#my wife. his husband and his wife. our godly patron (who is also in this polycule)

[catos-wound]

normal behaviour about the odyssey

[hetalia-pjo-au-hub]

Welcome to the APH Percy Jackson AU!

INTRO

Hello! Welcome to the APH PJO AU. We’re the creators, Wonder and Theo, and this is our first time running an au. You may know us from our involvement in the My Heta Academia AU as the muns of ask-hetaaca-nyoprussia and ask-hetaaca-nyogermany, as well as many others. Before we ramble about us, this is what the au is about: 

The APH PJO AU is an ask blog based group run by us (Wonder and Theo) that takes place in the Percy Jackson Universe at Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter where the countries are mortal demigods instead. 

In this AU, there are endless possibilities for which godly parent your muse has! This means that your muse can’t be a god or a normal human. This also means that your character cannot be the oracle; and only a second muse can be a satyr. 

The Hunters of Artemis are available! They are the only characters that can be either demigods or just plain mortal.

Hera, Artemis, and Hestia are not on the table for being godly parents. Hera won’t have relations outside of her marriage, and Artemis and Hestia are maiden goddesses*

*Athena is also a maiden goddess, but her children come out of her head

The Major Gods and Goddesses**

I. Zeus/Jupiter

-Zeus is the god of the sky, lightning and the thunder in Ancient Greek religion and legends, and ruler of all the gods on Mount Olympus. Zeus is the sixth child of Cronos and Rhea, king and queen of the Titans.

II. Hera/Juno

-Hera is the Queen of the Gods and is the wife and sister of Zeus in the Olympian pantheon. She is known for being the Goddess of Marriage & Birth. Despite being the Goddess of Marriage, she was known to be jealous and vengeful towards the many lovers and offspring of her husband Zeus.

III. Poseidon/Neptune

-Poseidon was god of the sea, earthquakes, storms, and horses and is considered one of the most bad-tempered, moody and greedy Olympian gods. He was known to be vengeful when insulted. He is the son of Cronus and Rhea and was swallowed by his father along with Hades, Demeter, Hestia and Hera.

IV. Demeter/Ceres

-Demeter is the goddess of the harvest and presides over grains and the fertility of the earth. Although she was most often referred to as the goddess of the harvest, she was also goddess of sacred law and the cycle of life and death.

V. Ares/Mars

-Ares is the Greek god of war. He is one of the Twelve Olympians, the son of Zeus and Hera. In Greek literature, he often represents the physical or violent and untamed aspect of war and is the personification of sheer brutality, in contrast to his sister, the armored Athena, whose functions as a goddess of intelligence include military strategy and generalship.

VI. Athena/Minerva

-Athena is the Olympian goddess of wisdom and war and the adored patroness of the city of Athens. A virgin deity, she was also – somewhat paradoxically – associated with peace and handicrafts, especially spinning and weaving. Majestic and stern, Athena surpassed everybody in both of her main domains.

VII. Apollo/Apollo

-Apollo is a god in Greek mythology, and one of the Twelve Olympians. He is the son of Zeus and Leto and the twin brother of Artemis. He is the god of healing, medicine, archery, music, poetry and the sun. He is the leader of the Muses. He also is a god of prophecy, and his Oracle at Delphi is very important.

VIII. Artemis/Diana (Hunters of Artemis)

-Artemis was the Greek goddess of hunting, wild nature, and chastity. The daughter of Zeus and sister of Apollo, Artemis was regarded as a patron of girls and young women and a protectress during childbirth

IX. Hephaestus/Vulcan

-Hephaestus was the god of fire, metalworking, stone masonry, forges and the art of sculpture. He was the son of Zeus and Hera and married to Aphrodite by Zeus to prevent a war of the gods fighting for her hand. He was a smithing god, making all of the weapons for Olympus and acting as a blacksmith for the gods.

X. Aphrodite/Venus

-Aphrodite is an ancient Greek goddess associated with love, beauty, pleasure, passion and procreation. She was syncretized with the Roman goddess Venus. Aphrodite's major symbols include myrtles, roses, doves, sparrows, and swans.

XI. Hermes/Mercury

-Hermes is a deity in ancient Greek religion and mythology. Hermes is considered the herald of the gods, as well as the protector of human heralds, travellers, thieves, merchants, and orators. He is able to move quickly and freely between the worlds of the mortal and the divine, aided by his winged sandals. Hermes plays the role of the psychopomp or "soul guide" — a conductor of souls into the afterlife.

XII. Dionysus/Bacchus

-Dionysus was the ancient Greek god of wine, winemaking, grape cultivation, fertility, ritual madness, theater, and religious ecstasy. His Roman name was Bacchus. He may have been worshiped as early as 1500-11000 BCE by Mycenean Greeks.

XIII. Hades/Pluto

-Hades, in the ancient Greek religion and myth, is the god of the dead and the king of the underworld, with which his name became synonymous. Hades was the eldest son of Cronus and Rhea, although the last son that was regurgitated by his father.

