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The old gods are dead.
Zeus sits hunched over his office desk, trying to make sense of the paperwork sprawled in front of him. His suit crumpled from the days' work, beard tangled and hair ruffled. The almost empty bottle hidden in his desk drawer calling to him.
The old gods are dead.
Hera sits at the head of her dining table, alone, her family bailing on dinner. She stares at the empty chairs wondering when family and marital values lost all meaning. Wondering where she went wrong.
The old gods are dead.
Poseidon looks out over the ocean, helpless, his home destroyed by pollution. The sea and it's inhabitants dying every second, there is nothing he can do, except watch while humanity continues to destroy.
The old gods are dead.
Hades looks around him. Nothing but the souls of the dead. All died at the hands of another. All devoid of emotion as they stumble over each other in a desperate attempt to escape their own. He wonders how long it will be until it is his time to join them.
The old gods are dead.
Athena gazes over the sea of students before her, wondering how such brilliant minds could go to waste, how they become poisoned by everything around them. She attempts to create yet another brilliant strategy to save them, only to realise that she too has been poisoned. She chokes on her own wisdom and creativity.
The old gods are dead.
Hephaestus watches as the smoke billows from countless factories. All run by machines. He would have been proud if they didn't destroy instead of create. He wonders when his creativity will become destructive.
The old gods are dead.
Aphrodite looks upon all the love and beauty of the world. Dismay overcoming her face as she realises that the meaning of love and beauty has become corrupt. She would have looked beautiful if it weren't for her purpose burning to the ground.
The old gods are dead.
Ares looks out onto the battlefields, horrified. He loved war. Thrived on war. Lived for war. But this, this was not war. This was brutality. Murder. Viciousness. Humanity slaughtering each other for nothing more than personal gain. He vows to put an end to it and put away his armour for good.
The old gods are dead.
Artemis marches down the streets with millions of others by her side, screaming and protesting for the rights every individual should be born with. She is fierce and unmovable, leading others in the hunt for equality, mud on her knees and ichor running down her face. She wonders why she ever had to fight for this in the first place.
The old gods are dead.
Apollo watches over the sick in faraway countries. He heals them the best he can, but it is not enough. He attempts to fly the sun, only to cause more damage. He tries to write poetry and create music, but the world is no longer listening. He becomes weaker as illness grows stronger.
The old gods are dead.
Demeter stands in the middle of a field, produce dying before the chance to harvest. The sun scorches everything it touches. The rain drowning every living thing. People don't care. The world is dying. Humanity is starving. There is nothing she can do but watch in silence.
The old gods are dead.
Hestia sits by her hearth, heat radiating through the room. Her skin is warm to the touch but all she feels is the cold and her heavy heart as she waits for the empty, soulless building to become home again. She cannot help but wonder why anybody would let somebody live like this. Knowingly let them waste away with nothing but themselves.
The old gods are dead.
Hermes sits in his office waiting for a chance to be who he once was. There's nothing to deliver and nothing to receive. He lost his spark of mischief when jokes became nothing but offensive and bothersome. He misses being able to lift the mood using a simple one-liner.
The old gods are dead.
Dionysus sits in an abandoned, rundown alley, clothes ragged and dull, dirt on his face, a drink in hand. Alcohol no longer used to let loose and have fun but to forget, numb and abuse. He stares at the sky wondering where he went wrong. Was his creation the cause of humanity's corruption? Or did it simply aid them in the inevitable?
The olds gods are dead.
The shells of who they used to be, desperately attempting to survive among humans, clinging on to the hope that they will return to their former glory. But alas,
The Old Gods Are Dead.
And what is dead, stays dead.