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Raining Red

Updated on August 5, 2014

I am so tired of the riddles. I am so tired of the secret messages so eloquently and frustratingly hidden in the most ingenious ways. I am tired of the lies, of the deceit and far too many games that detract from the simple truth, the gritty and the plain language. I am tired of all of that, so from here on out I am saying only the truth, in all of its chilling and frightening glory.

First I must say that I have no disillusions or insanity. I have a target, not a desire or hunger to sedate. There is a man that took everything from me, and now I am going to take my revenge. Simple, focused, sane goal.

So when I say I am going to kill someone, I really mean I am going to kill someone. And since you are listening to my story you are going to watch me do it.

My name is David Suigetsu, and tonight is the perfect night to kill someone.

It was already past nine by the time I had reached the park. Shadows were already beginning to dance around the street lamps, the trees stretching out their nocturnal hands out to the sky, and as always there were parasites. Cockroaches and misfits scurrying around trying to find a shaded corner in which to continue some drug addict ritual sacred only to them. A darken sky, the smell of rotten leaves and a fresh storm arriving, the chill of the wind as it lashes at my coat.

I passed a table underneath a street lamp. A black, rusted covered table embroidered in leaves and designs of trees. Two matching chairs were set up around it with frameworks in the the shape of vines wrapping around a rock to form the cushion and the back of the chairs. I turned away and continued to walk forward, contemplating my actions, the six shooter warm in my pocket. I walked with my rage and anger rolled up like a three piece suit, thinking about the day that it was all taken from me. That day, when I was sitting in those same chairs. When I was waiting in that same table. Waiting for my future doom.

I will always remember that day, two years ago. The park was lively in the afternoon sun. Everywhere I looked there was a couple holding hands, good friends high fiving and hanging on each others shoulders. From time to time a child would run past me, some playing with a ball while others had kites. I was so envious of the children, of the “tiny tots” that still had their lives in their hands. In their hands was a life they could control, a future that was theirs. That was something that my hands had but was taken away. Stolen.

A few weeks prior, my accounts were emptied. A thief somehow took everything that I had. Savings, checking, 401K, stocks, everything that I had ever worked for was gone. I called everyone that I could in order to find out what had happened. How could all my money and all my investments be gone in a single day? So far every investigator that I had called were astonished by what had happened. There was no trace of a potential stolen identity, no bank robberies, nothing. As far as they saw it, my money simply vanished. Everyone was in awe of the action, calling it the crime of the century. I was less than honored to have been the victim of such a history breaking action. Less than honored.

One day I received a note, written in an italicized red:

“There is a funny story waiting for you in the park.”

I should have notified the police and gave them this potential clue in my hand. I should have given it to the investigators, or to the government. However, I was still angry that they had failed me once. The truth is, I was curious. Curious to meet the one that commit such a disaster to my life.

I went to the park.

I didn’t know where to go. In fact it was my first time ever visiting park. I never had a reason go. It didn’t take long before I had to sit down, contenting myself with a small sit watching the children walk by.

Then he came.

He walked with dignity, pride, charisma. The air of secrecy and achievement breathing out of him. It did seem weird to have a man of his caliber come walking through the park. Far more so when he decided to sit right across from me, with a devil-may-care smile.

“I figured you wanted to meet me,” he said, “And to be honest I wanted to meet you too, for a long time.”

“You’re the thief,” I said.

“My name is Jacob Dysmas”, he said, “and yes, I am the thief.”

The moment was hard to grasp. Right here in front of me was the man that ruined my life, the man who stole everything I had. I should have called the cops, I should have called the police right there. But he was intriguing, a metro-seductive trait that enveloped him. What could I have done in this moment when I was face to face with the truth of my despair. I wanted to destroy him, but a greater desire wanted to know why he would come out in the open like this, why he was so bold as to tell publicly the crime he committed.

“Why did you call me out”, I asked, “You know that I could call the police right now and they can take you here.”

“I was able to steal every last cent from you”, he replied, “If I can do such an impossible act as that, I think escaping from the cops would be child's play.”

He had a point.

“So why did you call me out.”

“Honestly this is all out of pride”, he replied, “I'm the type of person that can't resist bragging about every little thing that I do.'

