It was a mansion set back from the road by a long and winding driveway.
By the time we made it up the drive way it was engulfed in flames. The police arrived and were rounding up the ones who had escaped the conflagration. They had symbols craved into their foreheads and cheeks, tattoo wrapping around their lips and winding down their necks. When the women saw us she spit and cursed. The language she used made my head start to pound and my nose bleed. One of the cops hit her across the face with rifle butt. She fell tot he ground and started crying.
“He would have made the whole earth pure!”
The fist of the goliath shot up through the mansion. the smell of burnt flesh surrounded us. The would be god of the world struggled to lift itself out from its underground lair and screamed and burned.the pasty white worm flesh cracked and blackened int he flames. The markings and symbols on the skin of the gold were the ones his children had made on their faces.
The burnt god crumbled into a heap and its soul wafted away in the wind and smoke.