Perhaps this is the first town they've visited, maybe the last. Either way, the gods walk among us once more. All they ask is for a glance, and then they grant you bliss, ecstasy, eternity, and devotion, followed by oblivion.

I live out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing. Well, that might be an exaggeration. There are a few houses, the bar where I worked, a gas station, and in the middle of town, where Main Street crosses Pine, there's even a stoplight. I'm not sure what the population was, but it's down to one now. Well, one human, anyway.

The gods are still here. Every night, they come to visit me. They offer an end to pain and suffering. They promise I'll never feel alone again. They swear to love and devote everything to me. All I have to do is look, and I want to. I want to look so bad. Maybe it won't be so bad, maybe it will be worth it... But first, I figured I'd get the message out. This may be a warning...or an offer. I suppose that's up to you to decide.

It all started a few weeks ago. Or maybe it was months? I don't know. One day seems to bleed into the next now. I'm not even certain time is passing at all anymore. Whenever it was, John was the first to discover the old gods.

Honestly, at first, I thought he was just screwing around. We all did. John was always the type to take a practical joke too far. So when he came over for poker night, saying things like, "Guys, guys, the gods have returned! It's amazing! You have to come check it out!" no one took him seriously. Honestly, why should we? It didn't even sound like one of his more clever jokes. So when he went around asking a bunch of us to come to check it out, no one listened. However, I did notice the tips of the fingers on his left hand were stained oddly. They were white like he'd dipped them in something.

I figured that would be the last I'd hear about it, but only a day or so later, another of our friends, Rob, started saying the same thing. "The gods have returned! John was right! This is something you all have to see!"

I stopped him and asked what in the hell he was talking about, but he just gripped my shoulder and smiled like some born-again nut job. "Dude, I'm serious! John was right! The gods have returned, but he didn't mention how beautiful they are! It's something you have to see to believe!"

I rolled my eyes. "Common man. I don't know what you're going on about, but I don't have time for this right now. Go bother someone else with this stuff. I got work in the morning."

Rob just shrugged. "Your loss. But don't worry, they aren't going anywhere. The gods are nothing if not patient. They just need a little more strength, then they'll come to visit, and you'll see!"

As I walked away, I just shook my head, wondering if they'd joined some new cult or something. I also remember seeing that the tips of Rob's finders were stained white, just like John's had been.

It didn't take long. Soon, more and more people were talking about the gods' return, and every one of them was trying their hardest to get their friends and family to come see. Understandably, a bunch of us were kind of put out about it, to put it mildly.

John seemed to be the leader of this new cult. He'd hold gatherings, trying to recruit people to "Come see the returned gods!" And whenever someone went, they came back talking about the gods like all the rest. I didn't really speak to him or Rob anymore. I didn't really know what was happening, and I didn't want to know. The whole thing felt wrong.

That more or less was the lead-up to the night that changed everything. I was working at the bar, late, of course. Since this whole thing started, there were a lot fewer people coming in, but those that did drank all the more, so I wasn't really hurting in the cash department. However, all the conversations seemed pretty much the same. People talking about how they'd lost friends or family to this new cult. Even the town priest, Father Timbel, was sitting in the corner. He was drunk, ranting, and raving to anyone who'd listen. "They're all going to Hell if they don't repent! Every last one! They and their false idols will burn forever!" He was working up to something, and I wasn't sure I wanted to be there when he figured out what it was.

I was just debating whether I should try to tell Dave, the bouncer, to kick the priest out when the door opened, and in walked John. For the record, he wasn't quite what you expected in a cult leader. He wore blue jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. But he did have that same self-contented smile he always wore these days that made you want to punch him in the face, and it looked like a few of our patrons were getting up to do just that.

I gave Dave a look, and the big man nodded and stood up to take care of things, but John held up his hands in surrender. "Relax, I'm not here to start trouble with anyone! I just thought that those of you who were unable or unwilling to come see the gods would like to know they've come to us instead. They're outside right now. All you have to do is look for yourself, and you'll see what all the commotion is about!"

The first to look was Dave, probably because he was already headed in that direction. Pretty soon, the big man was pressed up against the glass like a kid looking into a shop window on Christmas Eve. The drunks, ready to pick a fight, were next and soon found themselves pressed up against the window as well. Soon, all the skeptics were craning their heads to get a look, and shortly after that, they were all but climbing over each other to get a better look out the window. Even Father Timbel was there, in the middle of everything. He was still shouting, but his tone had changed, and he sounded like he was giving a Sunday sermon. "Praise be the gods! They have graced us with their presence! Blessed are us who have been granted this gift! Praise be the gods!"

