The Rainstorm

Although this was admittedly written spur of the moment, I’m starting to wonder whether I should continue with this story. Hope you enjoy!

The rain roared as it rushed to the earth from black clouds covering the night sky, soaking the dirt and the grass and the two men, sitting stoically across from one another, an intricate circular pattern carved into the earth between them. The trench was already filled with water, and now it bounced with the ripples of the raindrops. The men seemed to take no notice, though, as each gazed unblinking into the other’s eyes.

Neither wore a shirt, but rather left his thin and bony torso exposed to the elements. Lightning flashed in the distance, reflecting briefly off one’s bald head. The other’s long hair fell straight, his bangs plastered against his face. It didn’t swing as his face turned toward the lightning and then back to the other, who had reacted similarly.

Both retrieved a thin vial from the recesses of clothing and poured the contents into the water. The particles fell through the water, disturbed only by the raindrops cascading on the surface. Several seconds later, thunder drowned out the rain, setting the trenches of water quivering. At once the particles in the water rose from their resting place on the trench floor, rocketing all over the intricate design.

There was a second lightning strike. The two men added another substance. When the thunder pealed again, this too dissolved over the whole design, which now began to glow faintly

A third fork of lightning. And then a fourth. Each time, the men poured a new substance into the trench, and every time the accompanying thunder rang, the substance hurried to fill the entire network. The glow intensified with each addition, and it slowly changed colors. It started faintly white, but then grew violet, then blue, then green, yellow, orange, and finally red.

By now the thunder accompanied the lightning in perfect unison. As soon as the last element was added, a fork of lightning arched through the sky, landing right in the center of the design. At the end of the split second that the lightning existed, it glowed red like the water, before the shock wave rippled out, tossing the one man’s hair back, though both men sat, as though statues riveted into the ground.

The thunder blasted their ears, and the water in the trenches leapt out in terror at the noise and the power of the lightning. But rather than slop over the sides, the water rose, still glowing, through the air, emptying the trenches as it sailed in strings up and then around to the center, where the lightning had struck. There, it collected in a single orb, like burning sun, hovering ever so slightly off the ground.

Only now did the two men stand, each producing a new vial, this one larger than any they had yet used. They stepped forward, over the remains of the trenches, toward the orb in the center. The vials passed through it, collecting it in part. Then the vials vanished back into the mens’ clothing.

The bald one reached down and put his hand into the remaining sphere. When he retracted, the orb came with it, collapsing so that it formed a sort of liquid glove on his hand. The two stared at it for a moment in evaluation, and then the bald one turned, pointing his now gloved hand at a tree several yards away. A red spark burst from the end of the glove, rocketing through the rain as it bounced from raindrop to raindrop, till at last it reached the target. The point of contact exploded, and the tree crumbled under the weight of the blast and the loss of balance.

The two turned to each other and smiled in dark satisfaction.


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