God, the Animal

“What do you think God is like?”

She couldn’t get the sound of that sickening howl out of her head, and it left her blinded by tears.

“What do you mean by that?”

Her heart pounded in her ears, deafening her to all except the earth being ripped up behind her.

“How do you think he looks and acts?”

Trees rushed past and thorns ripped at her skin and clothing as she sprinted through the woods.

“His actions and feelings are hard to explain.”

Her lungs barely had the time to fill and empty, their function decreasing every moment. Every breath singed her esophagus.

“What do you mean?”

Still she continued on, driven by the deeply coded drive to survive. Her body instilled within her strength she had never known prior.

“Well, God is complex. He created everything, and can do anything, but He also doesn’t have the same problems as us. So, we really can’t comprehend why He does what He does because we can’t imagine the stress He deals with.”

Behind her, trees cracked at their base and stumps were uprooted. The world was closing in around her as her vision narrowed.

“Oh! So what does He look like?”

The horrible howl rang out again, and blood dripped from every orifice as vomit fell from her lips. She only needed to run for a few moments longer.

“When you see Him you find out that He has razor sharp fangs, and claws that can rend flesh as if it weren’t there. He has a scorpion’s tail and the wings of a bat. His stare bores pain directly into your soul, and His words break bones. He is powerful, and scary, and His presence burns all around Him to ash.”

A root in her path seemed to appear from thin air, and she tripped over it. She stumbled forward, slamming her face against another root and knocking out three teeth.

“That’s so scary.”

Turning onto her back, she saw the beast standing over her. Its breath burned her face and it reached a disgusting gnarled claw forward, trailing it down her torso with blood in its wake.

“Yeah, it is. God is everything you wish He wasn’t”

She screamed, tearing her throat to shreds in the process.

“We are, after all, made in His image.”