Chocolate or Vanilla?

It had just begun to rain in a dimly lit street, a short distance away from the city's center. A well-off looking couple was walking under a hefty umbrella when they heard someone address them from behind. They had neither seen nor heard anyone in the vicinity since they came here. That meant that either the person had been waiting for them, or he snuck into the alleyway when both of them were distracted by each other.

John turned around when he heard the voice, however he couldn't see much due to the combination of poor lighting and the rain, which was continuously getting heavier. Unable to pinpoint where the sound had come from, he turned back and continued walking.

He kept a calm expression on his face, however walked just a little bit faster, just a little bit closer to his wife. "Come on, let's keep walking. It's probably just some drunk hobo trying to pick a fight." The duo had barely taken three steps when they heard the voice once more, but this time, it was louder.

"You're going to wish that I was just a drunkard once I'm done with you." He spoke with no nonchalance, as though he was simply commenting on the weather instead of making threat.

John twisted back, but he still could not locate where the voice had originated from. He tried to look, but all he could see was a fiery orange wall of rain, illuminated by the dull streetlamp. In the distance, he could barely make out the outline of the buildings that surrounded them, but that was all.

The worried look returned on Ann's face, but this time, she didn't make any effort to hide it. "Come on, he's just trying to rile you up." She looked back towards an alleyway a few feet to her right but she couldn't see anything. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the direction of their car, away from the dark, ominous alley.

He looked at wife, before scanning his surroundings one more time, ensuring that he could not see anyone around them, He noticed the concern on her face and couldn't help but feel warm and fuzzy. Out of all her possible options, this goddess of a woman had chosen to love him. Thanking his fortune for her presence in her life once more, he obliged, and let her guide him away from whoever was trying to bother them.

His daydream was abruptly interrupted by the voice once more. "You think she really cares about you?"

The couple froze in their footsteps, and Ann's grip on John's hand tightened. She didn't turn around, refusing to acknowledge the statement.

Ann tugged on his hand as she tried encourage him to keep walking. "John, come on." She tried to convince him to move but the latter held his position as though his feet were fused to the ground.

The voice spoke up again, "That sl*t just wants your money, nothing else, just like me."

When she turned her head to look behind her, she could vaguely make out the silhouette of a hefty man taking his time as he slowly made his way out of the alley. He had a long, thin rod in his hand, and from the way he carried it, it didn't seem to made out of anything light.

"Just give me all your money and I'll leave you alone, unless of course, you like spending a night with every person who wants your money." He tapped the metal rod on the pavement as he spoke. "I promise I'll go easy on you, if this is your first time, that is. The h*e beside you can join us too. I'm sure it'll be fun for the whole family."

John's eyes hardened, his muscles tensing up. Ann tried to hold him back, but he wrested his hand out of her grasp. He slowly turned around, his face menacingly cold. "Don't. You. Dare." He paused, and looked up towards the silhouette. "Say anything about my wife." He jumped towards the dark outline, rage making his blood boil and abandon all common sense.

Ann stumbled forward a couple of steps in shock, one arm outstretched, the other still holding onto the umbrella. She clutched her umbrella with both hands, and let out a scream. "John!"

She called out, but for the first time, he couldn't hear her. All he could think about was his wish to kill the man who stood in front of him. Who was he to judge the character of others? How dare that man attempt to disrespect his wife?

The aggressor's heavy build towered over John's lean, 5'10'' frame, but the latter still attacked with all his might. The former smirked and raised the rod like a bat, aiming for the head. He timed his movements with precision and waited for John to come a little closer. He watched his moves as the other man ran through the rain. Finally, just as he was beginning to see his facial expressions with clarity, he swung.

It was perfectly timed, and if John had attacked blindly, he most likely would have been on the ground by now. Fortunately for him, Ann's call had snapped him out of his crazy bloodlust. Although he was still enraged, he managed to just barely control his emotions so that he could effectively fight his offender. After all, he wasn't going to let all of those self defense classes go to waste now that he finally had the chance to use them.

He quickly ducked and used a combination of his momentum and the element of surprise to tackle the man to the ground. Now that he was above him, he had the advantage, regardless of the other man's build.

Before the other man had the opportunity to gather his bearings, he punched his jaw with his right arm as hard as he could and although he did not succeed in dislocating it, a tooth and mouthful of spit shot out of his mouth. "That was for calling her a sl*t!" Spit flew out of his mouth as he shouted as loud as he could.

"And this is for implying that she's just another gold digger." His wedding band glinted in the dim lighting as he threw a punch with his left hand, leaving a deep laceration across his cheek.

