original

Killing God

นักเขียน: NIHILA

บท 1: The Test

The rusty playground was filled with the usual assortment of dodgy characters. They shuffled around, muttering and swearing under their breath, casting furtive glances at each other. But amidst this chaos, a woman and her daughter played on the swing, laughing and giggling, oblivious to their surroundings.

Ismael, a middle-aged man with a burnt right arm and prosthetic legs, watched them intently from the side of the playground. His face was torn by shrapnel that led to one of his eyes turning white. His eyes wandered around, scanning every drunken lowlife that loitered around the playground.

The girl climbed up a heavy old fashioned slide but stopped halfway. She looked out at Ismael and smiled. The woman grabbed her daughter's hand and reassured her, "Don't worry, Daddy is watching over you, as always."

A man in a hoodie walked towards Ismael, completely engrossed in his phone. He bumped into Ismael, who didn't take kindly to the slight. "Watch where you go, cripple," the hooded man sneered.

Ismael's stoic face turned into a mask of rage as he reached for the gun tucked into his belt. The little girl called out, "Daddy!"

Ismael's face suddenly changed as he realized the futility of his anger. He turned to his girl, and a happy smile took over his face. The girl started to slide down the slide, and her mother held her hand on the side. Ismael beamed with pride as his little girl conquered her fear.

But their moment of joy was short-lived. A loud shrieking sound pierced the air, and the rusty metal of the slide gave way. The slide collapsed towards Ismael's wife, who was still holding onto their daughter's hand.

Ismael watched in horror as the heavy metal covered up both of them with a loud thud that sent dust up from the ground.

Ismael's heart pounded as he tried to lift the slide from his daughter. But it wouldn't budge, the weight of the slide proved too much for him. He screamed and lifted with all his might, but the slide remained firmly in place. His little girl's hand was peaking out from the rubble. He managed to pull her out, but she was motionless.

"No, no, no!" Ismael shuddered as he touched her neck, trying to find a pulse. He listened to her chest, hoping to hear a heartbeat, but there was none. He laid her down on the ground and started performing CPR, first at a normal speed, and then faster and stronger. But it was all for nothing, as she didn't come back from the dead.

Ismael broke down, crying, as he held his daughter's lifeless body in his arms.

"My love," his wife called out from the rubble, her face twisted in pain.

Ismael rushed to lift the slide that had trapped his wife, but as he did so, his wife cried out in agony. A broken metal pipe had pierced her chest, and Ismael felt helpless as he struggled to free her. "Don't worry, darling," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Everything will be okay."

As he let go of the slide, he fumbled for his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed 911. The line rang and rang, and Ismael's panic mounted as he waited for someone to answer.

Finally, a dispatcher picked up. "911, what is your emergency?" the voice on the other end asked.

"There's been an accident at the First Prayer playground," Ismael said, his words tumbling out in a rush. "We need immediate medical assistance. One of us has no heartbeat, and we have a wounded."

"Okay, are you in any relationship with them?"

"What is that question? Just hurry up! We don't have time for this!

The dispatcher's voice was calm as she asked for more information, but Ismael could hear the frustration in her tone. "Calm down, sir, and answer my questions," she said.

"Calm down? CALM DOWN?" Ismael's anger rose, and he shouted into the phone. "Send the f*cking ambulance immediately!"

"Sir, you have to calm down," the dispatcher repeated, but Ismael could hear the exasperation in his voice.

"How much time until the medics arrive?" Ismael demanded.

"Sir, we don't have any free medical response teams at the moment," the dispatcher said. "It will take about half an hour."

Ismael's heart sank as he heard the news. He let the phone slip from his hand, and it clattered to the ground beside him. Panic and fear washed over him as he looked around, desperately seeking help. But there was no one there, no one to come to their aid.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. "Remember your training," he whispered to himself, taking deep breaths. But there was nothing in his training for this situation.

"How is our girl?" his wife asked, her voice weak.

"She's okay," Ismael said, dropping to the ground beside her. He reached through the broken metal to hold her hand. "Just worry about yourself."

"Take care of our daughter, and of yourself," his wife said, her voice barely a whisper.

"We'll take care of her together," Ismael promised, but his wife's eyes closed, and her hand went limp in his grasp.

Ismael broke down, his body wracked with sobs as he held his wife's lifeless hand. "Don't you dare to leave me alone," he cried out. But there was no response.

He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath, looking up at the sky. "Why is this happening to me?" he shouted as loud that the nearby building windows were shaken, his voice filled with pain and rage.

Those around him, who had remained to watch the incident with sick curiosity, now scattered, scared shitless hearing this almost otherworldly sound. Ismael was left alone with his grief, struggling to make sense of what had just happened.

