Pan X Kali

Peace…quiet…the gentle bleating of sheep. Things have been quiet, too quiet, up on the hilltops. A large flock of sheep grazes, unconcerned by anything else happening in the world… Seated with them, equally unconcerned, is an ancient Satyr named Pan.

“Peace, quiet, same old same old. You know? Sometimes I wonder about why I have chosen this job… I mean, I suppose the wild Saturday parties with Dionysos make things a little better,” Pan mutters, yawning lazily.

“Maaaaahhhh,” a sheep replies.

“No, I’m not bringing you any party drinks. Remember last time? You nearly fell off the hilltop,” Pan argues, naturally understanding exactly what the sheep is saying.

“MAH!” the sheep bleats angrily.

“I said what I said,” Pan argues with a huff. Pan then turns to you, the reader, “They always want more than what I provide, you know? If you give a sheep a drink, they’ll want some party snacks to go with it type of deal.”

“Maaaah maaah!” the sheep bleats.

“Oh shush, you! I’m going to turn you into lamb chops if you don’t stop your whining!” Pan argues, pointing at the sheep’s flanks.

“Maaaahhhhh,” the sheep replies with a smirk.

“So what if you aren’t a lamb anymore? I’m sure you still taste good. Besides, I like things a bit…old…” Pan says, licking his lips.

“MAH!” the sheep bleats and leaps away in fear.

“You guys stay here. I’m going to go check the perimeter for danger,” Pan says and stakes his staff into the ground.

The Satyr rolls to his feet. He casts one more glance at his sheep and hops away to go check the surroundings for danger. Unknown to him, he’s leaving his flock right in harm’s way… As soon as Pan is out of sight, a strange dark door appears out of thin air, smoking in a dark aura.

The door opens and the plume of darkness grows denser. The sheep bleat and cry out in terror. Out of the darkness steps a tall figure with blue skin and four arms. Her face is obscured with a dark mask etched with glowing metallic gold.

“A fine offering… This, I will accept…” the woman declares in a voice that would raise chill-bumps on even the toughest of souls.

The sheep panic. Quickly and effortlessly, the woman renders every single sheep deceased. Even the grass upon the hill turns black and wilts away. Briefly, she stoops and picks up the skull of one of the many sheep.

“Your suffering is over… You are free,” she whispers and then stands back up, ready to depart back into the door.

“WHAT IS THIS?!” Pan wails, returning to find the woman departing.

“Death,” the woman whispers, chilling Pan to the bone before vanishing.

“WAIT!” Pan wails, rushing towards the door, but the door itself disappears. “Who was that gorgeous woman…? She must be a goddess!”

Pan then looks down at the destruction. The sheep, whom he had just been speaking to earlier, are nothing more than skeletons now. Pan sighs, picks up some bones, and eats them. He shrugs and continues eating the bones off the ground.

Satyrs are known to eat just about anything and everything. Pan finishes eating all the bones and wipes his hands together in satisfaction. Then, concentrating, Pan creates a whole new flock of sheep. It’s as though nothing has ever happened!

Oh, wait, the grass is still dead. Pan notices this, touches the ground, and the grass comes back to life. There, now it really does look like nothing happened. He smiles, sits down, and tends his new flock…except the thought is still eating away at him… Who was that woman and where can she be found?

“Hey, do you happen to know who that could be? No? Well, I do know once place I could search for clues as to whom she is…” Pan says, talking directly to you, the reader.

“Maaaaaah,” one of the sheep bleats.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll be back… Just don’t get turned into skeletons,” Pan says and creates a door of his own.

Pan leaves. The sheep silently stare at each other for a bit. The door itself also vanishes. The sheep then break out some playing cards and begin gambling.

“Mahhh mahhhh,” one says, shuffling her cards thoughtfully.

“Mahhh,” another says, seeming to study her own cards.

“Mahhhhhh,” a third sheep announces, holding up a bean burrito.

“Hey, where did you get that?” the first sheep asks, suddenly speaking English.

“Oh, you know…” the third sheep says, rather dismissively.

“No, I don’t know. That’s why I asked,” the first sheep remarks.

“Oh, so we’re speaking English now?” the first sheep says. “What’s next, you’re going to tell me we’re just part of a stupid ongoing joke?”

“YOU’RE an ongoing joke!” a completely random sheep yells.

“Heeeeey!” another voice calls out.

“Oh boy,” one sheep says.

“Who invited this guy?” another asks.

In comes a guy with the body of (almost) a human, but the head of a wolf. His arms and legs are also very hairy. It’s Lycaon; a known nuisance that is heavily despised by the gods. The sheep huddle together, realizing their shepherd likely won’t be back in time to save them.

“I smelled a bean burrito and came to see if I could also have one,” Lycaon says with a shrug. “But I guess there’s just sheep here. No burrito. What a shame.”

“I meeeeeean, that sheep over there DOES have a burrito,” one of the sheep notes, pointing at sheep number 3.

“Ahhh, well, would you look at that!” Lycaon replies and marches over there. “Give me the burrito…or your life.”

“You want MY burrito?! I challenge you to a game of Rock Paper Scissors!” the sheep cries out.

“Winner gets the burrito!” Lycaon exclaims.

The two began their game of Rock Paper Scissors! On round one, Lycaon calls rock and the sheep calls scissors. That’s one point for Lycaon! On round two, Lycaon and the sheep both call paper. That’s a draw.

On round three, Lycaon calls scissors and the sheep calls rock. One point for the sheep! Well, both sides have one point. So now what?

“Seems we have tied. I GUESS we can share the burrito…” Lycaon grumbles.

“Fair enough,” the sheep says.

The sheep eats her half of the burrito. Lycaon also just sits there surrounded by sheep and eats the burrito half. Lycaon then grabs the sheep and eats her. The other sheep stare, mouths agape.

“Looks like I’m the real winner here,” Lycaon says, licking his lips and patting his belly happily. “BWARP!”

“Maaaah…” the sheep bleats in defeat from within Lycaon’s belly.