What Happens If You Mock God の小説・ストーリー

Noah Ellis had a theory about Mason Reed. The theory was this: Mason was the most self-aware person Noah had ever met who worked the hardest to pretend he wasn't. Everything Mason did, the jokes, the charm, the easy confidence that filled whatever room he walked into, was deliberate. Not fake, Noah had never thought it was fake, but deliberate, the way an architect is deliberate, building something functional and beautiful that also happened to hide its own foundations. Most people never looked for the foundations.

It seemed like under all the darkness was a God who liked to enjoy himself. "Rules are simple. We go around in a circle starting with me. I'll spin the bottle and chose what dare or truth I want the God it landed on to do. That God completes the task or decides to drink the dark bane in the middle. Nobody is allowed to quit and everything besides death or torture is allowed." He said with a smile. It was a simple game and if I was smart everything would be okay.

"I doubt so," "Despite the hardness of your heart, God still loves you and He will keep on extending his arm for you." Mace smiles despite the pain that stings within her chest, 'It's not that this is the first time someone offended me by mocking my God, but… it's always painful knowing and seeing that people don't have faith in Him.' she thought as she stopped herself from crying.

Mocking. "I'm going to help you get to your parents…" one of the guys said in a chipmunk voice, mocking me. And when the boy I thought was just a kid opened his mouth to speak, I knew immediately I was staring at a fully blown grown man, trapped in this body. He grabbed a tennis racket in the corner of the room and walked slowly towards me. "Bitch, you dared call me boy?" The others laughed again and now, I was visibly trembling. "We are ready to let you go if you've changed your mind." His little hands held my chin, raising my face to meet his. He smacked after getting a good look at me and looked away, letting my chin go roughly.

My knees trembled, but not only with awe, but with a fragile, desperate hope. He smiled, but it wasn’t one with warmth. It was mockery with a hint of disgust. “So it’s true what they say,” he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “The Goddess really does have a twisted sense of humor. And at times she does make mistakes.” The laughter that followed hit me in the chest. My chest burned, my breath hitched out of panic and a sense of impending doom. “Alex… please. We’re mates. This is—”

What did that say about him? “And I assume she still holds her scales upright, blinded because all she cares about is virtue and morality?” he said in a mocking tone. “She truly loves being worshiped by humans as some sort of martyr.” Taking a step back, and made himself busy by creating a shadow-figure that mimicked the goddess balancing her scales. She clumsily corrected her scales as an elephant sat on one side, clearly not doing her job very well. He closed his fist, squishing the shadow, and scoffed.

“Wow. God talks to you? That’s great. Could you tell him that I’d like world peace and Elvis 73 Laurann Dohner back? I dream about him hooking up with some cool metal band. They could make some kickass music together.” The man gawked at her but finally closed his mouth. His eyes rounded while his face reddened. “You mock me? You mock God?” “No. I’d never make fun of God. What I mock is that you’re an idiot who doesn’t seem to know it. Instead of wasting your time here you should be getting your own life together. I wonder what God has to say about judging others? Remember that one? I do, from Bible school. I never once saw a bumper sticker that says Jesus or God loves you

"I'll let you be arrogant for a while longer. In less than three months, you'll kneel in front of me and bow down to me." In the ring, none of the internal members who had fallen had any movement. Those who had fainted seemed to be really dead. At this moment, Samuel’s image was that of a real God of Massacre, and he did not care about the serious consequences that would be brought to him by the Earth Core. In the eyes of others, this was something worthy of worship.

What he received was a a loud voice filled with mockery. “Hahaha! This distasteful blood must belong to my brother! Did you really think that we would give you the key to freeing the demons so easily?! Did you think so lowly of us?! Well, that is unfortunate. Because now you would have to live with the knowledge that you were tricked by the gods you called too stupid to stand next to you. Hahaha! What an idiot!!!”

“If you pass, you’ll be forgiven and allowed to participate in the final selection exams tomorrow.” “And if I don’t?” Kema hesitated before answering. “No one who has committed such sacrilege has ever returned unscathed. Most lose their divine energy . . . and their sanity.” His words chilled me, but they also ignited something deep within—a defiance that refused to be snuffed out. “I’ll prove them wrong,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear coiling in my chest. “I’ll conquer the test of the gods and come back stronger.” Kema watched me for a long moment before nodding. “May the Great Gods grant you their mercy.”