There’s Something About The Rain – Short Story

The lights bleed into the darkness, jumping from one post to the next, diluted by the sharp streams of water that cascades down from the heavens above to the earth below. He grips the lead tightly and pulls the dog along quickly, keeping his eyes focused on the footpath ahead, feverishly scanning from side to side for any movement. Music suddenly blares to life in his ears, sending a shockwave of pressure into his brain from either side of his head. His eyes shoot with an urgency towards the dimly lit screen of his phone as he search through a plethora of songs at his fingertips, selecting one song after another, after another until he finally feels a rush of adrenaline shoot from the base of his skull. It’s in that moment that his dog Abby begins to pulls awkwardly on her lead, causing him to shift his focus once more from the phone and back to the path in front of him.

The street lights flicker and spark before him, exploding one after another as if something was traveling towards him at an impossible speed. The street light above him explodes and he cowers his head underneath his jacket as they are showered by a thousand tiny glass shards, then an uneasy silence. He slowly gets back to his feet and peers up the now empty dark street in front of him and begins to make out a huge silhouetted figure that stands some meters away.

“Hello father, we need to stop meeting like this,” it’s scratchy voice hisses.

“WHY WON’T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“You know that I can’t do that, our existences are intertwined as if they were but one. You are the imagination and I am the muse,” it says as it makes its way towards him, moving like a poorly animated a cartoon before disappearing a few feet from him only to be replaced by a pale skinned girl. Her white nightie torn and dirty, her eyes blank empty pockes of nothingness, and as she opens her mouth to speak he feels a tremor vibrate beneath his feet. “Its power grew strong from the words that were written, word that were read and spread, it grew so strong that it broke free of its cage, and now the words of the story no longer hold it at bay, for the world knows the beast by its name, so if you wish to live, dare not say it’s name for it will come, dare not hear it’s words for it will know, dare not see it’s shadows for it will be, so say it once and you will see, say it’s name and come join me, say it, say it, say it with me, The Roundhead, The Roundhead, THE ROUNDHEAD!” She screams before disappearing.

Marty let’s out a cold shiver as he looks down at Abby’s crumpled bloody form and then back up into the beast’s black pool like eyes as it stands at the end of the hallway.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!” he screams.

“I want you to stop fighting me. I want the story to end my way, I want what is mine,” it says in a deep gravelly voice.

“THE STORY IS OVER! YOU LOS..” he doesn’t get to finish his words as the beast is upon him, and lifts him high into the air.

“The story isn’t over until I say it’s over.”

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