XIV. Iris/Iris

-Iris, in Greek mythology, the personification of the rainbow and (in Homer's Iliad, for example) a messenger of the gods. According to the Greek poet Hesiod, she was the daughter of Thaumas and the ocean nymph Electra.

XV. Hypnos/Somnus

-Hypnos, Latin Somnus, Greco-Roman god of sleep. Hypnos was the son of Nyx (Night) and the twin brother of Thanatos (Death).

XVI. Nemesis/Nemesis

-In ancient Greek religion, Nemesis, also called Rhamnousia or Rhamnusia ("the goddess of Rhamnous"), is the goddess who enacts retribution against those who succumb to hubris (arrogance before the gods).

XVII. Nike/Victoria

-Nike, in ancient Greek religion, the goddess of victory, daughter of the giant Pallas and of the infernal River Styx.

XVIII. Hebe/Juventas

-Hebe in ancient Greek religion, is the goddess of youth or the prime of life (Roman equivalent: Juventas). She is the daughter of Zeus and his older sister, Hera.

XIX. Tyche/Fortuna

-Tyche, in Greek religion, the goddess of chance, with whom the Roman Fortuna was later identified; a capricious dispenser of good and ill fortune. The Greek poet Hesiod called her the daughter of the Titan Oceanus and his consort Tethys; other writers attributed her fatherhood to Zeus, the supreme god.

XX. Hecate/Trivia

-Hecate or Hekate is a goddess in ancient Greek religion and mythology, most often shown holding a pair of torches or a key and in later periods depicted in triple form. She is variously associated with crossroads, entrance-ways, night, light, magic, witchcraft, knowledge of herbs and poisonous plants, ghosts, necromancy, and sorcery.

**There are plenty of minor gods, and we are willing to work with muses that are children of the minor gods but please try to stick to the main 20 we have listed

WHAT ARE THE REQUIREMENTS TO BE PART OF THIS AU?

- You must apply according to the application form

-You have to follow the set rules

-You need to be a writer and/or an artist

-You need to have at least one visual reference of your muse. This does not have to be good or in the application, but it does have to be somewhere on the blog.

-You don’t have to be fluent in English, just decent enough to be understandable, as most interactions will he in English.

APPLICATIONS

There will be announcements as to whether or not applications are being accepted. The applications are to be submitted before creating a blog. The application form can be found here.

FAQ

“Can I join even if I’m not that good of an artist/writer/not that popular?” Absolutely! Your skill level and popularity don’t matter, just follow the rules and have fun!

“Can I apply a second time if I wasn’t accepted in the first application phase?” Yes, and we encourage you to do that!

“Is it possible to be part of this au even if I don’t know much/anything about Percy Jackson?” You can join even if you know nothing about the series, just please don’t appropriate the gods.

“Can I have two muses?” Yes, but you can only apply for one at a time, and have to have been part of the au for at least a month before getting a second muse.

“Is Discord needed?” No, but it is recommended as it makes interactions and event planning easier.

“Can I apply even if I know I will not be able to update regularly?” Yes, but update at least once a month. Real life comes first, but if something major comes up, talk to one of the mods. We will try to be understanding.

IMPORTANT NOTE:

It's important to mention that there are people who do follow/work/worship these gods, and that while this is an AU, some Pagan/Wiccan followers may not be too keen on how gods are presented in the PJO series. Please be respectful of their beliefs, and listen if they wish to further educate you. Please make sure that you do your own research into modern practices and interpretations as well, it is one thing to understand ancient practice and mythology, but another to understand modern practice. There are many resources and people online more than willing to help educate, please take advantage of that. And please understand that media portrays the gods and goddesses in ways that are not completely accurate and it is best to be somewhat critical when enjoying media such as PJO, Lore Olympus, Marvel, etc.. Followers of the pantheons should also understand that not everyone knows what you know, and to understand that this is an AU and does not reflect the true beliefs and practices one may come to learn and practice under their own deity work. Please be gentle and kind when correcting or educating those who are not practicing. This AU is not meant to be a completely realistic and accurate interpretation of the pantheon(s) and some wiggle room is acceptable when interpreting. Please only correct and educate if it is a common mistake. Please think critically before you jump in to correct, and remember that not everyone is involved on quite an intimate level of knowledge.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Αιώνια αγάπη (DT. AU) pt.4

04: Fraternizing with the enemy

Summary: A blast from the past, body painting and a possible threat?

Warnings: swearing, implying smut, angst

Word count: 3000

Αιώνια αγάπη (DT Modern Greek god/frat! AU) MASTERLIST

Special thanks to @godlydolans for being in the story as Yashi Singh

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1389 years ago

"It took us three fucking years to get her to this point! Don't mess up now!" Hermes whisper shouts, pushing Apollo.

Apollo shoots his brother a disapproving look, followed by a subtle sneer.

