1. Prologue

Title on Screen: “Understanding Our Gods”

Second Title Appears: “On the Subject of Worship”

Disclaimer: First aired 2 months ago.

Narrator (Voice-Over): “In this segment of our ten-part documentary on the new gods, we delve into the enigmatic concept of worship. We join Professor Stanley; once an ostracized professional within the Theological community, since the ascension of the new gods, scientists and theologians now consider his, once outlandish, theories and books as the greatest source of understanding the gods and the universe. He is now a renowned and respected expert on divine phenomena. We join him in his office for an insightful discussion.”

Scene: Professor Stanley’s cluttered office, walls lined with books and artifacts related to the gods.

Interviewer: “Professor Stanley, thank you for joining us. Today, we’re exploring a crucial aspect of our new gods: their need for worship. Could you shed some light on this?”

Professor Stanley: “Thank you for having me. Worship, you say?” (He kicks up his feet on his desk and leans back in his chair.) “Ah, I love talking worship. Nothing has changed the world so much—changed everyone’s daily life so much—than the concept of worship. I mean, sure, there are visible gods walking among us and that’s shaken everyone to the core. But everyday now, each one of us prays to a god of our choosing. Who do you worship, by the way?”

Interviewer: “Oh, to remain impartial in this documentary, I’d rather not say. I’m sure you would like to remain impartial and not say—”

Professor Stanley: “Goddess Hailee, all the way. Y’know, she was a student of mine?”

Interviewer: “We … we know, Professor. You’ve stated that many times already.”

Professor Stanley: “I have?”

Interviewer: “So, why is worship so important to these gods?”

Professor Stanley: “Well, imagine suddenly finding out you’re a god. It’s not all about throwing thunderbolts or walking on clouds. It’s more like being the greatest rockstar ever to exist at a concert, and having the crowds go wild for who you are. Worship, in this context, is the applause, the cheers, the standing ovation they crave.”

Interviewer: “It sounds quite emotional.”

Professor Stanley: “Sure is. These gods they might be celestial beings now, but they still have their human origins. Worship to them is like water to a parched throat. It’s affirming, reassuring. Without it, they’d feel like that great rockstar, but at an empty concert that no one attended—standing tall, but terribly alone.”

Interviewer: “Is it fair to say, then, that worship is a source of power for them?”

Professor Stanley: “Eh … no.” (He removes his feet from his desk and leans forward.) “Hailee and I’ve worked a lot together. Y’know, trying to understand more of her godhood. And I’m ninety percent sure that worship does not equal power. From what we gathered through experiments, worship is like the bond between gods and mortals, the very thread that connects their divinity with our humanity.”

Interviewer: “But why do they feel this need so deeply?”

Professor Stanley: “Well, think of it like this—ever had a birthday where no one remembered? It’s that feeling of being forgotten, multiplied by a cosmic scale. They’ve ascended to these great heights, yet what good is it if there’s no one to acknowledge it? No one to share it with?”

Interviewer: “So, worship is their way of staying connected with humans?”

Professor Stanley: “Part of it, yes. It’s not just about being revered; it’s about feeling seen, feeling linked to the world they once walked as mortals. Worship is the proof that they matter, not just as gods, but as former humans who walked among us.”

Interviewer: “That’s a unique way to put it, Professor. It seems worship is more than just a ritual; it’s a lifeline.”

Professor Stanley: “Exactly! And without it, well, they might as well be shouting into the void. Worship is what keeps them tethered, not just to their powers, but to us, to life itself. You see, power can be cold, impersonal. But worship? That’s warm, it’s personal.”

Interviewer: “And if they don’t get their worship?”

Professor Stanley: “Every god treats non-believers differently, as it affects them differently. Some, more so than others.”

Narrator (Voice-Over): “A compelling insight from Professor Stanley, reminding us that even gods seek connection. Stay with us as we continue to explore the divine intricacies in ‘Understanding the New Gods.’”

Title on Screen: “Understanding Our Gods - A Documentary Series”

2. Dinner Party

“Ugh. Let’s try this again.”

Nine tourists, each hailing from different walks of life, enjoying a New York adventure, made their way to the Brooklyn Bridge where their camera clicked away as they photographed the brick and steel structure during sunset. Without warning, their reality shifted abruptly when Melissa transported them to an entirely different world. Suddenly, they were no longer the observers, but the observed—shrunken to a mere half-inch tall. They scurried across a vast expanse of bed, which now seemed like an endless white desert. Under their feet were pristine Egyptian white-cotton sheets, threads though magnified, still soft under their tiny forms.

At the onset, it didn’t seem like these nine unique individuals shared any commonality; however, they all shared a silent bond—each one was a skeptic of the new gods. They were unconvinced by that Melissa and her crew were the gods they claimed to be. Now, ironically, Melissa upended their lives through divine intervention.

Melissa perched herself on the edge of her bed, one leg elegantly extended atop the mattress, while the other dangled over the side, her bare foot firmly grounded on the floor. She wore a simple yet charming black dress with a floral pattern on it; the fabric draped gracefully over her form, her smooth legs laid bare and her cleavage popping out.

“My little darlings.” Goddess Melissa’s voice was like rolling thunder. It rattled their bodies as they ran from her titanic body. “You know it hurts me so much when you refuse to believe I’m god. All I’m asking—is for you to believe I’m god and to devote your souls to me willingly. Because if you don’t, I’ll be forced to take it myself here and now. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. Please, I’m giving you one last chance.”

Her leg on her bed created a barrier to the tiny non-believers, and her fingers toyed with them, herding them to the center of the bed. The tiny mortals ran with all their might, trying to navigate the luxurious sheets. Her leg and foot in the distance looked like a mountain range. Her fingers deftly and swiftly came down from above like unpredictable tornados emerging from the heavens. The miniature people could not stop and rest as her fingers kept them dashing around her bed alongside her legs. She was like a cat playing with her prey.

“I have a special dinner soon. And I won’t be able to enjoy my meal, y mi familia, if I have so many non-believers walking in my neighborhood. Worship me. Devote your souls to me, and I will forgive you and love you—unconditionally. You will return back where you came from, and will be free to enjoy your lives. I’ve given you plenty of chances. Make your last choice, now.”

Her last words were enough for three tourists to stop running and drop to their knees. Melissa convinced them successfully, and they were sure she was a goddess and not some maligned freak with powers. Right on her bed, in her presence, they prayed and devoted their souls to the goddess for all of eternity. They instantly vanished and returned to the Brooklyn Bridge, unhurt physically, but a little wiser about challenging the new gods. There, on the bridge, they bowed their heads and silently thanked Melissa for their second chance in life.

The other stubborn tourists had their reasons not to believe Melissa was a god. Be it a strong conviction for the old-world religions, the thought that Melissa and the others were actually Satan testing humanity, or that they were something like superheroes with egos so inflated they thought they were literal gods. Whatever their reasoning, they flat out refused to believe Melissa, or the others, were gods.

But their non-beliefs in the new gods weren’t benign. To Melissa and the other gods, a non-believer’s presence was like having an un-scratchable itch, a sneeze that would never come, or an eye twitch that would never cease. A malaise so annoying, it was the only thing on the minds of a god. And unless they dealt with the non-believers, it would never go away. This was especially true for Melissa compared to all the gods. She simply could not—would not tolerate non-believers in her over-arching proximity. But as compassionate as she was, she always gave them a chance to repent; sometimes multiple chances. Though the conversion rate from non-belief to belief was extremely slim—there was always that chance. Three out of nine was impressive for her latest batch.

Melissa plucked a woman from the crowd between her massive digits and flicked her into her mouth. “Mmm.” She toyed with her flailing body. The tip of her tongue pressed the woman against the roof of her mouth and ran her against the ridges there, causing the woman to wail in pain. Melissa swallowed her while she plucked two more. She daintily placed them on her tongue as if they were a decadent piece of chocolate. Melissa continued to moan as a burst of exquisite flavors came rushing out with their fears and anguish. One mortal slipped under her tongue, while the other rubbed against her taste buds. Her mouth flooded with saliva. She swished them around her mouth one last time and swallowed them with her saliva.

Suddenly, there was a knock on her bedroom door. “Honey?” Alejandro asked. He was about to twist open the doorknob when Melissa looked over, squinted her eyes, and telepathically locked the bedroom door. “Almost ready? Because Carlos says Vanessa is almost here.” He felt the locked door and resorted to simply speaking through the closed bedroom door.

“Almost done.” Melissa scooped the last three non-believers into her hand. “I’ll be right out. Need any help?”

“I got it, honey. Dinner’s almost done.”

“Sounds good.”

