The Rain it Goes on, Through Life, Through Death
In the silence they approach, aware or unaware we do not know,
The rain goes on, paying no heed to men on their way,
Are they of mischievous dealings or are they of no acquaintance of each other
Will there be conflict?
Will there be peace and will men continue their ways?
Will there be packages of unknown goods passed from hand to hand or will there be fluid of crimson flowing from man
Only to be washed away by the rain, one man to walk away in a bloodstained suit and the other to be left with a hole through their head
Nonetheless, the rain pays no heed and the rain goes on never minding the men
A man walks through the rain, a days work done of what we know not. He holds an umbrella to shelter himself from the rain but even then his feet are soaked by the centimetre of rain, his polished shoes of leather. His name is Gareth Twofeet, and he is a man of much wealth. He earns money well, through methods unknown, good or bad, nevertheless the rain does not care and it continues pouring over the town. The man proceeds to walk towards a small dark tunnel merely just a part of his path on his journey to somewhere. The shelter that the tunnel gave was often homes to a few homeless people and rats and mice that burrowed into the walls of the tunnel to make their homes. The man steps further into the dark of the tunnel…
He steps into what he thinks he knows, leaving the pouring rain behind him in the open of the streets
He sees crumpled paper, rusted coins, cracked stone, the glass of broken glass bottles of beer and a hatch into the sewers to the right of him.
He smells the rotten smell of decaying rats, the odour of the rain that pours behind him,
He hears the squeaking of mice, the pitter patter of the continuous rain, the sound of footsteps, quick, light, heading towards him…
Footsteps of no ordinary passer-by…
Another man approaches from the other end of the tunnel. This man may not be wealthy but he is cunning, strong and quick. His name is Edgar Bloodstone. He is tall, 6’4, bald with a round head and dressed in only in a pitch black suit as if to hide dark secrets on his person that would be revealed by any other clothing. Around his neck sits a golden chain hanging quite comfortably with a large crimson gem attached to it. The sound of footsteps get lounder. Edgar is getting closer to the man he wishes to meet. He grasps the gem on his necklace, takes a deep breath in and feels the power course through his veins, the motivation, the will, the driving push behind the actions he has committed and will commit.
“Who’s there?” A man speaks with a shake in his voice.
Edgar did not wish to answer, focused only on completing his mission, a mission he’d planned for so long.
“I know you’re out there, someone. Answer back or I may be forced to scream with all my might.”
Edgar frowned to himself for a moment, but soon his frown turned into a gleaming grin. A grin full of malice.
“Just a businessman, and who may you be?” Edgar’s grin widened as he spoke this, admiring his ability to deceive. A moment of silence passed before a reply came through the dark of the tunnel.
“Oh, I’m just a construction worker on a stroll.” Gareth spoke in an awfully anxious voice.
The lies were obvious. “But surely you are of a much higher class, with your fancy suit and umbrella?” Edgar’s eyesight was as sharp as an owls, seeing the man in the dark.
“Your eyesight must be extraordinary, I am amazed at your ability to see in the dark.” Gareth spoke trying to shrug off the truth that Edgar spoke.
“You flatter me, but that’s much enough talk be on your way and I’ll be on mine. Now hand it over and we’ll conclude our business” Gareth frowned, the frown turned to disbelief, the disbelief into shock, the shock into panic. Edgar’s grin widened unnaturally, and his footsteps, they quickened.
Footsteps quickened, one man resolute, one man hesitant.
The man with the crimson gem gleaming, dashed swiftly through the dark
The man with the umbrella hesitant, adrenaline coursing through his veins, too terrified to make his move
Too late, one man thought, so quick another was
An arm wrapped around the neck of the other
One mans face red from lack of breath, the other’s unaffected, cold and pale, as if he had done this many a times before
The struggle of a man unobserved by anyone but his offender
He kicked, he punched, he elbowed, he flailed like a helpless man in the sky without anything to slow his fall
One man in control, refusing to let it go till his target was sent into submission
The other man was near dead, his remaining supply of oxygen nearly out
He looked at his umbrella on the ground, sitting in front of his feet,
the inconvenient sharp tip now a convenience
A last resort, he clasped the umbrella using his feet and thrust it into the leg of the man behind him
The victim, on all fours, gasping for breath
The man with the gem of crimson red stumbled back
He frowned at his right leg, punctured by the umbrella, his leg now oozing a palette of red
How disappointed he was, since his target was so close to dead
The struggle wasn’t over yet…
“It wouldn’t have to be so painful if you had just submit! Now there will be no mercy!” Edgar was furious, not because he felt pain, but because he’d taken longer than he planned to. Gareth was still regaining his breath but Edgar was already in approaching him. Let the struggle, recommence…
A man on all fours, his breath barely regained
Another on two legs, one leaking red,
A gun in hand, a shot to the head,
A knife to the heart to make sure he is dead
He took what he came for,
A little parcel tucked away in the jacket of Gareth,
He held it with pride and limped away
He left the tunnel, leaving Gareth inside,
His crimson gem gleamed, almost as if it were pleased
Edgar turned his head and heard Gareth speak his last,
“Now you’ve done it,” and his life was lost to the past
The crimson gem’s gleam faded,
The little package, it started to sizzle
The man of countless murders stared, wide eyed
As the package blew the sight off one of his eyes
The man lay on the side of the road in the rain,
Cracked but alive and intact like his crimson gem
The rain poured on, it had not stopped, not since the men walked through the tunnel,
The rain, it poured on,
Through conflict,
Through pain,
Through bloodshed and death,
The rain goes on
For only itself, will it dare stop
