‘Welcome to the presence of God,’ the voice boomed, and the scientist trembled quietly to himself. He hated these visits.
The large doors opened, and with a heavy sigh, the scientist walked through. The creature calling himself ‘God’ sat on his black throne, his face shrouded in shadow. His leathery skin was dull in the light, contrasting with the living metal protrusions that covered his form.
‘Finally, scientist. I dislike waiting for you.’ His voice hissed ominously, ‘Maybe you require further modifying?’
‘What is your will, Lord?’ said the scientist, bowing low to hide his feelings.
‘I will create a perfect human.’
The confused scientist struggled to guess what was soon to be required of him. ‘But you have already modified humans beyond recognition. What more can you do to us?’
‘You misunderstand me, human.’ God rose and walked to his benches of equipment. The scientist tried to avoid looking at the naked people shackled to the walls, living forms of Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man.
‘In all humans exists the potential for corruption and negative desires. I also know there is charity and selflessness. The positive and negative are mixed, so I will distil these properties into separate humans.’ God looked down at the scientist. ‘We have created functional modifications for my armies, and others for my playthings. Now, I am ready to be compassionate. I will be God the creator, and the future will be populated by glorious and shining examples of humanity.’ He laughed quietly to himself, while the scientist looked up in amazement.
‘How will you do this?’
‘I will discover what makes the baser human, the complete degenerate, and then I will know how to create perfection as its mirror image.’
The scientist sighed. He was foolish to expect more from this alien creature. When the Earth fell to his invasion, the experiments that followed created waves of abominations, programmed with alien desires. Armies of hideously modified humans controlled the planet, many barely resembled their origins.
God held his hand over the face of a female prisoner, his eyes shut. The scientist knew he was scanning her DNA, ready to begin his new genetic experiments. Next would come the vessels for modification, imbued with the spark of creation from Earth’s God. Bodies to be watched over by the scientist to assess their value and report back. He was desperately tired from years of this process. If he could not use his weapon soon, he would not have the will to continue.
The scientist had been modified to help God in the act of creation; he alone possessed the skills to begin the fight. The last role of the scientist was to destroy God. His weapon had once been human too, but he would soon lead the revolt. God sat in Heaven, and would soon fall at the hand of the scientist’s finest creation. Lucifer Godsbane, the last hope of humanity.
Constructive criticism welcome.
© 2008 Damian Herde