Alejandro walked away, his steps fading down the hallway. Melissa rose to her towering eight-foot tall stature and padded to the bathroom. After dipping her head in the doorframe, she dropped the last three non-believers on her bathroom counter as she looked herself over in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair and noticed one of the tiny mortals on his hands and knees.

“You know,” she said, “as god, I can tell if your worship is genuine or not. Trying to humor me with fake praise is more insulting than not accepting me as god.”

Melissa grabbed the man and tossed him in her mouth like popcorn. He landed in the back of her throat and tumbled underneath her giant uvula as he slipped down her throat; she swallowed. His puny form was barely a lump showing through her slender neck. Finished with her hair, Melissa adjusted the top of her dress and squeezed her breasts together to center her cleavage in the plunging neckline of her dress. Satisfied with her divine appearance, Melissa grabbed the last two non-believers from the counter and popped them in her mouth.

-

Melissa exited the bedroom, her head diving under the doorframe as she entered the hallway of their two-story apartment. She headed for the stairs and as she walked by her son’s room, she could hear him still getting ready for dinner. Melissa sensed Vanessa was exiting the elevator and only several paces away from the apartment’s front door. Goddess Melissa glided down the stairs, swallowed the two screaming non-believers in her mouth, and opened the front door before Vanessa could knock.

The goddess looked down at the tiny young woman with a cherishing smile and stood silently while she clasped her hands together in front of her hips. In that moment, the two non-believers landed in her stomach and wailed in pain as her divine stomach acid melted their bodies over the next excruciating minute.

Goddess Melissa’s presence never ceased to amaze Vanessa. Even putting Melissa’s beauty and stature aside, she had a divine quality that was hard to pinpoint. Like a glow or aura that followed her, making her sharply different from mortals. Her mind blanked as she stood star struck by the goddess. She stood still, taking in the goddess’s inviting smile and presence, allowing her soul to bond with the deity before her.

Melissa gave her a subtle, encouraging nod.

It was enough to break Vanessa’s trance. Protocols with deities came rushing back to Vanessa. In an instant, she dropped to the floor, bowed her head, and recited  Melissa’s prayer. Melissa took a deep breath as she absorbed the worship.

“Vanessa, thank you for coming,” Melissa said. “Levántate and give me a hug, honey.”

Vanessa obeyed Melissa and wrapped her arms around the eight-foot tall goddess. Her eyes were level with Melissa’s navel, prompting Melissa to bend significantly as if she were hugging a child. Melissa’s embrace felt loving and welcoming; Vanessa felt her legs grow weak and almost hoped that Melissa would lift her up so she could take a nap in her arms. The sound of Carlos running down the stairs and up behind Melissa broke Vanessa’s fixation on the goddess.

“What’s going on?” Carlos asked.

Melissa let go of Vanessa and turned to face her son. Vanessa adjusted the strap to her purse on her shoulder and hooked her hair behind her ear.

“Mom?” Carlos asked. “Don’t tell me you made Vanessa pray to you.”

“Carlito, what’s with that tone?”

“Did you seriously make her pray to you just now? Come on, mom. Vanessa is my girlfriend and your guest.”

“I didn’t make her, she chose to worship me.” Melissa turned and looked down at Vanessa and asked, “isn’t that right?”

“It’s okay, Carlos,” Vanessa said. “I like worshiping your mom.”

“Vanessa, please never say that again. And, Mom, please, my girlfriend doesn’t have to pray to you every time she visits. She should be free to come and go, without having to kiss the floor at your—why aren’t you wearing any shoes?”

Melissa placed one hand on her hip and scratched her head with the other. “M’hijo, why are you so upset? What did I do?”

Carlos ignored his tall mom and walked around her to join Vanessa. He grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and pulled her into the apartment after slamming the front door. He dragged Vanessa to the living room while she nervously looked up at Melissa behind her.

“Come on, Vanessa,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”

They sat on the couch together. Vanessa felt tensions rise as Melissa followed and sat on the couch opposite of them. Her large posterior sitting across two couch cushions. Melissa crossed her legs, her barefoot with black painted nails visible to the couple. She used her hand to iron out the creases in her dress. Vanessa, feeling the eyes of both Carlos and Melissa on her, nervously took off her purse and jacket, setting it to her side on the couch.

“Thank you for coming, Vanessa,” Melissa said. “I’ve been looking forward to having you over.”

Vanessa was about to speak, but Carlos interrupted.

“Are you making dinner, mom?”

“Your dad is.”

“Dad’s cooking? You’re making dad cook?”

“I’m not making him cook. He wanted to cook.”

“But you’re a god. Can’t you just blink us some Michelin-star food instead of making dad slave in the kitchen?”

“M’hijo, your dad has been looking forward to cooking this meal. I won’t take that away from him.”

Carlos sat with his arms crossed, looking straight ahead and avoiding eye-contact with his mother. Vanessa’s eyes shifted from mother to son, surprised that Carlos could talk to his mother like that and not get turned into a pillar of salt.

“So, Vanessa,” Melissa said, “how long have you been dating my son?”

“Aaand here come the twenty questions.” Carlos said.

“M’hijo, is there anything I can do or say that won’t upset you?”

Carlos got up to his feet. “Yeah. You can start by changing your clothes. You’re my mom, and you’re showing way too much skin. Second, dad’s been cooking in the kitchen all day. You haven’t helped him with anything. Not even setting up the table. Third, come clean about this dinner, mom. Admit you just want to use this to interrogate Vanessa. To see if she’s worthy of dating god’s son.”

Melissa rose to her feet to match her son, though she loomed over him and everything in the living room. Vanessa sunk deeper into the couch and trembled at the sight of Melissa’s annoyed expression. The lights flickered on and off in the apartment as Melissa took a deep breath.

“I’ve had this dress since before I was a god, m’hijo. I used to wear it when your dad’s parents invited us over to dinner.” Melissa brushed the dress with her hands and returned to her seat on the couch. “It still fits after all these years. I wore this dress tonight, because of what it symbolizes to me. I think it’s cute watching Vanessa coming to dinner to meet the parents—the same way I did with your dad. That is all. Please, m’hijito, I just want to have a peaceful dinner as a family. Your dad loves to host and cook and I wanted to meet the new woman in my son’s life. That’s it.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just get this stupid dinner over with.”

Vanessa tugged on Carlos’s arm and said, “Please don’t talk back to your mother; it’s disrespectful. And it hurts me hearing you talk like that.”

Carlos looked at his mother and squinted his eyes. “Mom, did you make her say that?”

Melissa lifted her arms and gave him an expression like, what did I do?

“She didn’t, Carlos,” Vanessa said. And then in a whisper she said, “Please say sorry to your mom.”

Carlos shook his head and grunted. Without saying a word, he headed to the kitchen in a huff. That left Melissa alone with Vanessa. Melissa’s cool attitude and tender smile she gave Vanessa, shocked her. The goddess remained seated with her legs crossed and her hands folded neatly on her knees. How could the most powerful, important being in the universe be so calm after that episode with her son?

“Goddess?”

“Yes, Vanessa?”

“I was wondering …” Vanessa rubbed her hands together as she fidgeted on the couch. “I can’t explain it. But I really want to get on the floor and worship you.”

“Oh, honey.” Melissa’s smile never faded. She looked over her shoulders and towards the kitchen before looking down at Vanessa. “I would love that, but if Carlos saw you—he’d blame me for making you worship me.”

Vanessa nodded silently and her eyes shifted down to the bottom corner.

In a whisper, Melissa said, “Oh, honey, I can tell you really want to. How can I deny a mortal a chance to pray to their god? Okay, quickly, before anyone sees. Crawl on the floor here. In front of my feet. That’s it. Okay, good. You may worship me.” Melissa leaned back on the couch. She grabbed a glass of red wine floating in the air next to her and drank, as she felt Vanessa’s intoxicating devotion envelop her.

-

Carlos burst into the kitchen as his dad was pulling out the roast chicken from the oven. He wore an apron and had oven mitts on. His tablet played music while he zipped around the kitchen, preparing each dish.

“Dad, what did mom tell you about this dinner?”

“Hello to you too, m’hijo.”

“Come on, dad. What’s mom up to?”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just having dinner together. Finally. As a familia.”

“That’s right! We never have family dinners together, but now she conveniently has time for her family? It’s because my girlfriend is here. That’s the only reason she’s here.”

“I guess your girlfriend should come around more, huh?” Alejandro pulled out two chickens out of the roasting pan and placed them on a plate to rest. He then checked on the Spanish rice and corn he was boiling. An emergency notification popped on his tablet. Once he was temporarily free of cooking, he checked the message. “Oh, boy. Look at that.”

