these troubles of mine

426 15 5
                                    

chapter thirteen

Rigby was running on all fours, scampering across the mild earth with a frantic breath. The pattering rain was starting to grow harder, sticking to his fur and leaving him soaking wet. He almost slipped, his footing starting to become clumsy and uncontrolled.

After all, he deserved what he was about to do.

He turned the corner, swinging onto the road, then stopped suddenly. The roads were dark and wet, and he could barely see with the summer rain pouring down onto his surroundings. It was warm, but still he shivered as a drop trailed down his back. He ran both hands over his head, breathing in and out, and repeating this until he felt he could run again.

And so he did.

He picked up his footing and ran down the road, following the path until the rain flew into his face and the wind was starting to pick up. He was sprinting, sprinting towards the hill, the pond coming into view.

As he got closer and closer, the feelings of anger and jealousy was starting to grow stronger and stronger until it burned. Literally. Confused, the raccoon slowed his run, grabbing for his heart that pounded loudly and uneasily. He couldn't breathe. He ran his hands over his head again, gasping, wheezing, trying to search for comfort.

And yet the summer rain seemed to continue, dancing its evil dance upon his head, soaking him to the bone.

He climbed the hill slower, the emotions too much to bear. He wanted to scream. To cry. To do anything to get them out until he could never feel again.

As he reached the top, the pond came into view, and he stopped. Realization hit him harder than a truck, a bus. This is what he was scared of. This is what Mordecai wanted to do with him. His hands curled into fists, and the questioning anger bubbled in his chest. It was anger towards Mordecai, towards Margaret, towards Benson, Skips, Pops, himself. Anger towards everyone.

He was terrified of it.

He approached the pond, and bent down until he could see his reflection. The rain pelted down, however, and as he looked at the reflection, it disappeared with the pattering of rain. Ripples covered the whole pond, drops the size of blueberries.

And then, the lightning forked the sky, and Rigby sucked in a breath.

The water moved, a tide pool swirling in the center of the pond, and taking the form of a human, it seemed. The tall shadow of a man stood in the middle of the pond, the water swirling around him and barely grazing him. He hovered there, his shadow still. The lightning streaked through the trees, almost right above the two.

The rain continued.

And Rigby couldn't move. All he could think about at that moment was that this was Delliao. The demon. The one who wanted his soul.

But Rigby wasn't scared of the demon, not even the lightning that lit up the clouds and forked down to the earth.

Rigby was terrified of death.

Then, the demon stepped towards Rigby, on the water. He walked towards him until he was towering over the small raccoon, his shadow covering the earth despite that there was no sun to cast it. Rigby trembled violently.

Another streak of lightning.

The booming of thunder.

And then his eyes open, red and bulging like in his nightmare. Rigby scrambled away, screaming, and the demon cackled, his giant hand reaching out to grab him.

But Rigby was quick to dodge him. He turned, and ran down the hill on all fours, heart pounding in his ears, tears filling his vision. He was scared, and alone, and Mordecai wasn't here to comfort him. He was going to die.

He expected the demon to chase after him, but once Rigby turned, the demon was standing on the top of the hill, staring down at him. His eyes were red and big, and hard not to miss in the dark, stormy summer night. He was still.

Rigby hated it.

And then the demon stepped back, retreating into the shadows. The darkness engulfed his form, and he was gone.

Rigby screamed again, not because he was scared, because he needed to. His screams turned to sobs, and he felt the need to kick something, to attack. But instead of doing so, he collapsed on his knees, the sky growing red with his vision. He stayed there, crying quietly, until the rain started to slow and the mud that streaked his fur started to become uncomfortable.

The raccoon stood back up, shakily, and wondered why the demon didn't chase after him. He was only near the bottom of the small hill, not that hard to swoop down from. But it was still, as if the events never happened.

Rigby's heart pounded with the thunder that was beginning to fade into the distance, the clouds rolling fast.

He knew he should go back to the house. He needed to. Out here, he was just another target in the night, in the storm. But instead of going towards the house, his feet turned and he headed towards the forest. He wasn't ready to go back. Not yet. He needed to regain himself.

The small raccoon walked further along the treeline, until his legs burned and his eyes grew heavy with exhaustion. He stopped, and swayed. He padded over to a small sheltered area, a haven of bushes and undergrowth that was easy to nestle into. He laid down, and curled up, shaking and sopping wet, until his eyes began to close.

All he could think about was the demon and the kiss he shared with Mordecai.

sweet talkWhere stories live. Discover now