‘However, another reason that I called you is because I am not a selfish guy, I want to share this credit with you in this moment.”

“So are you going to give me back my money?” I had to ask.

“No, I just want us to share this moment glorifying me”.

That last comment was smothered with a slime too disgusting to describe. It broke down his perfect disguise of attractiveness, showing a hint of a shadow that has been rotten for a long time. I tried to lunge at him, but a glimmer of silver from his pocket caught my eye. He began to wiggle his finger at me, shooshing at my attempts. This man was truly a bastard.

“You are a moral man David”, He said, “You wouldn't want to give a terrible scene to the children, right?”

Reluctantly I pulled back, palms sweating and heart beat rushing. Everything that he was saying was pissing me off, and pushing me to the brink of a nervous collapse.

“On second thought, maybe you are not a moral man,” he admitted, “Maybe you are just a coward.”


“Yeah, “ he said, “the type that shiver from a simple conversation. The type of guy that is scared of their own dreams. In fact now I feel a bit disappointed that my prey was quite a weak man.”

He got up from his chair while pocketing his gun, tipping his hair in a demeaning bow.

“Tell you what,” He said, “I feel bad stealing from a man who is that pathetic, so I promise I will leave you alone from now on.”

He dipped his head again and was gone, walking straight into the crowds until he melted away. I slumped in my chair looking at the blue sky, unable to believe what had just happened.

A raindrop fell on my check. Before long a small drizzle came down. I checked the gun in my pocket, and found that it was still warm. I continued walking through the park, walking through the rain that was by no means refreshing. A young couple ran past trying to escape from the rain. They found some shelter under a tree and began to hug and make out.

I couldn't help thinking about that cliché: you don't know what you have until its gone. I had heard that line millions of time until I could recite it in several different languages. But honestly it was true. Painfully true.

The boy was stroking her hair, enjoying every delicate blond strain that fell between his fingers. But in my eyes the strands turn black, like the night sky devoid by the distractions of the star. And beneath that moral canopy was the smooth caresses of white skin embroidered by almond eyes and a delicate bloom of a smile. Her face rushed back to me, and the name burned down my back.

Michelle Tanaka, that was her name. A few years back she became Michelle Suigetsu, my wife. My wife, strong in her loyalty and her obedience. I was never a violent husband, but I was never supportive either. But Michelle took my faults in strides, taking my burdens along with her own problems, all because she knew that I couldn't carry mines alone.

I told her I love you once. I stroked her night sky hair only when we were dating. In the past I would drink from her sweet lips, but then gave her only pecks on the cheeks after our marriage. She was perfect and I never done anything good for her. There were times when I would wonder if maybe I deserved to have her taken away from me. But not by him.

A storm had built up during my job hunts, so I simply decided to go back home. That day I was only worried about what dinner would be. A foolish thought that distracted from noticing the door was unlocked. There she was, her eyes fixed upon me, with a silver gun pressed down on her forehead. I nearly fell to my knees in fear, a desperate speech of begging began to form, until I saw the styled suit and shameful dip of the head. Jacob.

A shout flew out of my mouth as I ran straight towards him, charging forward and seeing nothing but the red of my rage and the night sky of her hair. But my sudden charge was stopped when he shot the floorboards, nearly getting my foot.

I fell down, broken and ashamed. Like an obedient child I fell down before this man, this man who had stolen control over my life, ruling over my desires now. He massaged his head with the handle of his gun, snickers and chuckles filling our home, now his home.

“You said you would leave me alone!” I shouted, “Let her go!”

“I had an epiphany David”, Jacob said, “I was thinking about how lame you are, how lowly and cowardly you are and I had an idea.'

“I was thinking about real predators of the wild, and I realized that they don't go for the strongest or the toughest prey. They always go for the helpless and the weak.”

“What do you want from me”, I begged, “tell me! What do you want from me!”

“Everything”, He said “everything, I want your works, your achievements, your desires and some day your life. I want everything from you”.

“Why?” I said, “why! I'm begging you why!”

“Because I can” He shouted with triumph, my dark patron. “The weak is always preyed upon because the predators can take everything from them!”

He looked at me with strong eyes. No, his eyes were greedy and lustful. The strong eyes that caught me were Michelle's, fearful yet unmoved. She was thinking, I don't what or how, but she was still clinging to a hope of escape. Slowly those eyes turned from clever to unmovable, with lips that began to form the words I L O V E Y O....