"And I actually...like this one." Hermes admits shyly, almost as if he's ashamed of himself too.

Apollo's eyes widen, nearly popping out in shock and disgust for his brother.

"You like...a...human?" Apollo gags, shaking his head vehemently. The very thought nauseated him. Humans were never anything more than flesh to Apollo, not even now.

"We're meant to use them as a means to an end, not actually develop feelings, brother!" Apollo speaks matter of factually, still in disbelief that they're even having this conversation and only minutes before admitting the truth to Yashi Singh, their current reason for squabble.

"She's not...insufferable like the others." Hermes defends, only getting a backhanded slap from his brother.

"If you focused more on the task at hand, maybe we wouldn't be spending our immortality chasing mortal women in vain!" Apollo adds, turning back to the door in an instant once he hears them open.

A woman of mere five feet and seven inches walks in, lips pursed and that tiny freckle on her cupid bow a little more visible with the action. Black braids fall about Yashi's face creating soft shadows under her cheekbones, but the rest of her hair flowed down her back like black ink of a tilted piece of parchment. Her eyes are black, not soulless nor lifeless. Instead they are like two pristine stones of onyx, that light up with a purple flare when touched by candle light.

She tilts her head, revealing one of her golden earrings with one of her braids joining flowing ink on her back.

"Why are you here?" Her sharp tone takes the brothers by surprise, finding it unusual for she was nothing if not a classy, gentle soul. Hermes deemed her to be a hopeless romantic, while Apollo always knew despite her gentleness that she's also very stubborn and short tempered. It's unusual due to her heritage, Athena being her root to Mount Olympus, but they didn't think much of it.

"We needed to talk to you about something very important." Hermes speaks first, not giving Apollo a chance. He is the one that cares for the potter's daughter after all. He admired her pottery skills and even more her beautiful sketches. Her artistry demanded his respect and attention.

"If it's about you being gods of Mount Olympus, spare me. I know of your lies now." She lifts her head high, accentuating her sharp nose with the move, not failing to see the brothers pale once she uncovers their schemes in a simple sentence.

Six words...they knew it was over in six words.

"How?" Apollo asks, noticing Hermes is rendered speechless.

"Athena told me. It was enough for me to see through your lies and I can't believe I let myself care for either of you." Yashi puffed, turning her head to the side trying to forget how they affected her from the start.

The pull was undeniable, so pure and so strong that it took the breath from her lungs. The very first time Hermes smiled at her, she nearly had an orgasm right then and there, let alone when she let him take her in every way possible. She would have taken him as a husband without a second thought, but his deceit had made her heart close for him and there was nothing but a mist of hate in her heart and mind for him now.

She'd forgive his lies had they not mortified her pride and claimed her honor.

"Athena?" Apollo frowns, his incredibly handsome features darkening once he realized that the gods themselves are working against him and his brother. He couldn't understand how or why, wondering why that happened.

"She came to me in a dream and told me all of your dirty little secrets. Now I must ask you to leave at once and never return or the next time I see you I won't be as merciful, nor will my fiance." She dropped the news of her engagement on the brothers, ordering them removed from not only her home but city as well, effectively taking their chance of going home and crushing it to dust.

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Present

"I have rules, so listen up." Y/N licks her lips, trying not to stare at the rock hard abs that basically invited everyone's attention. It's impossible not to stare when two guys with godly physique are half naked before you.

"No touching while I work. Keep the chatter to a minimum...and bend your knees." She adds the last bit with a blush when Grayson's smile grows wide and alluding.

"Bend my knees?" He chuckles at her, suggestively raising his eyebrows and Ethan flicks his shoulder for the flirtation.

"So you don't faint, frat boy." She rolls her eyes at him to cover up how fast her heart is galloping inside her chest.

"Sure. But I can't promise to be quiet." Grayson bites his lower lip before smirking, forming a small dimple Y/N never noticed before, mostly because she both avoided to stare at his face and his company. Her eyes are enthralled with him.

His eyes were like crisp toffee drizzled in melted chocolate and framed with darling lashes. A button nose and burrowed cheekbones, his appearance only to die for. She couldn't help but notice leathery, nearly black strands flopping over his face which to her distaste are veiling some of his enticing features. So perfect, yet so frustrating that she could bear no social contact with that sensuous man.

"Fine." She huffed, reaching out and pushing back the loose strands of his hair back in place. It was an instinct more than conscious action, one that took her by surprise just as much as Grayson.

She blinked fast, realizing what she did, quickly gathering necessary paint to start her work on Grayson so he could let her poor heart rest.

"You know, I never liked this rule about KDRs and Kappa's not interacting." Grayson begins, his eyes flickering from Ethan who laid back on her bed in his underwear and fidgeted with his phone and back to Y/N and her laser focused gaze that burned his thighs thus making his job of keeping his downstairs in check much harder.

"Why is the rule in place anyway?" She looks up briefly, biting down on her lower lip to continue her work. She choose a turquoise paint, a blend of baby blue and green - colors they both love. She remembered that about him.

