An Aztec Account

[WP] Turns out the Aztecs were like super correct and the gods demand blood. Conveniently, it was a set amount and due to large numbers, we had been satisfying the blood price and then some passively since the ??00's. Ages past humans achieved world peace, those gods show up.

*****

A continuous, light rain announced his arrival - Tlaloc, the god of rain, water, and fertility. He and his army, which included the children that were sacrificed in his name, raised an island on the shores of Pentwater, Michigan. Pentwater was a cozy little harbor town where there weren’t even streetlights. The main street was host to several mom & pop shops, now they were also host to Tlaloc.

“Sir,” Ocelotl said. “Please forgive my ignorance, but why are we in Michigan?”

“I have heard their lakes are great,” Tlaloc said. “Superior even.”

Ocelotl frowned as Tlaloc laughed a hearty laugh. The rain went from a light rain to a downpour whenever Tlaloc laughed or experienced any heightened emotions. Ocelotl was Tlaloc’s first lieutenant, he’d been one of the first sacrifices made in his name.

“I want to curry favor with the Americans,” Tlaloc said. “The wars may start up again and unfortunately, we cannot win this one alone.”

The locals stood on the beaches of Lake Michigan, they looked out at the god-made island that Tlaloc had raised. Curious tourists flew their drones over the island to get a closer look, but Tlaloc’s army shot all the drones down with torrential, tsunami sized waves.

“To the people of Pentwater,” Tlaloc announced. “I come bearing gifts. The rain I bring will ensure the health of your crops, the prosperous fertility of your women, and I will keep any storms at bay. All I ask is for the monthly sacrifice of one child.”

The people, who weren’t a collective people at all, had no answer for the old god. Tourists kept recording with their phones, but the residents were confused.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” one of the residents asked the other.

“Maybe it’s some kind of performance.” another replied.

Within the next twelve hours, the military had arrived at Pentwater, increasing the population of the town from 700 to 2700. The navy had been shipped out and had Tlaloc’s island surrounded. A mediator, Larry Boor, and his team of marines were sent to the island. The god of rain welcomed them where past the impossibly lush tropical trees that protected the island, sat a surprisingly modern looking city.

“Would you like something to eat or drink?” Ocelotl asked them.

“We’re fine, thank you.” Larry said. “We’d like to get to the bottom of what it is you’re exactly trying to do here.”

Ocelotl escorted them to one of the island’s meeting rooms, its wall length windows and central air conditioning felt refreshing to the marines who were sticky with sweat. The cold of the room had spread, Tlaloc wanted to keep the marines waiting.

“It’s a power move, Ocelotl.” Tlaloc said. “I’ll go in after a few minutes, turn the temperature down and ready the Xocolatl.”

Ocelotl turned the air conditioning higher, bringing down the temperature of the room to a chilly 63 degrees. He prepared the Xocolatl, an aztec hot chocolate, and readied them on marble trays.

Tlaloc opened the doors several minutes later, Ocelotl right behind him.

“Gentlemen,” Tlaloc said. “Welcome to my home.”

He extended a hand, which Ocelotl knew was a grand gesture for Tlaloc.

He must really be worried about the war then, Ocelotl thought to himself.

Larry took the hand, knowing better than to upset the guy who created an island out of thin air.

“And welcome to America.” Larry said.

They sat while Ocelotl handed out the cups of hot chocolate. Larry waited to drink his until after his marines took careful sips from their own cups. After many approving nods, Larry took the cup to his mouth and found that the Xocolatl was delicious - it was naturally sweet with the right ending notes of bitter and spice.

“This is great stuff,” Larry said.

“We have plenty here,” Tlaloc replied. “Let me know if you’d like seconds.”

“Before we get into that, I’d like to be upfront with you.” Larry said. “We were a bit surprised with your sudden arrival. And with the arrival of some others across the world.”

“Have you made contact with them already? Please tell me that little Xiuhtecuhtli is here, I’ll wipe the floor with him immediately.” Tlaloc said.

Ocelotl shook his head.

“No, we have reports that Xipe Totec arrived in China and Tezcatlipoca is in California.” Larry said. “Apologies for any mispronunciations by the way.”

“No, you’re doing great.” Tlaloc said. He was lying, but the true pronunciation of the God’s names would be impossible for their American tongues, he couldn’t blame them for any mistakes.

“May I ask what you ‘gods’ plan on doing here on earth?” Larry asked.

Tlaloc sat in his chair, his arms were folded and a thin mist surrounded him.

“We have noticed a distinct lack of sacrifices in recent years,” Tlaloc said. “Some gods have grown weak from this, others have grown angry, many a combination of the two.”

“Sacrifices, huh.” Larry said.

“With the growing weakness of some of the gods, the more fragile ones like that little baby Xiuhtecuhtli, they want another war. They want more power.” Tlaloc said.

“And how many of these sacrifices are needed to stop their war efforts,” Larry said. “You can give me your best estimate.”

“It varies for each god and you have to keep inflation in mind,” Tlaloc said.

“Of course,” Larry agreed.

“Roughly 6,941 per god per month,” Tlaloc said.

“Jesus Christ,” Larry said.

“He doesn’t count,” Tlaloc said.

He laughed a thunderous laugh and they all heard the downpour outside.

*****

THE END.