Fertile God of Flies

The Newborn awoke to rain tickling their face. Wishing to stop the mildly uncomfortable sensation, they lifted their hand to the droplets. But something was odd. The drops still slipped down their face. After a few moments, the Newborn realized what was wrong. They had no hands.

New information assailing them, the Newborn attempted to scream in terror. But as before, they found themself lacking the ability to do what they wished. Panic crept into the Newborn's dark vision, squeezing their mind like the claw of a beast. They screamed without a mouth, the warm rain their only companion.

“Sssshhh, it’s okay,” a voice distorted by buzzing comforted.

Before the fear of this odd voice could register in the helpless Newborn, a warm wave of water splashed onto their body.

“AGH!” the Newborn sputtered as they sat up. The young creature’s arms shot to their face to wipe the offending substance from their eyes, their hands frantically scraping at their lids. Then they stopped. The Newborn’s new eyes opened slowly, blinking as the pinpricks of pale light from between their fingers poked their freshly birthed eyes. The Newborn’s hands gradually fell from their face, fear of the pale light and odd voice chaining them over their eyes.

“Wait a moment, please.” hissed the voice politely.

The Newborn’s hands stopped just before they revealed the owner of the voice, paralyzed by fear or some unknown coercion. Their ears picked up the sound of meat slapping against the soft ground, a steady drone of innumerable bugs preceding each twist of flesh. The Pale light that shone between the Newborns fingers erratically darkened and lightened as the voice’s owner warped their form.

Finally, the sound of falling meat stopped, and the light ended as a light grey. The Newborn stood still as a statue, unsure if they should look or question the unknown creature before it.

A large but gentle hand lowered the limbs from the Newborns face revealing the new form of the voice’s owner, a giant with gray-blue skin and the ears of a cow.

Startled, the Newborn jumped back from the glowing giant. “Still afraid?” the deep but soft voice of the giant asked. “Hmpf, just be glad you couldn’t see my previous form.”

The Newborn just stared at the creature which towered over them even when sitting, taking in what had seemingly gifted them a body. The giant’s skin had the short fur of a bull, coloured a grey-blue instead of any natural colour. Despite its muscular frame, there was a degree of softness to its features that gave the Newborn images of a stern but gentle father. The giant’s body stood mostly uncovered, its only clothing an ornately designed loincloth with a bronze rim at the top, bronze bands over its wrists, and a silver headdress adorned with large curved horns. Except for some bovine features, the giant looked remarkably Human, which only served to unnerve the Newborn further. Most startling, however, were the flies.

Flying in a loose cloud around the giant were hundreds of buzzing flies. Some appeared as nothing but floating dots, while others were fat red-eyed hairy things as big as their finger. Though disgusting by themself, the flies alone weren’t what gave the Newborn the urge to vomit. No, the worst thing about the flies was how they came from inside the giant.

All over its body were rotted caverns of flesh that housed the wriggling forms of maggots, eager to burst into the black-furred forms of their parents. But despite the horrible maggot-filled scars and constant buzzing, the giant seemed utterly unfazed.

Confusion and disgust evident on the Newborns voice, they asked, “What are you?”

The giant’s neck slowly tilted down, causing the Newborn to step back in fear. Only when it stopped did the Newborn realize it was getting its head level with their own. “I apologize for being so rude young one; I should have introduced myself when you entered my realm. My name is Baal, God of Fertility and Rain,” the giant told the bewildered Newborn as he motioned to the endless plane of warm rain and sprouting grass. “But not many know me by that name anymore. For the last few millennia, most have called me Beelzebub, Demon Prince of Flies.”

The Newborn froze at the contradiction in Baal’s statement. They looked the God/Demon (which he truly was, they were unsure) up and down, noting how his body fit the description of those great Gods they’d heard stories of time after time. But at the same time, the rotten flesh and buzzing horde of darkness seemed to befit the horrid Demons they’d been warned to run away from. Even Baal’s brilliant bronze bangles were stained with the guts of maggots and flies as if some wrathful Devil ripped their skin raw on the manacles of Hell.

“How can that make sense? Aren’t Gods the opposite of Demons?” the Newborn asked incredulously.

Baal shook his head, “Demons are an evolution of Gods. Though it takes longer for some to change, we all fall into our new roles eventually.”

“Fall? So you used to be just a God?” the Newborn asked.

“Yes. One of the greatest, in fact.”

“How did you fall? Did Zeus or one of the other powerful Gods curse you?”

The Demon’s head shook, “No. It was Humans like you who made me fall from the Pale Light.”

The Newborn’s eyes widened at Baal’s statement. Humans, those flawed mites on a spec in space? How could they dethrone something so vast even in exile? The Newborn thought.

Baal chuckled without humor at the Newborn’s stunned silence. “I can tell by your face that you think my statement ridiculous. But I assure you it’s true.”

“With what weapons did they deliver those horrid wounds?” The Newborn asked in disbelief. “Cannons seem insufficient to dent your sturdy hide, and I’m sure even the most forbidden of munitions wouldn’t be much worse than a bug bite.” The Newborn asked in disbelief.

Again the God chuckled, “Humans have a much worse weapon than mere sharpened sticks and explosives.”

“What?”

Baal leaned forward and lifted a sizeable blue arm to the Newborn. They stepped back in fear, the incessant droning of flies only furthering the fear of the giant hand crushing them like a toy.

“Just wait, child, I won’t hurt you,” Baal said as grassy tendrils seized the Newborn’s retreating legs. Further terrified by their inability to move, the Newborn braced for impact. A warm finger settled softly on the Newborn’s head. “This can is much more destructive than anything Humans, or even I could create.”

