The tunnel pitched back and forth, as if giants were smashing the earth with their fists. I looked down the tunnel, and stared into the mouth of God. He devoured the soil, the roots, and even the rocks in His path.

His voice was thunder, a baby's wail, metal tearing into metal, a symphony, a cacophony. His face was a swirl of amber fire - yellow skin stretched taut over a ribbed skull, with rows upon rows of swirling razors inside of His maw. His breath was a hurricane. His ...