The rain descended slowly.. the beating of the rainwater against the muddy ground of past failed crops continued to beat into his eardrums. The lightning that flashed lightened the redness of his eyes, the emerald spark in his optics seemed to cease. His head turned to the side, and all he could do was admire the locks of chestnut hair.
Oh how beautiful... oh, so, beautiful. Solo-mon spears of light descended from the admiring crescent moon-ball hanging down from the dawn-touched yonder, sprinkled with stars that pumped its light from light-years away. The curved, vermilion-colored lips taunted him. He could simply reach out, and touch them. There they were, teasing him.
She was fair-skinned. A goddess projecting half of its image throughout the limited body of a human's small bodily structure. The straightened hair of chestnut brought out the sparkling oculars of.. green. The mint dress she wore wavered at the bottom through the angered winds.
The lights of the city flashed from the window of the high-standing mansion. The lights expanding from the caelum could barely find him, no, not him, someone so unworthy of it. But they could find her. The face that he could stare at forever, and stand still as he admired it.
Sirens wailed throughout the vicinity. His eyebrows raised slowly, and he shook his head. His right hand reached for her face, but his fingers were only grasped within her own.
"Go, David." Is all she could say. She knew her lover had business to handle.
His hand grasped her own and gave it a tight squeeze, before the window before him was opened.
As he descended from the high building, the emerald tie untucked from the gray suit and wavered through the angered winds. He pushed back, fists clenched. The windows behind him shattered the awakening of the newfound emanated speed, unseen by man. He shot like a bullet of light through the city, shattering concrete underneath him, and glass from miles away.
His arms were kept at his side, and he moved outward with all the speed he could. Maybe, just maybe. . .He could go back to his home, his beloved, and continue the nice evening that was set for them. But, no, no, he had no time to think about the champagne they would share -- the ring at the bottom of the shining glass, the gasp, and then the answer. . . yes, no?
Flames and impact engulfed him more than the realization he had come to -- he had taken his mind off where he was flying to. His reflexes failed him, and his balance was torn asunder as he descended, equilibrium broken, along with the ground underneath him as he landed, caving it in.
"Grundy, SMASH."
Green sparks broke from his arms as he rose into the air and ascended. No mercy shown. The rainwater moved against his face and blinded him, but his fist broke through the illusions of the blinded eye, and met with the gray lug's own. The bullets only angered him more, to the point where Drifter was brought onto his knee.
The flesh on the cheek ascended and bubbled as he was knocked back with another clean swat of the hand. The spittle and crimson-red substances that spiraled through the air like light beams hit the ground, along with Drifter's head and back.
"No.." The muffled sound broke through Grundy's hand that covered his mouth. An emerald beam of light broke free from his palm and began to charge. An explosion occurred. A wave of unknown energies flipped the ground about, sending the hunks of metal with their sirens still wailing flipping through the air, with lively inhabitants inside.
Another smash. Brone-breaking impact splattered like blood, waving as an invisible energy through his whole body. The wave of emerald energy had done nothing but tear the clothing of the brute. Another smash. And another. The gray in front of him blurred, and all he could hear was the faintest little sound.. what was it?
David. . . David . . . David . . .
His heart pumped with life, and energy rushed through his veins. The oyster-white teeth gritted, and he ascended, lifting off his buck-strong heels. His hands positioned with the phalanx upon the creature's sides. A toss, throwing him but an inch. He pulsed onward, the green energies expanded as a sphere around his fist.
Time seemed to stop after his fist made contact with something. Solomon Grundy. Sure to fall with impact. He could feel the blood trickling down his arm. The cold substance moved to cover the blue of his throbbing veins. He almost smiled.. bloodlust lived in him. But he could sense it. His beloved's eyes were on him. Probably smiling because he had just won the fight.
And then, he could finally propose. The dust and pieces of debris fell from his eyes, blurs covered the area for seconds, before his eyelids lifted to reveal the emerald spark . . . that reflected her in her worst moment. His whole right arm had pulsed through her stomach -- he could even feel her entrails around his elbow.
The emerald and obsidian hair of David drooped down as his chin rose along with his eyes. Elizabeth's face turned, cold. Beautified fingernails with tips of ice-cold phalanx touched his cheek, her mouth open, face hit with her own red substance. His head shook in disbelief, the blow delt to his body was harder than any superhuman or god could hit.
"Yes.. David. I will marry you."
"Elizabeth.. ELIZABETH!" Blood splattered out, trafficking the guts that were now spilling out of her stomach. He could see her widened eyes, and her mouth was opened wider than she ever had opened it.
"ELIZABETH!"
She fell onto the front of his left arm, his torn sleeve glissaded down his bloody limb. His head shook, thousands of times.
"No, no, no." His eyes squinted down at her. His skin turned cold as did his newly-hardened heart.
She was gone.
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Drifter stared out at the picture held in his right hand. 1953, Chicago, Illinois. The blood stain still remained on the female's face in the gray picture, and he clenched it as he descended into the ground, only to lift his arms so his cloak could open. He flew, following the same sirens..