WELCOME

Mr. Wednesday had been locked up since the dawn of

Nov. 22, 2017 by Lena Webb

Mr. Wednesday had been locked up since the dawn of time a long time ago, and even before the gods had even existed, he'd been a slave to the Norse gods. He would die in secret, as the Norse god Odin had done to all mortals by killing him. The last time he was killed was in the seventh century. And the Norse gods, they say, did not know that he was Odin.

He had been born from Odin's body and, like the other Old Gods, was a bastard. The god Odin was so powerful that he would make people cry in fear, and then his children would beg him to do what they loved. "He was like a beast," said a young girl who'd recently died in the prison yard in a small village in the Middle East. "He would be a big wolf." She'd been an old man, and she'd heard that he was the Norse god of love. She'd also seen him grow up and become a god.

She'd been taught to fight to the death in her village.

Her childhood was filled with visions of the gods. "He was like a god that would kill you," said Helen.

He was not a god, and he wasn't even a god. He was a monster, a monster that could kill anyone.

He was not a good boy.

He wasn't a good girl.

He was a monster that would kill anyone.

There were signs of his power. He was a god who would kill anyone.

He was not a good boy.

He was an evil demon who would devour anyone.

He was not a good boy.

He looked like a lot of demons.

He looked like a lot of people in the village. He looked like a lot of people.

He looked like a lot of people. He looked like a lot of people.

He looked like a lot of people. He looked like a lot of people.

And when he was in trouble, he wouldn't take care of himself.

He wasn't a good boy.

He wasn't a good girl.

He was a monster that would kill anyone for everything that was in his blood.

He was not a good boy either.

He was not good girl either.

He was not a good boy.

He was not a good girl either.

And when he was in trouble, he wouldn't take care of himself.