The Witch's Rain

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The witch's yellow dress almost seemed to light up an otherwise dark night. The purple clouds burst open and sobbed God's tears. This was a world like ours simply by the fact it was inhabited by humans but it was ruled by a malevolent creature known as the Other, a flabby, tentacled creature, purple as the clouds hanging overhead.

The rain never soaked the witches garb. The rain merely slid off it, clearly a sign of the witch's vanity. A hair never appeared out of place nor was her makeup ever smeared. Her red hair was placed in a bun and her slender build was a fit one. The Sky filled with the sound of gnashing teeth and screaming. Out of the sky fell a creature that was seven feet tall and walked on two legs like a man. It had a green body and a goat's head. It grabbed the witch and lifted up her dress and forced himself inside her.

''The path of the righteous ain't for you, bitch,'' the goat man said. Her cries filled the night. She was a follower of Tourette, this universe's version of the devil. It burned as it tore through her. Her tears soaked into the ground and from the soil sprang Tourette. He tossed back his powerful head and let out the mightiest of roars. He charged at the goat man and seized him by the throat and squeezed until the goat man's eyes popped out of his head and blood and brains spilled out of his head like toothpaste from a tube.

Down from the sky came the other. It hissed as it reached out a slimy tentacle, but Tourette cut through it with his mighty claws. ''You have started a war that you can't possibly win,'' The Other said.

''You have defiled a bride of Tourette,'' the might beast proclaimed. ''Retribution shall be fierce and swift. The rain turns to blood red. ''What have I done?'' laments the witch. Her ritual had conjured the two most powerful beings in the universe and now they were at war with one another. She dragged herself to a nearby cliff and dove off, crashing into the jagged rocks below.

The Other grabbed a lightning bolt and sent lightning bolt after lightning bolt crashing into Tourette's chest. Scars welted upon his chest, and he laughed a mad man's laugh. ''You're a wimp,'' Tourette growled.

Tourette avoided looking into The Other's eyes for he knew that his gaze was enough to turn anyone that held it insane. ''Why won't you meet my gaze?'' The Other said. ''Are you afraid?''

''I am no fool,'' Tourette said. ''Your gaze has driven many men to insanity and suicide.''

''Your wickedness has driven many men and women to do the same,'' The Other said.

''True,'' Tourette said. ''But you are the creator, you're supposed to be better than me. More moral and pure.''

''Right,'' The Other hissed. '"We are in opposition, does not mean that we are both not just as wicked as the other.''

''You are even more wicked than I,'' Tourette said.

''You give yourself far too little credit,'' The Other said.

''You created this entire universe and you're sending your only son to rape a lowly witch,'' Tourette said, shaking his head. ''You're petty is overwhelming. ''All these churches built in your honor and you are jealous of my brides.''

''You slither with the serpents in the pit,'' The Other said. ''You deserve nothing but to rot and wither and die.''

''I deserve to own this world and I vow that I will own it by days end,'' Tourette vowed.