Chapter 8

Next Halloween.

Brain, aka Dionysius the Greek God, aka Dear Old Dad, was less active in our lives lately, but then he had other mortal offspring to collect, I suspected. He didn’t say as much, but I got the distinct impression that he wanted to gather his progeny for some reason, and now felt some urgency to do so. We now lived in a new, far nicer home provided by pooling our funds to acquire it and gain more privacy. No one was likely to pry very much into our business where we lived now.

My sisters inherited the bar, while I kept the liquor stores, which was a very handy arrangement indeed. Warren and Felipe became partners in my chain, in fact, investing a good amount of capital toward its success. I didn’t doubt that Father would approve once he returned to us, but in the meantime, we had to act independently and we did. This was quite literally an incestuous arrangement between liquor stores and pub, but no one in the family minded at all and nobody else seemed to notice.

We were a family bound by our common descent from Dionysius, the Greek God of Wine, our father (and grandfather in the case of the twins). We were above the petty rules and morals of our local community, weren’t we? We were certainly above that silly law against incest and nobody gave two shits about Amber and Amanda being underage when I bred them, either. The paternity of their newborns was nobody’s business but ours. Predictably, both of them gave me twins, two sets of identical girls just like their mothers.

“Ain’t they beautiful? Just like their mothers, in fact. Just remember, it’s my turn to breed your daughters, as I stipulated. Just as it’s my turn to breed each of my daughters in turn. After that, well, there’s Warren and Felipe, of course. They deserve turns as well. With each woman in the group, that is,” Father surprised me by intruding upon my thoughts.

“Michelle was never legally your wife, was she?” I laughed.

“Nope. That was a helpful cover, of course. Not that anyone is going to bother with paperwork and legalities. These human laws are rather silly, anyway. After all, even your lawful wife, Tracy, isn’t actually legal despite the official vows and wedding license. You didn’t know that she was your sister at the time, but evidently, her being so invalidates your union.

“None of you care about that, nor should you. All of your sisters are your wives, as are both of your eldest daughters now. Your brothers, Warren and Felipe, are your husbands as well and vice versa. I hope that you’re all getting plenty of strange, too,” Father waxed parental, of course.

“Naturally, though we don’t let these casual partners into the inner circle, the bosom of the family,” I asserted, which was true.

“Excellent. Now, with time, I hope to see the rise of a Dionysian sex and wine cult, if you will, all across the world. You’re part of that juggernaut, but only one cog in the machine, as it were. You are the cornerstone, but hardly the only stone. It is time for my return to prominence and worship. Time to resurface and receive the adoration that I truly deserve. I’m not alone, of course. Other Gods are doing the same, from Zeus to Apollo to Athena to Hera from my pantheon, to those of other pantheons as well.

“They might use different methods at times, but the net effect is a whittling away at Jehovah’s worship and thus his strength. Once he’s weak enough, he’ll be forced to acknowledge the existence of other Gods and Christianity and Islam will both decline. Judaism is another matter. That’s an older religion that predates its monotheistic tendencies and can revert to a more henotheistic basis. It doesn’t proselytize, anyway,” Father explained.