Greek Complex Short Story

The Greek Complex There are legends, legends of the ancient gods of Greece striking upon unsuspecting victims, killing them in their own way. I know that those tales are true. I look back by the cold, damp, crime ridden street. Where is this, oh I think I know, North Muscatine, forty seventh street. I try thinking of what to do when he snuck up, not snuck up. That is too human, he appeared in front of me. The huge, muscular man. I can’t distinguish his facial features. The only light casting upon his face is the electricity in his eyes. At that moment he pointed at me. The sky lit with blinding light, and I felt the heat of a billion suns hit my left arm. I was being struck by lightning, over and over again. My eyesight is fading, my limbs literally melting away from the heat, I knew I this was the end. My last words I heard were a jumbled up mess of

I’ll go to talk to one of the witnesses over by the saloon.” I then started walking to the witness. Two blocks later I was at McHenry’s Saloon. Standing in front of the brick wall was this man. If I had to describe the witness he would be about six feet in height, slim but with well-toned muscles. I remember seeing this guy at the gym every Thursday. I walk up to him, his dark skin standing out in the bright sully day. All I asked him was, “Can you tell me all you’ve seen?” He opened up and told me all he knew. “All I saw was a man running where the crime scene was. I was walking over to him to see what was going on because I also saw a man, taller than me, maybe six to six and a half feet. When I got to the alley he was in I saw it happen. As soon as the tall man did nothing but point a finger at the victim, an arc of lightning hit the victim, literally melting him and the ground around him. I could not see for the next four hours, and I was deafened to the point that all I heard was one word.