The God Complex: The Book Of Alan, Destroyer Of Worlds

Chapter Five

"BREAKING 'S NEWS' ALERT: Scientists confirm that Abaddon Industries is officially not responsible for the end of the world. In a statement from President Abaddon's minister for the department of Energy and Climate change, he said: 'This planet was never fit for purpose and a disaster like this was waiting to happen, if anything, President Abaddon has done more than anyone to delay the inevitable. He truly is Earth's last great hero'."

Susan turned off the television and put down her pen to massage her aching wrist. Alan had been relentlessly dictating his bible since they got back to her bungalow some eighteen hours ago:

'Pick yourself up Susan the Unworthy, find your parchment and pen and take down my immortal words,' he'd begun.

Susan was still cowering in the corner. The infinite vacuum of space made her bungalow feel a lot smaller than usual. 'But my creator,' she stammered, 'I can't do this, I don't know how.'

'You have been chosen, Susan the unworthy.' Darwin pecked open his cage and fluttered awkwardly towards Susan. 'You must do this. There can be no turning back, there can be no giving up. The fate of your people is in your hands.'

Susan did her best to stop those hands from relentlessly trembling. 'Oh my,' she said softly. Taking a measured breath, she picked herself up from the floor and dusted herself down. Marching to the cabinet at the far corner of her dining room, she grabbed a notepad and pen and made herself comfortable at the dining room table. 'Right, what do I need to do?'

The feathered form of Darwin clattered onto the table in front of her, muttering something about 'a ridiculous design' before picking himself up to address Susan directly. 'I am not an unreasonable deity. To forgive your species and spare them an eternity of unspeakable suffering, I only require half of your population to show they believe in my majestic divinity. Prayers are all well and good but the real money is in the mortal sacrifice, that's what separates the Gods from the Celestial trainees. To take something that has meaning and say the words: "I make this sacrifice in the name of Alan", and mean it, well, that carries some weight upstairs if you know what I mean?'

Susan had positively no idea what he meant but persevered anyway out of crippling politeness. 'So if I get over half the population to make a sacrifice in your name, you'll stop the world from ending?'

'Hmm? Far too late for that. No, this world is ending in six months no matter what. You dug that hole yourselves.'

'Oh,' said Susan as her heart quietly broke.

'But, if you can get over half your people to worship in my name, then I will rescue you from this destruction and welcome each of you into your own personal paradise.' In a flash of light and sound, Susan found herself transported back to a playground swing on a cold autumnal day. The sun was low, shimmering all it touched in a hazy golden aura. As she swung higher, the pull of gravity tingling through her, she looked back through glassy eyes at an early memory of her mother pushing her higher and higher. The sound of Susan's four-year-old laugh rang strange in her ears as she marvelled at how young and vibrant her mother looked. Her joy was uncontrolled, unbridled, pure.

'Your people have the chance to spend eternity lost in their happiest memories, but first they must believe in me, Susan the Unworthy. When they make their offerings and sacrifices, they must truly believe in me as their creator as they say my name, it can not be faked.'

Susan closed her eyes, lost forever in that moment, until, without warning, she found herself back at her dining room table. Exhilarated, she wiped the tears from her smiling face. 'Then let's go to Serpentine Media. Once they see you and what you can do, you'll be across every channel they have. Once people realise the choice they have, they will each worship you to a man.'