Luckily for me, from where I was standing, I didn't have a great view of the window, so I couldn't see whatever it was everyone was going on about. After everyone started going nuts, I got this uncomfortable feeling and backed away. I don't remember much of what happened after that. I started drinking our stock, and things got fuzzy, but I remember staying the hell away from the window. I heard someone rush outside. I think it was Father Timbel, but I'm not sure. The only other thing I clearly remember that night was what I saw when John raised his hands. His entire left hand and arm were white like marble, except for his fingertips, which were starting to crack and peel like they were rotting away.

When I finally woke up the next day, I wanted to die. Not just because sleeping on the bar floor combined with my hangover to make me wish the apocalypse had happened, but also because everyone in town was walking around with expressions of pure bliss, talking about how excited they were about the return of the gods, and how blessed we all were. I noticed a large ash pile in front of the bar. Some idiot had probably started a fire in the street or something, but I didn't care enough to do anything about it and just locked up shop so I could head home. However, it seemed like everyone I passed had white fingertips on their left hand.

I stopped by the gas station to pick up some breakfast, but despite being wide open, no one was manning the counter. It was like someone walked out in the middle of the night and left everything like it was. Not wanting to be a thief but not knowing what to do, I grabbed some food, threw some money on the counter, and went home, climbing up to the third story of the apartment I lived in.

I'm not sure how long after that I got a phone call. At a Glance, I could see it was Mike, one of my other friends who knew John. I debated letting it ring but decided I had to give him a chance. If he said anything about worshiping the gods, though, I was gonna hang up.

When I finally answered, Mike seemed kinda on edge, not that I blamed him. "Oh, thank god you answered. Just tell me you're not one of those cultists now, are you?"

I almost shook my head as I answered, but my still-pounding headache changed my mind. "No, I'm not some drooling maniac, though it seems like there's a few more of those now..."

Mike seemed relieved. "Yeah, there's a lot more of those! Listen, it looks like the town's been overrun, but Sam and I have a plan!"

I didn't like the sound of that. Mike and Sam were good enough guys, but they were also not what I would call the best planners. They were more of a dive-in and figure it out as you go kinda duo. But I wanted to hear what he had to say, so I let him continue. "Listen, man, just come over to our house before nightfall. I think it's time we did something about these 'gods.' Just bring some beer!" I agreed, not like I had much to lose at this point, and hung up.

Around six in the evening, I knocked on the door, beer in hand, and Mike answered. The dude was geared up in camo like some sort of overweight commando who knew more about World of Warcraft than urban camouflage. Not that I was any expert, but something told me different shades of green wouldn't help him hide inside his beige house.

I looked around, expecting to see Sam in a similar getup, but he was nowhere to be seen. I looked back at Mike. "So what's the plan? We cover ourselves in mud to hide from their heat vision."

Mike looked surprised. "No. Why? Do they have heat vision?"

I shook my head. "No, I was just...it doesn't matter. So what's the plan?"

Mike motioned me inside, then walked over to an open window, where he had an old rifle against the wall. "Listen, Sam and I were talking, and we think whatever it is they do to change people is kinda like Medusa. You know, from Greek history? You look them in the eye, and you get turned. Well, the way we see it, They can't look at both of us at the same time if we're on opposite sides of the street, so Sam is just across the way. When one of them comes down the street, We'll both take a shot, and one of us will get them for sure!"

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I shook my head. "You mean Greek mythology... Wait, isn't crossing your file lanes, or whatever they're called, toward each other a bad thing? One of you is gonna get shot!"

Mike shook his head. "We're not that stupid! We're not gonna wait until they're right between us. We'll take our shot when they're still down the street a bit."

Firing a couple of rifles in a residential area sounded stupid, but honestly, I didn't care all that much anymore. "So why am I here?"

Mike looked at the beer in my hands. "Because of that! If we're gonna be staking out the neighborhood, I figured we'd need something to drink and someone to talk to!"

That figured. Mike picked up a two-way radio he had next to the window. "Hey, Sam, beer's here. Come get some!"

Long story short, the first part of the night went about how you'd expect. Lots of drinking and bullshitting in a dark room so the light wouldn't alert anyone or spoil Mike's aim. I had my back to the wall with the window to resist the temptation to look and was feeling a nice buzz, nothing too serious, when Sam's voice came out over the radio. "Hey, Mike, I see some shadows moving our way down the street. Duck down, and we'll pop up on the count of five and fire, alright?"

Mike ducked down. "Uh, ten four!"