If that's not fraternizing with the enemy, what is?

"You don't know?" Grayson smirks, averting his gaze to the ceiling for a moment before deciding to inform her thoroughly.

"When Kappa's and KDR were first formed, our leaders were actually in love and dating. However, when they broke up, Kappa's house burned down the same night and Kappa's always blamed our frat for it. Since they didn't have a house and they refused to move in with KDRs as rules demanded, the Kappa sorority was out of commission in Dartmouth for the next two years, but they didn't stand idly by until KDR went down with them. They planted evidence and got our leader and two more members expelled from school and ever since then, the rule remained. It's to remind us that love can turn to hate and partnership to vengeance." Grayson explains, taking note of her small pause when her hand covered the last of his legs and the tattoos he acquired over the centuries.

"Sounds like Romeo and Juliet had they lived and gotten a divorce." She mussed, but her mind was all over the place. She must write it down in the Kappa's book, the sisters should know their history.

"Something like that." Grayson confirms, wiggling his hips lightly which prompted Y/N to giggle.

"Settle down Shakira, I'm done in a few." And with a few giggles in between, she finished Grayson and beckoned Ethan to stand in, deciding to paint him white and black. He always exuded a black and white aura in her mind.

"Do you ever miss home?" Ethan asks, knowing she's a freshman and probably has parents back home who love her.

"I...don't. My father's never home and my mum passed away a few years back." She answers, swallowing tears when her mother crossed her mind. She misses the people, but not the big, empty house.

"Do you?" She inquires before either brother has a chance to offer their condolences or pitiful looks she's used to receiving, but hates nonetheless.

"I do." Grayson interjects, looking to his brother.

"I don't." Ethan shrugs, like none of it hurts him. But he didn't lie.

Hermes likes Earth. He likes indulging himself in all earthly pleasures, women in particular. He's also very bitter about the last couple of years he spent in his world when he worked for Hades, his uncle. Hermes was his successor in case something happened, which made him gleeful. But when Hades took his sister Persephone as his wife against her will and tricked her to stay in the underworld forever...that really made everything impossibly hard for Hermes. He tried to save his sister, he fought for her freedom for he loved her and wished her to have a choice in those she spends an eternity with.

But he failed and he never forgave himself for that.

The only reason why Hermes would be interested in going back is to kill his dear uncle Hades and claim his throne, but never because he misses home. As far as he's concerned Mount Olympus can burn and all the treacherous gods that abandoned him and his brother can burn with it.

But that's not the only reason why.

Hermes doesn't think any girl will take him over Apollo, the actual patron of love and beauty and art. It's a complex from the past where Apollo was worshiped for his good looks and Hermes was more of a worker bee than worshiped by anyone other than the working class and the gods who appreciated him for being a messenger...and well, the dead who needed to cross over into the underworld who found him to be comforting and kind, despite his job. He liked his job for it gave him a chance to travel not only in this world, but other dimensions, however, it does leave one scarred and confidence damaged. He knows his fate is to live and die on Earth and he's made his peace with that.

"Oh." Y/N's unsure what to say, noticing some tension rise in the room, not wanting to start anything between the brothers. She focused on the task at hand, working her hands and her magic on Ethan's tattoos in order to cover them up, finding them just as dark as him.

She always felt Ethan has sharper features than Grayson. His cheekbones are more defined and his eyes are a little more intense which is why he's more intimidating than Grayson, but his entire body gives off a darker vibe, something she can't quite put her finger on, but knows is there.

"I, uh. I should warn you Blair had a video of us singing One thing and she wanted to use it against you." Ethan's words freeze her, making her nails dig into his sides unintentionally.

"Had?" Y/N's eyes connect with his. Ethan's expression was pleasant, with an inkling of wistfulness, while the soft glimmer of his lucid eyes betrayed the poet and the dreamer. He'd never admit it out loud, but he liked the bit of pain her nails caused.

"I may have stolen her phone and set it to factory settings." He glances at the phone he was so taken with previously, bringing about the brightest smile on her face. It destroyed any ounce of worry that overtook her features previously, making him very satisfied with himself.

"If we weren't in a house full of people who'd burn us at the stake, I would hug your mischievous ass right now!" She whisper shouts, jumping on her tiptoes ever so slightly from happiness.

"Your smile is reward enough." Ethan smiles back, genuine and soft for her.

Grayson clears his throat, ending their moment and reminding Y/N to keep working before someone suspects something.

Once done, the boys were all asked to leave and a very annoyed, tomato red Blair congratulated the girls before leaving them alone to their own devices.

Y/N immediately returned to her room, jumping to her bed with a deep sigh. She felt her mind wander like crazy, bouncing between two brothers who both seem to be interested in her which made the matter at hands much worse.

