Content warning: dissociation
It was Leavitt's turn to awaken to the vast expanse of light, though matters would take a rather different turn to those which Magnolia would experience. Leavitt could feel his now non-existent heart quicken. He could not perceive any of his surroundings, but he felt the urge to scream and cower and grow violent. Was he in Hell? Of course he was. Where else would a man as despicable as himself be sent after death? He did believe Hell would be a great deal darker than this, though, and a great deal louder and hotter. Could it be that Hell was a punishment of the psyche as opposed to the corporal?
"SEND ME THE GODS!" cried Leavitt, still unable to perceive his surroundings.
"I'm right here, Leavitt," said a familiar voice. Was this the voice which had emanated from the mysterious objects which had flown through the sky? What did it matter? Leavitt would torture the wretched deity until he screamed and wept and begged for mercy! "Hell isn't real, by the way, and this person next to me is Pat. They're another god. Use they/them pronouns when talking about them, please. And no, you're not going to Heaven because I have some other plans right now."
Hell not being real? They/them pronouns? Leavitt wondered if Pat was a conglomeration of various holy beings working in unison to form a ginormous god of sorts, rather like the cells of which mortal beings consisted, except that they possessed sentience. He also wondered what the devil happened to corrupted souls such as himself.
"No, Pat isn't multiple people," Zeus explained. "They're only one person, but they don't really identify with being a man or a woman, so please respect that. If you want to disrespect people, you're always welcome to scream ideas of how to torture people into the sky so I can have fun with them! Disrespect is always fun unless it comes to Pat's gender."
Leavitt's surroundings began to shift into focus, and he saw two pairs of legs before the most elaborate sofa he had ever set his eyes upon. His face was pressed against a vast mosaic upon the floor, and he could feel something furry against his leg, something which was presumably a rug. He looked upwards, and he saw a man who resembled Zeus, and a person who did not seem to consist of multiple people in the slightest. "I shall bloody murder you," Leavitt snarled, glaring at Zeus.
"Oh, you stupid man!" Zeus laughed. "Don't you realise that gods are immortal? Still, it'll be good entertainment."
"I shall find a way!" Leavitt declared. "I shall find your greatest weakness, and I shall make use of that in my battle against your tyranny!"
"Yeah, about that..."
"We need to talk about your tyranny first," Pat interjected. "You've been ripping apart families, destroying lives, and you don't seem to care about that anywhere near as much as you should."
"Yeah!" concurred Zeus. "It's been fun watching you, but we need to move on to the next phase now."
"Zeus, for fuck's sake..."
"What?"
"Do you know why I've been committing these acts of tyranny?" Leavitt demanded. "Do you know why I've been murdering innocent people? Do you know why I've been committing acts of theft? IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF YOUR BLOODY WICKEDNESS! CEASE YOUR WICKEDNESS, AND I SHALL CEASE MY CRIMES!"
"Sorry," yawned Zeus, looking down at the rabid surgeon nonchalantly, "but I'm afraid I can't do that. You see, that wouldn't be much fun, would it?"
Leavitt screamed and leapt at Zeus's throat. Zeus sent him flying across the room with a mere click of his fingers.
"There's no point in trying that," Zeus told him. "I'll only send you flying again. Why don't you take a seat so we can talk about this properly?"
"I SHAN'T OBEY A SINGLE COMMAND OF YOURS, YOU PITIFUL BEAST!"
YOU ARE READING
Leavitt Stafford and the Awful, Terrible, Not Very Nice Plan.
Historical FictionThe year is 1865 and Leavitt Stafford, an intelligent and highly eccentric gentleman, has formed a most outrageous plan to battle God. This plan is so dreadfully immoral that you shan't believe your eyes! As this unspeakable plan progresses, the lif...