I began talking to him. I whispered to him the secrets of where the staff kept keys. I helped guide him on his way out. I guided him to New Harmony. Kept him safe from harm while he hitchhiked out there.
What a joyous day it was when he arrived at the farmhouse! He gave the first sermon in the history of my church. He told the hierophant and the Amish bishop about my baptism—the scorched forehead—and my covenant—the new eyes.
They both submitted to the rituals and have, in turn, passed on the message to others. There is now a community of nearly a dozen followers living together in the farmhouse, under the authority of the hierophant. He blinds them and burns them and gives them new eyes as they trickle in from places like Evansville and St. Louis. They don’t have easy access to seashells in New Harmony, so they use rocks or clods of dirt instead. I’m not so rigid a god that this offends me. As the movement grows, certain adaptations may be necessary. And the movement will continue to grow. I see that the first followers from New York and Chicago are already on their way.
My followers do things you might consider—at first blush—to be hideous. But you should ask yourself, are they really more objectionable than, say, circumcision? Were the Crusades or the Inquisition any more humane?
Some of you will call me a racist, for things I said and did to Arihiro. But was not the Holy Bible quoted in support of slavery? Does not my elevation of Arihiro to a substantial role in my church cancel out any ill treatment I may have inflicted on him before he learned obedience? I admit I have done things you might consider hideous, but these are the sorts of things gods must do. If you look at the matter fairly, you must conclude that I am no worse than any other god you have ever known.
You’ve spent time with me. I’ve talked to you. I am talking to you this very moment. Surrender your soul to me. You’ve given me space in your brain as you’ve read about my life and times, now I only ask that you give me a place in your heart. What are the alternatives? To believe in no god at all? That defies human nature. Knees exist so that one might kneel. Necks exist so that heads might bow. The notion of god is hardwired into the human genome. There’s no escaping it.
What’s the alternative? To believe in the old, dead god? The empty pews in a typical church on Sunday morning should provide sufficient demonstration of the silliness of that. The opinion polls show that belief in him quite justifiably dwindles each day. No, there is only one sane course of action.
Join the others in New Harmony. Take on my baptism. Take on the sign of the new covenant. Look at the world with new eyes. My reality. Not the old god’s. Mine.
Believe.
About the Author
Nicole Cushing is the author of the acclaimed novella Children of No One (DarkFuse, 2013) and over twenty short stories published in the U.S. and UK. Her previous work has drawn praise from Thomas Ligotti, Gary A. Braunbeck, John Skipp, Black Static and Famous Monsters of Filmland. She lives with her husband in Indiana.
About the Publisher
DarkFuse is a leading independent publisher of modern fiction in the horror, suspense and thriller genres. As an independent company, it is focused on bringing to the masses the highest quality dark fiction, published as collectible limited hardcover, paperback and eBook editions.
To discover more titles published by DarkFuse, please visit its official site at www.darkfuse.com.
Table of Contents
I AM THE NEW GOD
Connect With Us
Other Books by Author
The Correspondence
The First Phone Call
The Exodus
The Passion of Gregory Bryce
The Last Phone Call
Enthroned
About the Author
About the Publisher
I Am the New God Page 11