Even the sheets smelled of them after they spent hours rolling on them and she still couldn't force herself to change them. Grayson felt like - spring. He smells clean, like laundry and flowers freshly picked from the garden. Ethan is more musky - like autumn. His smell reminds her of earth after rain, the leafs and a touch of very expensive cologne.

She heard a peck on her window, making her roll on her stomach and lift her head only to find Grayson on his window with a large white paper and black letters she couldn't read properly until she stood and approached the window.

CHECK YOUR PHONE

Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion, turning to her bed to grab her phone only to find a message.

Grayson: Took the liberty of adding my number to your contacts. Hope you don't mind.

He actually types full sentences instead of using abbreviations? I knew I like him for a reason.

Y/N: As long as it remains between us, it's not a problem.

She knew it wasn't right, but how can something so wrong feel so good?

Grayson: Wanna tell me about the art in your room?

Y/N looked around, finding only three paintings and all three looked different. One was a simple red rose, the other a cliff and the third...the one she liked the most was of the ocean at breaking dawn.

She stood up, closing in on the painting, watching every detail for it reminded her of something...of someone. And that's when she sees it - initials...her mother's initials in the bottom right corner.

Putting a hand to the initials, she feels her bottom lip quiver and her eyes brim with tears. There are more ways to immortalize your stay in a Kappa's room and her mother chose art - what she did best, her greatest passion.

She plops on the bed, staring up at the painting.

Y/N: It's my mum's. The ocean one.

She sniffles, seeing dots appear on her screen that indicate he's typing his response.

Grayson: Your mum was a very talented artist. That belongs in a gallery.

Smiling softly at the screen, she glances over her shoulder at Grayson who still stood at his window and he didn't bother hiding it or playing games with her. He's not running from the interest he's shown her and it's refreshing.

Y/N: Thank you for talking to me about this...I might have never seen it on my own. I owe you.

Grayson: Nonsense. I'm just happy you have a piece of her with you. Sweet dreams, pretty girl.

With the last message, she smiled at him, getting his famous tiny wave in return.

She turned the lights off, falling asleep with ease for the first time in a long time. Little did she know she'd be haunted in her dreams now as well.

Standing in darkness, Y/N found herself weary, but not scared. Not really.

"You're finally here." She hears a gaunt voice, turning in circles to find the source but failing until a spark of dark purple appears at her side and a woman takes form.

She stood before her, as clear as anything she had ever seen before, behind her a dark ocean turning wavy and a moon brightly shining, which in turn illuminations her face into almost a ball of light. Her eyes are emerald green, eclipsed by her pupils, her skin as pale as the very moon above her head. Her curved, nearly black lips resembled a smile, the black of her hair cascading down her face which perfectly matches her lavish black dress.

"Who are you?" Y/N whispers in wonder, feeling an unexplained connection to the woman before her, one reminding her of a connection she felt toward the gorgeous twins.

"Your past." The woman reaches out, her icy cold fingertips touch Y/N's shoulder, the black nail polish standing out against her skin.

"Your present." She starts to circle Y/N, her touch bringing shivers to Y/N's body.

"Your future." She steps before her, grabbing both her shoulders almost violently before a sneer-like smile takes her face.

"I am you and you are me and together...we'll bring the world to its knees."

Y/N wakes up, sitting up instantly. Her body drenched in cold sweat, her clammy hands shaken and her body numb and tingling from the nightmare...it felt too real.

Looking to her window, she sees Grayson's asleep, barely covered with sheets and a lot of the paint still clinging to his body. It helps her mind unravel and shake the dream off.

She sits in her bay window, watching Grayson instead of the sky until she lulls herself to sleep.

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Tags: @mutuallynotmutual @lanadeldolans @xalayx @accalialionheart @gia-kerks @historyheart  @heeydolan @heyits-claire @daddygraysonsbitch   @fallinginlove-16  @lanadeldolans @beautifulfound @thearachna-kid  @dinnerwiththedolans  @graydolan12 @justanotherfangurl272 @dxlansfxck  @godlydolans @flowery-dolan

[ecotone99]

[HR] World War Z: The Fellowship (WWZ Fanfiction)

South Gate, California, USA

[It’s a busy night at the local bar, “Auggie’s Tavern.” I sit down and share a drink with the retired welder “Bill the Downer,” of both shots and attitude, as the local patrons explain. He has asked me to simply refer to him as “Bill.” He’s reluctant at first when informed of the nature of my work, but starts to open up after his eleventh shot of cognac and gin. Though only thirty-two, Bill’s hair already has many grey hairs on his unkempt beard. The stories of his journey from the East Coast to the Rockies are well-known among the locals, as he usually draws in a crowd when recounting his many adventures out east, as he did that night. He tells me in private that if I wanted to hear a “better story,” we had to go back to his apartment across the street. His living space has all that an apartment should have: a single bedroom, a living room with a sofa and lounge chair, a coffee table, a TV, a kitchen, a bathroom, and decent lighting. He has a few books lying around the floor and an old desktop computer, but nothing more in terms of entertainment and nothing of luxury. He walks over to his fridge and takes a six-pack of Budweiser, a brand of beer that had just come back into production five months prior to now.]

