Special Delivery
So I met a god.
Yes, a literal god. Let me explain.
One day, while making my usual deliveries, I noticed the tip was a lot more than your average tip. It was enough for me to quit my job and live stress-free for the rest of my life.
Naturally, I assumed it had to be some kind of mistake, so I found a way to contact the client and ask if the amount was an error.
Turns out, it wasn’t.
According to them, the extra funds were for travel and any inconvenience I might stumble across along the way.
Odd.
No matter. I figured I’d just see what happened.
The directions were the first sign things were about to get weird.
Now, I’ve delivered to all walks of life on this planet. Desperate vampires in need of blood. Starving werewolves needing me to deliver the “prey.”
Not my proudest moments, but hey, a girl has to make a living, right?
Still, this destination wasn’t your average “walk around the block twice so I don’t draw attention” type of deal.
Yes, I’ve had to do that. Several times.
Walking to the end of an abandoned railroad and stepping into a lone elevator seemed… suspicious.
This was the moment where I had to decide whether to turn around or keep moving forward.
Unfortunately for my survival instincts, there was a lot of money on the line.
So forward it was.
The second I approached the elevator, the doors slid open, inviting me inside.
I stepped in without hesitation.
The doors closed behind me, and I immediately noticed there were no buttons. No panel. Nothing.
Then the elevator started moving.
I couldn’t tell if it was going up, down, sideways, or straight into another dimension. I just knew it was moving.
After what felt like an eternity, a soft ding echoed through the elevator and the doors opened.
Sunlight immediately blinded me, reflecting off massive golden statues and shining buildings unlike anything I’d ever seen.
Once my eyes adjusted, I stepped out.
The elevator instantly disappeared behind me.
That was my ride home.
“Shoot. What am I supposed to do now?” I muttered to myself.
“Are you lost, little flower?” a voice behind me asked.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood instantly.
Slowly, I turned around.
“Uh, yes. I’m here to deliver a package to a… Thorus?” I asked, slipping into my professional customer-service voice.
The man laughed softly.
“Thor,” he corrected. “And yes, I know who that is. He’s my brother.”
Brother.
Before I could process that horrifying piece of information, he stepped closer and held out his hand toward me.
“Little flower,” he said smoothly, “Allow me to take you to the gods.”
And that was the exact moment I should have run.
But I didn’t.
Partly because I needed the money.
Mostly because curiosity has always been my fatal flaw.
This decision would later become a very strong argument for why curious cats don’t live long.
