Drunken goddess

My back is resting against a protesting ten-story building as I relax and take small sips of my whisky mug. The water tower was pretty large, so I have a really good serving. I’m used to bars at nice hotels, but I can tell you that they never serve anything near this, even when waiters look at me surprised when I ask for a triple.

The early night’s breeze caresses my near entirely exposed skin as I relax, taking more sips of my whisky as I reflect on how great the world has suddenly become.

True, things were not bad for me. I was young, I was successful, I was moderately wealthy and I was hot enough to have sex with any man I set my eyes on. I guess it’s as good as a life as one can have as a tiny.

I would have even believed that it was hard to improve it, if I had not had the chance to experience something else. The difference is so astronomical that I even feel stupid for having thought so great about my previous life.

Out of pure will, I’ve turned myself into a goddess. Not in the sense of someone to be worshiped. I couldn’t care less about religion, let alone to found my own. I’m just referring to power. The ultimate power.

Yesterday I had to ride in taxis and planes. Today I can just walk anywhere in minutes.

Yesterday I got really upset when I got stuck in traffic. Now I can just trample it.

Yesterday I had to work for a living. Today I can just do anything I please without having to worry about the consequences.

Yesterday I had to go to a restaurant for food. Today I can snack on the world’s population.

Yesterday I had to seduce a man to get him to bed. True, it was not hard. But today I just need to reach out to pick a handful of men and fuck them. I guess it would technically be a rape. You could even call it a gangbang. After everything I’ve done, I hope that you are not too shocked about this one.

Actually, now that I think about it, I guess that this is one of the nicest effects of what has happened to me. I don’t need to get concerned about morals anymore. Or saying it differently, I make my own morals. And there’s no fucking thing in the world anyone can do about it. They can definitely try, but then I can step on them, freeze them, vaporize them… well, you get the idea.

I guess I could say that I’m above right and wrong. I can do anything I want and being a young playful girl, I want to try all the possibilities of my new self.

I had not realized about any of this before. I had to see things from a new perspective to find out. Even if I had Eileen’s example in front of me all this time…

I sadden at the memory of Eileen. I mentally toast to her and then wash out the entire contents of the water tower, feeling the whisky deliciously burning down my throat as I do.

She was too goodhearted. The world could never forgive her for having humiliated it in the way she did, for having it realize about how helpless they were in front of a being of her power. I will not make the same mistake. There’s no way I will wimp out of this.

The thought of my sister makes me feel melancholic again. The alcohol is starting to take its toll on me and I feel more determined than ever to see her free.

There’s still plenty of stock left at Dalton’s, and I still have some of the stuff I used, so a little clumsier than before, I fix myself a second drink, crushing a whole lot of construction equipment as I do it.

There’s no way in the world they will be able to stop me from freeing my sister. Hell, there’s no way in the world they can stop from doing anything I fucking please. I will release her first and then we will both take over the country. Hell! We are going to take over the world!

I’m getting dizzier and dizzier as my mind goes through these thoughts. Before I’ve realized, I’ve downed the second water tower of whisky.

“TO YOU, EILEEN” I say aloud as I wrap my fingers around the water tower, turn it into a pile of junk and toss it over my shoulder.

Then, I stand up in a rush.

Ok, it was too much of a rush. I’m about to fall on my butt when I manage to correct my footing. Unfortunately for it, this sends my left foot right on top of a six story building. It does not stand a chance, crumbling on itself as if it had been made of crackers.

“OOOPS” I say aloud as I see what I’ve done and I realize that being all-powerful has not apparently made me immune to alcohol.

I try to focus my sight and I realize that I cannot. The world feels as if it were slowly moving… but both my feet are firmly planted on the ground.

I try to focus, trying to fix my stare into some reference. I find a four-story warehouse like building a couple of blocks away that looks useful for that purpose. The world starts to slowly come back to place. Then, without warning, two powerful beams shot from my eyes and the warehouse erupts into a massive explosion. It has been really massive… I mean, it has felt as if someone had rigged the entire building with explosives. By the time the debris rains back into the ground and the smoke clears out again I see that there is a huge crater in the spot I was apparently targeting.

