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Prologue


For the past three years, I have been thinking about how to start this. I have never been incredibly good about getting my thoughts down on paper. Recent events have persuaded me to hurry up and get my story down. I believe the best and most honest way to will start this is with an apology. To everyone living on the East coast of North America, sorry for all the hurricanes. Gods are selfish dicks. I am not apologizing for myself mind you, more of saying it for the sake of my employer because I know he never will.

Allow me to explain. My name is Henry; I have worked at Mr. Smith’s Antiques, Rarities, and Oddities for the last three years. A decent size shop in downtown Manhattan that carries a miscellany of all things old. Some of which are this world’s most exotic and dangerous artifacts. While the owner may look like a crazed madman in his late forties on his good days, the truth is Mr. Smith is a genuine, or more accurately was a god.

According to Mr. Smith, he lost his standing as a god along with his entire Pantheon in what he refers to as the Oblivion Point. Don’t bother asking; I have tried on several occasions, but he never seems to want to talk about it.

“The world would be better off without gods.” He says and to prove his statement he walks around town wearing his usual ’Go Atheist’ T-shirt and getting in shouting matches with the local clergy. Odd behavior for someone who was a god himself. I digress, what is important is the hurricanes.

Among the artifacts that should be labeled dangerous is none other than the Thunderbolt of Zeus. The crazy up part of all this is that Mr. Smith does not keep the thing locked it in a vault; not even behind a glass case. In his godly wisdom, Mr. Smith keeps a literal ‘God Weapon’ hanging on the wall next to a window. The only security that he seems to have put on up is a ‘Don’t Ask’ sign.

Apparently, Mr. Smith has had the Bolt for quite some time and each year around the Summer Solstice, it never happens on the same day exactly, Mr. Smith will run out of the back of the store in a crazed sprint yelling.

“Henry, lock the door, that bearded pervert is back.” Never have figured out how he knows when Zeus is coming and which form he is taking, he is a shape changer after all.

Last year Zeus appeared as a girl from my old college, cheerleader uniform and all with a cup of coffee from my favorite shop. She approached as I turned the lock on the door. She waved innocently saying that she missed me, I had never talked to this girl before. That did not seem to bother her, asking me if she could come in for “hot coffee.”

I very politely told her that we were closed and we could meet at the coffee shop in an hour. If she wasn’t Zeus I was not passing this opportunity up, I mean a cheerleader; come on. She was persistent, and her movements were getting more sensual by the moment. It wasn’t until Mr. Smith came up to the door and yelled at her to procreate with a goat that she started hitting the door with the strength of a bull elephant. Don’t worry the glass door won’t break, it never does.

All I could do at this point was sigh, all illusions that she was human were gone in a flash of thunder and lightening as she pummeled away on my hopes and dreams. After close to an hour of a screaming and profanity match between the two deities, Zeus storms off and vows to rain down death and destruction upon us for our disrespect.

The next several months is spent by me minding the shop during the big storms of the season. Mr. Smith takes this time to stand outside in the middle of the street wearing big yellow rain boots, shorts, and his ‘Go Atheist’ t-shirt.’ All the while shaking an unopened umbrella and shouting at the sky. This shouting match of theirs  will go on for months or until Zeus gets bored and the storms stop. I guess that you can tell when our slow season is.

I asked Mr. Smith a couple of times how it all started between him and Zeus. Each time he gives me a raised eyebrow and something along the lines of “Oh who remembers?”

“Why not just give him the bolt back then?” I would follow up.

“Because that pervert would probably use it for something phallic. Now stop asking questions and go polish the clocks.” I go back to my earlier statement; gods are selfish and unreasonable.

On the other hand behind all their stubbornness, arrogance, and at times being so unbearable that you want to take a particular famous Thunderbolt and throw it at their head so that they will listen to reason for five minutes. They are still our best chance for survival against the horrors that lurk in the shadows.

So here it goes, to the best of my knowledge the details written here are true according to my perspective. If you don’t believe that there is anything more to this world than what you see posted in science weekly, then I hope that this will be an entertaining story for you. However, if you do believe that is more than what meets the eye. Take heed in what are on this pages because one day the same could happen to you.

















Next Chapter: Chapter 1