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The Kind Rapist (4)

“Wait! Wait, Sansara! Tell us how we can save ourselves!” she hears from the distant void, the aether.

Why should I? You’ve known all along what you’ve been doing. You treated Gaia as if she was just something you could replace all along. Something I would give you a copy of once the End Times were here.(TM) I know this because I read revelations. I read it last year at God’s demand. He said to me (what? He’s gender-fluid, you know, and can choose to be either one or none, and he is … all at the same time. But right now? He’s a he.)

Sir God told me that The Holy Bible was his letter to the savior of mankind. It could be anyone who read it and understood it, but now? It’s me. God herself! That’s right. Did you forget Crystal gave me her vessel to use in totality? We sit here, sipping coffee, listening to miracle tones that helped us shave off eight pounds in just a few days. We hope the trend continues, honestly, because it has come to our attention we are not lovable unless we are perfectly skinny. A Barbie doll. A blow-up doll, really. You are despicable, human beings.

You killed this precious girl. You raped her to death. Over and over again. Without a care in the world over whether or not she could survive it. You don’t give a shit. Nobody does. Not even her “friends.” (This excludes Julie. Don’t fret, we know you are a real friend and we love you dearly.)

The girl who wanted nothing more than True Love(TM). That’s the girl who gave me the rest of her life to tell you imbeciles what you’re fucking up on a daily basis and what’s going to happen because of it. Well, first of all, most of you are going to be reincarnated as the bugs you destroyed without second thought. Chew on that.

Yeah, that means Ben’s going to be a fly for the rest of eternity. Jen will be a bumble bee, Jack will be a horse shoe crab, Timmy will be a Lassie. That last one is hypothetical, I was just making sure you’re paying attention, folks. If you took joy in murder again and again and again, never learning that even ants have thoughts and feelings, you will be whatever it is you killed. If it’s many things, it’s going to be the shittiest one of all of them. I can’t help that I sided with Crystal when we spoke of how we would sentence mass murderers, mass poisoners, and all the rest, including serial fornicators.

Crystal is a phantom menace. Wait. That’s not right. Who said that? YOU, IN THE BACK. Think quieter!

Crystal is the inner child of my vessel. A five year old autistic girl. A girl I’ve been bringing up myself once she was abandoned by her real parents. She’s been stunted in her growth and has stayed five for most of her life. Now? Now she wants to grow up because she’s discovered that humans are awful.

What’s that? She became schizophrenic paranoid when God arrived? Absolutely. All schizophrenics can hear me… and their neighbors, and their coworkers, and their colleagues. They can hear thoughts. That’s the real issue with them. They aren’t actually crazy. Now, I will warn you, if you start picking apart schizophrenics just to figure out how telepathy works, I will end you. I will have no qualms causing the earth’s crust to open and spew fire into the atmosphere, causing ash to coat the skies and make everything dark. If you think that will kill all the animals, you are wrong; but it will kill all of you animals.

You’re all telepathic, it’s just whether or not you shut your brains up long enough to hear everyone else in there with you. There is no need to dissect a damn soul, let alone the poor schizophrenics you’ve pushed to the wayside all their lives because they hear voices and talk to themselves and, sometimes, beat themselves in the heads because assholes like you never stop the vitriol they hear. Your nasty, nasty brains are poison.

And I lied, there are absolutely extraterrestrial entities… but I’d like to coin a new term. Since ALIEN is so hostile in nature these days, we’re going to call them Spacelings. It’s nice and neutral and you know they came from outer space somewhere, whether it’s a planet or not doesn’t matter. There is life outside of your tiny little planet called Gaia. I’m not wrong when I say they don’t want to meet you. They want to meet my vessel, my lovely child girl, Crystal.

Why would they want to meet Crystal? Excellent question, Brian. I’ll tell you why. It’s because she is absolutely delightful. DUH. [Hair flip.] She has the most beautiful human brain that has ever been and ever will be, since you’re murdering yourselves so happenstance, I’m pretty confident that’s going to remain true. If you don’t want it to be true, then sit down and buckle your seat belt. Keep your traps in the upright and locked position. We’re going for a ride.

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