“Something wrong?” Carlos asked, growing concerned as his dad looked at his tablet despondently.

“Looks like Alex and Brad. Los Angeles this time.”

“Los Angeles? What is it?”

“It’s a city in California, but that’s not important right now. Looks like Alex and Brad made a little mess downtown. Promise me you won’t google it later. These pictures are a little graphic.”

“Goddamn … gods.” Carlos shook his head. “Will mom ever do anything about those two?”

“I’ll talk to her about it. Do everyone a favor and don’t bring them up at dinner, okay?”

-

The only sounds coming from the dinner table were the clinking and clattering of cutlery on plates. The absence of conversation spoke to the tension hanging heavily in the air. Melissa, still eight-feet tall, sat at one end of the table. Alejandro sat across from her. Carlos to her left and Vanessa to her right. The table was decorated with a white cloth, candles, and two small vases with flowers from the Netherlands.

Melissa had a large serving plate in front of her. She had one of the roasted chickens—the whole chicken on her plate, surrounded by rice and two ears of corn and several slices of toast. Already forgetting about the non-believers she ate earlier, her new meal piled on top of their tiny remains in her stomach.

“This is great, sir,” Vanessa said to Alejandro.

“Delicious as always, honey.” Melissa used a ladle to scoop a generous amount of rice into her mouth.

Carlos played with his food and didn’t look up to either of his parents.

Melissa drank from a liter-sized wine glass, making it look tiny in her hands, and washed down her dinner with the red liquid. “Vanessa, I sense you have some burning questions for me.”

Vanessa set her fork down and patted her lips with her white napkin. “Umm, yeah. if it’s okay.”

“What are they, honey? Don’t be shy.”

“Just wondering about—the afterlife?”

“What about it?”

“Is there a hell?”

“Yup.” Melissa bit into a drumstick and ripped the meat off with her pristine teeth. “Four of ‘em, actually.”

“Four?”

“Hmm. Yeah. Each god has a heaven and hell realm they rule over. My heaven is primo heaven.” Melissa made an okay gesture with her fingers. “Fluffy clouds, beautiful landscapes. Everyone lives in their dream homes and spends time on their favorite hobbies. Babe,” she said to Alejandro, “I have a special mansion saved for you on top of a mountain overseeing a waterfall and jungle. It is breathtaking.”

“Well, I can’t wait to die.” Alejandro smirked.

“What’s hell like?” Vanessa asked with deep concern.

“Oh, honey, don’t worry about it. You’re not going to hell. My standards are pretty low for heaven. At least if you compare me to all those wacky mythical gods humans made up.” She lifted a finger with every point she made. “One, be a devout worshiper to me. Two, live a just life on earth. That means no murdering, no violent crimes, don’t make life harder for others. You know, common sense stuff.”

“Devote worshiper?”

“Absolutely. I don’t care how ‘good’ of a person you think you are, if you don’t worship me or the other gods—straight to hell you go.”

Carlos spoke up and said, “You guys are pretty full of yourselves, huh?”

“We are gods, m’hijo. Us creating and running the afterlife doesn’t mean we’re full of ourselves, it just means we serve a role that can be difficult for humans to comprehend.”

“But why do people have to worship you, huh?” Carlos asked. “You’re willing to send a good person to hell, just ‘cause they don’t pray to you? Sounds pretty fucking narcissistic to me.”

“Watch your language, Carlos,” Alejandro said, his dad-voice making Vanessa bounce in her seat. “Do not speak to your mother that way.”

“How can you defend her, dad? She sends people to hell just ‘cause they don’t worship her? How mentally insane is that? How do you let your fucking powers get to your head and—”

Carlos vanished from the dinner table mid-sentence. Alejandro and Vanessa’s neck snapped towards Melissa. The goddess appeared calm and content. She grabbed a bottle of her favorite Costco wine and poured it into her oversized wine glass, but the bottle was empty. With that, she grabbed the pitcher of water and poured it into her glass, the liquid transforming to wine as she did so.

“Honey, you’ve outdone yourself with dinner. It was so good.” Melissa left nothing but bones on her plate. She let out a burp she tried to conceal in her napkin.

“What did you do with Carlos?” Alejandro asked.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s safe. He’s obviously upset about something and has been taking it out on me all night. Once he’s cooled off, I’ll bring him back.”

“But honey, what did you do with him?”

Melissa shot her husband an icy stare.

“Sorry, honey,” Alejandro said as he drank from his own glass of wine.

“Honey, can you go wait in the kitchen? I want to speak to Vanessa in private.”

Alejandro nodded in agreement. Before excusing himself, he grabbed Carlos’s unfinished plate and his own. He took the dishes to the kitchen, letting the swinging kitchen door close behind him. Vanessa couldn’t look up at Melissa. There was something so uneasy about Melissa’s calm demeanor that it made Vanessa squirm in her seat.

“Spill it,” Melissa said.

“Excuse me, goddess?”

Melissa cocked her head and looked down at the petrified girl. She leaned over and placed her enormous hand on top of hers. Melissa’s thumb gently stroked her tiny fingers. Vanessa looked up into Melissa’s probing eyes and felt naked under her gaze.

“No need to be afraid, honey,” Melissa said. “I’m still waiting for you to ask that burning question you have.”

No matter how soothing the goddess’s voice was, no matter how comforting her words, Melissa’s presence terrified Vanessa. The goddess had the power to smite her, claim her soul, and choose a myriad of ways to torture her for all eternity. How could that not be terrifying to everyone?

“My parents.” There was a long pause as Vanessa’s bottom lips quivered.

“Go on.”

“They’re non-believers.”

Melissa pulled her hand back and sat back in her chair. She grabbed her wineglass and downed the rest. “That’s a shame.”

“I was wondering, Goddess Melissa, if they’re destined to hell because of their beliefs?”

“You already know the answer to that.” Melissa sipped on her wine.

“Yes, but—”

“But what? They either devote themselves to a god or they’re damned for eternity.” Melissa saw Vanessa wince and tear up. “Honey, I don’t mean to sound so harsh, but that’s the honest truth.”

“Is there anything I can do? Can you make an exception for them? Just this one time?”

“No exceptions. And all you can do is try to convince them before it’s too late.”

“Too late? Please, Goddess? I beg you!” Vanessa pushed her seat back and dove to the floor. She crawled on her hands and knees over to Melissa’s feet under the table. “Please, Goddess, please! Don’t send my parents to hell.”

Melissa allowed the young woman to kiss and grovel at her feet for several moments as she enjoyed her wine. “Vanessa, get up.”

Though Vanessa stood up, and Melissa was still in her seat, Melissa still towered over her.

“It’s my turn to ask you a burning question. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Goddess.”

“Why are you dating my son?”

Vanessa’s eyes snapped shut, her face had an expression of someone caught red-handed. Her knees gave way, trembling under the weight of her nervousness. As she twisted at the hips, attempting to turn away from the goddess, Melissa grasped her hands and anchored her in place. Caught up in the moment, Vanessa’s breath hitched, causing her to gasp awkwardly.

“Vanessa, Vanessa, I think I already know the answer. I hope I’m wrong, but I know I’m not. Please come clean with me. Why are you dating my son?”

Vanessa’s lips moved, but no words came out.

“Because his mother is a goddess, right? You’re dating him because of who he is, in relation to me.”

Vanessa nodded.

“And you thought if you got close to him, you’d get close to me? Which is true. You got pretty close to me.” Melissa pulled Vanessa delicately close to her for emphasis. “You thought, maybe if I liked you, I’d make an exception for your parents? Is that how you planned things in your head?”

Vanessa nodded. Streams of tears traced down both cheeks.

“You might think I’m in your head, honey; crawling in your mind and using my powers to know what you’re going to say before you say it. But I’m not. I don’t use my powers to read other people’s minds. So, I need you to talk right now. Come clean with me. Do you even want to be my son’s girlfriend?”

“No.” Vanessa’s admittance felt like a heavy weight off her shoulder. To finally admit something she’s been holding back all these months. “I like him as a friend. Just not that way.”

“You slept with my boy, though, right?”

“Yes.”

“That means you slept with someone you don’t like, so that you can come close to me—close to me, just to ask if I can permit your non-believing parents a pardon. My number one law. A law I’ve never left go unpunished.” Lightning struck outside. “And what did this cost, Vanessa? Was betraying my son worth it?” Melissa’s eyes glowed white with anger. The audacity of this mortal. The incredible favors she was asking after betraying her sweet little boy. Vanessa was only a snap-of-the-fingers away from disintegrating into nothingness.