The hunter had become the hunted, and he had no time to go on the offensive. The heavy man was completely on the defensive, trying to protect his face from the constant blows it was receiving.

John pinned the him down with his hands, and extended his leg. "And this is for that sexual comment I won't degrade myself to repeat." He kneed the man's crotch, forcing him to let out an agonizing groan.

Ann watched from a distance as John continued to punch the man's face, unable to move from where she was. Something was wrong, why wasn't the other man fighting back? Then, she noticed his hand feeling the ground around him, as if searching for something. Something caught her attention, and her eyes widened. The rod.

She tried to call out, but found that she couldn't use her voice. Time seemed to slow as she watched the man raise the object behind John's head. She extended her arm in a silent cry, unable to do anything more.

Suddenly, John felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. The man pushed him off and he fell to the ground with a splash. He held his head with both of his hands as he curled up into fetal position.

The mugger staggered as he stood up, but he managed to steady himself. He gingerly traced the cut along his cheekbone, from his right ear to the top of his lip, before looking at the man lying at his feet with disdain. "Pathetic." He kicked his abdomen, and turned to stare at Ann.

She took a step back when she looked at John writhing in agony on the floor. Here she was, still in perfect condition, not a drop of rain on her as she stood under her umbrella as John took a beating for her sake.

"Thanks for the help." She looked back at the man when he sarcastically made a comment. Blood was oozing down his face and it had already begun to swell in certain spots, making for an ugly sight. She tried to look directly at him, but quickly broke eye contact, and looked at pavement instead. Tears began to fall down her face, joining the puddle of rain that had formed around her feet.

Gradually, the ringing in John's ears subsided and was replaced by the roar of the rain hitting the ground. He tried to look up, ignoring the agony he was currently going through. It seemed like the man was saying something to Ann, and her discomfort at his words was obvious. Could it be that he still had not learned his lesson?

John struggled to get up, but he finally managed to do so solely due to his willpower. As long as he could move, he wouldn't let anyone talk to his wife like that. He knew that he couldn't build up the speed to effectively tackle him again, so he decided to try to take the rod instead. As long as he was the one holding the weapon, it would give if some sort of advantage.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the attack. The only thing he had in his favour right now was the element of surprise. If he messed up when trying to take the rod, he probably wouldn't be able to get up again, let alone have another chance to retaliate.

Having calculated everything, he lunged for the rod, using his shoulder to push the man off balance. It wasn't strong enough to push him to the ground like it did last time, but John managed to take the rod.

Not wasting a second, he spun around for momentum, and aimed for the back of the man's knees. Although he was still furious, he wasn't stupid. He want to kill the guy, so he made sure not to aim for his head, just in case. The last thing he wanted was to deal with court and have to do paperwork for manslaughter. Anyways, the tag 'murderer' would be bad for his business.

With the man on his knees, he beat his spine with the rod. Although he wouldn't kill the guy, he deserved to be paralyzed waist down after whatever he said to Ann.

Having seen the scene take place before her, Ann had no idea what to do. Regardless of what she wanted to believe, what the man had said to her while John was down was true. That being said, she realized that she truly did love him, and couldn't simply deny the fact.

She ran towards the two, but stopped midway. What would she do once she got there? She was still conflicted, but the luxury of time was running out. She had to make a decision, and she had to make it fast.

Wind caught the umbrella, and pulled her away from the scene, as if nature itself wanted to spare her from making the decision. For moment, she was about to let it guide her away, but then she stopped. She wouldn't let others control her life anymore. She had to make her own decisions.

With one swift movement, she closed the umbrella and felt the rain for the first time. The cold drops seemed to be assaulting her face, attacking her for going against the will of nature. It stung as hit her delicate face, and she could only imagine how much it hurt the other two's wounds.

She took exactly three and a half steps before stopping once more. Although she had decided that she was going to make a decision, she herself didn't know what that decision was going to be. Of the two options that she had, neither of them appealed to her.

Suddenly, she had a flashback to earlier that day when she didn't know which flavour of ice cream to pick. Back then, she didn't waste her time contemplating the merits of each flavour. Instead, she had walked in, and chose the first one that came to mind, knowing that her brain would make the decision for her.

Deciding to use the same principal in this scenario, Ann walked forward, the rapid firing of the rain hitting the ground masking the sound of her heels clicking on the pavement. She raised the umbrella over her head, and swung it down with as much force as she could muster, aiming directly at his head. A direct hit.

Just then, she remembered. She had regretted the flavour ice cream she had chosen.