The Holy Tea Party
rating: +1+x

medium.jpg

When I was a mere civilian, or in other words, when I still believed in superstitions, I once went to an astrologer's tent where it looked like it would have a crystal ball on the table. I felt the same soothing feeling I felt there as I fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes, the place was pitch black. It must be a black tent.

I carefully stood up. At least there was gravity. If there was none, I could have gone mad.

I saw a light in the distance, bright against the darkness. I approached it to see an elegantly set table. On top of the table was a tea set.

Hesitantly, I sat on the chair.Then I saw something move in the distance. An old man in a grey suit and a fedora came close. I knew that old man.

"Christopher." The old man said.
"Should I call you as 990?"

"Do as you want, but I prefer Richard."


The old man put down the teacup with a relaxed expression, but Christopher didn't lay a finger on it uncomfortably. The teacup soon filled with tea again, and the cookies magically reappeared as it was grabbed from the plate. Nibbling on a cookie, Christopher looked at the old man having another cup of tea.

"You looked rather bothered." The old man spoke after putting down the cup.

"Right person at the wrong time - it would have been terrific to see you earlier." Christopher finally held his cup. "Free tea and cookies and all."

"There's no coincidence. Did you think I came by just to see you? I'm here because you went through what you did."

"I knew it. It feels even worse to be proven right."

"I like your honesty." The old man chuckled. Christopher let out a faint smile as if he felt a bit less miserable. Maybe it was because I spent a long time without anything resembling a conversation.

"You have your designation, so I called you, as a greeting to our world. How do you like your number?"

"What's the point in hating? It's not like I chose it myself."

The two kept chatting, chuckling more as the conversation went on. Christopher gradually felt his initial tension relieving. Or so it seemed.


Small talk always has a crack. Chris was adept at finding them and could easily barge through that gap.

"Anyways, what's your real purpose?"

The old man didn't seem all that surprised. Christopher wasn't as well, as this was what he expected.

"Was our chit-chat not enough for you?"

"Nope. We keep beating around the bush."

The old man let out a chuckle-like sigh. Christopher could see the playfulness leave his eyes.

The old man spoke in a lower voice.

"Do you believe in God?"


"Fools say that science denies God. However, it is quite the opposite. They discovered the Big Bang, but they do not know what was before it or why it happened. Beyond that is not their domain, but God's."

I opened my eyes. I see a ceiling familiar than I thought. The Level-4 Containment room was not uncomfortably soft but was instead bone-chillingly hard. I sat upright on the bed and put the palm of my hand on my head. All these sudden events gave me a headache, and my heart rushed accordingly.

"Now, is there a supreme God? There is. It is that God is not what you think; Jehovah, Allah, or to be generous, Pangu. He just exists there."

I looked up at the firmly locked steel door. Outside that door, in some room same as mine, there are people, same as me.

"But one day, that supreme God was torn to pieces. Bearing the cosmos in his body, he scattered into numerous beings. Some descended on this Earth, some on a distant planet, some on another dimension, and some might have fallen on a parallel universe different from ours. We are the individual shards of that God."

My security ranks prevented me from viewing many SCP objects, so I did not know how many shards there were. However, they were here. Maybe the Bigmac grandpa might have been one of them. Or maybe, he was undoubtedly one of them.

"Why, I do not know. Maybe he was shattered because he is. But one thing is for certain - he didn't shatter himself. If he did, every one of us would have been perfect."

Here they are, numerous incomplete, holy shards, locked in a room made by far lesser humans, longing.

"Because we are incomplete, we need an heir, like humans want children. Oh, we are still immortal. We are just more humane than our mother shard. Immortality isn't always good; it gets boring after some billion years. Do you now know why I called you?"

I pictured the containment chamber that son of a bitch might be in. I couldn't control my breath. The door suddenly started to warp. Its outline crumbled into a point and disappeared as darkness fell again.

"You are chosen, as a being, same as the next God."

I can see a table and a chair in the distance.


"My words weren't skilled enough, seeing that you woke up almost immediately."

"How much more is out there?"

"I do not know. Think that whatever you don't know where it came from is most likely us."

Deep breath.

"I do not want to be God."

"Understandable. Not that I'm sure you have a say in it."

"Can't you talk about this?"

"Why should I? As descendants of a being that just existed, we do not feel belonging between us. If you want, you can talk yourself-"

A gun suddenly manifested on my hand. I pulled the trigger angrily, but the bullet went past the old man's body.

"You're quick-tempered." The old man spoke furiously but somewhat with a chuckle. He then proceeded to pull a chair behind him and put it beside him.

I saw a man standing in the distance.


I opened my eyes.

I pulled the trigger. The bullet changed its direction right in front of him as if it refused him. I lost my temper and fired my gun as I felt a surge of rage through me.

I sat up in the bed. The light was very dim, giving me a dream-like feeling - all the more reason to be more annoyed.

The bullet did not kill him. We looked at each other, with space just enough to fit a barrel of a gun. My breath got faster. He grinned, relaxed.

My breath was racing, as this was a situation that I couldn't imagine.

He hugged me. It was too vivid to be a dream. 'You can't even run', he must have thought - hence that smug, relaxed smirk he gave off.

I do not run away, neither do I let you do what you want.

As I thought, I let the veil of darkness cover me again.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License