Marietta, Ohio, burned in the background. There wasn’t much to burn, granted, but what was there went up faster than a corn fire in high wind. I didn’t even know if you could set corn stalks on fire, but I supposed it was possible. Anything was flammable if it was made so by the right combinations of additives.
       There were two rivers that joined in front of the town. The Muskingum, which was brown and murky, and the Ohio, which was quite clear. When the Muskingum poured into the Ohio, it split the river in half. Part of it clear, part of it muddy and dull. I had my feet in the muddy half when Lucifer came and sat down beside me. He didn’t say a word, just sat there and waited.
       On my opposite side, the Rev. Brian was bloody and beaten and smoking a pink cigarette slowly, like he was enjoying the last thing he’d do on Earth. He’d been sucking on that damn coffin nail for hours.
       “You know, keeping me here won’t take it back,” the Rev. said.
       “Shut up.” I sighed, stretched, and then collapsed into a hunched, slouching position again. I kicked my feet in the water, the current took away the tiny waves I’d created. “I just need to think right now.”
       “Your mom just needs to think right now,” the Rev. came back.
       I ignored him the best I could.

Dear Sheos,        My house is burning down? Can you help?        Patience

 
Pat,
       I didn’t start the fire, but I remember who did.
       All this came to pass because I was tired of running from the spider-baby [see The Amazing Adventures of Sheos #10, 11]. He’d kept me on my toes for the longest time, but I was getting bored with the chase and decided to meet him head on. I set myself up in a loft above Barking Dog Books and waited. I’ve never been much on waiting around, but lucky for me, I suppose neither was the spider-baby. I’d only been there a week when he made himself known by collapsing the streetside wall of my apartment. The bricks came down in a cascade of masonry. There was no explosion, no wrecking crew, all that was seen when the dust settled was the spider-baby crawling in to my living quarters by way of the gaping hole.
       “Cute,” I said, and we rushed toward each other.
       So the fight began.
       You’d think, looking at the little guy, that restraining the spider-baby would be somewhat easy. He was roughly the size of a baby doll, about the same weight of a bundle of laundry. The only problem with keeping hold of the little bastard was the addition of so many different appendages. He was quick and trained, so though it looked silly for me to be struggling with the creature, I was having to use every trick I had to keep myself from falling to his tiny might. Still, I was distracted, and somehow found myself at the edge of the hole he’d made in my apartment. I was barely able to get the obligatory curse out before I was falling down to the ground.

Dear Sheos,        I’ve been locked out of my townhouse and now I’ve got a few hours of free time before my wife gets home. What should I do to help me pass this newfound excess of time?        In Need of a Key

 
Keyless Joe,
       I always suggest that people carry a book with them in case of just such an emergency. Since I doubt you are one of these mindful people, you could always try calculating the digits of Pi to the 50th decimal point. Or, better yet, you could go for a long run, or at least a walk, and discover more of your surrounding town.
       These are all wonderful things to get involved in, but the best thing for you to do is climb into the bedroom window that you leave open all the time. You know the one on the 3rd floor that’s just out of reach from the deck? I’m sure you could make it. And keep your sandals on when you’re shimmying up the balcony post. Good luck!
       The hand to hand battle lasted for about a week, and by the time we gave up on that mode of attack, the armory, the Putnam St. bridge, and just about all of Harmar Village was reduced to rubble. The whole scuffle was broken up by an explosion on the levee. Both the spider-baby paused and ran to go see what had happened.
       Fire. So much fire. I’d only seen that much fire in one other place: Hell.
       There was a figure coming out of the flames. It didn’t take too long to recognize Lucifer [see Delusional Demigod #4], but I had to let the fact that his face was quite urgent process in my brain for a while. Before I had a chance to ask what was wrong, I was sent flying into the air, courtesy of the explosion behind me.
       I crash landed onto an old railroad bridge, and when the ringing in my ears stopped I could only barely hear the crackle of an incoming prayer coming through. By the time the ringing stopped, the prayer was finished. Thank fate for small favors, she was one hell of a dame.
       I was joined on the bridge by a man holding a rather large weapon on his right shoulder. The fire silhouetted his form, but as soon as he spoke I knew who it was.
       “Have you dressed up for it?” Krogg asked [see Sheos the Great # 9] . His voice had a tone of triumph in it. I had to put a stop to that. Faster than he could aim the cannon on his shoulder, I was on him and beating the General to a pulp.
       “How’d you know to come here?” I asked him.
       “The bounty,” he said.
       I thought back to what death had told me before spider-baby had entered the picture:

Dear Sheos, Did you know there was a bounty just put on your head? I’m thinking of collecting.

