His backbone arched as he stretched against the railing, a yawn expanding his mouth. To anyone who bothered looking, he may as well have become an alley cat, and to be fair, he felt like one, too.

Colossal skyscrapers, illuminated from within so that each window glittered, giving off the appearance that the orange-black sky was being pierced by spears of gold mosaic. Across the sidewalk, traffic lights blinked every so often on an empty street. Dionysus sniffed. That was the issue.

Don't mistake him, Dionysus wasn't the most troublesome of the gods—certainly not. Ares had become so erratically restless of late that he'd been frequenting trips to the Middle East. That's where all the current chaos is, anyways. Sometimes, when Dionysus was in a more melancholy mood, he entertained the idea of joining him. Usually he keeps his violent tendencies to a minimum: animal sacrifices, bacchanals, orgies and all that. Really, it's a bit of a wonder that there are still those who believe in him in this era. More than you'd think, that's for sure. And as swell as all that is, right now Dionysus is thinking wistful thoughts.

He swirled his half bottle of merlot. He was so in the mood to watch a chariot race, a gladiator match, bull jumping. The bloody kind, or a knife fight, or something. But for some dumb reason—he can't really care to recall—he ended up in this city. Cincinnati, probably one of the most boring cities in the States. Not a single knife fight in sight, and the bars were just terrible. Low maintenance, no class at all...

It was only what, 2 something in the morning? He was only about 30 something drinks in, and he wasn't all that drunk, really he wasn't. They kicked him out, anyways. And he probably would have smote them, except he's not one to care much, especially right now. The guys in there were loud as hell, anyways. Just a group of teenagers, not that much to look at, but they sure acted tough. Dionysus loved humans like that. They were an interesting bunch, really stupid and all. Kind of like Ares. A breathy chuckle slipped through Dionysus' dry lips, a tongue snaking out to lick them hungrily. Maybe a few pranks would shake him out of this daze, help him loosen up a bit. They looked the type to get easily riled up. They also looked the type that could do with walking home. A cat-like grin already spreading across his face, he slipped from the railing and, as if melting into the shadows, slunk unseen towards the parking lot.

The car wasn't hard to trace. Boys like that—gangster-looking ones—had a certain essence you couldn't mistake. Except this one was particularly smelly, Dionysus thought as he stood in front of a blood-red Mercedes Benz. It was a pretty cool car. C-class, brand new. If he were Hermes, he'd probably be formulating strategies on stealing it, rather than what Dionysus was about to do.

Maybe it was because he was slightly drunk, but he couldn't help but stifle a hysterical giggle as a pack of illegal fireworks formed in the grip of his hand. Yes, yes, it's terribly original. If he was feeling really creative, he might have summoned a panther or 2. He'd have loved to see the look on the owner's look when he found a midnight black beast lounging around in the front seat of his beloved Mercedes. Sure, there'd be a wild animal loose in the city, but in fairness it was a horribly boring city, so they'd might as well thank him. Except he wasn't totally in the mood right now. No, a classic little exploding would do the trick.

He ambled his way around the perimeter of the car. It was a bit of a dilemma, as to whether or not the rocket should go in the backseat or or simply under the fuel filter. Dionysus pondered this for a moment. He wasn't so much in the mood for bloodshed. A supposed bombing of a car carrying several teenage boys would definitely draw a lot of attention, and besides, he didn't want to get into the car. He could unlock it with just a snap of his fingers, but he just didn't want to sit in there, that's all. This aura really was... pungent.

After a minute he decided. He'd just latch it under the fuel filter. He'd watch from a distance, probably over there by that tree, and right when they were drawing close, he'd snap his fingers, and...

The rocket stuck just fine by itself, he just needed to put it there. Squatting on his haunches, he ducked his head just to check. The rocket was wedged snugly against the filter, the way lovers cuddled together. No rope seemed needed. Simpering a grin, Dionysus rose halfway to his feet when he froze.

Holding him rooted to the spot was a pair of enormous eyes, staring at him from the backseat window.

A girl.

* Thank you so much for checking out my book Rage!!! This is basically a new experiment I've been doing about figuring out my writing style and all that. This book is meant to be the first book of my 3 book series centered around gods and unfortunate people. Yes, there will be angst. There will be gore. And there will be SMUT.

I also want to put out there that the subjects that I put into these books aren't meant to make sport of any who go through extreme hardships, therefore please don't get angry if you find something you don't like. If you don't like the topics then don't read, especially if you deal with depression, anxiety, trauma, etc. I'm scared it may be too much for you and the like.

But if you are ok with all of that, then read on! And comment on what you think, I appreciate it. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, and keep reading!