As I wandered under the grey sky, my wondering mind turned over the strange events of the last week. The devil and all his angels, it had seemed, were after me. How had it started? I tried to save the girl and ended up shooting that towering monster in its black heart. My hands clenched as the picture reappeared: her there, tied down, and that thing above her, about to—but I had saved her from that.
It was over . . . and yet, it all seemed wrong. I could smell the coming of the rain. I passed another traveler speeding by, his coat hugged tight around his shoulders. He was running in the opposite direction, and I stopped and watched him hurry away.
Once he ducked into a doorway, I sighed and returned to my aimless meandering. Somewhere, thunder rolled, and I closed my eyes. The heavy fall of rain neared, a mighty cataract. In an instant, it hit me, and I turned my face up into the warm deluge.
Opening my eyes, I found a dark, crimson sky. I gasped, and so tasted the falling rain as it washed over me. Blood. It was raining blood.
Tale Told 