I shook my head. What, were we in Smoky and the Bandit now? Still, I couldn't help but feel just a tiny bit of hope. Maybe this could work.

Sam started the count. "One."

I took another sip of my beer, doing my best not to look up and out the window.

"Two."

Mike had a grip on his gun and a determined look in his eye.

"Three."

I put down my beer. It felt like my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest.

"Four"

This was it...

"Five!"

Mike stood up and started lifting his gun...then stopped. I was hoping to hear a rifle shot ring out from the other side, but all I heard was Mike say, "Oh...huh," and watched as he put down his gun.

Looking up at him, I was afraid he was already gone, but I had to ask anyway. "What's going on? What do you see?"

Mike just looked down at me. "Oh, yeah, nothing much... Listen, I'm gonna check something out quickly. I'll be right back."

I shook my head. "No, man, are you crazy? Stay here! You don't want to go out there!"

Mike just grinned that same stupid grin John always had these days. "Naw, man, it'll be fine. I'm just gonna... I'll be right back." Then he walked out the door.

I sat with my back to the window, listening for everything I was worth.

But try as I might, I couldn't make out anything that didn't sound like any other night in the middle of nowhere. My heart pounded as one minute bled into two, then three. My mind was screaming at me to stand up and look out the window, to try and see what was going on, but I just sat there and refused to move. I'm not sure how long I sat there alone in the dark. If I had to guess, I'd say it was more than a half hour, less than an hour. Eventually, the fear gave way to boredom, and I finally reached out for my beer.

As my fingers touched the can, a voice spoke to me from the open window over my head. It sounded like it was just inches away from the widow. I felt like I could reach out and touch it. "Hello." I think my heart actually missed a beat or two as my fear level went from two to ten in a split second. A part of my mind imagined I could feel their breath as they spoke again. It sounded warm and welcoming, almost loving. A piece of my mind pictured a beautiful woman in a gorgeous red dress, but the other part imagined a desiccated mummy with a fox skull where its head should be. "No need to worry yourself. We don't bite. Why don't you turn around and take a look? We promise you'll feel better if you do..."

I didn't know what to say or even what to think. So, instead, I held my breath and willed my heart to stop beating so loud. After a moment, the voice returned. "Still not willing to look? That's okay. We're patient. Take your time and look when you're ready. Then you'll realize how silly these fears of yours really are."

I sat there the rest of the night, frozen in fear. I must have passed out at some point because I was awoken by light streaming through the window. With a start, I hopped to my feet and ran to the door. Mike kept his keys on a shelf next to the door, and I grabbed those before pulling the door open. As I stepped out onto the walkway, I noticed a pile of white ash not far from the door. I had a sneaking suspicion that that was what was left of Mike. Across the road, in front of the other door, was another pile. In fact, looking down the street, there were several.

Ignoring the implications, I ran to Mike's car, got in, and turned the ignition. Nothing. Not even the sound of the engine trying to turn over. A few more attempts ended the same. I got out and walked around the front of the car, but it seemed fine. I popped the hood, and while I'm no mechanic, everything seemed to be in place.

Giving up on this car, I headed across the street, stepped over the ash pile, and tried Sam's door. It was unlocked. I found his keys on the hook he had next to his front door, but his car yielded the same result.

Not sure of what to do, I headed home. Some people were walking down the street, all wearing dreamy smiles like they'd had the night of their lives, but there were a lot less than the day before. I ignored them and fumbled for my keys at my front door, only to realize the door was unlocked.

I walked in cautiously, unsure what to expect, and found John waiting for me in the living room. He nodded to me. "Hey, man. What's up?"

I glared at him momentarily, unsure what to say, so he continued. "Listen, man, I know this all seems weird and all, but trust me, everything is going to be okay!"

I looked at his left hand, or rather where it should have been. There was nothing there. "That doesn't look okay."

John held up his handless arm. "Oh, this? This is nothing. Practically a paper cut in comparison to what I've been given. Listen, I just want you to know no one will force your hand. The gods have told me you're to be left alone. You can join them when you're good and ready. No one will trouble you until then. Everything is going to be okay."

I just looked at him incomprehensibly for a moment before feeling a surge of rage. "Everything is going to be okay? Everything is going to be okay? Do you know what's happening out there every night? People are dying! Mike is gone! Sam is gone! They were your friends, and they're gone!"

John nodded with that same satisfied smile on his face. "I know, and I envy them. How wonderful it must be to be one with the gods!"

