City of Rain
She saw her son’s blood drain in a downpour. Cradling his head, She felt nothing for a moment. After several moments, her entire being filled with a simmering rage. She was a single mother, and she knew she was a good one. But She knew, in her heart of hearts, that the death of her son was no one’s fault but her own. She was now alone in the city of rain.
Later that night, She lay in bed, going over every possible outcome. She wondered if she had decided to drive her son home from elementary school, or if she got off early from the station, or if she didn’t take that shift as a detective, maybe he’d still be alive. She felt empty, and the city of rain started to consume her. She woke up the next morning, still buried alive.
She wanted justice, and wanted them to pay. They had taken what She loved above all else. Slowly, one by one, the entirety of her soul started to be picked apart. Originally having 3 pieces, She lost her first two only one year prior. And before her soul was healed, her final piece of soul was ripped out. Now, she had nothing. She wanted justice, moreover revenge, against the gang of five that killed her son.
She spent the entire day writing against a rainstruck window. Planning, contemplating, and deciding her next move. She knew that if she were to act, it would have to be by her own terms. The city of rain had taken everything, and She wasn’t expecting to get anything back from it. For her to act in accordance with the law, She would see no justice that day, or any day after that. She needed to do this herself. She took her emptiness, made it a mask, and wore it for all to see.
She set out that evening, masking herself in a shroud of freedom and hatred. She would not be defeated by the city of rain, nor anything it had to offer. She tracked down a man by the name of Eli, the low man. She threw him against the wall shed with stone, forcing the words out of his lungs. She listened to his breath, but found nothing. Swiftly and quietly, his last word was forced out, reaching no one’s ears but his own.
She sat in her son’s room, holding his teddy bear. A splash of blood was strewn over the bear’s ears, and ears alone. She held it close as if her son was still there. It was the one thing that made her son feel safe, the only thing that made him brave. As rain pitter-pattered against the windowsill, she wondered if it could make her feel safe again too. Slowly, as the thoughts of emptiness clouded her vision, she drifted off to sleep.
She awoke the next morning, lying on the floor of the kitchen. She sat up, looked around, and started on towards her next step. She looked for the next lowest man, someone by the name of Morris. She planned and schemed, and by nightfall, the shroud of hated and freedom had encompassed her once again. She set out for Morris, but upon arriving, found him already dead. Fallen on the ground, with a dagger through the heart, Morris was no longer there. In a mixture of awe and frustration, She disappeared into the rain, ready to plan her next move.
The following night, she descending once again. She set out for Peter, the middle man of the gang. She heard that he knew all, and knew he would help her find the final two. She found him, and he cowered in fear, begging for the mercy. He had answers, and told her where the final two were. Tom begged and begged, but his words could not penetrate her shroud, and his words fell too short of her ears. Slowly, the city of rain consumed him too.
She arrived home, and spent the night planning. The teddy bear stayed in her sights throughout. Around midday, she started to drift off. She awoke the following morning, close to what would be daybreak. She rushed out to find the second in command, Tom, but found him crushed in an alley close to her house. She wondered who would go to the same efforts as her to complete such a task. She walked home in her sopping shoes.
The following night, she donned the mask for the final time. She set out to find York, the final man in the gang. She spent two nights searching for him throughout the rain, but to no avail and finding so few clues. Eventually, she tracked him to a dock. He was getting onto a boat, ready to leave the city of rain behind him. When York saw her, he reached for a gun. But before he could pull it out, she was already upon him, her eyes red. Amidst his gasps of air, words were once again forced from the lungs. But this time, there was nothing She wanted to hear. She had heard everything, and there was nothing more that she wanted than for the last word to be spoken. Slowly, he too succumbed to the rain, and it was over. She looked up into the sky, unsure of whether it was day or night. All she saw was rain.
She spent the next month wondering if what she did was the right thing to do. The rain poured outside, and the city of rain was scratching at her doorstep. As time went on, the feeling of emptiness did not fade, but instead became a part of her. She accepted it in it’s entirety. She drifted throughout the remainder of her days, and until her death, knew what She did was right.