It was sometime after my death. Floating in the darkness I realized why things had gone the way they did.
Seven times I had been wronged.
First – it was my parents. They used me as a punching bag for their frustration on each other. I was their best son but they cast me aside for my brothers and sisters because they were all capable of making more money than me.
Second – it was my siblings. They used my generosity and kindness and made me do things they didn't have any interest in doing but had to. But when the time came that I needed help with something, they turned their backs.
Third – it was my schoolmates. They used me for all sorts of things. Help with homework, being the sacrificial lamp for their pranks and many more instances of me being helpful to them had occurred over the years. When I even tried to ask for help though, they would run away or make fun of me and advertently deny me.
Fourth – it was my teachers. Even as I did everything I was told to, and I was told to do more than anyone else in the school, they never stopped trying to find reason to screw me over. And in the end, they succeeded and I ended up becoming a high-school dropout.
Fifth – it was my colleagues at work. Just like my schoolmates, they used for me every single thing and turned their backs on me when I needed help. For those reasons, I kept having to find new job every two months and was forced to live with minimal expenses.
Sixth – it was my crushes. They acted like they were interested in me just to make a joke out of me later by humiliating me in the worst ways possible.
And seventh – it was me. I convinced myself that I could live with everything that happened. I kept deceiving myself with that stupid notion. So, in the end, when my fragile delusions finally became too heavy a burden to carry, I slit my throat.
And so, when I had died and was floating in that darkness, I started thinking – why was it that my life was so fucked up?
Far, far away, I could see a light. That was the light that all souls end up in after their death and before an Angel or Demon comes to take them to Heaven or Hell respectively. I saw countless souls pass by there. It was truly such a magnificent light.
But I was there. Far, far away from that light – I was there floating in the darkness. Why, you ask? Well, the answer to that was what I had come to realize in the countless hours I had spent floating there.
All of the people who had screwed my life, they weren't really bad people; they were just scared shitless of me. By even coming near me, they felt an urge to run away. That was how terrified they were of me. But because I had been such a nice guy, they ended up turning that fear into a fragile superiority complex. The ones who couldn't that always kept their distance from me.
Why were they so scared of me though? That's obvious, isn't it? I was the God … of Darkness.
I embody darkness. Fear, anger, hate, contempt, jealousy, lust, sloth, arrogance – all these dark emotions were my bread and butter. I was stupid to not have realized this when I was alive. But, I realize this then, after dying.
And so, I decided I wouldn't let that be the end. After all, can dying truly be the end of a God? I don't think so.
The God of Darkness I was. Negativity gave me power. And I decided that I would use this power – this power that I would get in abundance to become the strongest, the richest, the most feared, the most supreme God in all things.
I had lived a life of being stepped on. In order to make up for it, I needed to live a life of stepping on.
If God of Darkness was what I was, then my journey would be the darkest, vilest and edgiest rise to the power anyone would have ever seen.
And so my story began as I used all the power left dormant inside me to do the one thing that needed to be done – reincarnation.