The Newborn put their hand to their head as the God’s finger and tendrils retreated “My… mind?”

“Yes. The Human mind ripped holes through my and many other Gods bodies, filling the holes with flies that made us too heavy to hold onto the Light.” Baal stated as he raised hands to the gray clouds above, the buzzing growing louder with his booming voice. As his giant hands fell hard onto his knees, the Newborn heard a muffled clap of thunder in the distance.

Shaking through the revelation, the Newborn asked, “But can’t you rid yourself of the flies? Surly with control of the weather and life, healing any amount of damage should be trivial.”

“Ah, but that’s the problem; there’s nothing to heal. The flies and the holes they inhabit are as much a part of me as my arm or leg; they are baked into the very idea of my being. When no one remembers something, it might as well have never existed, and there’s quite a bit Humanity has forgotten about me.”

“It’s that easy? People forgot about you, found other things to worship, and misinterpreted what you were, and now you’re just a shadow of what you once were?” The Newborn asked, baffled.

“Yes,” Baal affirmed.

“And you’re okay with that? You seem awfully neutral despite the fact Humanity ruined you.”

“I am content as I am, seen mostly as a Demon of black buzzing hordes with a select few remembering a piece of my former glory,” Baal answered. “And Humanity didn’t ruin me, it merely changed me, as mortals change in age.”

With the God’s answer, an idea popped into the Newborns head, “So even Gods will die eventually. You wither like those on Earth; only you die over millennia rather than decades.”

Baal nodded.

“So will you just disappear when you die, or is there an afterlife?” the Newborn asked.

Again the Demon chuckled, causing thunder to rumble over the clouds.

“What’s funny?” asked the Newborn suspicious and slightly unnerved by Baal’s tone.

“Child, you’re in the afterlife,” Baal announced, spreading his arms dramatically. With the spreading of Baal’s arms, the gray clouds parted to reveal not the blue sky but an endless expanse of Pale Light.

Awestruck, the Newborn fell onto their bottom, caught up in their shock at the revelation and the majesty of the White expanse above. Endless in height, the abyss seemed to grow Paler the longer the Newborn viewed it. So deep was the Light that the Newborn felt as if they’d be consumed by it.

Finally, the Newborn shakily asked, “You… used to rule that?”

Baal lowered their arms, “Yes. I and the other supreme Deities of the time sat upon our radiant throne, defining all aspects of the physical world from our expansive shadows.”

“Wh…what is it?”

“That Pale Light is the consciousness of Humanity in its purest form. The ideal origin upon which all things are based. Since Humanity saw the other Gods and me as the creators of the world we became as such, each of us holding power over the ideal forms of what we embodied.”

The Newborn stared into the Pale Light for a few seconds more and mulled over what Baal had said. After a bit longer, they took a deep breath and stood, addressing their question about Baal before tackling the other revelation. “So if the afterlife is just normal life for Gods, do you just return to the Light when Humanity forgets you?”

“Yes, my being will be disassembled until I appear no different from the Pale Radiance above. It’ll be as if I never existed.” Baal answered solemnly.

“Doesn’t that terrify you!?” the Newborn asked, emotion seeping into their voice. “One day, you could just cease to exist, and you don’t seem to care. How are you content knowing you’ll eventually be nothing!?”

Baal’s foggy eyes stared down at the flustered Newborn, the silence only broken by the buzzing of thousands of flies. Finally, he said, “Because I won’t be nothing. Though I’ll be broken down and distributed into the White expanse, I’ll still exist as infinitesimal pieces that can be recycled into new Gods and ideas.”

Unable to contain their anticipation, the Newborn asked what had been on their mind since the clouds parted, “Is that what’s going to happen to me after we stop talking?”

For the first time since the Newborn awoke, Baal’s expression shifted. “Don’t worry, child; you’re far from being disassembled. You were just born after all.” He said with a warm smile.

“What!?” the Newborn yelled, shocked. “But I thought this was the afterlife. Isn’t that why I didn’t have a body or personal memories?”

“Ah, you misunderstood. You have no personal memories because your mind was just formed. And though this may be the afterlife, it’s also where those who died are recycled into new beings.” Baal explained.

Their hands going to their head, the Newborn’s fear tangled into confusion. Then, gradually, the confusion unspooled into understanding, and their hands fell from their head. “So that’s why you greeted me instead of a God of Death. I assume you’ll put me into a body after our conversation ends.”

“Yes. You’ll be placed into your mother’s womb and forget all that’s happened before you were sealed in flesh.”

“Will I ever remember what we talked about?”

“Not completely, but you may get glimmers of insight throughout your life. Like with our conversation, you’ll struggle with the questions you’re faced with, but I’m confident the answers you’ve gained here will help you be content.”

“Guess that’s better than not remembering at all.” The Newborn sighed.

The conversation had reached its conclusion; the Newborn had no more questions. As Baal prepared the mixture that would grow their body, the Newborn stared into the Pale Light of Human consciousness. A little later, Baal called them over. His hand held a goblet made of tree bark and cupped leaves. The Newborn grasped it gently and looked at the clear rainwater within.

So pure was the water that it seemed to glow, perfectly reflecting the wispy face of the Newborn. But in its center sat a small dead fly. The Newborn would have asked Baal about it earlier, but now they were content with whatever it brought. No matter what flaw or hardship it brought to their new life, the Newborn was sure they’d be able to overcome it thanks to what they’d learned.

“Thank you,” they told Baal before they drank from the goblet till nothing was left. As their body shimmered and disappeared, the Newborn heard the enormous God softly say, “Have a good life, child.”