How I Killed God (I)

Last week, I killed God. Wait. Hold on, just let me explain. It all began on any old morning.

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8:20 am. The streets were crowded with people; Men, women, children, and the elderly, all rushing around their lives as I sat in my usual coffee shop, on my designated stool by the window observing the morning rush. The cluster of children donning their school uniforms gripped onto their backpacks as they skipped across the crosswalk. The neatly dressed businessmen and women; their black and navy custom-fitted suits snuggly wrapping around their figures as they dragged a leather suitcase in their hands.

I took a sip of my hot chocolate as the marshmallow bobbed and swayed in the brown liquid; a small veil of steam warming my slightly chapped lips. I glanced at the time on my watch. It was a smartwatch. The latest Apple Watch to be exact; well, the latest when I bought it last Christmas. A gift for myself. It's like giving yourself a pat on the back for not exactly doing a good job, but at least you tried.

My phone rang. Its little cheery jingle always put a smile on my lips as I hummed it out. It wasn't a custom jingle, but one of the defaults that came with the phone. That's actually why I bought this exact phone. I heard it somewhere once, and couldn't get it out of my head. Anyway, It was only until the last few notes before I hit the answer button. The desperate voice from the end bombarded my ears. "H-Hey, what took you so long?! It's me! I-Is, Is it done?"

I turned my head to the stacks of paper on the table. On one page, the words, "Exploring the Depths of Human Consciousness: Integrative Approaches in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy." were written in messy handwriting. My handwriting. The rest of the page. Blank. It seemed my procrastination issues were going to majorly drop my grades this semester.

"Will be done in the next 10 minutes," I said as I hung up, standing up from the table and piling up all the paper into a messy bundle, tossing them into my backpack. I glanced at my watch — quarter to nine. My eyes turned back to the streets as my target came into view. A slick black Cadillac SUV, followed by an entourage of six other identical black cars rolled down the asphalt. The windows were tinted a deep black. Most likely bullet-proof, no, the whole car was certainly bomb-proof. I tossed my bag onto my back as I strolled out of the coffee shop.

The pedestrians all stood gawking at the sight, their phones in hand as they filmed the impressive sight before them. I, on the other hand, had a different job to do.

Within one of those seven cars was my target. A multi-billionaire businessman who had found himself one too many enemies. I didn't hold a single grudge against him. Honestly, I didn't even know he existed until the day before, but a job was a job.

College is way too expensive to be unemployed. I swear it's just a pyramid scheme, but that's a topic for another day.

Now, the question was. How do I find which car he was in without being able to see inside?

The answer? Well, I wouldn't need to know if I destroyed all of them, right?

I clapped my hands together, revealing strings of black lightning erupting from my palms as I pulled them apart. How did I do that, you may wonder. Well. A magician never reveals their secret. Spoilers, we'll get to that part later.

Anyway. The charge on my lightning quickly grew as it sprung wildly around looking for an escape. I could hear the zaps ringing out around me as multiple eyes drew toward my direction. Mind you, all phones had probably been zapped out of power at this point. Their useless metal bricks dropped to the ground in panic as I finally felt it was enough. I clapped my hands back together and the sonic boom sent any movable object flying at least 50 metres away. The glass windows in the stores around me shattered like candy as eardrums burst, blood oozing out of every orifice as cars malfunctioned, bursting into flames before my very eyes. The absolute chaos was an absolute treat to witness. Easily over 200 people dead in a single second.

I skipped forward, approaching the last car in the entourage, and glanced through the cracked window. Slightly impressed it hasn't shattered, but nope. Not this one. I strolled to the next one. Nope. The one after that, zilch. It would be awkward if he wasn't in any of these cars, hm? 250 dead, yeah. 250 might have been a better estimate. All dead for no reason.

Well, lucky for me. There he was in the fourth car up. His unsightly face bloated in crimson red as blood poured out every hole in his body, including the pores in his skin. His Brioni suit was shredded by either the glass, car frame, sonic boom, lightning, or fire. I couldn't exactly tell. But, one thing was for sure, his obese body was truly not something I had on my bucket list for this year, much less my lifetime.

"Ewh," I let out a shiver, as I examined him. Yep, he was dead. Mission complete. I dug through his pockets, fishing out an expensive, presumably expensive phone. Well, it certainly looked expensive. Many-a bling. I tapped it to no response. I must have fried it. I let out a small electrical charge, turning it back on like a charm. Battery at full charge even. I should try that more often.

I pinched open the bloated man's eyes, successfully bypassing the FaceID.

"Say… Cheese," I murmured, snapping a pic of his corpse and sending it to the client, "Job complete,"

Letting out a stretch, I strolled away. Another day, another shift done.

But, wait. You may be shouting at me. You didn't explain how you killed God. Don't worry. I'm getting to it.