Fan Fiction ❯ Rain Rain Never Leave ❯ Stay for a While. Maybe We Can Find You a Home. ( Chapter 1 )

Stop and smell the essence of eternity……

 

Rain Rain Never Leave

Chapter 1: Stay for a While. Maybe We Can Find You a Home.

 

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Short spurts of sound. The smell of the grass. The fresh cling of dirt that has changed itself to mud. Rain was her element.

But then she had many elements. Like the time her Uncle George came to town and fell gasping near the well in the backyard. She'd been the one who kept calm while her parents were running in terror. She'd been the one who made the emergency phone call and made sure he could breathe while the help arrived. Not that she liked to think back on her childhood much. No, it's better to leave those days alone, her memories clustered together in the tiny unused space of her brain.

The rain had washed away any sign of the killing she had just seen. No blood. And somehow the body had disappeared as well, as if she had wished it away and it had departed from her presence with grace. But then, she seemed to get a lot of what she wanted. The poor bastard was dead, wasn't he?

It had been late, and all she'd wanted was to get in somewhere from the coming rain. Thinking back, the rain was more welcoming than the strangers she bumped into behind the shed near Dawson's Street.

It was Brute's gang. Brute, the typically oversized bumpkin who felt the need to run around with his buddies like a pack of wild banshees, terrorizing anyone who would let them. But Brute was never a cruel murderer. He just enjoyed getting his fun through the magic of fear. Fear can be a powerful thing, and Brute knew this, so he harnessed it whenever possible. Oversized and dull he may be, but he knew fear, and he knew exactly why he liked it so much.

She shivered. The storm was ending, but the wind never seemed to cease in the Gallows of town. In her experience this was the worst place to set up shop because no one wanted to walk here. But that didn't prevent some citizens from trying. And not all the shops were sleazy two-bit drunkard alleyways either. Some were respectable, and generally kind to her, when she'd let them be and didn't go biting their heads off with her vicious mouth. Now they wouldn't want her back, not after tonight.

She shook her head to clear it. Not only was she still standing exactly where Brute had fallen, her mind was wandering to monotonous aspects of the town. Run out of here first and don't come back, then worry about the murder of the previous evening. Had she been standing here all morning? Had anyone called the police? Her eyes had been deceiving her earlier, the body was still there. Twisted and red, like one of the carnival clowns in the scary movies her brother used to watch. How she hated those movies, and could never look into the eyes of the villains. What she saw there made her insides churn and her heart melt in shock and sorrow and, of course, fear. Amazing how the primal fear of every human is linked with death.

Running now. No longer staring. Picking her feet up one after another seemed the hardest thing she'd ever done. Her mind still had the grotesque figure burned into it, so it was as if she weren't really leaving the scene outside the shed. It would never leave her. Brute was dead, and it was because of her.

 

~*~

 

The rain was gone now. The only trace of it was the wet splotches on the pavement in places, and the occasion plop of water from the trees. She'd come past Boony's house on 42nd, stopping to catch her breath for a little while under the eaves of his neighbors porch. Boony's was the farthest anyone would look for her. They must know it was her by now. All week these attacks had been happening and someone had ended up dead, but never before had she witnessed it. Someone must know that she was the one causing them.

Now that she was safe and the last traces of rain were still fresh in her mind to keep her spirits up, she allowed herself to look back on the evening.

 

~*~

 

“Sere, wait! You can't go out again tonight! Not after what happened the other day!”

She just scowled at her brother. Never would he be able to stop her from leaving this dreadful house. “Pat you know I'd rather be anywhere but here right now. And if I end the night next to a dead body, well, that's just a risk I'm going to have to take.” A twisted grin followed this statement. Almost as if her sardonic nature knew what was to come.

Pat just pleaded with his eyes. It wasn't like her to ignore his wishes so easily. He knew she didn't want to hurt him. “Please, we can go down to the creek and watch the rain. I won't even complain about the cold. We can go fishing when the storm comes.”

He knew her soft spots, and fishing and rain were two of them. The two combined made for excellent supper, because the fish tended to stay towards the top of the creek during a rainfall to catch the misfortunate bugs that had been caught by raindrops and fallen to the water. Fish enjoyed this feast, and Sere enjoyed feasting on them. So she had a loving relationship with bugs.

However, she wouldn't let this change her resolution to get out of her parents' house and head downtown. Maybe catch Dram if he was still in the neighborhood. Thinking of the wandering gypsy, she said goodbye once more to Pat and promised to return the following morning for an early lunch. If she could catch Dram before he left that would just be an added bonus.

At the start of the storm, she had made her way past Oakland and onto 12th Street, no one paying her much mind. Children were never out this late, but the girl Sere was an exception. Long past were the days when passerby's asked her if she was lost or needed help finding her way home. She had merely scoffed at them and made her way to a tavern. Now she knew better though. Taverns were never better than the local pub for food, and much worse for company. The Irish clans in town were hilarious drunks, but could control themselves enough to keep from violence.

Making her way to Johnson's Pub, and internally reveling at the storm that was just beginning, she watched the streets for any sign of her favorite gypsy. He was probably in Allentown by now though. Long gone, not to return until next spring.

But there he was! As if he were waiting for her, in his scraggly old black canvas he'd fashioned into a trench coat. His eyes glinted, and she could already see the trace of a smile on his lips as he walked towards her. Something was different though. He wasn't supposed to be here still, and it didn't seem like he was preparing to leave or anything. The night before he had told her he was Wandering a bit early this month, because of the recent murders. She didn't blame him. But something must have happened that forced him to stay.

