Within A God's Mind

This is a short story that takes you into the twisted mind of a man called Lucius. It's up to you to determine whether it's all in his head, or in fact, something much more terrifying.

Looking down at his hands, he alone saw the great potential they held. The hands of a god, with which he could take down an entire civilization with a mere flick of the wrist, or send the seas into a swirling vortex that caused even the bravest of sailors to quiver with fear. Yes, he would soon have that power, that was undeniable. He was strong, too strong, to be nothing more than a mortal roaming this blasted Earth. Unquestionable it would be that he should find himself upon a golden throne, seated high above any other. Oh yes, the mere thought of it gave him chills. He shall have his reign. Lucius looked up now, gazing at his surroundings with little interest. How boring this place was! Nothing of value, nothing to entertain him at all! Everything was so bland and tiresome. He was growing angry, being trapped inside such a boring room for as long as he has, it’s unjust! He should be out there ruling over his kind and all the others that walked this dreadful planet. It would simply not do to remain in this horrible, padded room any longer. Yes, he nodded to himself, he’ll get himself out of here, whether they help him to or not.

He straightened himself as best as he could and stood up slowly. His body was growing weaker, his legs, which were once strong enough to kick an ox over, would now hardly hold his own weight. This room has been draining him! How dare they try to take his power from him! His power, so unlimited, so fearsome and mighty, drained from him so easily? No, this simply would not do.

“I demand to be released!” Lucius cried out through the small window in his door. He waited for a response of some sort; surely a scream or an accidental spill of some sort of fancy equipment would be justified in their rush to meet his demands. After all, he was their master, the one whom they bow down to every night and plead for his forgiveness. It was him that gave them all their peaceful dreams and their terrifying nightmares as he saw fit, he alone controlled every aspect of their pitiful existence, and it was high time they appreciated that fact.

“Now, now Lucy, you know you can’t go yelling like that. It scares the neighbors, remember? We had a talk about this just yesterday.” A stout woman with a round face appeared on the other side of the door. She was smiling smugly at him, practically throwing her self-righteousness in his face, as though he were a dog and she was his almighty owner. Lucius grimaced. He would not stand to be treated like a dog!

“I’ve stayed here long enough, now it is time for me to embrace the world I rightfully rule. Now if you would be so kind as to give me the key to my release, I shall spare your life.” He told her, expecting her to rush to his aid immediately. After all, who could deny their god in need? But she merely smiled at him, pitying him. This only enraged Lucius further. He would not be the source of their pity! They should pity themselves and the horrible lives they claim to lead.

“Oh Lucius, you could always make me laugh. I’ll be back in an hour with your lunch, alright?” And with that she walked away, humming some simple tune to herself. Lucius had half a mind to shout after her, but he could see a lost cause when it had the nerve to slap him across the face.

“Fair enough,” He muttered to himself, moving away from the door and rummaging through the drawer next to his miniscule bed. “It appears as though I’ll have to get out on my own.” He finally found what he was looking for. Smiling, he pulled out a small leather-bound notebook and a black crayon. The simpletons had taken his pen away the first day he was imprisoned here. The magic wouldn’t work as well without it, but the crayon would have to do. He sat down on his cot and began to write feverishly, a slightly crazed look in his eye now. He would kill them all, every last ungrateful peasant that kept him locked in here. And then he would walk through the door, with no one to stop him, no one to look at him with the maddening, pitiful eyes. The day has come for him to take his throne and rule this world. This day… Lucius stopped suddenly. Something inside of him burned with the fiery intensity of hell’s fire. He put a hand to his chest slowly. Why he could feel the heat coming out of him, radiating through him as though he were about to explode! Gasping, he looked down at his notebook, his eyes widening in horror as he did so. There was something different about it, just a slight difference that would change everything. The b******s! They’d reversed it somehow, instead of killing them; he’d just written the words ensuring his own death.

The fire within him was growing, he couldn’t breathe. With his last ounce of strength, he let out a strangled cry. But it would do him no good now. The blackness was encasing him. Soon, he could see nothing but the darkness. As he stared into the shadows, he noticed that he was no longer ensnared by flames. So the deed is done. He couldn’t help it, he started laughing. Those fools, they would be lost without him now! He was dead and they would soon perish in his absence. He lay on the black ground and laughed and laughed. Lucius is dead. He is dead and soon the world would be too.

Reviews

[Ed Fagan]

Nice job on this. I'd like to believe it wasn't in his head. That he transcended into a new dimension or place in time ... a new world, to continue his rule.

[Elizabeth Cook]

It's all about perspective :) I'm glad you like it!