“Please, Goddess Melissa, don’t kill me.”

Melissa, still gripping Vanessa’s hands, gave her another tug so that the girl could face her. “Look at me.” Tears flooded Vanessa’s eyes, blurring her vision. “Think about the position you placed me in, Vanessa. He hates that I’m a god. I’m always getting blamed for every little thing that goes wrong in his life. And when he finds out about you, and how you used him—he’ll probably never talk to me again!” Melissa released her grip from Vanessa.

The young woman dropped to the floor and resumed praying at Melissa’s feet. She kissed her toes as she asked for forgiveness.

“What do you even expect me to do, Vanessa?”

“Please don’t smite me.”

“Well, first things first, you’re going to tell my son the truth. Ugh, I won’t hear the end of this. Second, I’m going to meet your parents. I would love to shake hands with the people that raised a manipulative daughter.”

“You won’t kill them, will you?”

“They’re non-believers, honey. Of course I will.”

“Please, Goddess, please, please! I’ll do anything! Please spare them. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done. I’m sorry they don’t believe. But. But. But you’re the benevolent goddess, right? You can forgive them. You can forgive me!”

“Ugh, you had to pull that ‘benevolent goddess’ card, didn’t you?”

Melissa leaned back in her seat and drank her wine. She splayed out her toes and motioned for Vanessa to continue kissing and worshiping. Despite her heavy meal, her stomach was empty, and she was looking forward to consuming Vanessa’s parents as dessert, but what Vanessa said was really bothering her. Melissa did a lot for the world. She reduced crime in New York; she helped the needy, cured blindness, and removed diseases. All she asked for in return was devout worship and  commitment of one’s soul for eternity. Was that too much?

“I cannot allow your parents to continue living as non-believers,” Melissa said. “They have to decide themselves to repent. As for you, you betrayed my son. Slept with him and pretended to be his girlfriend just to ask me a favor. On top of all this, you want me to be benevolent.”

“Please, Goddess Melissa.” Vanessa quaked uncontrollably on the floor before the goddess’s feet.

Melissa grappled with her options in her mind. Could she show leniency? Show compassion? But what message would that send to the world? Betrayal of her family is ‘okay’ because she’ll just forgive them in the end? There were so many other sins Melissa could turn the other cheek on. But non-belief? She never forgave that sin, and she wouldn’t start with Vanessa’s parents. Especially after using her son like that.

Melissa used her toe to lift Vanessa’s chin. “Here’s what I’ll do. I give everyone a chance, but I’ll give your parents something I’ve never given before. 24 hours to start worshiping a god, preferably me, or I’ll end their lives and doom them to hell forever. I’ve never—ever—given anyone that kind of leniency before. As for you, you will tell my son the truth about how you used him. I hope you understand how great of a deal this is for you, Vanessa. Now tell me, what are your plans after graduation?”

“Thank you. Goddess, thank you so much! I … I’m going to university. I got accepted to—”

“Oh, honey. You won’t be going anywhere.” Melissa had an expression that was a mix of faux anguish and playful teasing.

“Huh?”

“You’re going to be my personal servant for the rest of your life. Does that sound good? I mean, you said you’ll do anything for your parents, right?” Melissa asked with puppy dog eyes.

Vanessa stopped crying and looked up at the goddess in disbelief.

“Like you said, I’m benevolent, right? So, I’ll give you 24 hours with your parents. Try to convince them to worship me. Regardless of the outcome, I’ll come to collect you. That sounds fair, right? After all the terrible things you’ve done to me and my son. And the incredible leniency I’m giving your parents—that’s only fair, right?”

Vanessa hesitated, but nodded in agreement. Her tears smeared the makeup across her face.

“Good.” Melissa took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thank you, Vanessa. You really helped me control my emotions. I was pretty close to snapping, but your worshiping and words really put things into perspective. Okay, off you go to Carlos.”

With Melissa’s last words, Vanessa vanished.

-

Vanessa fell into a darkened room. The air was musty and thick with the odor of worn leather and oils. The room felt expansive, like an airport hanger, and the ground felt fibrous, like thick papyrus. There was something looming beside her, soaring high overhead and extending off into the distance.

“Carlos? You in here?” she asked while repeatedly shouting Carlos’s name.

Over time, her eyes adjusted to the dark and details surrounding her came into focus.

“Oh, this is fine.”

She was in Melissa’s shoe box. A shoe box that was also occupied with the goddess’s black high-heels. She guessed she was probably less than a quarter inch. Just the soles of Melissa’s shoes loomed over her. Vanessa remembered back in school when Carlos used to complain about being shrunk and sent to the shoe box as punishment. He used to call it his celestial prison.

“Carlos!”

Over the next ten minutes, Vanessa walked around the shoe box without finding Carlos. Did the goddess send her to the wrong shoe box? Did Carlos find a way out? He’s spent time in the shoe box before. Maybe he had a way out. Vanessa sat on the toe section of Melissa’s high-heels. The surrounding odor didn’t bother her, but it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant thing either. She buried her head in her knees and wondered where Carlos went, or if this was a huge tease from the goddess. How was she going to come clean with Carlos if he wasn’t there?

3. Melissa’s Duel

“They’re just like the other beings we’ve dealt with. Cretins unworthy to wield god’s powers. Their minds never exploring or peering at life outside their planet. They are so self-absorbed, so myopic, they play with mortals like toys, no different from a child in a sandbox. Their minds, unable to punch through the upper-levels of their atmosphere. All they care about is playing with their civilization.”

“They’re the most pitiful race we’ve met so far,” the second demon said. “These humans think they’re the only life in the universe. They do not know what’s coming, haha.”

The demons took on human male appearances. They wore pinstripe suits with raincoats; their collars popping up to shield the scales running down the back of their necks. Glasses hid their yellow eyes and gloves covered their blackened, pointy nails. They stood in Manhattan, in Times Square, far away enough for Goddess Melissa to not sense them.

The first demon said, “the humans they’ve chosen to be gods are deeply flawed, consumed by their own human weaknesses. It’s almost laughable how easy it’s been to manipulate the male and that female with wings. Just the slightest push, the tiniest suggestion, and they copulate as giants on top of their grand cities. They’ll extinguish their civilization for us, without us lifting a finger. Vanity and ignorance are our greatest allies. Imagine these mortals, who barely understand their own world, now playing with forces they can’t control. It’s a recipe for self-destruction.”

“Should we alert the Worldeater?”

“We needn’t rush the Worldeater. I think we can unravel each of these supposed gods with the simple pull of the string. In their downfall, they’ll hand us god’s power on a silver platter,” the first demon said.

“So what are we doing here?”

“Alexandra and Brad are the easiest gods to manipulate. Let their lust for each other destroy humanity. Hailee, we’ll use her lover and the one they call Grace. I guarantee she’ll hand us her godly powers if we give her a lover. Melissa … she’ll be a tough nut to crack.”

“She’s obsessed with her family? We should kill them.”

“She’s not obsessed with her family.”

“Then what?”

“She’s obsessed with mortals worshiping her. And that’s my plan.”

-

“Hey honey, anything the matter?” Alejandro asked. He was sitting on the kitchen counter, his tablet in his hands. His eight foot tall wife ducked into the kitchen and padded over to him. She leaned in and gave him an oversized kiss.

“Do you think I’m a ‘benevolent’ goddess?”

“Ooh, do I ever.” Alejandro set his tablet down beside him, spread his legs, grabbed either side of Melissa’s waist, and pulled her close to him for a tight embrace. Her well-endowed chest squeezing into his tiny form. Her warmth, her scent, as intoxicating as the day they first kissed. “You are the most powerful person in the world. You can literally have anyone you want; any life you want. And yet, here you are with me. I’m not even worthy to share the same space with you. Not tall enough or handsome enough to share a selfie with you. I’m a nobody with barely any courage to look you in the eyes. And that’s how I felt on our wedding day. And look at you now. Beautiful and kind as ever. Still married to this nobody. Benevolent doesn’t even begin to describe you, honey.”

“Aww, honey. You’re not just saying that?”

Alejandro took her massive hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. “You tell me.”

Melissa took in a long breath and felt the love overflowing her husband’s heart and pouring over her hand. She leaned in again and gave him a wet kiss. They both embraced, their arms exploring each other’s bodies. Melissa pulled Alejandro close to her and squeezed the air out of his lungs. He didn’t mind it in the slightest. His hands gracefully played with her breast and failed to reach over her buxom ass.

After several moments of passionate kissing, it smoothly transitioned to pecking and nibbling of each other’s ears and necks. Between breaths, Melissa said, “you’re not lucky to be with me.”

