrogant, call me presumptuous, but I really believe I'd do far better than you. If you even are God."

Even in the shadows, His eyes seemed flinty, and pierced into your soul. "You believe you can grant a few prayers and that'll please everyone? What of the people who don't pray, hmm? The children who only cry, the nonbelievers?"

Anger reared its ugly head and you doubled down. "I'm sure I can think of something," you said stubbornly.

"I'm sure you can," God said, and the way His voice was both furious and gentle made dread leech its way into your heart, bleeding across your veins. "I will be back in 7 days."

"O—oh?" Despite it all, you felt like a child again. "Will you ever be back? To check in on me, I mean."

He gave you a soft look. "I will always be with you."

You still felt skeptic, like you were having a conversation with a madman in your bedroom, and still you felt vulnerable, like an animal outside of its shell. "Okay," you replied, because that's all you could think of to say.

"By the way," God said, a shift in His voice making you feel lost. "seven is the magic number."