I Enjoyed A Picnic While The World Was At War

Death enjoys a picnic while witnessing (and taking part in) the last battle at the end of the world. A bit silly.

It was Armageddon. It was Ragnarok. It was the war that decided the fate of the world, the universe, all of Creation even. It was Good versus Evil; Heaven versus Hell; Amon Ra versus the Serpent That Never Dies; Asgard and the other eight realms versus Fenris, the Wolf beneath the Tree, free at long last to wreak destruction upon all.

Or, at least, that was what ran through the minds and imaginations of the every soldier, general, captain, admiral, knight, brigand, thief, mercenary and sellsword present.

And then, of course, there was me. I have my part to play in this as well.

The war had begun. I was sitting at a picnic table on a hill, in front of a large tree, enjoying a very lovely picnic all by myself.

I am working.

Each and every individual fighting on the battlefield had their own hopes and ideals and philosophies they believed would be fulfilled. Some believed their victory would herald the Kingdom of God. Others, the long dreamed and long denied victory of Lucifer, the light bearer, also called Satan, the adversary, at last dethroning his Maker. There were those who believed they fought for the preservation of Odin’s rule. And there were those who believe their victory would bring about the end of all gods, of all belief. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled loudly before the battle, and those who believed had believed their storm gods were with them this mighty day. And there were those on both sides who believed that the Lord their God had blessed their cause. Others believed He was extending His wrath upon all present. For those who did not believe in anything but science, it was simply atmospheric discharge.

All they had to do was win the battle, to put their enemies to rout, to slay them. Slay them with swords, with axes, with bows and arrows, with all manner of remorseless pieces of metal and modern military weaponry; nuclear warheads and cannons and machine guns and shrapnel.

On both sides, there were gods amongst the soldiers. I saw Odin on one side slaying men at random, brimming with pride and laughing at the carnage. I think I’ll even the playing field a little. With a snap of my fingers, Odin appeared on the large tree behind me, hanging by his own entrails. With one last flicker of life, he looked down on me with his one good eye, wide with fear and confusion, while I helped myself to a slice of apple pie. Scrumptious. Odin’s ravens Hugin and Munin, Thought and Memory were circling overheard. They began feasting on their master’s flesh as he hung on the tree.

Far above me, there were legions upon legions of angels with drawn weapons. Higher above them was a fierce white light that none paid attention to but me. Not even I could touch them from where I was.

On the horizon, the sun had at last became scarcely visible behind the clouds that day. Golden light stubbornly pierced through random points. 

A few waves of my hand and thousands of more soldiers and gods and demigods fall. There was death by the sword, by the gun, by the missile. 

Finally, the war was over. There were no more battle cries or songs sung by the dying. All was quiet, save for the soft blowing of the wind. I finished eating and cleaned up and placed the spare napkins and paper plates neatly into the picnic basket. I brushed bits of crumb of the picnic table. The birds will be very content with the feast I've provided for them.

All was reaped in their due time. My work here was done.

Author's Note

My first story since my prolonged absence. I hope you like it.