GLIMPSES ( A Prologue)
September 10, 2007[1]
She stood in the shadows of a stout mango tree, listening to the constant spatter of raindrops on the rough asphalt. It sounded almost musical, like the sound of a thousand tiny drums rising to a crescendo.
She loved the rain. She welcomed the dense, black clouds that blotted out the sun and covered the sky, blanketing the earth in a baleful gray mist. She reveled in the gloom that descended over the city, as it gave her a sense of freedom that could only be hers once night began to fall.
It was not yet night. It was, in fact, early afternoon, though time was hard to tell on such a dark stormy day. It had been raining since that morning, and the streets were empty of people. A few taxis sped by; drivers braving the hostile downpour, hoping to catch some stranded passenger. Even the jeepney drivers surrendered, it seemed, for only a handful were running their usual routes.
She stood in the shadows, waiting until the street was deserted. She didn’t have to wait long. Seeing no single soul in sight, she stepped out into the rain, lifting her pale face up as if to catch every raindrop.
She savored each little drop, feeling the wetness soak through her dress. She felt the cold seep into her very bones.
It was strangely cleansing, and it troubled her.
She was Amara, a Tormentor, a demon of pain. She fed on human anguish and preyed on lost, hapless mortals, driving them over the edge until they take their own lives and damn their souls to eternity in Hell. Born of darkness, her kind did not want cleansing.
So why was she feeling otherwise?
