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Chapter 33 by Mr Nice Guy Mr Nice Guy

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Father

“What have you brought me, daughters?”

The impossibly low voice pulled Tim out of his daze. The first thing that he noticed was that, with the exception of his head, he was completely immobile. The second was that he had been taken somewhere.

He was no longer in the classroom. He wasn’t sure where he was, but it was unlike any space he’d been before. The floor was yellow, like gold, but shone as if it held a light source. The it was smooth and without imperfection, as far as he could tell.

Above him was nothing but stars. The night sky, unsoiled by the lights of civilization, displaying her all majesty. The floor’s light, somehow, didn’t spoil the view. Looking up, Tim got the impression that he was seeing the sky in a way that humans hadn’t seen it in a long time.

The walls, long distant from him, looked to be of stone, but faded away a few metres up, dissolving into the beautiful sky.

To his left, Tim could see old lady Justice, arms crossed, tapping her foot. He tried to call out, but found that he had no voice.

On his right, Destiny, wearing identical jeans, sneakers, and t-shirt to what he wore, and Luck in a shiny pink minidress that drew his eye if he allowed it, both grinning smugly.

Before him was a man. He was a small man, no more than five feet tall, grey hair, bushy eyebrows. But when he spoke, Tim felt his soul wanting to shake free.

“This mortal,” Luck said, waving her impossibly thin arm toward Tim, “has been unfairly taken from us by Justice.”

“You take that back, cow!” Justice shouted, “nothing I do is unfair!”

“Come now,” the old man’s voice made Tim’s eyes ache, “what possible consequence could this mortal have, that would bring you before me? Depart, and allow this mortal to live out his short days.”

“Father,” Luck said in her bored voice, “our sister oversteps her authority. She has forgotten her place. Justice had no sway over chance.”

“Nor over fate,” Destiny piped in.

“She would usurp the natural order that you have lain,” Luck finished.

The old man turned to Tim and looked him in the eye. He could feel himself being examined, not the way a person senses an observer, but the way sand would feel hands sifting through it. His skin was afire, his muscles wrenched and tore. He wanted to scream, but no sound would come from his throat. In that moment, Tim could sense his place in the universe, just for a moment, impossibly small, impossibly unlikely. He wanted to hide, but every atom that made him up was on display.

“What are you playing at, daughter?” The voice that tore him in half said, the old man’s face began to take on interest.

“Just defending a part of creation unfairly set upon by my sisters,” Justice answered.

“Are you certain that you have no designs beyond that?”

“As I have been told, fate and fortune are not my domain,” she said, “so if something comes of this other than justice, you’ll have to ask these bitches.”

A twinkle appeared in the old man’s eye, and he looked away, allowing Tim to come back to himself from the existential hell he had been drowning in. The memories of what he felt immediately began to fade, but the fear of the old man’s gaze remained.

“Daughters,” Tim’s hair stood on end while his bones felt stretched, “I care not for this mortal, no more than any other. Justice has stayed within her precepts. Take care that your spite does not drive you beyond your own. I will not interfere.”

“Ha!” Justice laughed and pointed as Destiny and Luck, “In your faces, whores!”

“Now leave me,” he said, “for I have much yet to imagine this day.”

He snapped, and the world went dark.

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