 
       “It said to look for mass destruction, that would be our clue where we could find you.”
       “Who put up the bounty?”
       “A-hem,” a voice from behind me now. The surprises were adding up. “I think I can answer that.” It was the Rev. Brian Worley, my former warden at the Cedar Hills Mental Institution, my home away from home [see Drooling Sheos the Delusional #1].
       “Thought you said I was crazy, Rev. ,” I said to him. “Now you’re using creatures you said never existed to hunt me down? What’s changed?”
       I relieved Krogg of his weapon and tossed him into the Muskingum.
       “Everything,” the Rev. said. “Ever since you left, things have been happening at the institution. It’s like you left something behind that’s giving people the ability to make their sicknesses a reality. It was chaos for the longest time, but then there was an uprising and everyone escaped. The only way I can think to end it: I have to kill you.” The Rev. put up his dukes like a boxer from 1908. I was just waiting for him to say something like “Have at you!”        That would have been a kick.
       I punched him in the face and he went down like a clown on stilts. I punched him a few more times just to get the point across, when I heard another prayer coming through.

Dear Sheos, Can you save those poor people I’m seeing on the news. I think the town’s name is Marietta, OH. They’re under attack! Concerned

 
Connie…
       I wanted to tell Connie-cerned that this time I actually could. That I could help out for once, but something came down from the sky that let me know that things were about to get much, much worse. It was Rabies. He landed on the bridge like he was Superman, said not to worry, that he’d come to help, and flew off again. He got about two-hundred feet off the ground before he started to glow.
       “Shit,” I said and tossed the Rev. into the Muskingum before diving off myself to join him. By the time I had splashed into the water, Rabies detonated himself. Before that moment, only a group of structures in the town were completely compromised, but after, all of the small town was burning in my name, thanks to a god that liked to jump into the action headfirst.
       The Rev. and I washed up onto the shore closest to Virginia St. The Rev. was dead, but his spirit was already standing on the shore waiting for me to let go of the body. When Death showed up, I told him to pass up the Rev. and collect all the rest.
       “I can’t just skip him,” Death said.
       “Sure you can,” I said. “With the right motivation, you can do anything.”
       “Since you’re having a rough night, I won’t remind you of what happened in Hilton Head.”
       “And since I’m tired, I won’t shove my foot up your cloak.”
       Death sighed and walked away, picking up random souls as he got closer to the town.
       We were left alone. The Rev. wouldn’t shut up. Lucifer came and joined us.
       “All those people died because of me tonight,” I said. Sure, I hated humans, they were annoying little shits, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be the cause of their mass demise.
       “People die for gods all the time,” Lucifer said, trying to put me at ease. It wasn’t working. “I took care of the spider-baby.”
       “Thanks,” I said. “Any signs of Rabies?”
       Lucifer shook his head.
       “Probably for the best.”
       I was lost. Didn’t know where I would go next or what I would do. I stood up, yanking the Rev. up with me.
       “Thanks for coming and trying to help,” I told Lucifer.
       “Sorry I didn’t make it in time.”
       “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” I said.
       “Where are you going to go?”
       The Rev. perked up at this question. He, too, was curious where I was dragging him.
I thought about all the patients that were in that place that may have been effected by my presence, by my leaking influence over time, reality, and ability. I was like radiation. I thought about all the files in all the cabinets that would lead me to their whereabouts and how I might be able to strip them of any alterations that my just being around them for so long may have caused.
       Of course, I didn’t let any of that slip. Instead, I just said four little words: “Back to Cedar Hills.”