Summer of Rain

Samuel stood to his feet and got into Darren’s face, grabbing him by the cheek and pulling him closer.

“If I give my life for this cause, you better make damn sure that it’s worth it. Look at me,” he said as he clutched him tighter, bringing his eyes closer to his, “I didn’t lose what I lost for nothing at all. Abbaddon and Jareth will not be taken down easily. We’re all in danger of losing this fight, so you need to listen to what I tell you, understood?”

They both peered at each other, and again back at him before nodding in agreement.

“You have to lure them in. One of you has to bait them in, don’t care which. Him or you,” he said as he waved his finger at either or, “you decide. I’ll be back in a minute, I have to grab something so we’re can properly defend ourselves.”

He turned his back and walked out of the door and into a pit of darkness. Darren turned to Sophie and told her that he loved her once more, clutching her cheek bones with a gentle touch. The fall of the castle they resided in was beginning to be too much to stand. She followed him out of the doorway that Samuel had walked out of. They heard a crash and jumped backwards to brace themselves from whatever may lay ahead.

“Give me the woman or he dies!”

Being the cynical prick that Darren was, he refused and began to send verbal shots back at him.

“None of us are afraid to die for this place! Kill him if you must, but it will get you nowhere!”

The man holding Samuel up behind his back tossed him to the floor like a scrap of garbage.

“Do you mean that? I could cut his throat right now and force you to watch him bleed out. Is that something you’d be interested in seeing?”

As he stepped forward, his features became clearer. His reddish colored beard stood out from the rest of him. It went down to his chest that was draped in a red and black flannel coat. His ripped jeans and black combat boots were reminiscent of a veteran who had fought in the most recent World War. He stood over Samuel, showcasing not a semblance of fight. He reached for and grasped a hunting knife that sat inside of his belt buckle. As he removed it and placed it to his throat, the demon from her dreams appeared behind Sophie and pushed her against a nearby wall.

Abaddon stepped forth from the presence of Samuel and joined Jareth while keeping her hostage. They both snuck off with her into a back room. Darren was pinned to a wall, unable to move until Samuel got into his face again, provoking his rage.

“What did I tell you, huh?! Didn’t I tell you?! Now she’s dead because of you! YOU!”

In a fit of emotion, Darren refuted his claims with slobber and snot flying across the corridor that he was not physically chained to. Samuel paced back and forth and approached the situation with a calmer demeanor.

“Look, they put a spell on you, ok? You can break it, it can be done, but the only way to do so is if you truly believe she’s alive. The only thing to prevent her death here, in this place, is to will it not to be. Can you do that, Darren?”

He let out a bone-chilling scream before saying yes.

“Repeat after me,” Samuel instructed him, “Your power is meaningless. You do not control me. I cannot die here. I am the rightful heir.”

Darren recited these words verbatim and felt the spell being released with every passing word. The trembling of the structure finally subsided as he broke his imprisonment and Samuel knelt down in front of him, bracing him what was to come.

The room in which Sophie was being held a threatened prisoner was a torture chamber. She was placed on the table, all limbs stretched and being cranked back by the faceless Jareth. Abaddon sat in the far corner, egging him on.

The door kicked open and Darren entered first, unarmed but with a scar across his chest. Abaddon erected himself from the chair, unknowing of Samuel’s presence waiting behind Darren. As he continued forward, he laughed in his face.

Darren laughed back, and Samuel jumped out of his crouch and sent a fatal strike through his chest and out of his back. Jareth screamed incessantly to not kill his maker. “It can’t end this way,” he shouted, “do not kill him!” Abaddon dropped to the stone floor, the sword dangling from the silk clothing he wore.

As Jareth crept on his hands and knees to the body of his beloved partner, Samuel untied Sophie from the wooden contraption. The two of them stood in front of Darren, prompting Samuel to grasp the murder weapon once more. He lifted it to his eye level and watched the blood drip down the blade.

“You know, the punishment for killing another is death to myself. Once he takes his final breath, I am gone forever. I wanted you to know that I’m ok with it. I’ve been doing this for a thousand years and I’ve had enough. I want to rest now. My kingdom is yours. Treat it with care, please.”

“Can I ask you somethin’,” Darren asked with enthusiasm in his voice.

“As long as we have the time, go on.”

The trio of them looked In the direction of Abaddon and saw a remorseful Jareth, pleading with a God that would no longer exist in a matter of minutes. Abaddon gasped and fought for his final breaths as Darren asked his question.

“You said you’ve done this for a thousand years,” Samuel nodded his head yes, “so who was before you?”

“You were,” he answered as he dissolved into a cloud of blue dust that was swept out of the window. Darren grabbed Jareth by the arm and tossed him from the same opening. He screeched for about fifteen seconds before landing on the ground below that was riddled with sharp rocks and vast vegetation.

Darren and Sophie shared a smile before stepping out of the castle and heading for a walk through the same pathway from which they came. Smoke still burrowed from the mountains as they held hands and took a stroll through the park with the benches that lay on their back ends.

They kept on their way until they stumbled across a hut that was constructed from short twigs and bricks from surrounding areas. They didn’t know who it belonged to and they didn’t care. After all, this land was theirs now.

She sat Indian style and he reciprocated, leaning forward to steal a kiss before they talked about life, past and present while dissecting what had happened tonight.

“Well, there’s a lot of work to be done,” she said as she kissed his cheek with a light press. Her words triggered a summer of rain that would wash away the evil.