Snippet #1240151

Danse Mors bristled beneath the ignorant commentary of the human being. Unlike other gods, he was used to being judged by something so small and it irked him. However he had run out of things to say. All he could think of was how much he wanted to leave; leave the shop, leave this skin. Anxiety was foreign to him but not to the body that inwardly writhed with the need to hide. He scoffed at the idea that thinking, reasoning creatures were what they made. If the incessent squirming of his nerves like little worms in his guts were any clue to the reason behind these humans, they were more instinct than reason. "Fine, we're bad creators. We're the higher power and we don't have a clue what we're doing... Why don't we just scrap the whole damn thing? Whose idea was it to create humans? We're fine with animals. They're small and they stay put within the natural order... Humans don't. They deviate that order and they take pride in it. Artifical means of lengthening life, fighting disease and to laugh at me entirely, they include vampires and zombies into their little death cults and frankly, I'm not amused!". He wraps his arms around himself, gently stroking his skin as if to calm the rippling tide beneath. "Death is a beautiful thing, it does not glitter!"he snapped. Danse settled down in his seat and heaved a great sigh, "But we'll never get out of this damn place without some kind of resolution so what do you suggest, human?"