The Evil Rain

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        The entire time Vincent and I were there, the atmosphere had certain eeriness to it. Every now and then, it would rain. Vincent and the boy took care of the other horses while I took care of the wild one, the creepy man watched me day after day, watching me teach it things of what to do and not to do. When the man went to check on the other livestock, I would talk to the Fire Mustang and train it moves not permitted. About a week passed, the horse was partially tame and the man had never told me his name so I called him Damascus. One very stormy night, we had dinner and the boy had very little to eat. Vincent and I had plenty to munch on while Damascus had a ton of food he had eaten. After he was done, he washed off his plate, put it in the cabinet and went to his room. The house was a two story; our rooms were upstairs while the boy slept in a tiny room beneath the stairs. I felt bad for him, while we got enough to eat and he did not. I looked at my plate that still had food; I could not eat to any longer because I was full. I had to ask him if he wanted it. I got up and walked over to the small child.

        “Hey, do you would like this? I can not eat anymore of it because I am very full.” The boy was stunned and his face lit up. He did not even respond, just grabbed the plate and started to devour down all that food. I laughed, after he was done, Vincent did the same thing and the boy ate that too. I felt better that I gave something of mine away, the boy had gotten up to rinse off the plates we had used, put them up, and walked on over to his room looking sad and he always had a different look every time he had to go to his tiny room. Vincent and I had talked to each other without making a sound or even moving our mouths. I got up and went upstairs, I soon found Damascus sitting on his large bed facing away from the door, and I asked him the question of letting the little boy sleep with him.

        “Yes, he can sleep in my bed.” He sighed.  He stood up and his long lean body seemed odd, creepy, almost as if he was not normal. His long jacket and things he wore during the day was gone, even his silly fake mustache. Damascus was wearing a black tight t-shirt that you could almost see his muscles underneath and baggy black pants that dragged across the floor on the bottoms and a chain on both sides of them, his hair was black but his eye color had changed from a sky blue to a deep blue that was soothing. He was also wearing white socks to keep his feet warm. His height looked like he was 5’10” or more but he was taller than people I had seen before. He turned to me and slowly walked over to me. He looked at me, smiled the disturbing smile, grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it.

        "I know what and who you are, Crimson. Even though you thought you could hide the things you have been teaching that horse, I knew you would do it anyways. By the way, I love the color of your eyes; they are unique, beautiful, and they complement your hair." Damascus said gently almost at a whisper but still hearing his voice. He was still holding my hand, his smile did not seem as creepy as if he smiling almost normal now. “Thank you. I just thought that I could show you after I was done teaching the things to it that I could show you later after my jobs were done, y’know, as a surprise.” He started to pull me closer to him, I was soon hugging him, I had the urge to pull away from him but I did not do it. “I haven’t felt or been this close to someone in a long time.” I pulled away to look at him, he looked at me, I did not understand by what he meant. I heard faint footsteps coming our way, and I turned around, then I said, “I’m sorry, Master. I… I am not able to love you as you do for me because I am married. I don’t even like you in that way,” I turned half-way to look at him and continued, “But I would love to hear more of what you have to say for another day.” He let go of my hand, looked down, walked back to his bed facing away from the door, and sat back down, he put his hands on his head brushing his hair with his fingers. 

I started for the door, then stopped and asked, “What is your name?”

“My name is Ziva, Ziva Zigor.” He said quietly.

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