This is the final part of 21st Century Leda. Our narrator is Zeus, dallying with a girl in a pub. He has led the girl into his bedroom, his intentions obvious. She has whispered that she knows who he is.
“Zeus” she whispers. Just the sound of my name gives me a warmth and strength, and I smile.
“How did you find out?” I ask, but my hands are still concentrating on the buttons of her blouse.
“Old god” she hisses. I'm not pleased by that description of me and firmly protest that I’m not so old. She smiles widely, and shakes her head. “Your time’s gone” she murmurs, her body tight against mine. “They don’t worship you any more.” My fingers are working on the strap of her bra, but she won’t shut up. “They worship us, now, not you” she adds. I lean down to kiss her again, but she’s being coy, turning her eyes downwards to my shoulder. “Our kind are the Gods, now, Zeus - they’ve created us by their worship.” Her mouth caresses my neck, and I can barely hear her as she whispers “Time for you to go.”
And her fangs sink into my neck.