“Eh?”

“I’m lucky to be with you.”

Their kissing ramped up tenfold. Melissa man-handled Alejandro and slid him across the kitchen counter. They knocked over dishes, pots, and pans. Melissa’s enormous hand slipped between his legs, finding his erection fighting through his jeans. Her hands grabbed the waist of the jeans and pulled them apart. His fly and button, tearing as if they were made of wet napkins. She pulled down his boxer briefs, revealing his throbbing member.

With no sign other than a hungry, lust-filled expression, Melissa lowered her massive head and took his member into her mouth.

“Holy shit,” he said, before moaning uncontrollably. His legs twitching from the divine feeling. “It’s not even my birthday.”

The tip of Melissa’s tongue played with his balls while the rest of his cock was inside her mouth. The tip of his penis ran along the ribbed ceiling of her mouth, giving Alejandro sensations he didn’t know existed. His hands were on the back of her head, which was about the size of a pillow, and he pulled her into her. He could feel her breaths on his waist, and his bones vibrating as she moaned. Her tongue, longer than his member, explored his sensitive areas and found pleasurable nerve endings he didn’t know existed.

Melissa would then tightly purse her lips around his member and suck him like a popsicle. Alejandro cried out, thinking for a second that she’d blow his cock off. She sensed when he came close to blowing his loads and manipulated her mouth to make him last longer. Melissa edged him for several minutes. He was sweating with a heart beating a mile a minute. His member was swollen red and ready for release. Melissa gave him one more popsicle suck, and that was enough to set him off like a geyser into her mouth. Melissa gobbled his seed and licked up and down his cock like an ice cream cone.

“Mi amor,” Alejandro said. His wife had completely sucked his energy and his balls dry. He fought to stay balanced on the kitchen counter and keep his head up. He spoke in short bursts between his heavy breaths. “I love you so much.”

“My turn, mi amor.”

-

“Worshipers, what an asinine concept. For one, only a human with no imagination could come up with such a concept,” one demon said.

“No shortage of Melissa’s worshipers here, boss.”

The demons were wreaking havoc in Times Square. There was a lot of commotion between people, crowds gathering and fleeing, and many asking what was happening. There were no gunshots, loud bangs, or anything that would suggest an attack. But the large throngs of people with panic on their faces only panicked others.

“Are you a Melissa worshiper?” the demon asked.

“No,” a random citizen said.

The demon would then point his clawed hand at the human, causing the human to inexplicably internally combust into flames. They would scream until their internal organs melted. Then their bodies would liquify into a smoldering pile of tissue and fat; congealing into a mass about the size of a manhole cover on the ground, flames eating away at whatever was left.

If the demons encountered someone claiming to be a Melissa-worshiper, they’d handcuff them and add them to the chain of humans they had on a leash. Soon, the two demons had twenty humans they were tugging on a leash. Many stood clear of the demons and looked on with morbid curiosity. Few people actually left and evacuated Times Square. Police and other authority figures that attempted to intervene turned into a pile of smoldering goo under their touch.

If these were pre-ascension days, people would’ve lost their minds witnessing these physics-breaking powers. But in the days where a jilted lover could grow herself to 30,000 feet to terrorize a commercial plane, or monolithic Pantheon standing in rural Texas—this spectacle in Times Square seemed rather tame.

The demons—still unknown as demons to the populace—took their captured humans to the dead center of the square. They kicked the walls of a wooden crate with playbills plastered all over it, and revealed a white, oval, metallic object. The demons then got to work, strapping metallic collars to each human and then tying them to the white object.

“Do not reveal who we are to the goddess,” the first demon said to the other. “Or you’ll ruin the plan. Follow my lead.”

The demon pulled out a cell phone and called Goddess Melissa.

-

Goddess Melissa sat back on her couch, her head leaning so far back that she was looking up at the ceiling. She was taking quick, raspy breaths. A moan escaped between her lips and her eyelids fluttered as another climax exploded deep in her, radiating outwards. As her husband’s love for her engulfed her, her skin blazed, radiating a fiery glow.

Her phone rang. “What the fuck?” It was on the coffee table next to her feet. Her toes curled with every orgasm she experienced. She reached for her phone and pressed the ‘end call’ button and resumed relaxing on the couch.

The phone rang again.

“How the h—” Melissa picked up the phone and looked at it closely. It said it was from an unknown number. It was rather odd to receive a call from an unknown number since only the other gods, Alejandro, and her son, had the number. A celestial whitelist on her phone should’ve prevented any unapproved phonecalls.

“Who is this?” Melissa asked. She had one hand on her phone to her ear, and the other hand between her legs.

“Goddess… Melissa.” The voice was coarse, deep and sounded like it came from a dark wizard from a fantasy film. “Are you enjoying your momentary stay as a god?”

Melissa looked back at her phone, brought it back to her ear, and asked, “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

“You can say I’m a bit of a truth-seeker. I have a fun game for us to play, Melissa.”

“I don’t have time for games with mortals—”

“I am no mortal, Melissa.” The way the demon said her name was like a snake. The S sound hissing over the phone as he drew out the pronunciation. “And you’ve known I’m no mortal since I spoke my first words.”

“Get to the point. Why are you calling me?”

“Play a little game, Melissa. That is all. A little test of your divinity to prove you’re unworthy, unfit, unsuitable, irredeemably irresponsible for wielding such great power! You are no god. And I will prove it to all humans. And expose what you really are. An unremarkable mother from a shithole neighborhood, who lacked confidence to even drive a car, let alone drive an entire civilization. Now, granted the power of the universe, you let it go to waste on pitting, meaningless mortal issues. You—”

“Okay, I get it, Jesus fuck. I’ll play your stupid game, if it’ll just make you shut up.”

“Good. Come to Times Square. No funny stuff, Melissa. One wrong move from you, and I’ll level Manhattan and destroy all of New York City. Understand?”

The demon didn’t wait for an answer and hung up.

Melissa tossed the phone on the other side of the couch and fished for her husband out of her pussy. Alejandro was doll-sized and saturated in her sexual juices.

“Honey, something came up.” Melissa placed him on the floor and returned him to normal-size. She walked over to the front door and slipped on her Chuck Taylors. Alejandro wiped his wife’s viscous fluids from his eyes, which ended up re-sizing with him. “There’s something funny going on in Manhattan.”

“Is it serious?” he asked. As he walked, her juices dried and stiffened his clothes.

“I don’t know. Probably just a prank from one of the gods. I’ll be back soon. Oh, before I forget.” Melissa took a deep breath before she said, “I shrunk Carlos and his girlfriend. They’re both in my shoebox with the black heels you like. Vanessa lied about liking Carlos, and only faked a relationship with him, so she could ask a favor from me, sparing her parents that are committing a sin against me every day. She slept with Carlos, but that was only to gain his trust. I told Vanessa to come clean with Carlos. They’ve been in the shoebox for the last half-hour, so I can only imagine how mad they are at me. Let them out when you can. Bye!”

“The fuck?”

-

Melissa teleported herself to Times Square in her Pantheon height of 150-feet tall. She floated over the square and looked for an empty area to land. The crowds in the square quickly made space for the gigantic goddess, allowing her to step onto the road, crushing no one. The sea of people parted before Melissa, creating a path leading towards the center of the square where a duo of mysterious figures held the city hostage.

Melissa walked over to them, careful not to tread on anyone under her black and white Converse.

It was a peculiar scene. 30 humans with metallic collars around their necks were hooked up to a white sphere that was reminiscent of those 1950s style atomic bombs. Two men in pinstripe suits and sunglasses stepped forward in front of the hostages to greet the goddess.

Melissa planted her feet next to each other and looked down at the creatures that didn’t feel human to her. “You the one that called?”

“Yes.”

“What is this? What are you doing?”

“Why, this is the game, Melissa.”

Almost every news media outlet was in Times Square. Dozens of tripods with cameras littered the square. Reporters spoke frantically into their microphones as they covered the unfolding events. News vans with their antennas sticking out were far in the rear. Police were trying to push the crowds back. Worshipers, including those chained up at the neck, fell to their knees to worship Melissa.

“Is that what I think it is?” Melissa pointed at the sphere.

“If you thought, 50-megaton atomic bomb, you’d be partially correct. For this is a tamper-proof—or should I say, deity-proof, 50-megaton atomic bomb. It can glass all of Manhattan, destroying New York City, and devastating Northeast America. Millions will die in a split second. Millions over the next few weeks. And millions more over decades. Marvelous invention, really.”

“Okay, and?”

“Not compassionate, are you? Don’t care that the lives of millions are at risk?”

