Sunday, October 07, 2007
In R'lyeh, Jesus Walks
Here's the opening of my short story “In R’lyeh, Jesus Walks”:
Read the rest In Coach’s Midnight Diner, available at Amazon or publisher-direct. “In R’lyeh, Jesus Walks” was the winner in CMD’s Jesus vs. Cthulhu short story competition.
The light in the throne room turned sour, changing gold to brass. At the foot of the dais, angels caught the cue and shifted their praises to a minor key.Not exactly orthodox, but fun (I hope).
Jesus turned to his left. “He’s waking up.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” the Father replied―their old joke along with “another day, another ten cents on the dollar”―but the light and the music lent a sadness that while perhaps unintentional, was certainly not untrue.
As Jesus walked down the steps in front of his throne, the angels parted but never halted their song.
“Son,” a voice called out from behind him, “take Lucifer with you.”
Alabaster pillars and niches lined the Hall of History, displaying bittersweet mementos from their endeavors to turn men’s hearts and minds to something greater than themselves. Zeus and Apollo, Odin and Thor, and down the hall it went: guises worn until mankind’s embellishment rendered them moot. As poorly as things often went with the Hebrew prophets and priests, at least they hadn’t strayed far from the visions revealed to them. Jesus grabbed a breastplate, red cape, and winged hat; the black leather breeches he put on both legs at once. After lacing up his boots, he hoisted Mjolnir, the Norse battle hammer, over his shoulder and headed down to Earth.
Lucifer was pacing outside Marquam Hall in the Old Boston Convention Center. The devil―crimson, goat-horned, and pointy-tailed―was livid. You didn’t need to be omniscient to figure that out.
“ ‘Come as you are,’ you said. ‘No pitchfork,’ you said ... and then you show up looking like―” Lucifer’s scaly hide burned blood red and his spade-tipped tail twitched like a copperhead unsure where to strike. And he’d tried so hard, so long, to convince mankind that this wasn’t what he really looked like. “What’s going on?”
“Comic book convention. Don’t worry―they’ll think you’re something out of Legend, or maybe a Jack Chick fan. Come on.”
The main auditorium was packed: folding tables crowded with pictures―pre-autographed and not―bankers boxes full of plastic-bagged comic books, action figures, t-shirts. The walkways were just as full with collectors, gawkers, and fans―not to mention the people in costume: the trio of Ghostbusters, the guy in biker leathers and Ghost Rider mask, the twenty-something Wonder Woman holding a pug dog dressed in a miniature Men in Black suit. Thor, god of thunder, fit right in as he eased his way through the narrow aisles. Mjolnir rumbled softly as it swung by his side.
Jesus smiled. All the heroes―action heroes, superheroes, the ordinary become something more―unstoppable. Humanity re-creating itself as it might have been, maybe even ought to have been. Virtue as distinct as logos emblazoned on primary-colored spandex.
Read the rest In Coach’s Midnight Diner, available at Amazon or publisher-direct. “In R’lyeh, Jesus Walks” was the winner in CMD’s Jesus vs. Cthulhu short story competition.
Mikesell
