The Men Who Killed God (Sinner of the Infinite Book 1)

by J Alex McCarthy

  “Nothing of your concern.”

  “Nothing of my concern? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were crying.”

  Queen didn’t answer him.

  “Did Brookes matter that much to you? I would’ve expected a different reaction from the god of death.”

  “Expect a different reaction? He died because of your ignorance, Svante. If you allowed my men to move through your domain then a pair of wanted criminals wouldn’t have killed the best man I had.” Queen didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t have much of a voice anymore.

  “You know the matters of my domain go far above the death of a soldier. I might have acted differently if I knew Queen herself loved a hu—”

  “Don’t you dare say another fucking word.”

  Svante paused, there was a heat in Queen’s eyes. If he went on, there just might be another war of the gods.

  The door swung open. “Queen!” an office worker said in a hurry.

  Queen turned to the man. “We’re having a discussion. Don’t interrupt us again.”

  “It’s urgent!”

  Queen saw the fear in his eyes. Svante nodded at her and walked out.

  …

  “Oh God…” Queen could barely mutter any words. Police and Ifor soldiers had blocked off the street. On the stairs of Ifor’s headquarters was the head of Juraj. The head of a god.

  He had a note attached that read. “From the rebels, with love.”

  Svante stood next to Queen. “How is this possible? It must be another god, another god must be helping the rebels. That’s the only way. A human cannot kill a god. It’s impossible.” Six other major gods surrounded the head.

  Queen stared at Juraj’s head. Of all the gore and violence she’d seen before, why was this the one that made her sick?

  Her stomach turned. It was because it was another god. Not a human. This could happen to her.

  Why didn’t she feel him pass? Queen covered her mouth with her handkerchief. Maybe she did feel it. A god’s soul is too big not to notice. Maybe it was because of her mourning. How could she feel anything with how empty she was on the inside since Brookes’ death?

  Svante was right, no human could kill a god. But something more than a god or a human could. Queen’s eyes widened in shock. The Omniscient Man.

  “No,” she muttered. Everything was crashing down. She turned to her side and hurled.

  Svante came up to her and patted her on the back. “Are you okay?”

  “This…this is your fault for acting childish!”

  “How can you blame me?”

  “This happened in your domain. They just declared war on us, Svante. They have a weapon that could kill us. If you had never forced me out then this would’ve never happened.”

  “Don’t put the blame on me.”

  “You’re the god of war. And at any moment, they will be knocking at our door and who will you defend then Svante? Us or the humans?”

  Svante looked down and put his hands in his pockets. He was trapped. She had him.

  “What do you want to do next, Queen?”

  Queen smiled.

  …

  It was noon. Ifor’s Sotira’s headquarters was quieter than usual. Inside the office, workers went about their day, chatting at the water cooler, filing paperwork, doing the normal mundane office things.

  The front desk secretary sat in her chair, eyeing the waiting area. Every chair was taken. It was unusual. All of them had hoods lowered over their faces. But the secretary didn’t worry. She never had a worry in her life.

  One of them walked up to her. “Hey…”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Someone is going to attack today. I would run away.”

  “Yeah, okay,” she said sarcastically.

  “No. Seriously. Someone really hates the gods and anybody that works for them.”

  “Seriously? Do you know whose office this is? It’s Svante’s, the god of war. We are all Touched here. If this is some kind of veiled threat, then it’s not working. Try the office next door.”

  “You have to believe me!”

  The secretary hit a button on her desk. Two security guards walked up to them. “We got a problem here?” one of them asked.

  “You’re really doing this?” the man asked.

  The guards approached him.

  “I guess we’re doing this,” the man said. He pulled out two pistols and aimed it at the guards.

  The secretary and guards burst out in laughter.

  “I’ll give you one more chance to forget the gods and run away before I kill everyone in this place,” the man said.

  The guards were bent over in laughter, their eyes tearing up.

  The man sighed. “Well, I tried warning you.” He shot both of them in the head, their heads exploding when the rounds hit them.

  The secretary’s laughter stopped and she stared at him in shock. The man turned to her.

  “This is your fault.” Her brains splattered onto the wall as her body fell limp.

  The man removed his hood. It was Ezekiel. He whistled and everyone but three people stood up in the waiting area. Everyone pulled out their weapon of choice.

  The three civilians stared at them. August looked at the civilians. “I suggest you leave.”

  They got up and ran out the door.

  August checked his pistol. His heart was beating fast. He had already killed a god, what was another? The god of war. The god of warring. A god so experienced in fighting and war that they had a position just for him. His very purpose was to be the most efficient at killing someone and who the hell was August?

  A failure of a man who barely had any real fighting experience. He was starting to regret going along with Ezekiel on this mission. He should’ve been a good brother and helped Kevan with saving Luna.

  August silently cursed to himself. Why didn’t he think of that first? He always thought about himself. He could’ve helped his brother. He could’ve started redeeming himself. But it was too late for that now.

  Ezekiel said, “Kill them all, boys!”

  The rebels ran into the offices and gunfire and screams erupted in the air.

  …

  Svante sat in a room in the dark, his cigarette painting an orange light on his eyes. He was at the tower of Ifor in Los Angeles.