“FUCK” I say aloud

Everything starts turning again.

I feel the high is still on the rise and realize that I have drunk a little too much. My next step confirms the impression as I stumble again and my left foot ends up stomping much harder than it should, reaching a water main and starting to flood the street.

This is hardly the first time I’m drunk. And I know what they say about what drinking does to me: I either get playful, or get violent or get horny. Many times it’s a combination of them.

I look around me. There’s nothing. For all the stuff I’ve done, I’ve not yet visited the city. The area where I’m at is wasted and is boring. The night is young, I’m a 21-year-old drunken goddess and I want to party. I take a first towards it.

Three steps later I’m starting to get better and keeping a straight line. A couple of cars have ended under my feet, but I would have probably stepped them anyway if I had actually been looking. A loud sound catches my attention a couple of blocks to the front. I move my head maybe a little too quickly to try to find its source. My head is rolling a little again by the time I see the car and the two tiny guys trying to get into it. The sound is apparently that of the alarm as the guys were probably trying to break into a vehicle that was not theirs to hide from me.

It does not play out too well for them as the beams are out before I can realize and the two guys are incinerated, along with the car and half the building it was parked in front of.

“FUCK!” I say once more

My laser vision seems to be one more muscle of my body I’ve suddenly lost control of. It’s not that I’m not achieving the finesse I had come to develop… it’s just that much like an inebriated person not controlling her arms or legs, my eyes seem to be channeling massive amounts of energy out of their own will.

“IF I KEEP LIKE THIS FOR A WHILE THERE WON’T BE ANY OF THE CITY LEFT BY THE TIME I GET THERE!” I protest aloud

I take a deep breath and focus on trying to keep a straight pace once more. After half a dozen blocks I smile, thinking that I’m actually doing much better. I do not consider any of the partially crumbled façades of the buildings I brushed with my shins on thighs as I zig-zagged to be too much of an issue.

The red braking lights of the cars of Coastal Highway are already much closer and I can feel that I’m getting to downtown. I think they are reacting to me, although I’m not in the best shape to trust into my perceptions, to be honest.

I don’t care and I just decide to tease them as I keep advancing in a more or less straight line.

“YUHU TINIES!” I call their attention from the distance, even if I’m closing it pretty quickly. “I’M VICKI! I’M A GIANT AND UMMM… YOU’RE NOT!” I say

I notice that I’m dragging my words as I speak. If I were driving and a cop pulled me up, I guess that this would be more than enough to make him blow into breathalyzer. That’s hardly a problem anymore, since I can step on any cop that shows up.

Besides the obvious problems with my pronunciation, I realize that my words are not an example of eloquence either. I don’t give a shit. I know that I get talkative when I get drunk.

“WAIT FOR ME, WILL YOU?” I ask. Then I add “WELL, IT DOESN’T MATTER IF YOU DON’T. I WILL CATCH YOU ANYWAY”. I chuckle, finding myself incredibly funny. Then I keep going. “HEY! I’M JUST A BIG GIRL OUT FOR SOME FUN!” I say. Then, I think about something I find terribly funny again and I giggle before saying “JUST LET ME WARN YOU THAT THIS MAY INVOLVE STEPPING ON YOU, FUCKING YOU AND EATING YOU… ALTHOUGH NOT NECESSARILY IN THAT ORDER”

I feel like a stand-up comedian and so far no one has dared to tell me that I’m not funny. Of course I’ve kept zig-zagging towards the highway as I was talking to them and even if I did not follow the straightest possible path, I’ve caught them quickly enough.

I stop, feeling my head turning again. I look down and see a familiar image, just a little more blurred. Dozens of tiny people are scurrying between the aisles of packed cars, just in front of my toes. Their screams are a little distorted when they reach my ears, but they are distinguishable enough.

“OH, HERE YOU ARE!” I say cheerfully. “NOW, WHAT WAS THAT I SAID THAT I WAS GOING TO DO WITH YOU?”