“I can easily protect everyone from an a-bomb, a-hole. What weak game are you trying to play?”

“I guess the deity-proof part didn’t click in your head, Melissa.” The demon in disguise waved his arm out and did a pirouette as he hopped towards Melissa’s sneaker-clad feet. “Even your powers are incapable of disarming, teleporting, shielding, moving, vanishing, or tampering this bomb in any way. And as an added safeguard, I hold a dead-man switch.” He lifted his gloved hand to reveal something that looked like a pen, with his thumb over the cap. “If I let go of this button, the bomb goes off.”

Times Square was silent. Even the ads that ran incessantly on billboards and buildings were muted. Only the howl of the winds going through buildings was audible. Melissa had her arms crossed as she took in what this thing said. She only considered it a thing, because it was definitely not mortal. If it were celestial, it was something beyond her comprehension. Where these two things stood, all she could sense was a void. No soul. No presence. It reminded her of that encounter she had on the cruise days ago. An entity that eluded her godly senses.

“Why would you do this?” Melissa asked, fear absent in her voice. “Why threaten millions of innocent lives?”

“Because I want something.” His fingers twirled.

Melissa looked over at the bomb. Just like the two men, there was a void where the object stood. Like a celestial blackhole. There was no way her powers could reach out and interact with the object. For the first time, traces of apprehension seeped into her.

“What do you want?” Melissa asked.

“To play my game!”

Melissa bit her lips and shut her eyes as her patience waned. “What is this game?”

“Thought you’d never asked.” The man skipped to the bomb with 30 people tied to it. “These mortals claim they are your devout worshipers. If they all publically recant their devotion to you and the other gods—making them non-believers as you put it—and you harvest each of their souls in your trademark fashion, I’ll disarm the bomb. If not, the bomb will explode.”

“My options are, kill 30 people, or kill an entire city?”

“No, no, they have to choose to stop worshiping you. And then you eat them. That is what you do with non-believers, right?” The man looked at a nearby news camera. “Oh, did I spill some awful secret about the goddess? Not everyone knows you eat non-believers, Melissa? Are you ashamed, maybe?”

“This is your pinche game? Make 30 people stop worshiping me, so I can punish them and save the city?”

“What makes you so sure they’ll stop worshiping you? If they die now, they go to heaven. If they recant their devotion to you … they go to hell for all eternity. Your rules, not mine. Do you think all 30 will recant their love for the benevolent goddess? Go to hell for eternity so that others may live? Or let everyone die, to guarantee their entry to heaven?”

A text message came in on Melissa’s phone. She pulled it out of her dress and quickly glanced at it. It was from Alejandro and said, “can’t find Carlito anywhere.”

“I think I know what that message says.” The man skipped to the crowd chained to the atomic bomb. Out he pulled Carlos. He had a metal collar like the others. “The game will last for ten minutes. If they ALL don’t agree to go recant their worship to you, and you eating them all in public, the bomb will go off.”

The other man pressed a button, and a counter popped up on every billboard in Times Square. Ten minutes was counted down in bold red print. The first man lifted his hand up with the dead-man switch and gave it a jiggle.

-

Melissa felt an unfamiliar sensation since her ascension to godhood—her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach. Below her, amidst the vast crowd of Times Square, her son’s eyes met hers, filled with terror and silent pleas for help. She took a moment, slowly blinking, eyes shifting around the square, trying to fully grasp the situation unfolding before her.

The creatures orchestrating this crisis were unknown to her, their motives not entirely clear, and their willingness to carry out their morbid threats a mystery. However, their non-mortal nature, coupled with the bomb’s celestial-lead shielding, left no room for doubt. This threat seemed too real, and it demanded her full attention.

People filled Times Square as if it was New Year’s Eve. Countless cameras continued broadcasting her every move live across the globe. The world was watching, waiting for her response; everyone at home wondering how the goddess would handle the situation.

Melissa’s mind raced back to her days as a police officer. She had been in tense situations before, but nothing like this. Could she teleport the bomb away? No, it was impossible—the bomb was immune to her powers, as a ghost to human touch. What about a protective bubble, strong enough to contain a 50-megaton blast? The creatures had claimed it wouldn’t work. Siding with caution, she quickly dismissed that option.

The more she considered the bomb’s resistance to her powers, the more it seemed she had been skillfully backed into a corner. The choices were unthinkable: allow the bomb to detonate, killing millions including her family, or force the hostages to renounce their faith, condemning their souls to hell. Neither was acceptable. Her son, her husband, and innocent lives were at stake. There had to be another way out.

Doubts crept into her mind. Were the creatures right in their scathing assessment of her? Was she truly not worthy of her divine status, or was she just a pretender about to be unmasked before the entire world?

Her gaze shifted quickly between the key elements of this dire situation—her son, the bomb, the malevolent creatures. Did they really think of everything? They were awfully confident in their plans. Perhaps …

“M’hijito!” Melissa said. “Why aren’t you in timeout? I sent you to your room like thirty minutes ago.”

All eyes in Times Square, including the demons, shifted to Carlos.

Carlos’s head popped back, not expecting his mother’s words. He looked around and saw that the news cameras and the entire crowd were all focusing on him. He looked up at his towering mother, accustomed to seeing her in her gargantuan height, and groaned, “mom,” with a wavering voice.

“Don’t ‘mom’ me. I sent you to timeout, and you got yourself kidnapped. Haven’t I taught you better?”

“I just showed up here. Those dudes grabbed me out of nowhere. I was at the dinner table one second, and the next, I was chained up.”

Melissa shifted her gaze to the creatures. “Is this true?”

The demon looked at his companion and let out a laugh with the shake of the head. “Nine minutes left, and this is how you intend to use it. We took your son, imprisoned him under your nose, and you didn’t notice him until we brought him up. Hear that humans? The one you worship—the one you call god—can’t even detect when her son goes missing. Some goddess. I await your next move, Melissa. I know you sense it, as do I. Your worshipers are abandoning you. They recant their devotion to you. Eat them, Melissa. Eat the non-believers and save the city!”

“Don’t anybody dare stop worshiping me. You might think you’re saving the city, but you must maintain your faith in me.” She looked at Carlos with her last words.

“Amazing,” the demon said. “Marvelous creatures, humans are. So, self-absorbed. You’d rather level a city than lose a worshiper?”

“I’d rather them maintain their faith in me. Faith that I, as their god, will protect them.”

The demon laughed. “That is rich. Of all the gods I’ve tested … Never have I met such an arrogant species. Even for a god, you are irreparably egotistic.”

“What makes you—or anyone here—think I can’t bring everyone’s life back after the bomb goes off?”

“Can you? Have you ever brought the dead back to life? You haven’t. You don’t know if you can do it. And you especially don’t know if you can bring back millions. Nice try, Melissa. The only way our game ends is by our rules.”

Melissa shook her head with a smirk. “You got me. You tiny, little pendejos thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“We have.” The demon smiled widely and adjusted his tie. He looked at his partner and gave him a wink. The timer dropped below five minutes. Those chained to the bomb recanted their beliefs in hopes the goddess would save the city. “Feel that Goddess Melissa? More and more have given up on you. They know you’re no true goddess.”

“They haven’t given up on me. They think sacrificing themselves is the noble option here.” She then faced the hostages with collars and said, “It isn’t the right choice. You don’t want to go to hell for an eternity. Don’t lose faith in me, children.”

The demon shrugged. “Looks like we’re seeing this all the way through.”

“Not afraid to die?” Melissa asked.

“No. We won’t be affected, nor would you.”

“Mom!” Carlos said. “You have to save the city. Just sacrifice us already.”

“M’hijo, I will not. And none of you better stop worshiping me.”

“Mom! What the fuck? That’s what you care about? Worshiping? They’re just doing the ‘trolley problem’ on you. We all know the answer. It’s better to kill a few to save the many.”

“Carlito, you have to stop using curse words with me.”

“Seriously? Who gives a fuck about that right now? New York is about to get vaporized. You have to save it. Sacrifice us to save millions.”

“I will not tolerate any mortals, and that goes for you, too, m’hijo, in losing faith in me.”

Carlos broke down, despair and disappointment filling his heart. Was his mother willing to kill millions because of her obsession with worshiping? Was this how all gods acted? Were her actions driven by the fact she was a god? Or was this the behavior of a narcistic human corrupted with absolute power?

His mother was no longer the mother he knew. She had gone off in the deep-end and shed any semblance of humanity she once held. As he looked up at her dark eyes, he couldn’t find traces of her humanity. She stared back at him, eyes as dark as night. No humanity. No soul. And the warmth she once had—the loving eyes that looked over him all his life were gone.

