Cryptic Fiction

Welcome to Cryptic Fiction, a place where the unexpected becomes the expected. Here you will discover the limits of the imagination, with a dash of darkness to spice things up. Break boundaries, explore the extreme, and journey to the other side. Here you will find angels, demons, monsters, and paradoxes in time that will challenge your senses. Walk through the gates of the unknown. Step out of the day and smile at the night. Don't worry, the night will smile back. It's been waiting for you your entire life...​​
And God Called - Volume 2
I was stunned. Standing there in my kitchen with a slack-jawed expression on my Saturday morning, Grizzly Adams, stubble infested face. I could literally feel the Earth turning on its axis beneath me, a dizzying sensation to say the least. It was like balancing yourself on the head of pin that was then balanced on a house of cards that was standing atop one of those creepy Barnum & Bailey fucked up circus clowns with a bad case of the clap. Because if I was to believe what just happened to me then I was talking to God, and God had asked me to become his new…?

“Devil, what are you talking about?”

“You heard me,” replied God, still speaking in a voice that was both male and female at the same time.

“God, why do you sound that way?” I asked. “Like both a man and a woman.”

“Well,” replied God, “actually I’m just whispering to you and being polite. Besides I thought this was fitting. After all I am both male and female, and I am neither.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you honestly think that when I declared that man was, ‘made in our image’ that meant the literal form of a man?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I never really thought about it.”

“You see, that’s the basic problem with humans. You always talk about thinking outside the box, but you actually do very little of it in any meaningful way.”

“With all due respect,” I replied, making certain that my tone was reverent. “I still don’t understand.” I began scratching at my arms involuntarily, still able to feel the hairy legs of the scorpions that had covered me a few moments earlier. The echoing sensation made me shiver.

“Of course you don’t, Joshua,” God replied. “Sufficed to say the term, ‘man’ refers to human qualities that reflect my own. You were created with the same capacity to feel, think, and unfortunately, sin.”

“You sin?”

God laughed, a sound that chilled me to the bone. “Sin is a point of view Joshua, a concept. And don’t try to debate the issue with me. How many times have humans waged war and murdered hundreds of thousands of their fellow brothers and sisters in my name, and all under the guise of preserving life and the greater good. Too many times for me to list all of them right now, we just don’t have the time I’m afraid. So please, spare me your vaunted human platitudes of good versus evil. I know where your mind is on this, and you’re likely to just irritate me further by claiming some moral high ground that you never occupied in the first place.”

I swallowed hard, licking my parched lips as I longed for a cup of coffee. “Okay, God.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone, denoting that God was becoming bored or frustrated. “If you must have what you expect then I suppose I must accommodate you,” said God. And the next moment I very nearly pissed myself as the walls of my house began to shake with the fury of God’s voice.

“Bow, yield and kneel before the Lord your God and Master! For I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; and I shall smite thee for thy offenses against me, Joshua! And didn’t you know that you could save hundreds of dollars on your car insurance by switching to Geico? Now let my people go!”

“Alright-alright-alright,” I shouted as I tried to keep my balance. “I’m sorry, God! I didn’t mean it as a test or anything! No need to go all Yul Brynner on me!”

God laughed hysterically and then said. “Yul Brynner, I thought I was doing Charlton Heston?”

Needless to say I was way too unnerved to argue with God as I watched my chandelier swing back and forth on its long golden chain. “Whatever you say, it was an excellent Charlton Heston.”

“I could have said, ‘Oh my God; I'm back...I'm home. All the time, it was...we finally really did it! You maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, damn you! God...damn you all to hell!’”

“Huh,” I laughed even though my nerves were shattered. “Planet of the Apes, that’s a good one God. But the reference to yourself isn’t that—you know—taking your name in vain?”

“I can talk about myself any way that I like, Joshua. It’s the benefit of being omnipotent, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand such a thing.”

I swallowed again and said, “Fair enough, God; but why the car insurance line?”

