Author's Note: Okay, this is bad mojo for anyone with any kind of deep commitment to any religion involving God. It is meant for entertainment and doesn't even resemble my own view on the subject. What can I say, the Plot Bunny Strikes Back.

PROPHET

A Ghost Story™

He was known by many names. Jahve, Elohim, Allah, Xaitan, Schartanil, G'dar or just simply God. More or less omnipotent, he still did not find his work as the Deity of countless billion beings on thousands and thousands of worlds less important. He was now sitting by his desk, or the divine equivalent of a desk, in his office in Heaven. He was currently speaking in the phone, or the divine equivalent of a phone, with another, lesser deity known as the Great Spirit of Chaago.

"No," he said. "No, I do not. Look, what part of "hostile take-over" do you not understand? No, I feel no sympathy whatsoever. What? Well, get yourself your own missionaries then, there are still vast parts of Chulraa that haven't heard your word yet. Look, I really have no time to argue about this, we are a big religion and I have allot to do. Good day, Mr of Chaago."

He hung up and contacted his secretary with a thought.

"Angela," he said. "Is there any more on our agenda?"

"Not today, sir," Angela responded.

"Oh," he said. "Well then, let me know if anything turns up."

He leaned back and decided to use the Hotwire. It was a direct line to Hell, established to prevent clashes between his organisation and Satan's since his little rebellion. God picked it up.

"Hello, Lucy?"

"Hi, old man. And please don't call me that, will you?" came the answer. God sighed. Satan was smart, but not the most polite person in the Universe.

"Sure," he said. "So how are things on your front?"

"Earth?" God frowned. He knew about that world, one of his old favourites, even though, he confessed to himself, he hadn't been around much except for the usual listening of prayers and granting of lesser miracles. He knew the world was in dispute and could become a key factor if the war between Heaven and Hell ever broke out, but since both sides wanted the planet intact they had treated the issue carefully. "What about it?"

"You haven't noticed? Oh, you should see it!" Satan said. "If you ask me, you give the humans way to much free hands. I can't even work with those people anymore! Every time I try I get a headache! If I where you, I'd get the old Locusts and the Fire From the Sky and show those freaks who is the boss around here! I'm telling you, those folks deserve some serious smithing!"

God smiled slightly. Satan was good at overreacting and terribly old-fashion in his way of thinking, but he wasn't a true god, after all. Still, his words where disturbing. "Yes, I'll see to it immediately."

And then he hung up. God did so as well and pondered for a moment.

"Angela," he finally said. "Bring in the Earth file, will you?"

"Immediately, sir," came the answer. The blond, lithe angel soon appeared with the file. God eyed it through. Then once again.

"Oh dear," he said and covered his eyes with his hand. "Blood of the Faithful! This is horrible! This is not how a planet is to be run! They are on the verge of annihilating themselves, and what is worse, they have managed to exterminate several other species! Look, there are almost no tigers left!"

Angela looked into the file. "Yes, very tragic, sir," she said. She usually agreed with him. It was her job, after all.

"Indeed, they were one of my favourites!" God said, furious. "Who did I leave responsible for Earth last time?"

"I believe it was Georgius, Creed, Alexis and Fang," Angela answered. "Shall I summon them?"

"Yes, do so," God said and seated himself in his most frightening I'm-The-Boss-manner. Soon four angels where standing in front of him.

"Um, you wanted to see us, Milord?" Georgius said.

"Yes," God said and grinned. "I was just on the hotwire with Satan, and he informed me that things were not quite as they should on Earth." He noticed a sudden tension among them. "I then decided to read though the file, and do you know what I found?"

"No, Sire," they all said, quietly.

"What I found was utter chaos!" he threw the file in front of them, and it landed with a soft clir. "The people are running wild! The herd is scattered! They have the most insane ideas and are constantly bickering among each other. Only a few still believe in me, and many of them have the most demented way of showing it I have ever heard of! They are killing the planet, themselves and everything else on it! Some of them even tries to justify their evil acts by blaming me! Me! They are inventing their own theories about good and evil! They even give Lucifer a headache, for crying out loud!"

"Yes, sir," Creed said. "But you see…"

"Yes, I see perfectly well what has happened," God cut him off. "What I want to know is how it happened! Last time I checked everything was fine! I just can't understand how this could be!"

He stopped for a moment, and slowly turned towards the four angels. "Unless… Of course! You are only a bunch of cowardly yes-men, aren't you?"

With slacking wings, all four of them hung their heads slightly, mumbling. God heard several "Yes, Sire," from them.

"Well, you are not going to mess things up any more, I guarantee you!" God raised his hand.