"Oh God, why is this happening to me?" he sobbed uncontrollably on his knees, both his hands limp on his side.

Suddenly, a light shined on him that he didn't realize in his pain. The clouds opened up in the sky, and figures started to appear while descending. On the left side was a young man with wings, covered in the finest bandages like cloth, wielding a flute. On the right was a middle-aged guy with wings and golden armor, carrying a mighty sword. In the middle was an old guy with a comforting smile on his face.

They descended from the light until they touched the ground in front of Ismael. As the right one's armor clanked, Ismael wiped his tears away to see what was happening.

"Oh my god," said Ismael.

The old guy stepped in front. "Yes, my child, it is I. We come to comfort you in your loss with my two best angels, Ariel and Michael," said God. Ariel, the angel on the left, smiled, but it was not a comforting smile. Michael on the right scoffed.

"I don't understand," babbled Ismael.

"Why we came? Because I have high hopes for you. Just as Noah, you have been chosen to be tested," said God.

Ismael was frozen, looking at God.

God stepped to Michael and leaned to whisper to him. "What is he doing?" asked God.

"I don't know. But why are we even here, my father?" asked an annoyed Michael.

"Because I am losing believers left and right like flies. And crazy veterans make good prophets. At least that's what I heard," whispered God.

Ismael shook off his stun. "Tested?" asked Ismael.

"Yes, my son. You have to carry my teachings even through every hardship of life," said God.

"Tested? I fought wars for you and my country," Ismael said through his teeth.

"Common misconception. I have nothing to do with most of the wars," jokingly said God, winking at Ariel, who just kept that smug smile.

"And this is what I get for it?" asked Ismael.

"Oh, my child, my plans are incomprehensible to you," said God.

"You planned this? Why?" Furious anger blazed up in Ismael.

"You will know in good time," said God.

"No, tell me why now... Or I will kill you!" God and Ariel chuckled at this.

"How dare you, measly human?" Michael pointed his sword at Ismael.

God just pushed it down with his hand. "They are not perfect, Michael, they are not like you, angels," said God.

"You have taken away from me what is most important to me. For your entertainment. So, in return, I will take away what is most important to you," said Ismael, pointing a finger toward God's face.

Ismael stood up, his anger still boiling inside him. He didn't know why God had put him through this pain and loss, but he knew that he couldn't just stand there and take it.

Ismael pulled the handgun out of his belt and advanced toward the three, his movements quick and precise. With rapid fire, he aimed for each head and chest of the beings in front of him. His shots were perfect, deadly enough to kill any human instantly. But the figures standing before him were not mere humans. The bullets bounced off them harmlessly, and they were passing through God without leaving a scratch.

"That tickled," chuckled Ariel.

Ismael continued to pull the trigger furiously, but his gun only clicked because it was empty. He finally stopped and threw the weapon to the ground, charging towards God with raised fists.

Michael, stepped in front of God with his sword drawn, ready to defend him. However, Ariel was quicker, appearing beside Ismael as if he had teleported and kicking out Ismael's two prosthetic legs from under him. Ismael spanned through the air and crashed to the ground, his legs falling beside him.

"Didn't you know that you shouldn't step on landmines? You silly," Ariel chided.

Ismael didn't stop even after this, he crawled towards God, his hands grabbing the ground with so much force that his nails began to bleed. God shook his head pathetically and turned away.

"We should punish him for his blasphemy," suggested Michael.

"He is already in hell," said God, ascending into the sky, with Ariel following closely behind.

"You can't run away! I will kill you!" Ismael shouted after them.

Michael looked down at the crawling Ismael with a disgusted expression on his face, flapping his wings to follow his father.

With a last effort of revolt, Ismael raised his head and gathered all his power. He spat after God, the projectile flying towards him. Michael noticed it with the corner of his eye and raised his wing to block it. The spit splashed onto his fabulous feathers.

Michael landed in front of Ismael, his sword drawn and his eyes blazing with anger. "You filthy humans don't deserve to be born of God and enjoy his gifts," he spat.

"Shove his gifts up your ass," Ismael retorted.

Michael's eyes bulged with rage. "There is a special place in hell for those like you who are against God," he declared, swirling his sword that flamed up, then he stabbed the ground with it. "Hope you enjoy it...for eternity!"

The ground beneath Ismael began to shake and crumble away, flames rising from the cracks. The rubble formed a circle, spinning around Ismael until there was nothing left beneath him. He grabbed his prosthetic legs in the final moments before he fell down the fiery pit.

"We two will meet soon," Ismael shouted as he disappeared into the fiery abyss.