  The humans had done it. They had figured out a way to kill gods. He chuckled.

  He wondered how it was done. He had enjoyed the look on Queen’s face when they found Juraj’s head. But she was right. He was the god of war. He had to fight for the gods, no matter what.

  But after whatever battle was coming, he would make sure Queen wouldn’t be the head of Ifor and the gods anymore. Even if it caused another war.

  He stood up. He needed allies.

  He buttoned up his gray vest and the cuffs on his white long-sleeved shirt.

  Juraj’s death would change things. Changes he had to make sure weren’t in Queen’s favor. He needed to go back to his office. In a flash of light, he was gone.

  …

  Blood-curdling screams and booms surrounded August as he walked behind Ezekiel. August had his gun down.

  All around him rebels were shooting the office workers dead. There was nowhere to run. They would huddle under a desk, but a rebel would just kick the desk over. They would hide in an office but another rebel would just blow down the door and shoot them dead.

  Some tried to run to the front entrance but Raul was waiting for them with a smile and a MP5 in hand. He mowed down anyone who tried to get away.

  Blood was plastered on the walls and desk. Papers and office supplies littered the floor. The rebels left nobody alive.

  So, why couldn’t August kill anyone? He simply walked behind Ezekiel as he executed everyone in his path. They were heading toward the back of the office, where Svante’s office supposedly was.

  Whenever August had a chance to kill someone, he simply ignored him. Why? That thought rolled around in his head. Was it becaus
e they truly didn’t do anything wrong? But they worked for the gods so they must’ve deserved death, right?

  August glanced at two office workers clutching each other. Tears ran down their faces. They looked at him before their faces were blown off.

  August dry-heaved. He was going to be sick. He’d seen worse. Why was this getting to him? They were like his father and Sara.

  “No,” August muttered.

  They weren’t like them. These people had never ordered the death of somebody, never knowingly had their family members killed. They were just normal people trying to make a living.

  August and Ezekiel made it to the end of the office. Ezekiel cornered a man. “Where is your god?”

  “I…I don’t know?” the man said. He started to cry.

  “Not good enough.” Ezekiel raised his gun to his head.

  August had to stop this. It wasn’t right.

  “Stop!” August pushed down Ezekiel’s gun.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Ezekiel said.

  “Why do they deserve to die? If we don’t know who they are or what sins they’ve committed? We’re just here to kill a god.”

  “The hell is wrong with you? They are knowingly working under the gods. The very gods who have killed millions of us! You’re not going to get in the way of my goal—” Ezekiel blew the man’s brains out.

  A sudden explosion knocked both of them back.

  …

  Kevan stood on a hill, overlooking a valley. In the valley below was an enormous prison only a mile out. Somewhere in that place, Kevan’s wife was a prisoner. Kevan shivered in his trench-coat. The day was a chilly one.

  The Omniscient Man walked next to him. Kevan said, “So, you said you’d help me get in.”

  “Yes.”

  “But will you help me and my wife get out?”

  “You won’t need my help for that part.”

  “And why won’t I need your help?”

  “Are you doubting the power I gave you? You won’t need my help. All I will help you with is getting you into the place and locating your wife, who is in cell 263g. So my help is done with that part.”

  “It seems impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible, Kevan. Just seldom possible.”

  A hole opened next to the Omniscient Man. In the hole was a hallway of a prison. The prison they were only a mile away from.

  The Omniscient Man continued, “Well, are you gonna just stare at it, or are you going to save your wife?”

  Kevan stepped toward the opening. “Thanks for your help, Omniscient.”

  “Go show the gods what you’re made of.”

  Kevan stepped through the opening and the cold air ceased as it closed behind him. This was it.

  He pulled out his rifle from his coat and walked down the hall. A particular stench hung in the air. The smell of dirt, blood and disgust.

  The long hall was lined with cells. Naked people lay in them. Young and old, men and woman, kids and teenagers. Kevan stared through the cages in shock. There were no bathrooms, no beds or covers, just cold hard concrete floors.

  He shook the negative thoughts from his head. He couldn’t save everyone. His family came first.

  “Hey!” a guard shouted down the hall. Kevan paused and willed a crystal in his hand. It swirled with an infinity of colors. With a thought, it melted into a liquid and surrounded his body.

  In a flash, it was gone and a shock ran through his body. The smells of shit intensified in his nostrils. The dull lights became vibrant in his eyes. His muscles pulsated in a synchronicity he’d never had before. He had power. And with it he could save his wife.

  He pointed his gun at the guard. The guard fired at Kevan but the bullets just bounced off of him. They didn’t even tickle. He didn’t feel a thing.

  He fired and a bright white light erupted from his gun and blew a hole in the guard. There was no blood, no guts, as the light seared through the man.

  …

  August moaned on the floor. He felt a surge charging through his body. He managed to stand to his feet. All the rebels were on the floor, slowly getting up.

  August stared in front of him. Svante was walking out of his office. Rolling up his sleeves. He walked over to a rebel on the floor and swung down his arm. A flash blinded August and by the time he blinked the light away, blood spurted out of the rebel’s mouth and Svante was walking toward Ezekiel, still on the floor.

