The NEET God

Like any other day, John dreamed of being surrounded by scantily clad women. Their luscious and pure skin couldn't detract from their display of servitude.

Two fanned him from either side. The one on his right looked like Olivia, the witch that always screamed at him to get moving and took pleasure whipping him whenever John got into trouble. Her blond, flowing hair moved by an invisible wind, adding a wild charm to her aquamarine eyes. The one on his left looked like Ophelia, the cold statuesque woman who sentenced him to those extreme judgements. Her simple brunette bun amplified the stiffness in her dark brown eyes, like a distant but obviously deranged teacher.

Mary massaged his feet with her delicate fingers, reminding him of when she played her harp with virgin piety. Her platinum hair ended in a ponytail, with a string of golden fleece tying it together. Mary's red lips softly parted as she sang to John lullabies before he became an angel. Before he joined the church. Back when his mother comforted him after running in the fields. Mary was left as preserved and unblemished as his memories.

He sat in bliss, eating an occasional grape.

Then, he woke up from his nap. It wasn't because he wanted to, but it was because he had trouble breathing. John felt like he was inhaling stone, or in better words, being killed in his sleep.

John's eyes flew open and his body shook as he sat up in his bed. Who dared? Recalling his dreams, he shrank in fear. Did they find his secret cache and finally execute him in the heat of passion?

Tears streamed down his childish cheeks but his sight found that it was the letter on his face.

"I'm cursing myself to death! I have to be more careful where I hide it next time..." he grumbled loudly.

John tried to crush it into nothingness but instead, he nearly broke his fingers. He cleared his mind quickly from his drowsy dreams of women fawning on him on his throne.

It was a letter from God. John instinctively shivered but soon stopped. New orders?

The letter was concise as always: "Crazy hero loose. Must stop. Took others. Watch Derob or else. I mean it."

John scratched his tangled blond curls. Him? Watch an entire Heaven by himself? He almost laughed at the absurdity but the letter in his hands expanded into a fist and punched him in the stomach.

John cracked his head against the nigh-unbreakable wall and he screamed in pain. The letter turned bloody as the words changed.

It read, "Take this seriously or the Pope takes charge. Final warning."

John cried miserably at the unwanted monitoring system. The words practically branded themselves into his memory.

John stared angrily at the letter but it liquified and then solidified as a collar around his neck. Failure meant his head would pop off like a cork off a bottle of wine.

John usually dreaded work more than punishments but his life was on the line this time!