“Oh I just love that little gecko. It reminds me of a race of beings that I created about three-hundred-million years ago in another galaxy. And unlike most of you humans they all possessed an excellent sense of humor I might add.”

“Hey, I have a sense of humor,” I protested.

“Your sense of humor is base, morbid, and childlike. And please if I hear one more ‘which came first, the chicken or the egg’ joke, I’m going to crack the mantle of the Earth just for spite. Now I could tell you the greatest joke ever told but you’d die of laughter…literally. And I have to say that it’s a great one about a pair of pants and a pecker owned by a guy named Pete. And although I have to admit that your perception of me was marginally entertaining, we really should get back to business.”

“Perception, what perception?”

“You know, the one where I’m an old man in a laboratory looking through a microscope at the Milky Way Galaxy.”

My jaw dropped, as this was the final straw. It was the final nail in the coffin, and I knew that it was God on the other end of the phone.

“I told you, Joshua, I know everything about you. Everything you think and everything you dream and imagine is all an open book to me.”

“God, again no disrespect, but aren’t you a little liberal with your speech?”

“Do tell, Joshua,” God mocked. “I’m just breathless to hear this golden dumb-dumb bullet shoot from your pie-hole.”

I hesitated because I knew from very recent experience that this could get ugly, and quick. “Well, you did tell me that I could kiss my own ass a few minutes ago.”

“Joshua, did you ever hear the expression, ‘guns don’t kill people, people kill people’?”

I couldn’t believe that I actually stammered as I replied, “Y—yes.”

“It’s the same concept. A word is only a word until its assigned meaning. And besides I’m right, you do kiss ass…a lot.” God replied, taking extra care to annunciate the “T.”

“Okay,” I said, simply because I didn’t know what else to say.

“Now we only have a few moments left before the police arrive, so I want you to go to your front door right now.”

“Cops, why are the cops coming I didn’t do anything?”

“Well, Joshua,” said God, “I didn’t just shake your house, I shook an entire four blocks and everyone heard me just fine.”

“So why can’t you stop them? You’re God! You can do anything, right?”

“Of course I can, but I wanted to make this a little more interesting. You know, raise the stakes, in a manner of speaking. I need you to get off of your ass-kissing, I-Pod wearing, channel-surfing carcass, and make a decision. It’s time to shit or get off the pot my boy. Now go to the front door like I told you.”

I was terrified, but I did as I was told because I knew the consequences could be much worse if I declined. Walking slowly I left the kitchen and went down the wood paneled hallway and into the foyer. My front door wasn’t solid, but had a stained glass window that extended from a few inches above the top all the way down to about waist high.

As I approached I could see a shadow moving behind the multicolored glass. And the ice ran in thick rivulets down the length of my spine, causing my sack to shrivel up as my nuts attempted to use my ass as their own personal Holiday Inn Express.

“That a boy,” said God, urging me forward as my hand clutched the receiver for dear life. “Now open the door, Joshua.”

Turning the lock I grabbed the doorknob. The door creaked open on hinges that screamed for some lubrication and I found, “A little girl?” I said to God. She was small, and appeared to be no more than fourteen or fifteen years old at best. What was striking about her was that she was dressed from head to toe in a gothic outfit. Her face was covered in white makeup, black eyeliner and lipstick. She had several leather studded cuffs on each hand that were at least three sizes too big for her wrists, and clashed nicely with her collared white shirt, black petticoat, and black skirt.

She looked up at me and frowned as she crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s about time, asshole!” She said with a husky voice that made me think of Howdy Doody on crack.

“What’d you do, have a nice hot cup of choke-the-chicken before you got up and answered the damn door?”

“I’m sorry…?” I said, not understanding what this could possibly have to do with me becoming the next Devil.

The little girl’s frown deepened. “Yea, you’re sorry all right you fucking nimrod! Is that Him on the phone?”

I shook my head yes, but to God I said. “Who the hell is this?”

“That is the Devil,” replied God. "Or to put it more succinctly, she is the one that you will be replacing. And I’d be careful not to anger her. Even after thousands of years she still tends to get a little bitchy in the morning.”