Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“I have a reputation in this town. And everyone remembers you like you used to be. Back in high school when you were so pretty and making such good grades.”
She meant back when I had an eating disorder, and she still shamed me relentlessly for my weight. It eventually landed me in the hospital, which embarrassed her to no end. “Why do you have to be so dramatic about everything?” she cried when she came to visit me. “Why can’t you be normal like everyone else’s daughters?”
So it’s with dread that I look down at my laptop as the minutes creep closer. These short outings I steal for myself away from her feel like the only times I can breathe. Which feels ridiculous at my age. Sometimes, I just want to scream because of it all. Life was not supposed to turn out like this.
I always dreamed of finding adventure. Of traveling the world. Of doing something with my life instead of all this absolute nothing—
My thoughts are interrupted by all the people around me breaking out into screams. I look up from my notebook to see them falling over themselves as they flee the plaza.
What the hell? I blink in confusion. Especially when I see some people stop running to take out their phones and aim them at the sky. Finally, I look up.
And my mouth drops open. What the hell?!!
A muscled man descends from the sky, huge black wings extending from his back, flapping as he comes down.
He drops right into the center of the plaza, hands held out, a huge, slightly wild grin on his face.
“Mortals, behold!” he shouts. “Your god is here among you!”
If my chin wasn’t on my chest before, it is now. The man is shirtless as he faces us, a hood over the back of his head—a mere shred of material because it’s been cut to accommodate his wings. He’s still holding his huge, muscled arms outwards, hands up, though he looks anything but welcome or friendly as his voice continues booming out. “Your god seeks a consort. Volunteers may line up now before me and bow down so that I may choose amongst you.”
It’s like something out of a Marvel movie. The costume is elaborate—well, I’d say it was a costume, but how did he fly? It has to be a magician’s trick, right? Didn’t David Copperfield make the Statue of Liberty disappear or something? Is there a jetpack on his back, hidden by the huge wings?
Within moments, security guards approach, pointing Tasers out in front of them. “Lay on the ground!” they shout. “Get down, now!”
The winged man chuckles in their direction and, hands still held outwards, makes a white-blue light erupt from his fingertips, arcing back and forth between his hands. I gasp as I hear the faint crackle of electricity.
“Stop that!” shouts one of the guards, and I hear fear in the man’s voice. More people run away now, though they keep their phones up as they go. I stay where I am, trembling and frozen. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m scared or because something is actually happening.
Nothing but bad or boring things happen in my life. Maybe this is bad. It’s probably terrible. And yet, I’m transfixed.
I was just praying to God, and here comes a man from the sky proclaiming he is a god.
One of the guards shoots his Taser, and the white-blue light arcing from between the self-proclaimed god’s hands shoots out, deflecting the little prongs. Not only that, but the light travels back up the wires of the Taser and lights up the handle in the guard’s hands. He screams out, his body seizing at the shock. He drops the fried Taser even as he falls over, still shaking.
Another security guard promptly turns and flees. “I’m calling the cops,” he shouts over his shoulder.
Everyone else has fled the plaza for the safety of the surrounding buildings at this point, the rest of the guards included. Which the winged man seems to realize at the same time I do.
He looks around, hands finally lowered, white-blue light dimming. “Well, who will be my consort?”
Then his eyes fall on me.
And on impulse, I do something very, very foolish. I raise my hand.
He smiles.
And starts walking toward me.
Oh shit.
What am I doing? What have I done?
I drop my hand. But it’s too late. His sights are already set on me.
Chapter Two
LAUREN
He comes straight toward me. Wow. Um. He’s really tall. And those are a lot of muscles.
I shake my head, and when that doesn’t seem to deter him, I lift my hands and shake my head and gesture to dissuade him. “Whoa. Whoa. Sorry, momentary impulse move. Just go on to the next person.”
He just grins. “You are a beautiful female. You will be a prize consort.”
Consort? Um, can I call backsies? But what is this guy really gonna do, just pick me up and fly away with me? I mean, ha. He might have muscles, but I’m more than a big girl. Plus, whatever jet pack or magic trick he used to get here surely won’t work a second time. Because I don’t actually believe he’s a god. Do I?