I couldn't help it. Whatever reason I possessed was gone in a flash. I stepped forward and punched John in the head as hard as I could. He didn't even try to resist. When he fell, his left arm slammed into the ground and crumbled. Out of his sleeve poured a small pile of ash. That brought my rage to an end, leaving me with something between pity and disgust as John held up his other hand in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll leave. You won't have to worry about me bothering you anymore. Tonight, the gods will accept me and let me know the joy of their embrace. But you'll still be here, all alone. I wonder how long you'll make them wait? I wonder how long you'll punish yourself." I debated kicking him in the head as he got up but decided I'd rather not give myself more of a mess to clean up.

After he left, I realized how exhausted I was. I couldn't bring myself to care anymore, and instead went to bed and slept. I don't know how long I slept, but the room was dark when I awoke. A moment later, there was a tapping at my window. I was groggy enough that I almost turned and looked but stopped myself. After a moment, the tapping repeated itself, but rather than look, I just threw the covers over my head and went back to sleep.

The next day, when I went out into the street, it was like the whole place was abandoned, though there were piles of ash all over the place. For a moment, I wondered which one was John, but then shrugged and decided to go get some food.

Over the course of the day, I wandered around. Every house and business in the town was unlocked and open, so there was no shortage of food or drink for me, but none of the cars worked, and I was way too far away from the next town to reach it on foot.

I wandered around during the day for the next week or two. Doing whatever I could to pass the time. Then at night I went back home and slept in my bed. Every night, I'd be awoken by someone tapping at my window, and every night I ignored it. After a while, I tried sleeping in different people's houses. After all, why not? It was not like anyone was there to object. But every night, the tapping sound found me.

Finally, out of boredom one night, or maybe out of a need to socialize with someone...or something, I returned home. That night, I left my window open and sat with my back to the night, my head just above the windowsill. Not long after dark, the voice from before returned. "Hello again." Surprisingly, I didn't jump out of my skin.

I'd thought through a thousand questions I was going to ask, but none of them came to mind at that moment. All I could think to ask was, "What are you?"

I'd expected anger or annoyance, maybe even for whatever it was to sound insulted, but instead, it spoke to me calmly and kindly, like a teacher talking with a favored student. "That is a complicated question, but I suppose a simpler one would be, "What are we...to you?'"

I shook my head. "Okay, then what are you, to me?"

I could hear a smile in the voice like it was just happy to speak to me. "We are your friend. We want to make you happy, to give you everything you've ever wanted. We are the ones who care about you more than anyone ever did or could. We want to serve you, to worship you. All we ask is that you look at us."

I laughed darkly. "Yeah, and have me turn to ash just like the rest of the town? Admit it, you want to feed off me! Just like you did everyone else!"

Surprisingly, the voice sounded almost...sad. "We must feed, yes. That is our nature, just as it is yours. But we do not take without offering something in return. Before your final moment, you will be frozen in an eternity of bliss. We will live countless lifetimes together. Throughout them, you will know no pain or sorrow. You will never be alone. We will be there with you, always and forever, as your friend, your guide, and, if you wish, your lover..." At that last word, I sensed a hand reach through the window and felt a single finger caress my neck. A part of me wanted to look. It screamed at me to look. But I resisted.

Instead, I started to laugh. I laughed for a while until my throat was sore, and I was desperately trying to catch my breath. Once it stopped, the room was filled with nothing but silence. Finally, I spoke again. "And what if I refuse. What if, instead, I walk downstairs and slit my throat. What will you do then?"

The voice sounded disappointed, almost sad. "We will go hungry, and you will die alone and in pain."

I shook my head. "I think I've had enough of this tonight. Just leave, okay?"

This time, the voice sounded pleasant again, friendly even. "As you wish, but we will return to speak again. Good night, our beloved."

Then I was alone. After a while, I gave into despair and looked up and out the window, but they'd been true to their word and left.

I don't know why they gave me this option and no one else. Maybe they're just savoring their dessert after a feast, or maybe I'm more like an after-dinner mint. But whatever it was, they honored their word and returned the next night, and the next, and so on. We've talked many times. I even look forward to speaking with them now. Sometimes, we laugh and joke like old friends. Other times, they patiently listen to me cry and rage, but they never complain. I'm pretty sure I've got something like Stockholm Syndrome at this point.

Anyway, I decided to sit down and write this out. I don't know. Maybe someone will read this and do something with it. Or maybe not. Maybe you're all already dead, and I'm the last person on earth. I don't know, but I feel I'm losing my will to fight. Maybe I'll look tonight and see what all the fuss is about...

I hear them tapping at my window, so I'll just post this and go. Don't worry about me. Whatever happens, I'm sure I won't be alone...ever again.