Genghis Khan of the Mountain Goats

I recently thought of a new idea for a story, and I wrote the first two chapters last night. Tell me how it is and whether I should continue pursuing it:

Day 324

They keep saying it’s going to be better. I know they’re lying. This is not medicine. This doesn’t taste like medicine; they’re lying to me. I don’t want to be here. I don’t belong here. I’m healthy; I need to get out of here.

This isn’t a hospital, this is a prison, to keep all of us crazies from hurting other people. But that’s not going to happen. My roommate Charlie is fine. All he ever does is hum anyway. I don’t think humming is going to hurt anyone. So why do they keep us in here?

I know I’m not sick and that’s all I hold on to. But more importantly, I hold onto the fact that I have a mission to complete. I was sent to purge this world of a great evil, I know it! I’ve felt it ever since I’ve been put in this hospital. These guys, these men in white shirts are His servants, I know it. I scream to them that they will be washed away in the holy light when the savior returns, for colluding with the horned beast. I knew that the time would soon come when I would break free from the shackles and complete my mission.

You see, what they don’t know is that I know what’s going to happen. I tried telling them many times that they will perish, but they never listen to me. They will die, and yet they face their own mortality with stolid faces and uncaring gazes. I tried warning others but they too seemed too embroiled with their own problems to recognize the coming cataclysm.

The flood will not only wipe the unclean from the earth but also liberate the pure and allow them to finish the mission with which they have been assigned. I have seen this vision in my sleep many times. I take the medicine they give me, they say it will make me sleep and I see within my mind’s eye: a great wall of water cleansing the earth, restoring the righteous and smoking the sinners. I know before long it will be over. I have prepared myself for the glorious hour of redemption. The purpose I have in life will be fulfilled.

I’ve made some plans for the day of reckoning. I made some weapons to prepare for the hunt with the Horned One, constructed from the knicknackeries that they give us. Plastic forks, spoons, cups, hairbands. I fashioned a makeshift spear from this stuff, a modest weapon for a servant of the mighty savior. This journal they let me keep has been very helpful in recording the arduous process of purification. All will know the great glories, the exact details of what I did, my mighty deeds.

When the world stops spinning, who will be there to mobilize it once more? I will rise to the challenge set upon me by my masters and annihilate that which stands in the way of progress!

The battle is only beginning, this is the way the world ends. Not with a whimper, but with the angry retribution of a thousand valkyries. This is the continuation of the Battle of Thermopylae! The foreign devils will meet their end, when we, the Chosen Warriors of his Almighty Army rise from the grave and ride once more! General Custer will be avenged, let the slaughter BEGIN.

So, tell me how it is and whether or not I should give up. Blog on my gay feelings (not feelings of homoeroticism, you cunt) tomorrow, unprecedented, eh?

PS. No clever PS comment today.