Carlos lowered himself and sat on the ground on his bottom. He was doomed from the start. Either his mother took his soul and saved the city, or the bomb take his life along with millions. Was it worth worshiping someone like his mother? Someone so self-absorbed that she would rather have millions die than risk a single apostate.

It wasn’t worth worshiping his mother, even if that meant hell. Under the gaze of who he considered his former mother, Carlos became an un-believer.

“Oh, Carlito.” Melissa slumped her shoulder as she exhaled dejectedly, as she felt his wavering belief in her flicker away.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” the demon said. “Even your own son doesn’t believe you’re a god.”

The crowds murmured, and the cameras hummed as they recorded the silence. Melissa stood proud and tall, unwilling to move where she stood. It remained like this as the timer went down to two minutes. Then less than a minute.

As the timer dropped to 20 seconds, every citizen in Times Square still clutched to hopes that Melissa would sacrifice the 30 hostages and save the city. But the goddess stood still with her arms crossed—refusing to doom 30 to hell for eternity to appease these twisted creatures. She looked down at them defiantly.

The creature faced the camera, and therefore the world, and announced, “this is who you worship? A false god? You are right with your opinions of her. She. Is. No. God.” With those last words, he looked at Carlos. “End your worship of the false-gods. Reject them, as her son rejected his very own mother.”

People cried and others ran with less than five seconds left. Melissa looked on, unphased as the counter dropped to zero and the bomb exploded.

-

Immediately following the nuclear blast, there was a flash of light ten times brighter than the sun that lasted half a minute. Once the bright white light subsided, in the blast’s wake, was a vast wasteland where New York City once stood. Those two creatures, still unknown to Melissa that they were demons, still stood in place in their undamaged suits. Melissa, alive and unscathed, shrunk herself to eight-feet and approached the creatures, her black dress and Converse shoes untouched by the blast.

“What is the matter with you?” she asked. “You just killed millions!”

“We did not, Melissa. You had the choice to stop it. You deemed killing millions was better than accepting and reaping the souls of the non-believers. This pitiful planet and yourself will have to live on—knowing what a colossal fraud you are. Or, you can abdicate your role right now. Give up your godly powers.”

“Never!”

“So be it. We’ll be on our way now. Pleasure to have met you.”

“Wait! Wait, wait, just wait. This can’t be happening. This just … can’t be happening. You can’t have this power of destruction. I … I should’ve been able to stop this. I know there’s a way. The bomb wasn’t guarded. I could’ve stopped it. You couldn’t have possibly thought of everything.”

The creatures laughed. “God powers or not—your human-origins are your greatest limitations. A brain woefully incapable of handling a simple moral test. I expected nothing from you, Melissa, and I am still disappointed by your inaction.”

“You pendejos can’t possibly be smarter than me. The bomb had a weakness. I just know it.”

The creatures looked at one another and let out another round of hearty laughs. “They never look, do they? I see no harm in telling you now, Melissa, but had you looked on top of the bomb, you would’ve seen three switches and a button. A plain mechanism to render the bomb nothing more than a static prop. A child would’ve been able to defuse the bomb with or without celestial powers.”

“You’re kidding me? If I just—”

“You would’ve never gotten close. After all, I have the dead-man switch. Which I don’t need anymore.” The demon let go of the pen device and tossed it at Melissa’s feet.

Melissa bent over and picked it up, examining it. “If only I knew this from the start. I guess you did outsmart me.”

“We always do.” The creature faced his companion and said, “let us waste no more time. Our work here is done. For now.”

“Not from around here, are you?” Melissa asked.

“We are done speaking with you, Melissa. You are of no good to us—anymore!”

“Because if you were from earth—you would’ve known ten minutes haven’t passed since you started the timer.”

Both creatures stopped in their tracks and looked over their shoulders at the eight-foot woman with a grin on her face. The bomb had destroyed New York as far as the eye could see. No structure, tree, or rock stood. They had devastated or extinguished life within a 50-mile radius. There was no bringing the dead back or reversing time. What was done, was done.

What was Melissa going on about? Why was she suddenly confident with a smirk that said she knew something they did not? The demons accomplished their set-out goal. No matter which choice Melissa made, she would always be deemed unworthy to be a god by her civilization. There was no way out of their fool-proof game.

The demon turned, his posture uneasy. “What do you mean ten minutes hadn’t passed? You don’t possess the ability to manipulate time. Nor could you change the timer on the bomb.”

“Sure.” Melissa wiggled the dead-man switch in her fingers. “But I still had the power to change the screens and billboards around Times Square, to show a fake countdown.”

“You didn’t.”

“When I spoke to my son, and everyone turned to him, I sped the countdown with no one realizing. That goes for you two. Ten minutes haven’t passed.”

“Nice little trick, but the bomb has clearly gone off.”

“Has it?”

The demons were no longer holding their composure. They slouched their shoulders slightly and felt a noxious unease course through their black veins. “Of course it has! You failed to save lives, Melissa. They’re dead. All dead. Your son is gone and so was this pathetic excuse for a city.” He extended his arms out, showcasing the surrounding wasteland.

“Aww, you nervous?”

“Delusional! Either that, or you’re trying to make me give away something. It won’t work.” The demon walked out to the side. “Accept it, Melissa. It is all gone. All—” He bumped into something. Like an invisible barrier. Where there should’ve been nothing but wasteland was—something. The demon lifted his hands up and touched it. There was a wall. A wall he couldn’t perceive with his vision. He looked over his shoulders at Melissa—her grin only growing wider. He looked back at the invisible wall and pushed. It budged a little. He pushed harder.

The walls came tumbling down. Surrounding the demons and Melissa were walls projecting a false reality. They weren’t actually in the wastelands of New York. They were still in Times Square. Nobody had died in a nuclear explosion; they were still alive and standing around, watching the goddess play the creatures for fools. The timer on the bomb still had 60 seconds to go before it exploded.

Though the bomb was impervious to her goddess powers, the world around her was not. She sped the timer displayed around the square and encased the creatures in an illusion, making them think they saw the bomb explode. They were living in a virtual reality dome that the goddess conjured without the demons sensing it.

She fooled them.

“It can’t be.” The demons, the crowds in Times Square, and everyone at home watching TV watched Melissa calmly walk over to the atomic bomb. Less than 15 seconds on the real timer. Her eight-foot stature overshadowed the hostages that were chained up by the neck to the bomb. “But the dead-man switch!” he said. “It should’ve exploded when I released it.”

“Too bad you didn’t think of putting a goddess-blocker on it, too.” When the demon released the switch in his hand and tossed it at Melissa’s feet, he didn’t notice the button hadn’t depressed. Melissa used telekinetic powers to keep the button from releasing and thus prevented the bomb from exploding.

Melissa fiddled with the controls at the top of the bomb and defused it with only a second left. Once its celestial blockers were down, Melissa teleported the entire thing out of the planet and deep into space. She then started helping the hostages out of their neck harnesses.

“This can’t be!” The demon lifted both his hands. Red orbs of power forming in both hands. Without looking, Melissa pointed back at them with a finger. A force-field materialized between both creatures. The shield effectively blocking his powers from harming anyone. “How?”

Once finished releasing all the hostages, Melissa returned to her colossal 150 foot tall stature, her gargantuan feet causing some people from the crowd to run. Everyone else in Times Square fell to their knees in awe. The goddess bested these creatures and saved the city without losing a hostage.

Melissa looked down at the creatures before her feet with arms crossed. “Now that that’s over, I got some questions.”

“We failed. We failed our master.”

“Let’s start with that. Who’s your master? Where are you from?”

The demons ignored Melissa. They pulled daggers from inside their coats. Without further explanation, they jammed the knives upwards through their jaw, the sharp end of the knives piercing their brains, killing them. They dropped to a heap on the ground.

“Ay, chingada. I should’ve seen that coming.” Melissa turned to face the crowds. “Crisis averted, everyone!” Cheers broke out at Melissa’s proclamation. The goddess had saved them from an unknown, powerful threat. And she’d done so in such ingenious ways. It only proved that Melissa was a genuine goddess, worthy of her powers—the complete opposite of what the creatures were trying to prove. For the first time, the people viewed Melissa, not only as a goddess, but as a protector.

But the hostages weren’t feeling as lively as the rest. They had doubted the goddess could save the city and abandoned their faith to her. Even after she told them not to. They had become the thing she hates most: non-believers.

Her son, included.

