Previously…

Entering my opulent room, I collapsed onto the duck-feather-matressed, diamond-and-sapphire-embroidered-blanketed, black-quilted, black-pillowed, oak-supported king-sized bed and sighed. Mortals could be a troublesome bunch. It makes me glad to be a God, and not one of them.

I would have killed myself by now if I was one of them.

I let out a long, theatrical breath, stretching myself out on the bed which happened to have a net worth of twelve million dollars. My luxurious dark hair found its way into my (glowing) eyes, and I huffed in irritation, blowing the gorgeous fibres back into their rightful position. Now was not the time to indulge myself in self-gratification, though I was, of course, absolutely breathtaking. No, I had more important things on my mind at present.

Something had been eating away at my divine ego, gnawing at my very holy soul. There was a certain resemblance between me and….I hardly could think it…. Mor….mor…

"Mortals," I blurted out. There.

The fact was, I looked like a (albeit more handsome) human being.

It could not be.

Fuck. I rolled over onto my side, clutching my trembling hands together, wide eyes blinking rapidly. "W-Watson! WATSON!"

When he didn't arrive in the three seconds to which I was accustomed to him arriving in, I grabbed the intercom that lay on my bedside table and screamed into it: "WATSON! WATSON, YOU TRASH, GET IN HERE!"

In a grand total of five seconds, Watson came scrambling in and bowed at my bed, "Yes master? What's wrong master? You sound distressed master!"

I staggered to my feet, rolling off the bed and struggling to control my erratic breathing. "Watson…" I began shakily, a hand to my chest, "Do you think…"

"Think what, my Lord!?"

"…Do you think I'm…like you?"

The poor simpleton looks highly confused, a trait of his species that I hope I do not share, "What do you mean, master!?"

"Do you think I'm…a mortal?" I can barely get the word through my tightened throat, clenched teeth and pursed lips.

Watson's jaw drops. "God forbid!" he screams. Scampering towards me, he grabs my hands and holds them to his heart. "A mortal, master?! Do you really think I would serve a mere mortal?!"

I look scornfully down at him, an imperious frown tugging at my lips. "What, you consider yourself worthy to serve a God?"

"No! No, master!" The pitiful creature throws himself onto the floor at my feet, sobbing inconsolably. "It is only due to your great benevolence….Oh, Lord….Oh, my master….."

I smirked down at him, approving mildly of the praise he was lavishing me in. I was foolish to think that I am anything like the trashy worm he and his kind are. How ridiculous and stupid I was to even consider such an option.

"…out of the way," I kicked the snivelling creature out of the way, fully determined in who I am now. I guess I'll have to….thank him for this rediscovered self-confidence, as much as I may loathe the idea. Perhaps I will not kick him as hard next time.

Only next time, of course.

Power surged through me as I swept magnificently down my gold-plated halls. My cape billowed behind me, its black feathers creating a display of awe-inspired wonder. I forced Watson to lift my finger for me to press the elevator button, allowing the creature to carry me into the lift, as something entirely unacceptable occurs inside me.

"MATILDA!" I scream. "I FEEL THE SLIGHTEST AMOUNT OF HUNGER. MATILDDDAAAAA!"

The mortal woman scurries to meet me when Watson carries me out the elevator, black feathered cape fluttering behind me. She tries to make feeble excuses, but I see through her glass-clear lies. With being a God comes the ability to tell lies from the raw, brutal truth.

"DON'T GIVE ANY OR YOUR BULLSHIT EXCUSES, YOU WORM!" I scream, lashing out at her, "THIS ISNT WHAT I PAY YOU A SHILLING A DAY FOR! NOW GET ME SOME GODDAMNED FOOD YOU FUCKING WHORE! DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM!?"

The tremoring whore gasps, looking dangerously close to fainting, which, given the situation I am in at the moment, would be the ultimate selfishness.

"WELL?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! OR SHOULD I CUT THAT DOWN TO 1/8 OF A SHILLING PER WEEK?!"

Watson tugs at me like a small child. He is one mentally. I snarl in his general direction and turn back to my disgustingly ugly maidservant. "Look, just get me the fucking food, alright?" At my nudge, Watson hoists me back onto his back.

"Master," he grimaces, and I hear an odd sound. Like breaking, or something. "Master…I am….weak…."

"DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FLYING FUCK AT THIS PRESENT TIME?" I pause, "OR, INDEED, EVER!?"

The fuckboy does not answer, choosing instead to collapse under my light weight and scream in agony. I swarm up like an angry God and kick him, "YOU WEAK MORTAL! HOW DARE YOU SEE IT FIT FOR ME TO TOUCH THE SATAN-TAINTED FLOOR!?" I hit him again, "WORTHLESS."

I turn to Matilda, and am enraged to see that she has not brought me food on a platinum platter yet.

"Excuse me bitch," I snap, "Where the royal fuck is my dinner?"

She quivers. "Uh, it, I….it's in the oven, my lord… I am so very, very sorry for the delay, I will go collect it immediately –"

"TOO FUCKING LATE, YOU WHORE!" I draw my hand back, allowing my godly powers to surge through me, before I deliver a bone-shattering blow to Matilda's horrendous face.

She is out cold instantly.

"That's it," I declare, straightening my cloak like the superior entity I am. "I'm hiring a new maid. No. Slave. That way I will not have to put a dent in my glorious wealth."

"Oh, master!" Watson clasps his hands together adoringly. "Only a genius could have come up with such a thrillingly wonderful plan."

I push past him. "Gather Matilda's things and throw her out," I snap over my shoulder. "Have the potential employees in the grand hall by one hour."