Bloody Rain

Bloody Rain

A Story by Zachary Cothren
"

The world is hell already, so why not plunge it deeper into the fires.

"

Bloody Rain

 

It is raining. It is always raining in this town. Rain is the only constant companion anyone has in this damned city. Now though the city is really damned after tonight the city is going to be so far down the s**t hole that they are going to need a wet suit to find it. The window is being rained on, and the wind is coming from the direction of the chemical plants giving them the foggy corrosive quality only good old fashion chems can give rain. It was the chems that started it all, those things got inside us, got inside everyone, got inside me. First it rotted us away from the inside out then it took over this city.

Even now I can feel that chem I had with dinner going through my vains. What was it called? Oh yeah Arousal+, and that was another thing the chems took away from us, it took away creativity. By next week the chems are going to be gone, along with all the humans. I patted the case by my side, smooth leather caressing my fingers as I drug them across it’s surface. Then I gripped it tightly as the gravity of the situation drug me back down into depression.

This room is just another sign of how the chems are killing us, rotting us. I did not always live in a room like this, with a moth eaten mattress and a grimly little window. I used to have a nice house and a nice job. Now the job is designing chems, and the house is what my wife took from me in the divorce. It wasn’t like she wasn’t on the chems to, bloody hypocrite!

This apartment closes in around me at night, the darkness simply can not be chased away by the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling, it’s light dirty, distorted. The grimy light didn’t get rid of darkness; it simply helped the distinction between light and shadows.

There was a knock, I wrenched his eyes away from the window, the rain had consumed his thoughts, it was easy to do that while on the chems. Simple things would destroy your thoughts, the chems were like plows plowing into the soft soil of someone’s mind, making it vulnerable, and like the great dust bowl of times past the thousands of fields tended forcefully by the farmed began to blow away. Peoples minds began to blow away.

“It’s unlocked.” I rasped at the door, that’s all I could manage now was a rasp, that is one of the things the cheap brand of chems I bought did. They make you vocal cords red and raw because you had to ingest these. Not like the fancy chem injections the rich could afford.

A man opened the door slowly, making the hinges creak theatrically. That was the kind of man he was. He liked theatrics, he liked drama, this was all a game to him, just another stage for him to walk, to have the glaring illumination of the spot lights push down on him and draw everyone’s attention to him. He didn’t need chems he fed off a different high the high of attention.

“Hello Gregory.” He said as he entered the room. He showed again the part of him that loved theatrics; he was wearing a pinstripe suit, with matching tie and hat. The hat covered a head of sandy blond hair. Cut fairly short, just long enough to play around his ear and fall over his forehead. His features were sharp, with a long nose and slim jaw line. He would have even been attractive, very attractive to the young ladies, except for one thing. His eyes, his eyes bore into you with their piercing electric blue. His eyes went beyond the bad guy facade many young men put on in order to attract the girls, the were truly terrifying eyes, the eyes of a mad man.

“Just get this over with Sam.” Sam Herrick was his name. A name that did not mean anything, but within a few days it would control the world, under his thumb would be the entirety of every chem addicted citizen. I shuddered slightly at this. A upwards of ninety eight percent of the population used chems, and above ninety three percent were addicted hopelessly.

“Oh but that wouldn’t be fun Gregory. This world is about to burn; this is a pivotal moment in that burning. You are about to hand me the lit match that will set fire to the powdered keg we call a society.”  He started laughing at this, enjoying some sick humor that was lost to me. He cupped his face in his hands as he continued to laugh. It grew manic, deranged. His hat fell to the ground as he began to run his fingers through his hair.

“Ok, so in that case is where is it is. Correct?” He said still suppressing a giggle that escaped his lips from time to time. He did not like saying it’s name. I think he found it more ominous that way. It was the formula, for a simple bonding agent. A bonding agent that had been within the chems from the beginning. It was used to help kick the brains pleasure receptors into overdrive. It could be modified, and that was what Sam was going to do. He was going to turn the chems into a obedience serum. As soon as you took one your mind would turn to putty, putty for Sam to mold.

“Yes.” I said. It was the only thing to do. Sam was offering me a nice life after he took over. He was offering me a country, somewhere in the New African Republic. It would be my land, my home and I would be able to stop living life in this hell hole.

“Oh excellent! Excellent! So much to do so much to do.” I had no idea how Sam would be able to sneak the new formula into the plants, but I knew he would be able to. He had probably been planning this ever since he was a child. That was the kind of person he was. Screwed up from the start.

“Just leave.” I said to him. He looked at me slightly disappointed. It had never occurred to him that I did not share his goal for purely idealistic reason and the country was just a bonus. He walked over outstretching his hands. I handed him the case, the key to destruction.

“Goodbye Mr. Gregory. You will be hearing from me shortly.” He walked out of the room again shutting the door slowly to increase the drama. The rain had be continuing throughout the whole conversation. It pattered against the window, and I slow laid down on my bare mattress and began to cry the sky cried with me and painted the window with it’s tears.

 

 


© 2010 Zachary Cothren



Author's Note

Zachary Cothren
please ignore spelling/grammar mistakes, and if you want you can inform me about them in your comments.

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Reviews

I love rain, so immediately the title drew me in. I'm glad it did.

Posted 7 Years Ago


Incredible. The first paragraph sounds like Seattle.

Posted 7 Years Ago


i think it kinda reflexs on our lives, somewhat. not in the same form, but there is a simarity. cars, computers, electricity, some of us need to use everyday. somepeople are addicted to it. surveys even show that people cant survive a week without some of these things.. chems are kinda the same in major and tragic way.. great ideas, really nice write. :)

Posted 7 Years Ago


Amazing story. Very dark and disturbing.

Posted 7 Years Ago


Disturbing, but some of the best writing is disturbing. I liked it, and the screwed up from the start line was classic.

Posted 7 Years Ago


Disturbing indeed... a world made up of chem junkies... nice plot!!

'He had probably been planning this ever since he was a child. That was the kind of person he was. Screwed up from the start.'

I like this line!!

Posted 7 Years Ago


So cool! I'm one of those people who, although it doesn't seem like it, like the kind of sick twisted thoughts like these. How the world would be taken over by God knows what. I really like stories about when the world falls to radioactive wastes or it was blown up by a nuclear weapon. I really liked your story though because, some people might not understand it true meaning, but i did. I loved the detail you put into this peice, especialy in the discription of Sam. Very good write.

Posted 7 Years Ago



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Added on April 5, 2010
Last Updated on April 6, 2010
Tags: world, ruin, ruined, destroyed, scociety

Author

Zachary Cothren
Zachary Cothren

Tracy, CA



About
'Hey, I am a student who, in the past, really enjoyed thinking of stories, but that was all. For a long time I only thought of them - none made the arduous journey from my brain onto paper. I am final.. more..

Writing



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