Rancor

What shall we dine tonight?

I remember...

You see, there might have been an even older force behind hatred. It was rancor...
So you mean...?
Rancor is what moves you.

Fast footsteps on the ground.
She ran madly, stepping on puddles made by the relentless rain. The tears flowing nervously through her cheeks, disguised by the tears that came from the sky. It was just as if the whole environment cried for her. Her voice, weakened by the screams of moments early, was lost within the agony of everlasting thunders.
It was as if they already knew. She could almost feel she already knew it, but at the moment, surviving was the most important thing, and perhaps the only thing in her mind.
Not very far behind, a weird figure walked after her. Large steps, fast-paced, though not yet running. The pale skin contrasting with the black clothing. The head, a bit declined, though not facing the ground, just positioned in a way the angry eyes could show what they truly meant. The hair covering the forehead lazily, like a beast that was conquered by the sad rain. Raindrops pounding his face, but never his eyes, as if some magic force repelled it.
The face frozen in a serious and empty expression.
And the steps went on.
Whenever she got far ahead, he would just run and maintain a close distance. Repeatedly. There was nowhere to run.
The rain, covering the closed buildings around them, raged through the night. The wind did not blow, perhaps it just observed the hunt from afar.
Once again, she had quite an advantage, a quick look over her shoulder told her. But that didn't make her calm, he would be running to catch up any soon.
Actually, even sooner.
This time, she saw his face, distorted in a mad smile, running after her. The murderous desire in his eyes paralyzed her for a while, an overwhelming vision.
As soon as she got back to her pace, he slowed a bit.
She felt it wasn't going to last any longer if it remained that way, her legs, albeit strenghtened by the adrenaline and the fear, weren't fighting much more.
A hand rose in the air.
She cried and runned as if that was all she could do.
And all of a sudden what she did was fall. Slowly, facing the muddy grass, and then going closer and closer. She didn't understand, what had just happened? Why...?
She hits the ground, the mud paints her face, her clothes. Confusion prevents her from preparing to get up again, the tears now go red.
Red...?
Facing the left, she sees it.
A stone, wet, facing her, imposing. Almost as if it made fun of her, of how easy it was to take her down. The red paint at its side slowly gets washed away by the wailing rain. She feels it.
The back of her head now explodes in pain.
Pain.
The blood paints her fingers as she touch the wound, but there's not even more will to scream...
And the steps continue, slower this time. Almost as if it appreciated every second of her despair.
She cried.
Despair was everything there was. Her questions concerning the whole meaning of it were all that could be heard. Even the thunders silenced.
Calm steps, slowly passing through a big puddle.
The questions getting louder.
And then, shoes right behind the stone.
She moved her head, looking at his face. And now, silence was everything.
The weird smile, the contorting face.
She got quiet.

He stared at the glass walls of the building. Rain painted the glass outside, making slow curves with its transparent material.
There was nothing...
Yet he stared.
Back to the workout.
And it was amidst the exercising he saw her. Her cute face was taken away by a sad expression. Not totally sad, not exactly shy, not of all seriousness. And there, while the rain slowly covered everything, she put her finger in the glass.
He stopped to just keep there staring at her. It felt strange, but mostly, it felt warm and comfortable.
And slowly moving her finger through the glass, using herself as a shield so that the raindrops wouldn't stop whatever it was that she tried to do, she hypnotized him.
The world stopped for that girl.
And the drawing on the wet glass went on.
He seriously watched it, as she had her eyes focused on her finger.
And it stopped.
She looked at him.
He looked at her.
Deep inside, something just exploded.
He ran away, without finishing the exercise, the religious practice of working out.
At the glass, the phrase "I love you" slowly got washed by the rain.
Outside, that hug slowly took away the sadness of the rain.

Om nom nom...

Let's transform all that hatred into muscles!