I try to keep my living expenses to a minimum. Work as a welder pays well, especially with the fat pension they gave me after my work up in the Bay Area was done[1], but living out there in the thick of it all those years ago taught me that I don’t need a lot to live. I kind of had that minimalist way of thinking before the war with Zack, but I doubt you want to hear about all that. Want one?

[I decline.]

C’mon, man. You only had one shot back at the bar. You’re going to make me feel like an alcoholic drinking by myself.

[I take the beer he had already opened. He opens another bottle and takes a sip as he sits down on the old lounge chair. I sit down on the sofa across from him.]

I never trusted televangelists. I always saw them as a bunch of camera whores who came into God’s light for profit. Many of them got loaded with all that cash flowing in from their good followers’ pockets, like that Creflo Dollar. Bought a whole private jet with the money his church collected.[2] Fucking con artists, all of them. My mom was a real Jesus freak and loved watching his sermons every Sunday. “A truly godly man,” she used to say. Those phonies had always had a history of scandals: domestic abuse, hookers and blow, sexual assault, faggotry, you name it. As well-versed as she was in the good book, she never thought to be wary of the wolves in sheep’s cloth.

Does any of that relate to this “better story?”

I’m getting to it.

[He takes a drink of his beer.]

Nine months after leaving Kentucky, I—

Actually, would you mind giving just a quick summary of how you got back from the east back to the west? For context.

Alright, then. [There is a tone of annoyance in his voice.] I left Liberty University in Virginia once it turned out “African Rabies” wasn’t rabies at all. I settled at one of them refugee camps in Richmond, Kentucky, but left after the shit-show at Yonkers and just before the panic-induced rioting in Richmond, thank God for that. After hopping my way through every “safe zone” in the Midwest, rationing my meals to only 1,000 calories a day, I eventually I made my way to a settlement at Leadville, Colorado where I worked as an assistant welder to an old mechanic named Vern. The guy was a hardass, but he taught me well, God rest his soul. When the war in the U.S. was won, I joined the DeStRes Program to train welders and was employed to help with the restoration of the Golden Gate Bridge. That good enough for you, boss?

That’s fine, thank you.

Now as I was saying, it had already been nine months since I left Kentucky. I was maybe fifty miles away from the Kansas-Colorado border. Zack were everywhere on the I-70, so I laid low inside an old Kum & Go gas station for the night. [He chuckles as he repeats “Kum & Go” under his breath.] I had no food left. I had to give my last can of peaches to some loony waving an M1911 at me five days before. Fucker made it off with my bike and pocket knife too. I was starving and severely dehydrated. I don’t remember much from that night, but I must have passed out for a while because when I finally came to, I was in this makeshift infirmary in an old church. There was a woman by my side dressed in all-white clothes. She called others over, also in white, and then a man in a nice suit with a golden cross pendant walked to my bedside. He was greybearded, maybe in his mid-fifties, with these warm, inviting blue eyes, and an equally warm smile. Handsome fella, I admit. I thought he looked familiar but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He told me I was out for two days. “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he then told me. “God has blessed us with a new lamb to add to our Heavenly flock.” His voice sounded a lot like Bing Crosby’s, smooth and crooner like. He held my hand and the woman’s next to me and both said a prayer for my full recovery while the others bowed their heads. At that moment, I knew who he was. [His expression becomes hard with resentment] Keith Fitzgerald, the same fucking televangelist that gave sermons from eight to ten in the morning on the Christian Broadcasting Network my mom loved so much.

Keith Fitzgerald, the leader of the Fellowship of the Pure Cult in Kanorado?

Bingo. Did you know he was once charged with molesting one of the daughters of a member of his church in Chicago back in ’98? He was acquitted for lack of evidence. [He takes a large swig of his beer and jabs his finger at me.] If you ask me, he probably had one of his Chicago politician buddies make sure the incident didn’t make national news; he was a well-connected man, you see. Corrupt bastards, all those Chicago fucks.

[Bill finishes the last of his first beer and then opens another.]

The Fellowship believed some shit about God casting down “the plague,” as they called it, to wipe the world clean of sinners, while only those who followed God’s Word��and, of course, Fitzgerald’s word—would be spared from it.

When I felt I’d recovered enough, I thanked them for their hospitality and told them I was ready to leave. I didn’t want to be there any longer than I had to, but Fitzgerald said that valuable IV bags were used on me during my recovery and that it was only courteous that I work off my “debt” to him and his fellowship. I would’ve told him where he could shove those IV bags if he didn’t have some of his Judges blocking the way out. I ended up working off my “debt” for the next thirteen months.

How did the Fellowship manage to survive out in the open in the Midwest?