“It’s okay, everyone. I’m not angry in the slightest,” Melissa began, her gaze softening as she looked down at the hostages who had lost faith in her. “I understand the crazy choice you all’ve faced. Your willingness to sacrifice your spot in heaven, to save the lives of others, speaks volumes to your humanity. To choose an eternity in hell to save countless lives—that’s courage I can’t help but respect and honor.”

Her eyes then drifted to her son, a deeper reflection in her voice. “However, I sense that many of you lost faith not just to save others, but because you doubted I could’ve saved you. Faced with danger, you questioned whether I truly was a god capable of protecting you from harm. I’m not—I’m not angry about this. Please don’t be afraid; rather, it’s made me think … If your faith in me is so fragile, so easily shattered under pressure—that means I’ve failed you as your god. You don’t trust in me. And I don’t blame you. I’m sorry everyone. I promise to try harder—to be the god you all deserve.”

People looked at each other and were ashamed to admit the truths Melissa spoke. More importantly, Melissa’s speech revealed a seldom seen side of the gods: humility. If not already on the ground, the crowds got on their hands and knees and worshiped Melissa from the bottom of their hearts.

“Let’s go home, Carlito.”

4. No More Lies

They transported back to the hallway outside their apartment door. Melissa was back to eight-feet stature and Carlos stood beside her. Melissa clasped her hands and waited for her son to make the first move. But he just stood still with his eyes looking straight ahead at their closed front door.

“Mom?”

Melissa looked down at her son with a hopeful expression, eager to hear him open up to her. “Yes, m’hijito?”

“Can you unlock the door?”

“Oh.” Melissa waved her hand, and the door swung open. She followed him into the apartment and immediately kicked off her shoes. Over in the dining room, Alejandro sat alone and perked up when he saw his son and wife enter.

“Is Vanessa still here?” Carlos asked.

“Yup, right here.” Alejandro pointed at a plate on the table where a single slice of bread stood. Vanessa, hardly a quarter of an inch tall, sat on the untoasted bread as if it were an expansive bed.

Melissa’s steps boomed over to the shrunken girl. Her appearance was grander that a mountain to the frightened young woman. “That’s right. Let me fix that.” Melissa returned Vanessa to her normal-height, re-sizing the girl on top of the dining table.

Vanessa apologized as she kicked over dishes as she climbed down from the table.

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Why did you shrink Vanessa, mom?”

“It’s probably best that she explains. Vanessa, do you have something to say to my son?”

Vanessa was a wreck. Aside from the traumatization of being insignificantly tiny, she was terrified of confessing. “Carlos, I’ve been lying about being your girlfriend.”

Carlos put his hands in his pocket. He looked up at his mother, ready to accuse her, but then turned back to Vanessa. “What?”

“I don’t want to be your girlfriend. I never was.” Vanessa’s breathing quickened as she saw the heartbreak in Carlos’s face. “I only got close to you, so I can talk to your mom. My parents, see, they’re non—”

“Stop.” Carlos shook his head. He fought back tears as he tried to look Vanessa in the eyes. “You only dated me … because who my mom is?”

The silence between their words was deafening. “Yes. But I swear, Carlos, I didn’t mean for it to get carried away like this. I was just going to be your friend. I didn’t mean for us to—”

“Fuck?”

Vanessa looked up at Melissa and then at Alejandro. The cat was definitely out of the bag. “Yes.”

Carlos then rubbed his hands on his face. He looked up at his mother, who remained silent and had a look of concern for her son. “See? This is because of you. It’s always about you. Nobody cares about me, other than I’m related to you.”

“M’hijito, I—”

“Stop. Just …” Carlos shooed his mother away as she came to him with a hug. “Just stop. I hate this family. I hate this family and I hate you.” Carlos turned away and came to pass Vanessa as he headed for the stairs. As he walked by his ex-girlfriend, he said “bitch.” Carlos stormed to his room and slammed the door.

Vanessa was sobbing. She looked up at Melissa, who appeared to be on the verge of tears. “Goddess, I—”

“Leave Vanessa. Just go, before I do something I regret.”

Vanessa didn’t need to be told twice. She grabbed her things from the living room and bolted out of the apartment, feeling Melissa’s wrathful eyes on her the entire time. Alejandro remained seated at the table, unsure what to say to his wife.

“What am I supposed to do?” Melissa asked her husband.

“Right now? Nothing. He needs time and space.”

Melissa sat at the dining table with her husband and chewed on her nails, lost in thought. Vanessa got off too easy, she thought. Her kindness was taken advantage of. But if it wasn’t Vanessa, it would’ve been someone else. Carlos was in for a lifetime as the son of the Benevolent Goddess. People would seek him to get close to her.

“I don’t get it, honey,” Melissa said. “I can cure illness, manipulate the weather to my desire,  defuse an atomic bomb that is impervious to god-powers in the middle of New York and save millions of lives against all odds, but I can’t help our son.”

“That’s an oddly specific metaphor.”

“He’ll always hate me for being a god.”

“He doesn’t hate you. His heart just got broken, and he’s taking it out on you. Lemme talk to him.”

“Are you sure? You won’t make it worse?”

“Hey, look at who you’re talking to.”

-

“Son? M’hijo?” Alejandro stood outside Carlos’s room and rapped on his door. “Can I come in and talk to you?”

“Go away.”

“I’m coming in.” Alejandro walked into his son’s bedroom and discovered him lying on his stomach on the bed. “Hey, bud. I’m sorry about everything that happened.”

Carlos grunted. He planted his face flat on his bed, unwilling to look up at his father.

“It’s terrible what Vanessa did to you. But I had a talk with her before you and your mother showed up. Vanessa did what she did, because she loves her mom and dad. They’re non-believers, Carlos. She’s terrified that they’re going to hell.”

Carlos turned over in his bed and faced his father. His eyes were heavy and his face drooped.

“Vanessa thought, if she talked to your mom, maybe she could convince her to spare her parents from hell. I’m not trying to excuse what she did to you—but you can understand how desperate she was, can’t you? That love for her parents. She was willing to ask your mom to her face, to spare her parents. I don’t even have the courage to ask your mom to get me a beer, let alone to bend the rules of the afterlife.”

Carlos got up in his bed and swung his legs over the side. “Did you know mom eats non-believers?”

Alejandro burst into laughter. “Eat non-believers?” He asked, expecting his son to also laugh. “Can you imagine? Especially considering how much she eats nowadays?”

Carlos lifted a brow as he looked at his dad. “That’s what those people said. Those terrorists. They said mom eats non-believers, and they wanted to prove it on TV.”

Alejandro wiped the last tears from his eyes and noted how serious his son was. He sat on the bed beside his son and asked, “Wait, what are you talking about?”

Carlos explained what happened in Times Square. It surprised him that his father was oblivious to the near annihilation of New York. But Alejandro was busy taking care of Vanessa when those events went down.

“Well, that can’t be true. Your mother doesn’t eat people.”

-

Alejandro and Carlos switched topics and spoke more about Vanessa, relationships, and heartbreaks. When Carlos felt better, Alejandro told him to take all the time he needed before speaking to his mother. He left his son’s room and gently closed the bedroom door.

Alejandro was about to rejoin his wife in the dining room when a nagging feeling pulled him back from the stairs. She eats people? Alejandro asked himself. Has she been doing it under my nose? It was in the realm of possibilities. His wife had plenty of private time, between the Pantheon and even when she was home.

Like when she had the bedroom locked and to herself.

He turned on his heels and walked into his bedroom. He closed the door behind him and looked around for—he wasn’t sure what to look for. What was she doing in the bedroom for so long? She was a god; she didn’t have to dress up or prep her hair or do anything. Why the privacy?

His eyes fell on the bed. The sheets were disturbed. The sheets were white as snow and shimmered under the warm glow of the bedroom lights.

He spotted a tiny crumb, standing out sharply against the pristine sheets, like a single ant crawling along a white countertop. Alejandro plucked the crumb between his thumb and index finger and brought it to his eyes. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, but when they did, what he saw only confused him. It was a camera.

Alejandro scoured the bed for any more objects. In the next minute, he found a purse, a solitary sandal, and a baseball cap. None were his nor his wife. And these objects were hardly visible. He sat on his bed and went through the objects in his palm, trying to make sense of what he was looking at.

Melissa came through the door, causing him to snap his neck up. “There you are. How long have you been up here? Still in the mood to be my little dildo?”

“Honey … ?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you eat non-believers?”

Melissa closed the bedroom door and raised a brow. “Why would you ask that?”

“Honey, please don’t lie. I found these.” He lifted his hands to show the microscopic objects he was sure his goddess wife would see with her inhuman eyes. In fact, those very eyes bulged widely upon noticing them. “Did you eat the people these things belonged to?”

“Oh, shit.”

-