“Everything”, Jacob snarled.

I had to look away when he pulled the trigger. I was just too afraid, too weak. When I turned back I found her lying on the floor, her black hair stained with red. I couldn't even reach out to her. I was too afraid to look at her lovely eyes. Nothing but chills ran through me.

A chill ran through me as the wind began to pick up, but this time it felt different. Once, I was chilled from fear, but now I tingle with a cold focus. I checked the gun one more time. Still warm. So warm that I began to worry if the gun might overheat and go off.

The rain did not let up but kept pouring by the time I reached the center of the park, a large circular fountain surrounded by at least seven large statues of knights and a clock reading three in the morning. It was the hour where people should be home. No one was at the park this time. Empty. Lucky me.

I stood by one of the statues, a knight striding a horse leading a charge. I began to wonder why I chose to look for him in the park. Probably lead by the misleading romantic thought that I could end it here where it all began, right here in this park. I look up to the sky and I couldn’t see the stars. My head dropped and let out a sigh as I stared at the shadows of the street lamps, and the red stain growing in my right shoulder.

My body moved before I realized I was shot. I rushed to hide behind the statue before the second and third shot followed. Both barely missed, the third hitting so close to my ear that they began to reel from the ringing. Everything was muffled, but I could hear a shout from somewhere. As my sense came back, I heard his chant.

“Tonight it’s mine!” Jacob shouted, “tonight your life is mine!”

I heard his footsteps rushing over to the statue. I quickly bolted to my right and let out a shot. He ducked behind the fountain as I made my way to the second statue. Rocks and pebbles were flying all around me as I tried to settle myself in the shadows. The bastard was using a silencer so I couldn’t figure out where he was. I peeked to my left and let out one more shot, only to be returned by five shots more that seemed to come from everywhere.

I ducked again while running to the next statue, shots flying everywhere. They were shooting past my face, my feet, my hands until I reached the next statue.

“Do you think you’re being smart hiding behind those statues”, he shouted, “you’re a coward David! A weak coward!”

While he was ranting and shouting I heard a soft click, then the rustling of a pocket. Instantly my body began climbing the statue.

Another click told me that he was reloaded and soon there were footsteps. Cautious, stalking footsteps.

“”I got to say David”, he said, “you really did give my life purpose, excitement.”

He was right behind the statue, making his way to the side.

“You helped me to achieve the most impossible levels of thievery”, he said, “you helped me in committing all the greatest crimes of the century! I stole all your money, I stole your wife’s life! I stole all of your life’s comforts and pleasure. Tell what other thief in history has done more then me!.”

The shadows from the street lamps had covered me in a perfect hiding place. He was right underneath me. Right under me, and he couldn’t see me. I pointed my gun.

“And now”, he said, “now I will steal your life.”

He turned his head slowly as I cocked the hammer. Too slowly. Good. I wanted to savor the moment for a while.

I wanted to feel some enjoyment standing over this man who had called himself the greatest thief, a great and mighty predator. A natural born hunter that stalked the perfect, weak prey. He claimed to be strong, yet I was the one on top. So what did that make me? I felt for a moment transcendent, accomplished, powerful. I won.

Jacob smiled as he aimed at me.

I smiled and pulled the trigger.

His head blew up like a firework, ashes of his red chunks of brain splattered across the pavement. The rain soaked his once immaculate suit in the red of his blood. I got off the statue and looked down at his face. He was still smiling, confident in what could have been his victory... Its victory.

I sighed as I looked back up to the sky. The rain had finally stopped, and I could see the reflection of red siren lights from the clouds. They were like twisted spotlights of victory, a light show of applauds to my act. My life was stolen from me, and now I stood in the puddles of nothing. Nothing but contentment. There is nothing left but this night, and this red puddle. The moon reflected in that puddle, a false moon teasing the real one. Somehow my life began to feel the same. Somewhere along the line as the police rushed towards me David had died with Jacob, and now all that is left was a hilarious reflection of me. An illusion of what I use to be. I have nothing to go back to. Nothing but this night. What will happen next, who knows. For now, that is enough for me.

Now my name is Suigetsu, and I just killed a man.


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