God's ChosenThere weren't How To Guides. Or history books. This phenomenon was as ancient as earth and more secret than a scorned heart.God's Chosen by DeejaeHarper
There was only the guy in the white robe and you. Only you would know.
The night he came to me, he said, "You can pick anything. Mass suicide. Bombing. Orphans dying. Any one event you can change."
I thought how different the world would be. I thought I could stop the Holocaust. God was careful, he outlined the rules. "It can only be in your lifetime."
He told me I had all the time to decide. I could wait years.
But I knew. I knew the moment he promised me the world.
I would have to relive the event, then it would be gone.
Could I do it? Could I relive...
I watched as my mother reached for me in the car, glass shattering around us. The event seared her burning face into my mind.
When I woke, I heard the door open. I was sixteen again.
"Honey. Are you in here?"
The tears began to pour.
PlagueOf all the women Death had been set up with, Plague was perhaps the worst. She ate with her mouth open and her black eyes were always looking down at her watch. She clicked away on her phone, talking to a myriad of people.Plague by DeejaeHarper
Pestilence had been determined that his friend meet his sister. Plague was a lovely girl, with black curls and green skin. She was thin and tall. Almost as tall as Death. "You're into skeletal," Pestilence said, grinning lewdly.
"My sister could be a model, you know. Though she might just kill everyone she works with."
Besides her work with rats, Plague hadn't done much in the world since the Bubonic phase she went through. As a hell-dweller, she spend more time helping her friends Cancer spread the stuff around. She was responsible for a lot of small scale things, though her work with Ebola was reaching an all time high.
She just didn't seem to have a will of her own, which bothered Death.
He was a fan of a self-made woman. It was silly, really, but he had almost im
FlufflesShe came to me three times a day, her bell jingling. She asked only for milk, adoration, and a temple in her honor. I complied. I bought furniture I did not need, using the cardboard Ikea boxes to build her grand vision.Fluffles by DeejaeHarper
When the milk began to displease her, I began to seek out the unworthy. I milked their throats. The pink liquid pleased the mistress, for she purred. When she purred, I did not fear her stinging claws. Hail the scratches of the fair one for she is love and despair.
Sometimes the mistress, her furry ears pulled back, would tell me in so many words that the people in my life were unworthy. I would bow to her wisdom and tell my family, my friends, concerned co-workers, and professionals that I could not speak with them ever again.
Mistress did not like me sleeping on the bed, so I took the couch. But then she wanted the couch. Sometimes I lay crying in the bathroom--I swear from joy--and her little paws would appear under the door. I would crawl into the corner, put my he