Hey there folks. Decided to pull some meat out of the locker for “Thursday Flash” – my little contribution to the world of short fiction. I had a blast writing these, hope you have a blast reading them.
“So, Cornopholous. In what trite way does thoust plan on amusing us this day?”
“Ahh, Demi-God. A bold question so early in the day from one such as you.” The raised eyebrow and sideways glance suffers Demi more than the sharp words Cornopholous utters.
Thundering silence is all Demi can bring forth.
“Do not worry thyself fledgling. You may rest with the knowing that I have a most ingenious plan.”
The deities stand over the glassine dome, the window by which they observe and manipulate the punys. Bright sunlight reflects off the marble ribbed columns that rise further up into the clouds. Wind pushes their flowing gray hair to this side then that.
“Take notice, young Demi. The puny on the edge of yon hill.” Cornopholous raises an ancient finger and points. A solitary puny is bathed in a golden light and Demi responds with a non-commital, “Mmm.”
“This one is full of himself. Sees himself as some sort of God amongst his own kind. He is no more a God than the ants that scurry to avoid his sandals. It shall be the height of amusement to bring him down to the level of the other punys – the ones who disgust him to the depths of his soul.”
“Watch, my dear Demi.”
Romulus could feel that something was different. The brief glow of light always preceded remarkable events in his life and he was ready for whatever the Gods would thrust his direction. Standing arms folded, he looked down on the village. Soon he would head to his writing abode and take care of the Gods once and for all.
“I think I shall start with something simple.” Cornopholous waggled a finger and all of the ink in the poor fated writing room belonging to Romulus dried up. For good measure, he flattened all of the points on the quills.
A mere shadow of a smirk crossed Demi’s face.
Romulus arrives at his place. Avoiding the inane morning greetings hailed from the townfolk, he ducks in through the low entry. He has a plan to thwart the Gods and he is most anxious to put his plan into play. He pulls the ruby from his satchel and admires the radiance. Over and over he strokes and caresses the gem. The size of a small lemon, it is the grandest precious stone in the land. He paid handsomely for it. The Oracle promised power beyond his imagination and that was worth more than all the gold in the world to Romulus.
He glances over to his writing table and sees the dried ink pots. And so it begins he thinks. That is fine.
Romulus gathers the stone and the sling he has had made special for his purpose.
The day is brilliant in its sun drenched glory.
Tis a fine day to bring down the Gods. The trek up to the top of Sophecles Hill is short. Soon, Romulus is at the apex. He prepares for the ritual. The ruby is laid on the special sheepskin. The point of the ruby headed towards the sky. He kneels with his arms raised and bellows the incantation, as the Oracle instructed. He can see the rectangular shape shimmering high above. He places the ruby in the leather pocket of the slingshot and starts twirling the sling…
Cornopholous peers through the glassine dome. His anger is immediate and is only matched by something he had yet to know – fear.
“The puny has the Ruby of Rahm! Damn the Oracle! This cannot be!”
Romulus completes the final swing of the sling and lets go the ruby towards the heavens. Leaving a glowing, faint red trail, the ruby soars towards the rectangle in the sky.
“NOOOO!” Cornopholous brings the end of his staff down to the floor with no effect.
The ruby strikes true and soars through the glassine dome, sending shards everywhere. A small sliver strikes Cornophplous on the temple. He brings his fingers to his head and then glances at them. Blood? How can this be?
Romulus ascends. His body is flaccid as he rises to the heavens to take his rightly place. His temple in the sky dwarfs what was the temple of Cornopholous. As his temple rises and passes by Cornopholous, he can see the fallen God withering into a collapsed ball.
Laughing, Romulus looks into his glassine dome and gleefully decides how he shall darken the lives of the punys on this fateful day.
Great, George!