"But Sire," Fang tried. "You must understand…"

Too late, God had already pushed a button on his desk and all four of them had disappeared down a trapdoor. God felt slightly satisfied. Omnipotence had its good sides. He now leaned back and pondered on what to do.

"A prophet," he said, finally. "Yes, that will do the trick."

He reached out with his divine mind, seeking Earth. Once he found the planet, he quickly scanned the populace to find a suitable person. He stayed away from people belonging to other religions, but since he had the most followers he really had no problem with this. Finally, he stopped and watched one of them that seemed to be a good match. A teenage girl, red hair, green eyes, strong in mind and body, good looking. He immediately knew her name. Rachael Monroe. Yes she would do fine.

The only problem was that she was dying. Suicide by and overdose of sleeping pills. At first, he wondered if he shouldn't find someone else, but then realised that he might be able to turn the situation to his advantage. The usual way of communication, with burning bushes and such, had spawned many misunderstandings before, and this was his chance of speaking to her more directly.

He carefully reached out and fetched her soul in, just as it was about to slide away and leave her body cold and dead forever. She was instantly animated in his office, wearing the same T-shirt and jeans as her mortal self, who was turning cold on the bed back on Earth. She looked around, surprised.

"Whoa," she said. "What is this place?"

"Heaven," God said simply.

"So, I'm dead?" she asked nervously. "I mean, did it work?"

"Not entirely, Rachael," he answered. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm God."

"The God?" Rachael said doubtfully. "Boy, you don't look like I had expected."

God smiled. He had already known what most Earthlings expected of him, but he had never really cared for the "Old Man with a Beard"-look. His appearance was now the one of a young, handsome Earthling with a somewhat dark complexion, grey eyes, blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He was dressed in a white tuxedo. He liked to surprise them.

"This is just a avatar in which I speak to you in a form that you are familiar with," he explained. "Had you seen me for what I really am, we would not be able to communicate."

"So, how do you really look?" she asked.

"Big," he answered. "Very big. Enormous, in fact. And glowing. The very sight of me would cause your mind to cave in."

"Okay," she said. "Does everyone who die get to speak with you in person?"

"No, not at all," he said. "You are, technically, not dead yet, and the reason I speak to you know is because I have an offer."

"An offer?"

"Yes. As you might have noticed, your species has been behaving a bit crazy lately."

"Oh, tell me about it! That was the reason I wanted out of the place," she muttered. "Well, one of the reasons, anyway."

"Yes. Now, Rachael, what I want from you is to become my new prophet. I am planning to do a little update on Earth and I need someone who can speak to the humans for me. Someone like you."

"A prophet?" Rachael said. "Me? But I'm not even religious! I have never done anything like that in my whole life. No one ever listens to me! Why do you want me to be your prophet?"

"Why, why, why? You are all the same!" God snorted. "Why me? Why do I have to build the boat? I don't like the sea! Why must I lead them out of Egypt? Why, I just want to be a carpenter? By the Light, girl, even Shakespeare complained!"

"Shakespeare was a prophet?"

"You mean you didn't notice?"

Rachael shook her head. "Anyway, what if I don't become your prophet, then?"

God shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you will die from that overdose, and suicide is technically the same thing as a murder so I will have to turn you over to Satan, then."

"Oh," Rachael said. "Damn." She looked at him. "But if I do become your prophet, what do I have to do?"

"Talk to the people. Teach them what I want them to know. Lead them! They need a shepherd, and none of the other losers on Earth has done a very good job, have they?"

"Do I have to go to church and read the Bible and stuff?"
"Absolutely not!" God said. "We are getting rid of all that. New prophet, new Bible, new commandments. I don't know what I was thinking when I had that rubbish written down anyway."

"Many people like that 'rubbish'," Rachael pointed out.

"That doesn't make it right. Even gods have to update once in a while," God looked into her green eyes and continued. "I will tell you why I want you to be my prophet, Rachael. Because you have absolutely everything required. Charisma, intelligence, a natural talent for leadership, a strong mind and a gentle soul. I know what you are thinking. You fear that no one will listen. But they will, because you will speak my words and they will have to listen."

Rachael still looked doubtful. "But what about my body?" she said. "I though it was dying?"

"Oh, that's easy!" God said and smiled. "I'll just stuff you back into your body, play around with the laws of nature, maybe even add a miracle and then you will survive. Someone will walk in on you and call the ambulance or something."

"You can do that?"

"I am God, am I not? So, what do you say?"

He offered her his hand. She looked at it for a short moment, and then took it, smiling.

"It's a pleasure to do business with you," she said.