“Dram, what's hanging? You supposed to beat it last evening.” Her tongue tried out the gypsy slang that he used, but it felt funny to her.

“Ah, but evening tide brought light to these eyes instead of darkness, hours ago.” His jive had taken her a little at first, but now she could clearly understand that he had discovered something last night after she saw him.

“What is it? Will you tell me?” He shook his head at her for giving up on her attempt at his speech.

“Ay, but wander with me a ways. Evening's dim light may yet bring more light than darkness ever did.”

She followed his lead as he weaved through an Irish clan, already drunk and trying to find their way home to their wives. Sere wondered what it was he needed to see before he could leave. Not that she wanted him to go. His stories and his good-natured ways always put a smile on her face. And he seemed to have a soft spot for her, seeing as they were so close in age. It's not as if too many young teens wander the streets at night, so those she saw tended to either leave her be or help her out.

They had made their way to Dawson's Street, a couple blocks over. The town wasn't very big, but the numbers of the streets and the stench of the Gallows could make you think it was a modern industrial city. Dawson's Street was a favorite for gangs and violent drunks.

“Dram, do we gotta stay here? I don't like the feel of this place.” He nodded, looking grave for once. She ducked under a spruce and followed him to the shed out behind Dawson's.

There was Brute and his gang, eating as usual. Probably stole it off of some poor old lady. “Oy, Brute! When you gonna learn that food isn't the only thing worth waking up for?” She was about to glare at him when she felt Dram's cool hand on her shoulder. They weren't here to fight.

Dram whistled. His cat Shadow followed her name sake and slinked out of the darkness behind the shed and came to rest in Dram's shadow. Sere nearly giggled, it felt like he was calling in his skinny little cat for reinforcements. Not that they would need any. She figured she could take four of them in her prime, and Dram could take the rest.

His whisper broke her thoughts. “No need to worry. I wanted to show you something, recall? Not to break out fists on dumb Brute and his posy.” He pointed past the slightly angry gang, to the shed's opening. The door had been jammed shut for as long as Sere could remember, but now it was wide open. Inside something glowed red. Not just glowed. The red wavered and twisted on the walls, appearing and disappearing in an instant. It reminded her of the shimmering pattern you can see at the bottom of the ocean when you find a glass to look through to keep your eyes from blurring. Leave it to Brute to not see the magnificent glow right behind him.

It was almost like it was calling to her. She wanted to go in and see the red glow, let it envelope her body so that she could be red too. Something was holding her back……Dram's arm, around her waist.

“It's dangerous. I needed to know if you could see it though. Those bullies can't. And you look really ridiculous to them right now.” His slang had disappeared, making her look up and suddenly become conscious of the ten or so teens gawking at her, as she stared into a seemingly empty shed. Her pride sprung up.

“What you scum balls looking at?” They snickered, and something strange started to happen. Brute had followed her gaze to the open shed, and his expression changed. It wasn't the normal dull curiosity. His eyes began to shine like the clowns of her brother's movies, and his gray eyes turned bright copper. Fists were clenched to his sides and his whole body shook with an eagerness she couldn't place. But she couldn't look away from those eyes. There was a sudden bright intelligence and strength in them. His whole body lurched, and in her mind there was suddenly one thought.

`He wants to kill me.'

But before he could strike, Dram was in action. His coat was a whirl of black, and his face was void of emotion. She'd never seen him fight like this before. He fought with a purpose, as if the death of his opponent was the only thing on his mind. But that couldn't be right, not her Dram. The kindhearted Dram who hated when she dragged him into fights.

Nevertheless, she could see the battle was over before it began. Brute's gang had fled, still thinking more about their stomachs than their leader. Soon she was aware that Dram had every intention of killing Brute.

“Dram! Stop! What do you think you're doing?” His fists continued. Brute was flailing madly, grabbing onto Dram anywhere in a rage. Dram's coat was ripped by now, and she could smell blood coming off of both of them. Just then the rain came.

Dram's eyes widened for a moment. Something was stopping him, maybe the rain. He kneed Brute in the groin to send him down, then went to where Sere was watching with frightened eyes and shielded her face with his coat. There was some kind of explosion she couldn't see, and a disgusting smell wafting through the air, mixed with the smell of rain. Dram was walking away from her now. He had protected her from the blast, whatever it had been.

“Look Sere, I have to go now. This town isn't safe for me. I think you should be alright for a few more days. Come and get me if you need me. Whatever you do, don't go home yet. They'll be looking for you there. Stay at Boony's or Tom's, someone you trust. I'll come back for you in a week or so. Whatever happens in the next few days, it's not your fault.” And with that he was gone. No explanation. Only that something wasn't going to be her fault. Doesn't that generally mean that something is her fault, but he wants her to feel better?

She turned. And promptly threw up. She knew what had exploded. It was Brute's stomach, and his head was twisted at a wrong angle. All she could do was stare.

 

A/N: Ok……I know this is sort of confusing at the moment. It's the first chapter though, so more to be explained as I go along. I was in a random writing mood this morning, and this story just kind of flowed from me onto paper. It shouldn't be too long of a story, but I like where it's going and I have the next few chapters mapped out in my head. Let me know what you think!

 

~Isuki