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Nevada. F-ing Hell. Nevada sucks. Van dropped his duffle bag to the ground and mopped sweat running off his head. If there was a Hell on Earth, you wouldn't have to look much further than Nevada. This was probably all some sort of sick joke. A joke that had run on far too long to be funny, if it ever was. Van sure wasn't laughing. Not even at the irony of a Roman God sending him to a hotel called Excalibur. Van was vague with his British history but he knew the English defeated the Romans and sent them packing home. Kind Arthur defended his lands against invaders with his sword Excalibur. Viola, two plus two equals irony. And he didn't give two cares.
This entire ridiculous thing started two weeks ago when some random dude appeared to Van. "Van, I'm your father." The guy had said quoting Darth Vader. Well, maybe not like that, but it would have been an improvement. The truth was Van had been grabbed and manhandled by this guy off the street and into an alley.
The guy had grabbed Van by his upper arm and swung him into an alley with surprising strength. Van had been surprised and he put up little resistance. Not that it would have done much good, he wasn't good at fighting. Once in the alley the surprise faded and anger set in quickly. Anger and a little bit of fear had allowed Van to decked the guy, causing him to fall onto the pavement.
Van turned his back to the guy in an attempt to leave the alley. However his exit was postponed when he was grabbed again. He turned; his mouth opened and swear words coming out of his mouth. Then he saw the guy again. He was different. He was something more than human.
Literally. One moment he was some random guy and the next... Van had been looking at a God. He knew it, deep down in his bones. Van wished the guy, no God, would stop holding him in place. He wanted nothing more than to run away. Then the God had said, "Don't hit me again brat." Just like that. Van felt his mouth drop open.
"Don't?" Van sputtered. "You dragged me into an alley and you don't want me to hit you?"
The God cut him off by increasing his hold on his arm painfully. Van had to shut his mouth or make an unmanly sound. "I'm busy right now so I'm going to make this quick. You're my offspring." Notice the lack of affection or acknowledgement. "That means you have to do what I say."
Van had raised his eyebrows at this point. He didn’t like where this was going. Then he cut in. "Like Hell I have to."
The God pinned him to the wall despite Van's protests. The God stared at Van then said simply. "I'm short on time, so I am going to make this simple for you to understand. If you are not in Nevada checked into a hotel named Excalibur in two weeks, I will kill you." The God let go of Van.
Van stumbled as the pressure against his arms vanished and fell down. He looked up at the God as he was walking away. "Do I even get to know your name?" He shouted after him. The God turned. "Mercury." Then vanished. Van had knelt there for a few minutes as the realization set in. First he was a Demi-God. A son of Mercury. Second, his newly discovered father was going to kill him. Eventually he had pulled himself off the ground and headed out. It had taken him a while to find the right hotel in Nevada and find out how to get there.
But now he was here. Waiting for another meeting with his homicidal 'father'. Van rubbed his arm where the God had grabbed him. It was still bruised faintly. Better than after the encounter when it had been an ugly black. He sighed picked up the duffle bag. No sense in putting it off any longer.




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