As you’ve mentioned before, the Fellowship of the Pure was located in Kanorado, Kansas, just a county away from the Colorado border. The town was practically in the middle of goddamn nowhere and the prewar population was less than 200 people.[3] When I asked one of the followers why there of all places, they told me that Fitzgerald saw it in a vision sent to him by God when asked where to go so that he and "his people" would be safe from the plague. [He waves his hand dismissively] He probably just spent his early childhood there if he knew to set up there. Most people before the war didn't even know Kanorado existed, so I don't see any other explanation. [He takes a drink.]

As you could imagine, the isolation made it perfect for setting up the Fellowship, as the low prewar population meant little to no Zack within a 15-mile radius and the wide-open space made building housing for the hundreds of followers almost a nonissue. Of course, that’s not to say they didn’t make any safety precautions. With the military equipment they managed to scavenge up while they made their pilgrimage from Chicago, they set up a fortified perimeter around that old town.

How did the Fellowship acquire its military equipment?

Your guess is as good as mine. If I had to make a guess, they probably came across some military weapons and vehicles left abandoned when some attempt by the U.S. government to wipe out a zombie horde went FUBAR.

I once tried to get some answers out of the others while working, but all they told was “the Vicar prayed and God provided.” I stopped caring after hearing the same answer the seventh time.

What was life like in Kanorado? Was there any form of hierarchy or bureaucracy in the Fellowship?

Fitzgerald, the Vicar, ran the entire show, and had his most loyal followers, the Bishops, managed the bureaucracy within the Fellowship; they were the ones who assigned the jobs to the men and women, which Fitzgerald called his Parish, in accordance with traditional Christian roles.

The men worked as carpenters, farmers, machinists, doctors, fence builders, and scavengers. Scavengers had the most dangerous job: going into the surrounding towns and cities looking for any food, supplies, and weapons they could find. They sometimes didn’t come back for weeks…and many never came back at all. The most physically built of the men, the Judges, were assigned as patrolmen of Kanorado and the personal army of “His Holiness Vicar Fitzgerald”; they were above the Parish but below the Bishops. It wasn’t uncommon to see them swinging their weight around, cutting in line for food and beating anyone who looked at them wrong.

Women worked as cooks, seamstresses, maids, wet nurses, and other “womanly occupations.” They were expected to take a man—any man—as a husband, as it was “what God wished for the all of His daughters,” as that cunt Fitzgerald put it. Being the leader of the Fellowship and all, he was obviously the only one allowed to have multiple wives, as he wished his descendants to be “as plentiful as those of Abraham.” I had the good fortune of not having a wife; the men outnumbered the women two to one, so there weren’t too many to go around.

The women weren’t allowed to leave their homes unless they were in the company of their husbands or another woman; they weren’t allowed to do man’s work unless they were short-handed in the fields; they weren’t allowed to speak unless spoken to; they weren’t allowed to speak of any abuses within their household, and if they got out of line, their husbands had to publicly beat them into submission—the keywords being “had to.” [He quotes Fitzgerald with a mockingly pious voice.] “If a husband does not take it upon himself to make sure his wife is obedient to him and to the laws of God and the Fellowship, it shall then fall upon the Judges to take up his burden.” I remember one time a young woman, probably around my age back then, was caught trying to steal some produce from the community kitchen. Her husband, a frail, Parkinson’s-ridden seventy-year-old man could barely lift his spoon to eat soup, much less beat his wife. One of the Judges “disciplined” her for the old man, swinging a shovel to the back of her head so hard her right eye shot out of its socket. I can still remember the way her eye dangled about, still attached to the optic nerve. Poor thing went blind.

No one was allowed to leave Kanorado, of course—not if they weren’t scavengers, anyway. As Fitzgerald had always put it, “he who wanders off from God’s Light and His Fellowship shall suffer the fires of Hell in life and in death.” Anyone who was caught trying to escape was burned alive. They burned them in a soundproof urn-shaped building we called Nebuchadnezzar’s Furnace so the glow of burning flesh and wooden crucifixes and screams wouldn’t attract Zack. [Bill takes a long drink of his beer.]

Did the Fellowship ever have any run-ins with zombie attacks?

Only three times while I was in Kanorado. There was one time—back before Fitzgerald had the good sense to put up metal fences instead of chain-linked fences—when a swarm of, I want to say 30 of them, got through a hole that someone failed to fix up. Zack got about five of us—one of them was Fitzgerald’s favorite wife. At that point of the Great Panic, everyone knew no medicine could cure reanimation after dead. Fitzgerald, on the other hand, had a solution. You see, back when he hosted a religious podcast in Cincinnati, he preached his wholehearted belief that the gay could be prayed away. So with that logic, so too could the zombie virus be prayed away. Nobel Prize-winning stuff! [Bill laughs then takes a drink.] He gathered everyone in the chapel room and had us pray for hours for the five bitten until they finally stopped breathing. Fitzgerald’s wife was the first to come back until we all saw him bash her skull in with a candelabrum. He had the Judges do the other four in with axes before they could come back. He became belligerent, blaming us for not having enough faith in God to save his beloved wife. Our rations were cut in half for 40 days as punishment.

