divinities would damn themselves for me (oneshot)

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Tommy has a shit dad. We should get that fact out of the way quick. He never payed Tommy the time of day. And when he did, it was through bottles and rough hits. But it was fine for Tommy. His mindset was: "at least I have a dad in the first place."

Tommy goes to a small high school in a small town. He showed up to classes with new bruises every so often, but no one talked about it. No one cared, really. The town ran on the idea of every man for himself.

So yeah. Tommy was alone. But at least he had a dad.

Until he didn't.

You see, Tommy, who was sure he knew everything there was to know about his hometown, wasn't aware of it's origins. Religious origins— to be clear. The natives when building the land worshipped gods that went by Greek Mythological names, but with different stories and abilities. Hercules can be a strong hero to the Greeks, but to this town, he was a fisherman with a rod who can reel in the biggest salmon known to mortals.

So maybe, you can see how Atheist Tommy Innit, payed no attention to the eyes prying into his back, watching him every second of the day. He shrugged off the feeling of something touching his hair while sleeping. He ignored the black feathers that seemed to follow the paths he took everywhere.

That was his first mistake.

It was a Tuesday afternoon. He should have saw it coming to be fair, nothing good ever happens on a Tuesday. He walked home from his day of classes, thinking about his up and coming 16th birthday. He hadn't tripped over any rocks on the way to his father's cottage, and he was in a generally good mood. He swung open the front door, but still hiding the sound. He didn't want to deal with more purple and green circles on a good day. 

He stepped into the kitchen. He wished he didn't. The walls were painted red and the ceiling was dripping. There was broken glass and bottles everywhere. And in the middle of the floor lay his now deceased father, head busted open. Tommy gaged, and picked up a black-stained-red feather from the puddle of liquid on the floor. He sighed and stepped over the body, opening the fridge, looking for the milk. 

He was thirsty. He was getting a drink. He was in a good mood. And he will not address the rotting corpse behind him.  

He would have to clean later, he could tell that much.

"I thought you would be more distressed."

Tommy whipped his head around to see a blond man with green ropes and HUGE fucking obsidian wings. Crow wings. Tommy dropped the cup of milk and it shattered across the tile.

He backed up to the wall. "Who-.. who are you-?" His hands shook from anxiety and he could grip onto anything. This was a dream. It had to be. He'd wake up and it would just be a bad dream.

The man stalked closer to him. He had piercing blue eyes. He held his hand out and cupped Tommy's cheek. His skin was ice cold, and Tommy wanted badly to yank away from the grip.

"Me and my sons have been watching you for a while now, sunshine." He smiled and tilted his head. "Do you believe in the gods, Tommy?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Tommy gulped and shook his head violently, too scared to speak. Just don't speak when this situation happens. It's rule of thumb. How to survive 101. He tried to swallow his fear and subdue his shaking.

"Well" The man softened, "we can't have that, now can we?" 

The man raised his left pointer finger and pressed it to the child's head. And everything went back expect for the faint flashing of names and words in his head.