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Red Rain: Over 40 Bestselling Stories

Page 9

by J. R. Rain


  LUCIFER: You think?

  JIM: Yeah, I think. And I’m still not convinced that this isn’t a bad dream. Or that I’m drunk.

  Panel 3

  Jim looks around. Perhaps one wide shot, as Jim takes in his surroundings. He sees a bizarrely featureless face of one diner watching them. Another featureless creature is walking past them on the street, looking down at them. Still others are in the crowd.

  JIM: What are these things watching us?

  Lucifer waves his pale hand dismissively, ignoring them.

  LUCIFER: They are, in today’s terms, my posse. In actuality, they are my protectors, my guardians, my minions. In my physical form, the form you see before you, I can be injured. They keep me from being injured, or worse.

  Panel 4

  Tight on Jim’s eyes, as we see his hand move unconsciously toward his jacket pocket where we see the bulge of his revolver. He’s obviously thinking about using it, but doesn’t.

  JIM: So I am the best at what I do, you say. And what is it that I do?

  LUCIFER (off camera): You are an ace private investigator, or so I’m told. But most importantly you have developed a name for yourself finding missing persons.

  JIM (nearly choking): You want me to help you find someone?

  LUCIFER: As a matter of fact, yes.

  Panel 5

  The waiter brings out their food. One of the plates is filled with a raw steak, dripping blood. Lucifer’s eyes widen with pleasure.

  LUCIFER: Want a bite?

  JIM: I’ll pass.

  Panel 6

  We see Lucifer dig into the steak, blood dripping down his chin. He looks evil and ghoulish in this shot, not quite the beautiful creature we had seen earlier. Almost vampiric. Jim looks, away, coughing, keeping himself from gagging.

  PAGE ELEVEN

  Panel 1

  The waiter returns, removes the empty plate. Lucifer wipes his mouth barbarishly on his sleeve.

  JIM: How can I possibly be of use to you?

  LUCIFER: You might be surprised.

  JIM: But you have all the minions of Hell at your disposal. Look, they’re everywhere.

  Panel 2

  We do look, and see them everywhere: crouching on nearby roofs, hidden in shadows, mingled in the crowd, disguised as humans. Jim sees them now, or perhaps he is more aware of them. Still, others around him are not aware of the demonic beings in their presence.

  LUCIFER: Sometimes all the minions of Hell are not enough, Jim.

  JIM: Well, good luck with that, asshole. I’m outta here.

  Panel 3

  Jim moves to get up.

  Panel 4

  Tight on Lucifer’s face. There’s blood dripping in the corner of his mouth.

  LUCIFER: Do you love your father, Jim?

  Panel 5

  The private investigator pauses in mid-stand.

  JIM: Of course, I do. But he’s dead. As you well know.

  LUCIFER (off camera): Yes, we know him well. His torment has been sweet music to my ears.

  Panel 6

  Something flashes across Jim’s eyes. That something is hate.

  JIM: You son of a bitch—

  Panel 7

  Jim dives across the table, hands reaching for the Devil’s throat, but another creature instantly appears. A pale-faced entity who grabs Jim’s throat and hurls him back in his seat.

  PAGE TWELVE

  Panel 1

  Jim is slammed back into his seat. Those in the restaurant gape at the bizarre spectacle. The pale-faced creature disappears instantly.

  LUCIFER: None of that, Mr. Powers. You must control your emotions. Yes, it is true that your father has joined us, but if you agree to help me, I will promise you his freedom.

  JIM: His freedom? From Hell?

  LUCIFER: One person’s Hell, is another’s home. But yes, his freedom from Hell. Now, this offer is highly irregular, Jim, but I am willing to deal. I am, as you would say, desperate.

  Panel 2

  Jim frowns.

  JIM: And if I help you find this person, you will give my father his freedom?

  LUCIFER: I will personally guarantee his freedom.

  JIM: What is the catch?

  LUCIFER: There is no catch. The terms are basic: Your father is a free man, and you agree to help me.

  Panel 3

  Tight on Jim. His brain is working hard. We can see him thinking: what’s the catch here?

  JIM: I see...you give him his freedom for a minute or two and then he is returned to Hell. So, technically, you live up to your end of the deal. No, his freedom must be permanent.

  LUCIFER: I cannot guarantee his permanence from Hell, Jim. Although your father will be given a new life, his actions in his new life might warrant another, more permanent stay in Hotel Hell. But I will not return him to Hell under any circumstance.

  Panel 4

  Jim thinks long and hard about this, running a hand over his sweating face.

  JIM: And how is it that you need me?

  LUCIFER: We need your expert services, Jim.

  JIM: Expert, how?

  LUCIFER: You are skilled at finding the missing.

  JIM: Who’s missing?

  Panel 5

  LUCIFER (embarrassed): We seem to have lost track of someone.

  JIM: Lost track?

  LUCIFER: Disappeared from Hell.

  JIM (smirking): Maybe he’s in Heaven.

