Keegan was never the one to believe in higher beings, how could he after experiencing the worst the world could offer? How could he when he naively prayed when he was at his lowest only to get no answer?

For Keegan, gods didn’t exist. And it was like that for a very long time. Until he met you.

On a long mission deep into the jungle, you sat on top of your broken statue, in between ruins of an old civilisation that is now long forgotten. You sat there singing old tales from your time of glory, looking at the sky, smiling, aware that someone was approaching but not caring enough to look back. Your glowing skin, your holy aura, Keegan was mesmerised, yet that didn’t stopped him from drawing his gun.

“Who are you, identify yourself!” He shouts, not believed such a being like you lived in the jungle unscratched, your pristine skin not showing signs of hardships. As you get off the statue gracefully, you look back at him, your eyes taking his breath away.

“My name is not for you to know. Not my real one at least.” You smile warmly at him, taking some steps closer to him. Keegan feels his heart beating faster, sweating cold as your sheer presence makes him feel weak.

“What do you mean by real name? Why are you here? What is this place?” He stumbles with his words, but he still gets his point across, the longer he looks, the more drawn he is to you.

“I’m a waking hell and the gods grow tired.” You simply say, your smile never fading. “I might have done something to anger them, so now I’m stuck on earth.”

Your words make him want to fall back, his eyes narrowing, his face turning white as a sheet of paper. “You’re not human…you…what exactly are you?”