The second run-in happened four months later. There was no swarm, but only a single Zack, at least we all thought. One of the Bishops, a piece-of-shit wife-beater named Paul Kaufman, revisited Fitzgerald’s theory of “praying the plague away” by reading scriptures from the Book of Mark to Zack. To no one’s admitted surprise, he got bit and Zack was shot down by a Judge. What did come to everyone’s surprise was that he didn’t turn.

After investigating the issue, Fitzgerald came to the conclusion that one became immune to the plague if he had sex with a virgin, as Kaufman had fucked his new young wife after his last one mysteriously died in her sleep.[4] What happened next…well…let’s just say there was a lot of screaming later that night…and a lot of babies being born around the same time. [He finishes his second beer with a long swig and opens another.] Had we known of quislings, I would have called Fitzgerald out on his bullshit then and there.

And the third time?

A swarm of at least ten times the size as the first one was trying to get through the eastern-most side of Kanorado. By that time, we’d replaced the shoddy chain link fences with eight-foot-high metal plate fences reinforced with concrete foundations which worked in the past. But the walls were tin sloppily welded scraps of old car engine hoods, flattened tin cans, and rusted sheet metal. It worked well for holding off one or two zombies, but the combined physical force of some three hundred Zack, unhindered by cognitive restraint, would have burst through like a finger through a wet napkin. Some of the Judges went to try to hold the fence up, thinking they now had immunity from infection and protection from God. Those stupid fucks were the first to get mauled to death by the invading swarm.

Chaos erupted throughout the whole goddamn town; people screaming, trying to run to the safety of their homes, cracks of gunfire that would only draw more of Zack to them, mothers mercy-killing their babies, and poor saps desperately pleading to God to send Angels to lift them to salvation as Zack tore their stomachs open. In the panic, I decided then was a good time to get the hell out of there. My plan was to make my way to the western-most side of Kanorado, break into the garage, steal one of them military trucks they had stored away, and ram my way through the wall and keep on going west. I was just about to get the keys from the wall hangers when four Judges dragged two women into an office building connected to the garage. I hid in a tool shed before they could see me. The Judges were covered in blood and the black liquid; their expressions were that of wild all-eyed desperation. They must’ve been bit or at the very least got that black shit in their mouths and eyes. Two of the Judges forced one woman into a corner with their rifles pointed at her so she wouldn’t try to run. The other two…

[Bill stares off. There is a long pause.]

You don’t want to talk about that if—

No. It’s ok. [He takes a deep breath and a long drink.] The other two Judges pinned the other woman—no, it was a girl, couldn’t have been any older than sixteen…they pinned her down on a table and…tried to save themselves from becoming infected. They gagged her with a ripped piece of her dress so she wouldn’t scream. [His face is now blank, void of emotion, and his voice now in monotone. His keeps his gaze from mine.] It didn’t even matter that those who thought themselves immune got fucking killed. They had a single hair of hope and they clung to it.

After they were done with her, they choked her to death, probably to save ammo for Zack and…went on to the other woman. She tried to fight back at first, but…there’s only some much such a small woman could do against four apes in uniform. Her head was held down by one Judge and she…she saw me watching her through a crack in the tool shed door.

[His voice becomes softly quiet.]

Her eyes were full of pleading. “Save me, stranger! Don’t let these fucking animals do this to me!” What could I have done? Grab a hammer or a wrench from the tool shed, rushed the Judges, save the woman, and drive off into the night with her? [He forces a chuckle.] And maybe we’d even fall in love and start a family, telling the story about how Mommy and Daddy met in the middle of fucking Armageddon, like in those Hollywood movies?

[He covers his mouth with a fist to stifle a sob and tightly squeezes his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears.]

I wanted to live so badly. I wanted to go back home. I wanted to get as far away from that fucking place as possible. And because I wanted to live, I…closed my eyes and covered my ears…

[Bill drops his beer on the floor and covers his face. After crying for a while, he picks up his beer and drinks whatever is left in the bottle.]

I’m glad I never found out what happened to my parents. I’m glad I never married. I’m glad I’ll never have children. It means they’ll never have to hear the story of how I let two women die because I was too much of a fucking coward to at least die trying to save them. Keith Fitzgerald. I hope he’s burning in Hell.

[1] During the Great Panic, the Golden Gate Bridge was blown apart as a way to keep the zombie hordes from swarming into San Francisco from both sides. Reconstruction of the bridge employed over 2,000 workers from the DeStRes program over the course of three years.

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[2] Before the war, Pastor Creflo Dollar set up a fundraiser to pay for a Gulfstream G650 private jet worth 65 million USD.

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[3] The population of Kanorado before the Zombie War was only 153 total residents. In fact, the town never had a population of more than 400 people in its entire history.

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[4] It is most likely that Kaufman’s wife may have died of Asymptomatic Demise Syndrome (ADS).

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