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It was during the left turn of my 19th year that I discovered how to make God appear to me. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it was supposed to be. I just closed my eyes and wished.
He’s handsome and he wears a pink suit. I was a little shocked at first, especially at his sailor’s mouth and the cigarettes. He smells like cookie dough. I’ve gotten used to it over time. I’m 32 now. We’ve had many adventures.
He’s told me how to stay off of the FBI’s computers and how to evade capture by Interpol. He’s showed me how to get deep into the folds of the CIA’s classified files. I’ve had a rummage in the secrets of all the world leaders. God’s been at my side all the time. He’s there when I need him.
I've been building an object in the back of my van for the last ten years. It's nearly operational. I don’t stay in the same place for too long. God has been helping me by putting the celestial blueprints directly into my mind. It’s only a case of finding the right materials after that. It’s taking a long time.
The blood of children works best as fuel. The more terrified they are when they’re being drained, the better. Pets go missing in the neighbourhoods I drive through as well.
The reason I’ve gone so deep into the top-secret government computers is that I’ve stolen uranium and plutonium for the heart of the thing. I can’t afford to get caught. I’m invisible to CCTV cameras and my driver’s license will never raise a red flag on a police computer.
There’s a cage of titanium surrounding it. I’ve become a killer in the process of creating it. The eyes surrounding it’s metal razored beak stare forward and empty. It stinks of terror. The arms and tentacles of the thing are hanging limply on the floor of the van.
But not for long.
It’ll achieve sentience in seventeen hours, God says. He also says that I’ve done a good job. Space will fold and this beast will roughly slouch out of the back of my van to start its mission when I turn it on. The world will change quite quickly after that, says God. I will be rewarded.
I am not alone, says God. He says that there are more people like me scattered across the world that he’s talking to. Hundreds. Can you guess how many?
My ragged fingernails rasp across the on switch, waiting for the countdown clock to hit zero. I'm smiling. God loves me. God loves me. God loves me.
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He’s handsome and he wears a pink suit. I was a little shocked at first, especially at his sailor’s mouth and the cigarettes. He smells like cookie dough. I’ve gotten used to it over time. I’m 32 now. We’ve had many adventures.
He’s told me how to stay off of the FBI’s computers and how to evade capture by Interpol. He’s showed me how to get deep into the folds of the CIA’s classified files. I’ve had a rummage in the secrets of all the world leaders. God’s been at my side all the time. He’s there when I need him.
I've been building an object in the back of my van for the last ten years. It's nearly operational. I don’t stay in the same place for too long. God has been helping me by putting the celestial blueprints directly into my mind. It’s only a case of finding the right materials after that. It’s taking a long time.
The blood of children works best as fuel. The more terrified they are when they’re being drained, the better. Pets go missing in the neighbourhoods I drive through as well.
The reason I’ve gone so deep into the top-secret government computers is that I’ve stolen uranium and plutonium for the heart of the thing. I can’t afford to get caught. I’m invisible to CCTV cameras and my driver’s license will never raise a red flag on a police computer.
There’s a cage of titanium surrounding it. I’ve become a killer in the process of creating it. The eyes surrounding it’s metal razored beak stare forward and empty. It stinks of terror. The arms and tentacles of the thing are hanging limply on the floor of the van.
But not for long.
It’ll achieve sentience in seventeen hours, God says. He also says that I’ve done a good job. Space will fold and this beast will roughly slouch out of the back of my van to start its mission when I turn it on. The world will change quite quickly after that, says God. I will be rewarded.
I am not alone, says God. He says that there are more people like me scattered across the world that he’s talking to. Hundreds. Can you guess how many?
My ragged fingernails rasp across the on switch, waiting for the countdown clock to hit zero. I'm smiling. God loves me. God loves me. God loves me.
tags