  “Now, why did you have to go kill that innocent man?” There was an anger on Svante’s face. “He did nothing to you! And you killed him for no reason.”

  Ezekiel stood up slowly, only a few feet away from Svante. “There was a reason. It was because he was a traitor to humanity. Everyone who works for Ifor is.”

  “That doesn’t give you—”

  Ezekiel swung his blade at Svante. Svante moved fast. In a flash, he was behind Ezekiel. Bullets erupted as the other rebels saw their chance. August just stood there, doing nothing at all. It was the worst time to start having second thoughts.

  Svante weaved and buzzed past the bullets. He moved like he was of lightening, moving at an impossible speed, dancing with the wind.

  Even with August’s enhanced senses, he still couldn’t see Svante’s movements. August swirled around as he attempted to track him. The rebels did the same as their bullets twisted through the air.

  August jumped back against a wall and kneeled down. It was too much. The bullets flew everywhere. When Svante appeared, bullets landed where he used to be.

  Svante was toying with them. He was too fast. But the fight took a turn when Svante appeared in front of Raul. A woman screamed; a rebel had found another woman and shot her in the head. Svante looked toward the scream as Raul landed a kick to his head.

  Svante fell back and everyone paused.

  Svante started laughing.

  Svante looked up at Raul, “I haven’t felt pain in two thousand years.” There was a feeling running through him. Excitement, fear, a lust for blood. He smiled.

  In a thunderous boom, the room flashed and all of the rebels fell dead with a smoking hole in each one’s chest, leaving only Raul, Ezekiel, and August alive.

  “Shit,” August muttered. It happened so quickly. He was out of their league.

  Svante stood in front of Raul. Raul was trembling. “Well, are you going to attack me or what?” Svante taunted.

  Raul pulled back to swing and Svante’s hand pierced through his chest. Blood erupted from his mouth onto Svante’s face. “May He have mercy on your soul.”

  Thousands of blue sparks ran through Svante and into Raul. Raul screamed as the sparks burst him into flames.

  August shielded his eyes. When he lowered his hands, Raul was a blackened husk.

  Svante brushed Raul’s ashy remains off himself and looked back at Ezekiel. Ezekiel had a smile on his face.

  August never left the wall. He couldn’t fight something like him. He needed to escape. He looked toward the entrance. Nobody was there; they had killed every worker in the place and, in return, Svante had just killed every one of them.

  He wondered if he could make it to the door. Svante was incredibly fast. He wouldn’t stand a chance. But…

  He looked back at Ezekiel. Svante flashed around Ezekiel as Ezekiel swung around wildly. He could help him or he could run.

  Ezekiel had a smile the whole time he was fighting Svante. Not landing a single hit, not doing a damned thing.

  “Fuck,” August muttered.

  Svante danced around Ezekiel. It was too effortless, Ezekiel thought. There had to be an opening. He had to have some kind of weakness.

  Suddenly, Ezekiel saw a pattern, the way he jumped around him and Ezekiel swung his knife’s blade as Svante flashed in front of him. A smile crept onto Svante’s face and Ezekiel realized that this was where he was going to die.

  Blue sparks frolicked around Svante’s fist as it crashed into Ezekiel’s stomach at an incredible speed, smashing through his shield and into his very b
eing.

  Ezekiel was sent hurtling into the wall, blood sputtering from his mouth. Svante slowly walked toward him. Ezekiel couldn’t move. He smiled as Svante stopped in front of him. Sparks swirled around Svante’s hand. “Did you really think you could kill me? Now you’re going to die with a smile.”

  “It was… never my job to kill the… the gods. I’m just a martyr… it was his,” Ezekiel sputtered.

  Svante looked behind him as a teal blade swung toward him. He swung up and a boom erupted as he caught it with his hand. There was a sound of searing and Svante leaped back. “The hell.” There was a strain in his voice.

  He looked at his hand. There was a cut from the blade. There was no blood, no guts, just parts of him evaporating into a colorful mist. The misting stopped and his wound closed. He stared at his hand in shock. That part of him was gone forever.

  August held his sword in his hands and looked over to Ezekiel. “Combine… the weapons…” August looked around. Over the bodies of the dead rebels, their orbs hovered.

  Svante yelled and the room flashed as he struck down Ezekiel with a lightning bolt. Ezekiel died with a smile on his face. August needed to avenge him, he needed to do something.

  But there was no way in hell that he was going to be able to gather them all quickly enough without Svante on his back.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” Svante asked.

  “What?”

  Svante had a blank look on his face. “You heard him. Combine this weapon of yours. I have a suspicion that you won’t have a fighting chance without them.”

  August backed up and started to gather all the orbs. There were thirty of them. As he collected them, he kept glancing back at Svante. Svante was staring at the ground, perhaps deep in thought.

  August put ten of the orbs on his blade, ten on his gun and ten for defense. Once he was done, he approached Svante and stopped twenty feet in front of him. He didn’t want to get any closer.

  “Why did you allow me to get a better weapon?” August asked.

  “You were the only one to not partake in today’s killing. You remind me of your brother. Just a little more misguided.”