The Pretty Boy smiles at me. I only gape at him because I'm sure I killed him last time. I even used my biggest butcher knife, just to get the point across. Now, that's a pun, and normally I'd laugh, but my God, he's back with a vengeance. And really, that should be the end of it because now I'm talking like a movie cliche. But what's important is that he's here and he's reaching out to take my hand.

A montage of tortures plays out in his eyes, sparking at the contact between us. In these obsidian eyes, I glimpse Prometheus chained to that unforgiving rock, the eagles feasting on his liver. Punished for gifting Man with the secret of the gods: fire. And then I taste sulfur in my mouth when the Christ raises his head wearily, his head a crimson crown. Blood drips from his wounded hand, every droplet splashing on the ground below. I kneel like a pilgrim at his feet and send my prayers up to heaven, all wrapped with my remorse in ribbons.

"He's not your god, claro," the Pretty Boy whispers. "I am."

I have been plagiarized fourteen times in the last two weeks. For this reason I am taking down everything but the first chapter for my long stories, so I can preserve my timestamps and prove that I wrote the stories first. If you guys need more information, please refer to the plagiarism notes for my long stories. I am now in the process of taking down this one-shot.

I hope you guys understand my decision. Please feel free to contact me via email, Livejournal, PM, review, twitter, or my personal website. Check my FP profile. Thanks.