The God’s Gene. Introduction I

by Writing Shark

Blood. So much blood

It’s already early evening and the sun is slowly starting to fade below the horizon on this warm end of a summer day. There is a light breeze, the air smells of warm grass, the crickets are chirping and not far away a group of young people your age is enjoying the beginning of the weekend. All in all, it’s the end of a pleasantly mild week. Unfortunately not for you. Your hands hurt from the heavy shopping bags, your feet are numb and your back aches. All signs that you’re putting yourself and your body through too much. But the alternative would be to starve and that would be a miserable death in the world you live in. Actually, you can’t complain, and you don’t, but damn it, somehow you want to. But not today. You’ve spent a lot of money on the groceries and you have to hurry to get them home.

Otherwise, you would surely approach the group of girls sitting around a park bench in a good mood and enjoying themselves loudly. As you shuffle past them with your back bent, the smell of beer hits your nose. Two of the girls look over at you and you grin at them more out of reflex than courage. One of the girls grins back, but then a gush of laughter from the group makes you avert your eyes. They certainly weren’t laughing at you. But yes or no, you’ve already walked past them.

Actually, you need to be around people more, and actually, that would be the opportunity. You would definitely do it, too, if it weren’t for the shopping… and this damn headache. It’s been bothering you for over a week now. You must have caught some virus or eaten something wrong. Maybe it’s the damn climate or just witchcraft. You smile at the state of your world, but another stitch behind your eyes makes you wince. You would raise your hand but the shopping bag is so heavy and the way home is still far. Your steps speed up a bit because not only your head is giving you problems, your stomach is too. Since your head is bothering you, your stomach also feels like you drank liquid lead. And the whole thing so shortly before your birthday. Again you have to grin. If you had friends you would have had to call them already. Well, things are not that bad in this regard. Some people already like you in your life. But… Another sting, this time stronger, makes you stop. You try to breathe and calm down and after a minute it seems to go away. But yes, you really need to see a doctor, if you could find the time.

Your life is exhausting and someday the hard work and energy you put into yourself will surely pay off. But not today. Sighing, you start moving again, leaving the laughter of the girls and the smell of coal and hot beef behind you. In the distance you can already make out the area where you live. It’s not far now.

“Fuck!” Another smashing blow in your head sends you crashing to the ground. “Fuck that was intense.” You bang your knee on the asphalt, but don’t notice the pain, so distracted are you by the epic artillery barrage between your ears. You have to face it: If you had people who really cared about you, you would care more about what happens to yourself. But like this… You shake your head, a grave mistake. You almost black out.

“Hey man, you okay?” A stubbly black man asks, slightly concerned, leaning down to you.

“Yeah man, everything cool,” you say hoarsely, swaying as you straighten up. “Thanks.” You smile at him.

“You look really pale dude,” says the man who is a few years older than you. He looks like a bum but these days that can be a fad.

“It’s just the weather,” you think and want to start moving again. The sun is already half gone behind the horizon and gives everything to burn your back with its heat in one last effort for this beautiful, horrible day. But your sweat is ice cold and if it didn’t feel so good you would worry about it. And if you had someone. “But tomorrow is my birthday.”

“Don’t you go celebrating man,” grins the black man kindly. “You better stay home.”

“I will” you promise him, but hide the fact that there is no real point in your life to have fun anyway. “I’ll be fine” you lie and the man believes you, of course. He doesn’t know you. You part ways, not without the man turning back to you and waving. You nod in a friendly way, straighten up and examine your two heavy bags. Everything is still in place.

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Just now the sun is sinking behind the trees. You are a little later than usual because lately everything is more difficult for you. But now you can already see the door behind which a sofa, a fridge and a bag of ice is waiting to cool your head down by a few necessary degrees. You manage to speed up your shuffling steps a bit, looking forward to finally arriving at your ‘home’. Then it happens.

At first you don’t notice it, but as the world tilts strangely to the side, you don’t understand that it’s you who stumbles. You don’t notice the impact on the cobblestones either, and just before your head hits the ground you go black.

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“Shit…” you mutter and open your eyes again. You have no idea how long you’ve been lying on the floor, but the vanilla ice cream from the shopping bag has formed a white pool in which your hand now lies. Anyway, it’s wet and… “Oooh ffffuck…” Your hand is not in the melted ice cream. Vanilla ice cream is not red. You blink, an act that uses up almost all your strength. Your head aches, more than usual. You have rarely felt such pain in your life. It takes an eternity to get up. Your leg hurts, but you know that already. But your head… You feel your forehead, but you can’t make out a wound. Your stomach turns, your head almost explodes, and your balance fails you and lets you sway like a drunkard. “What… is going on…” You’re not bleeding, at least not from a wound. But you taste the ferrous flavor of… “Oh man…” Your vision keeps getting clouded as you get up slowly. You need to call the doctor. With shaky hands, you pull out your cell phone and freeze. In the last light of the last day of an unsatisfying life-year, you see your face in the black display. There’s so much blood. “This can’t be…” At that moment, your stomach turns.

You hear your phone fall to the ground next to you and hear the crack of glass and plastic. Your hands land in the sticky, warm white puddle of melted vanilla ice cream. You haven’t thrown up in a long time…generally speaking. For the past few weeks, it’s been an almost daily process. But this time something is different. A puddle of vomit mixes into the clear white of the ice cream and….

“Oh God no…” Blood. Lots and lots of blood. Dark, almost black, dead blood and… something else. You’re dying right now you realize and panic set in. “Help!” you gasp, but no one is near you. Distantly, you can hear the girl laughing, but your voice is already too weak. Still, you don’t give up. “Help!” But it could be that you are just thinking these words because another torrent of vomit and blood is pouring out of your mouth. You haven’t eaten that much at all, but that thought passes unheeded as it feels like someone is smashing your head with a sledgehammer. again and again. The pain sends you completely to the ground. It is over. You die and the last thing you see is the dirty road, a discarded cigarette and smell the smell of warm grass and rotting dead flesh and blood running down your nose to the ground. Then you close your eyes. No big loss…

At this point, you can decide how the story should continue. Would you like to explore your powers or jump to a point in the distant future where you already have almost divine powers?