The Second Resurection

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Thia's POV

It was nearly indescribable. The pain of it all. I could feel every wrong doing and every injustice. It slammed me from all sides like I was the real victim. The one who got shot four times, the other that drowned, one who hung themselves, a person trapped inside a burning building set on fire by a 'friend'.

I would have wretched if I could have. There was a burning in my lungs like they were stuffed with cotton balls soaked with alcohol and lit on fire. My stomach seemed to have been put through a meat grinder as my insides twisted into knots. They were being torn apart, put back together, and torn again.

My brain seemed to be pressing painfully into my skull like a bat had slammed one side in forcing everything towards the other. I screamed because it was all I could do. Scream into whatever dark abyss my soul had entered.

There was never a reprieve. Centuries worth of sin was thrust upon my shoulders to hold, to experience, and to somehow forgive the criminal of their injustice. Images flickered on the back of my eyelids. Faces belonging to people I didn't know at all.

The betrayal of friends stomping on my heart as if I knew them. The grief of a man who'd killed a family driving while drunk. The lives of every criminal in prison flickering like a rapid fire cinema in my head.

It lasted for an eternity because that was how long it had gone on for. There were times I grew used to the pain, where it didn't seem so bad, but some horrendous act would surprise me. It would make me hurt in ways I didn't know were physically possible.

Only while there were common things; there were equally horrifying things. Things such as war, World War Two and the concentration camps, nuclear bombs, chemical warfare, things of mass destruction. Then there were things like serial killers.

The torturing of victims and the kidnapping of people for some twisted mind to have fun with. I didn't quite know what real terror was until I saw these things. Until I saw child predators, abusers, kidnappers, horrifying people who manipulated the black market, government schemes, experiments, and everything that you could think of magnified to an extreme.

Then it stopped. I braced for more and held my breath. I could feel every atom of my being shaking in pain and fear. Nothing came. Still, I didn't let my guard down. I couldn't.

"Child." The voice belonged to a male.  A voice I hadn't heard before. It wasn't Order and it wasn't Chaos. It was fatherly, comforting. "Shhh do not weep little one."

Though the words were comforting I couldn't help but cry. So this was what Chaos had meant? There really was so much pain and ugliness in the world. Still, I had to remind myself of other things, things like flowers or the stars. Wonderful things, because if I didn't I was going to give in, and if I did I would die in every regard.

"Forgive them. They do not know what they have done."

Despite calming myself so that I no longer shivered in anticipation, I couldn't see. There was only darkness, raw and empty. Numbing and scary. Anything could hide in the dark.

"Who are you?" My voice was weak. My throat was raw from crying out and pleading for relief.

"I am God."

The answer made me want to laugh. "So the Christians were right. You're the God of gods."

There was a warm, gentle, and patient laugh that echoed through the space. "They are. But so are those from the Jewish lands, and those from Muslim origins, and more. Those who believe that I exist no matter the name are correct, those who believe that despite my rage I weep for my children. I am found in many corners of the earth and by many names but I am most simply known as God."

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