  LUCIFER: Very unlikely.

  Panel 6

  The waiter comes by, but Lucifer waves him off.

  JIM: So what do you want me to do?

  LUCIFER: You must find him and return him to us, in Hell.

  Panel 5

  Lucifer grins wickedly.

  LUCIFER: Don’t look so nervous, Jim. We’ll release you back into your world. Your time hasn’t come. Yet. [new bubble] Come. Let’s walk; we’re attracting a crowd.

  PAGE THIRTEEN

  Panel 1

  They step away from the milling crowd of the restaurant. Above, the demons shift and follow their leader.

  JIM: So you release my father from Hell. What does that mean, exactly? He’s dead. I watched him die on the night we were attacked.

  Panel 2

  Lucifer puts his arm around Jim’s shoulders.

  LUCIFER: Like I said, this is highly irregular, but your father will have a second chance.

  JIM: Second chance? He would live again?

  LUCIFER: Yes.

  JIM: As before, alive on this earth?

  LUCIFER: Yes.

  Panel 3

  They stop before the busy street corner. In front of them is a very bad accident scene.

  LUCIFER: Ah, trouble always seems to follow me.

  JIM (wryly): I wonder why.

  LUCIFER (turning to Jim): There is a hitch, of course, Jim.

  JIM: Now why doesn’t that surprise me?

  Panel 4

  Tight on Lucifer. In the distance we hear sirens coming for the accident. People are bleeding in the cars, clearly dead or dying.

  LUCIFER: But if you fail to find our man, or quit on me, then your soul is mine.

  JIM: No deal.

  LUCIFER: Think of your father, Jim. You have seen the visions. You know the torment he goes through. You can save him.

  Panel 5

  Jim is thinking hard. We see flashing sirens reflected in his eyes.

  JIM: So there really is a Hell?

  LUCIFER: And a Heaven, too.

  JIM: And you really have met God?

  LUCIFER: On more than one occasion. We’re tight.

  JIM: I doubt it.

  Panel 6

  Jim covers his face, runs his hands through his hair. After a long moment, he gives the Devil his answer.

  JIM: Okay, I’ll do it. For my father.

  LUCIFER: Are you sure?

  JIM: Yes.

  LUCIFER (snapping his fingers in a flash of fire): Then it is done. And it is binding. Forever.

  PAGE FOURTEEN

  Panel 1 />
  A small panel in the upper left hand corner of the page.

  JIM: So where is Hell?

  LUCIFER: Closer than you think.

  Panel 2

  The Devil suddenly steps behind Jim and covers the detective’s eyes with his pale hands.

  JIM: Hey—What are you doing?!

  LUCIFER: Just relax.

  Panel 3

  We see what Jim sees: hands covering his eyes, but the hands are opaque, a hint of transparency.

  LUCIFER: What do you know of this particular street corner, Jim?

  JIM: I work a lot of insurance accident claims for a lot of companies. Half the city’s accidents seemingly occur here. I once read that more murders and drug deals have occurred at this intersection than any other intersection in the Unites States.

  LUCIFER: Try the world, Jim.

  Panel 4

  This is the main shot on the page and should dominate the page. There should be just a hint of Lucifer’s fingers here, as Jim can actually SEE THROUGH the fingers. It’s as if Lucifer’s hands over Jim’s eyes act as a supernatural goggle.

  And now we see that this street corner is, in fact, not your typical street corner. As seen through the hands of Satan, we see that there is another, parallel world thriving side-by-side with this world. A supernatural world. A demonic world. Superimposed over the natural world, is a demonic world. The street that had once ran north and south, actually now dips down into a gigantic opening in the earth. A black maw that opens into Hell itself.

  Wicked-looking demons pouring in and out of this black opening. Some are dragging souls down into it. There’s a demonic horse and carriage charging down into the underworld, hauling its load of condemned souls. Everywhere there are demons crawling, swarming, surging.

  And it’s happening here, on this street corner, just beyond the natural world....

  PAGE FIFTEEN

  Panel 1

  Jim steps away from Lucifer, horror-stricken. With Satan’s hands removed, we’re now back in our world.

  JIM (shaken): Unbelievable....

  LUCIFER: Believe.

  Panel 2

  He turns to Satan.

  JIM: Fine. So who am I looking for?

  LUCIFER: The first person to ever escape from Hell.

  JIM: Escape from Hell?

  LUCIFER (nodding): And I want him found, Jim. I want to understand how he did it. And then, of course, I want to personally torture him.

  Panel 3

  Tight on Jim, who looks very shaken and very sick.

  JIM (weakly): And who is this person?

  Panel 4

  Tight on Lucifer. A wicked grin.

  LUCIFER: Your father, of course.

  Panel 5

  Jim’s face drops as a sick realization sets in that he has been duped by the Devil.

  Panel 6

  Jim tries speaking, but he seems at a loss for words.

  JIM: I don’t understand. You said you would give my father his freedom.

