Yesteryear Fiction

Fall of Pantheons
By Jake A. Strife


I cause the end of gods. Not just one, but all. I become involved in a war, the finale of all wars. This is how it happens.

The world trembles and shakes like an earthquake once again. It is the usual thunderstorm for this time of year, or I should say that, but this time it is very different. The sky rips open and fire falls. People scream. Meteors of a great mass crash down as the rain pours like a jug flipped upside down.

I hear screams all around. I duck into an alley. Maybe the buildings will protect me. I hide behind a dumpster and fall to my knees and pray. I pray to God. I pray for help, for forgiveness; I pray for protection. But as I pray the meteors crash down toward me through the building to my left.

“What the hell is going on!?” I cry out and run away full-speed.

No answer comes as I dive behind another dumpster, evading the explosion of one of the gigantic fireballs.

Once again I pray. I grab the ankh I wear around my neck, and in my desperate mind I cry out for an Egyptian god to save me. I cry for Ra, the sun god, to pull away the clouds and flames and bring forth the sun and for a moment it appears as if the clouds begin to go away and sunlight breaks through in a beam, shining down toward me, but then a great wolf appears and the clouds close once again.

The great wolf has fur like fire itself, but it does not burn the same. Its glowing silvery eyes stare me down, and it howls ferociously. I look up at it, and I recognize it... yes I do. From a video game. But how can it be? This is the great god of wolves Fenrir from Norse mythology.

The great wolf growls at me and takes a step forward. I take a step back. It growls viciously.

“Okay! I’m sorry!” I plead, covering my face in terror.

Then I feel a nudge. I open my eyes and a great tongue slaps my face. I feel the sticky hot drool roll down the contours. I want to cry out how gross it is, but then when I look into the eyes of Fenrir, so close to me, just inches away I knew it would be suicide to insult the beast so.

“What do you want of me?” I ask tentatively.

“I want you,” It speaks in a hoarse and raspy voice, “To help me destroy the gods.”

“What!?” I cry out.

“I said, I want you to help me destroy the gods.”

“Why? How do you expect me to do that! Or why would I do that!”

“You pray, yet do not know who to whom you pray. You pray, yet you cower in fear and death chases you at your heels. I will not make you pray. I will help you, if you help me.”

“But why me? I don’t understand!”

“Do NOT question me!

“You can’t just think I will help you kill gods!” I yell, standing up to the face of death before me.

“This impeccable courage! This is why I choose you!” A smile crossing its canine-lips.

“But what have they done?”

“This is Ragnarok, child! This is the end! Not of man but of gods! ALL gods.”

“Take this weapon. Mjolnir. The hammer of Thor.”

I stare at the wolf incredulously,

“You’re serious?”

Excitement boils up within me. The chance to have a weapon in my hand--not to mention a weapon of intense power--of a god. The thought alone is intoxicating. But still, to kill the gods?

A hammer, in the flash of a meteoric explosion, spins to my feet. The wolf watches me as I kneel down and grab the haft. I lift it more easily than I thought I could have.

“Now on my back! We shall ascend to the celestias!” It cries out.
I climb aboard the huge god-beast, Mjolnir in one hand and holding onto the fur of Fenrir with my other. And with a howl Fenrir rockets toward the sky and the clouds tear apart and swirl around us in a myriad of colors, and then we appear on a battlefield.

“This is what the gods do.” Fenrir tells me.

I stare on in horror. Bodies; everywhere. Not just soldiers, but innocents--women and children! Elderly!

“Who are these people?” I whisper.

“They are the ones who fall when the gods wage war. Their bodies and souls end up here, but then they die here, where it is eternal war, and they cease to exist.”

“Fenrir! So at last you have come for me!” A booming voice rings out.

We turn and a mighty man stands before us, with a long white beard. I know not which god he is. But he wears armor and in his hand he holds a sword.

“Yes, WE have.” Fenrir roars, charging. In a flash the god dodges, and I swing Mjolnir where he once stood. He appears behind us and lightning strikes. Fenrir flies off unconscious. I tumble and slowly stand.

“So you will face me, mortal!? You join Fenrir in the destruction of all worlds?”

I look around. Fenrir isn’t moving.

I have never felt such fear in my life. I am frozen as he walks toward me.

“Fight.” A voice by my feet whispers, “Fight to save us all.” It is an elderly woman cradling a dead child.

I raise my hammer and swing. And he shatters. Light flashes and I am home once again.

“You’re courage. The courage of man, defies that of the gods.” I hear Fenrir in my head.

I look around. There is light. There is no more war. Peace.


- - -
I'm Jake A. Strife an author of Young Adult Fiction, Sci-fi/Fantasy, Flash Fiction, Screenplays and video game-to-book adaptations. I live in Los Angeles, California and plan to keep on writing till the day my hands fall off!