Creative Writing, Writing

100 Days of Flash Fiction: Day 7

Another shorter piece. This one came out a lot darker than everything else I’ve written so far. The initial idea I had was a bit more lighthearted, but as I started thinking more about the character of Van and the setting I’d created something a lot darker came to mind and I ran with it. It was definitely a fun piece to write and one I’m going to revisit next weekend. Anyway, here’s Day 7:


Prompt: “There were 48,000 gods in their mythology…”

IMHENOTEP

Dumping the egregiously heavy sacks on the ground beside him Van opened the smaller of the two and pulled out a well-worn shovel. Scanning the graveyard to be sure it was still empty, he went to work.

Thud.
Thud.
Thud.

There were 48,000 gods in their mythology and not one of them for fertility. It was almost too good to be true, but Van had triple checked. The gods in his homeland were both petty and merciless after all, and he didn’t want to chance it with the ones here lest they be the same.

Thud.
Thud.
Thud.

He’d been lucky to find this town. Plagued by a recent string of miscarriages and a bad crop yield, it had been an easy target. All he’d had to do to secure his position was teach the savages the basics of irrigation, and have them boil their water before drinking—a cleansing ritual in the name of Imhenotep, the goddess of harvests and childbirth he’d created.

Thud.
Thud.
Thud.

In a few months time, he’d been proclaimed a prophet—anointed by the Goddess Imhenotep as her vessel on Earth—and provided with everything he wanted. No, Van corrected himself as he kept digging, deserved. Wicking sweat from his eyes, he readjusted his grip on the shovel before digging it deeper into the earth and throwing more dirt to the side.

Thud.
Thud.
Thud.

If only she had stayed silent, Van tightened his grip on the shovel, none of this would have had to happen. A phony Lia had called him. She’d brought him before the entire town and called him a thief and a liar. A sacrilegious swindler.

Thud.
Thud.
Thud.

Taking a moment to flex his fingers, Van recalled the feeling of his hands around the Lia’s neck. Much softer than the shovel. He mused to himself. He’d only had to hold her for a few minutes until she stopped moving and then the deed was done. His position was secure.

Thud.
Thud.
Thud.

“She brought it on herself,” Van whispered the words. “48,000 gods, who cares if I added just one more?” He took a vicious stab into the open grave. “Call me a charlatan?” He sneered as he dragged the larger bag towards the hole before kicking it over the edge with his heel. “We surely belong to Imhenotep and to Her we shall return.” Van smirked as he drew a crescent moon in the air to complete the ritual he’d dreamed up alongside Imhenotep.

He picked up the shovel and went back to work. Burying her alongside the others.

Thud.
Thud.
Thud.

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