  LUCIFER: I guaranteed his freedom if you agreed to help me. In just that order.

  JIM (nodding, looks sick): And he’s free now.

  LUCIFER: And you have agreed to help. You catch on quick.

  Panel 7

  They face each other.

  JIM: And so technically you held up your end of the bargain: my father is, indeed, free.

  LUCIFER (grinning): And now you must find him.

  JIM: And if I don’t….

  LUCIFER: Your soul is mine.

  Panel 8

  Just Jim’s eye.

  JIM: But wasn’t it yours anyway?

  LUCIFER: That’s never decided until the end, Jim.

  JIM: So it’s either him or me.

  LUCIFER: Now you’re really catching on.

  JIM: And my father is out here somewhere.

  LUCIFER: Yes.

  Panel 9

  JIM: And I must take him back to Hell.

  LUCIFER: Personally.

  JIM: And if I don’t…you will drag me down with you.

  LUCIFER: And there will be no escape this time, Jim. I will personally make sure of it.

  JIM: Christ....

  Panel 10

  LUCIFER (laughing): Even he can’t help you now, I’m afraid. So which will it be, Jim? You, or your father?

  Panel 11

  Jim sets his jaw grimly, sweat pouring down his face, thinking hard....

  End of Part One

  ~~~~~

  Recently, I gave author, Steve Rollins, permission to finish “Deal With the Devil.” I think he did a great job. So, if you’d like to see how the story concludes, then check out:

  Deal With the Devil

  A Novel

  by Steve Rollins

  Available at:

  Amazon Kindle * Amazon UK

  Return to the Table of Contents

  The Back of Beyond

  He was a yuruk, a Turkish shepherd, and he was trouble.

  He and his goats were up from Lake Van as part of the autumn migration. Lucky for me, my bar sits right smack dab in the middle of their migratory route. Perhaps it’s no coincidence, then, that a sign outside my bar has a picture of a goat circled in red with a line drawn through it.

  As the evening wore on, the big yuruk had amassed a considerable bill. He also amassed a considerable amount of alcohol in his blood stream. Drunk as a skunk, I decided it was time to cut the big fellow off, and had Pascal drop off the bill at his table.

  Pascal consisted of my entire staff. I liked Pascal, even though I was fairly certain he stole from me. Considering his parents were both dead and he was raising his little sister alone, I tended to look the other way at his mild thievery.

  From behind the bar, drying glasses with a towel, I watched closely as Pascal dropped the bill off at the goat herder’s table. The goat herder promptly tore up the bill. Pascal said something—or tried to say something. In a blink of an eye, the yuruk was on his feet and swinging. Pascal, all five-foot-two inches of him, dropped to the floor in a heap.

  I have a motto in my bar: No beating my help.

  I tossed the towel over my shoulder, stepped around the zinc-topped counter, and, after three long strides, hit the yuruk as hard as I could square in the face, just under his eye. The big head snapped back violently. His sandaled feet lifted high in the air. And a moment later, he skidded to a stop on his impossibly wide shoulders.

  Certain I had broken a knuckle, I reached down and helped Pascal find his feet. The little Turk raised his hands up into knobby fists. His fists wobbled. “I can handle him, Sam bey,” he said. His voice was slurred, and he was looking toward the blank wall next to us.

  I tapped the kid’s shoulder. “Over here, Pascal.”

  He turned, lost his balance, and would have fallen if I hadn’t held him up by the nape of his neck. His nose, I saw, was a complete mess. Broken no doubt. It would need to be packed later.

  “Why did he punch you?” I asked the kid.

  “He says you charge too much for beer.”

  “I do,” I said, “but I make up for it in atmosphere. Did you tell him about the atmosphere?”

  Pascal nodded eagerly. More blood dripped free. “I tried to, Sam bey, but it’s a fairly difficult concept for a desert nomad.”

  On the floor near me, the big shepherd was unsteadily finding his feet, shaking his massive head.

  “Go get some ice, Pascal,” I said.

  “If you insist, Sam bey.”

  “I insist.”

  The kid nodded and moved erratically toward the back of the bar.

  I turned back to the yuruk. He was on his feet now, blinking his head, clearing the cobwebs. He was a foot taller than me, and a whole lot uglier. His hands, I noted, were the size of frying pans—which, for all I knew, helped in the herding of goats. More importantly, those massive hands would make for massive fists.

  Duly noted.

  And since when did goat shepherds get so damn big?

  “I accept your apology,�
� I said in Turkish, noticing I had taken a giant step backwards. “Now, will you be paying your tab in Liras or on credit? Unfortunately, I no longer take goats as they tend to eat the padding out of the bar stools and make a general mess of the place.”

  He focused his dark gaze on me. His cobwebs seemed to be gone, and now he just looked pissed. He balled his hands into fists. Damn big balls. The crowd, composed mainly of local Turks, began chanting my name. I saw money being exchanged. Appears I was the underdog.

 

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