MicroHorror

She had been accused of being a false god. Someone, somewhere, had found proof that she had been born. Ishtar sighed. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was tied to a stake, about to be burned alive for her crimes. Ishtar looked around, reddish eyes taking note of the people surrounding her. Men held torches, their wives huddled together whispering blasphemies. Her faithful virgins wept at her feet, next in line to be executed. Ishtar adored her followers. She adored this world. But as with all things, it must eventually come to an end. The men came forward, lighting the pine straw and wood at her feet. She glared at them through a curtain of black hair.

“Back to the drawing board,” Ishtar said to them with a smile… then she destroyed the world.