Death Co. Re-Write IV (1)

Abotut  26,000 words down. Here's the chapter where John and Joe finally meet. Realize now that I shouldn't have picked two J names, but oh well, that's for re-writes!

1. The Man Who Fell Forever

     The crag was hotter than John expected. While it was dark inside, it did not seem to deter from the omnipresent heat of Hell. For a moment he considered ripping his suit pants into shorts, but decided against it. Can’t look stupid in front of The Devil, this is going to be a hard sell as is. The cries of a beast echoed off of the crag walls, adding a level of spooky vibes that John could have done without. Hell was a threatening prospect by itself, and John had only just come through the gate.

     He pushed forward carefully, wishing that he had thought to bring a flashlight. The crag was almost pitch dark, lit only by the dim red light reflected off of the ceiling high above. The walls were pock marked with holes, and John swore that he could hear scrabbling from within them. He kept his gun held high, despite the fact that it was just about as useful as a toy pistol. It might give one good whack before the hellish creatures in the walls were able to kill him. It was comforting to know that if he was going to be torn to shreds, at least one of the creatures would leave with a painful lump.

     Luckily for John, none of the creatures were interested in him. Occasionally they would peer out with red eyes and regard him with interest, but decided he was far too decomposed to be of any nutritional value. Twenty years of death puts off quite a stench. Tiny scraps of rock fell from high up above, making John jump. He envisioned a large demonic cat, prowling above, waiting for him to make a misstep. In reality it was nothing more than a demon on a bender who had strayed too close to the edge.

     After ten minutes of walking in the dark, a light at the end of the tunnel began to show. “Go to the light Mary Alice,” John thought aloud, and then despite it all, laughed. He had always used humor to get through tense situations in life, and it had carried over to death. The tunnel gave way to a flat ledge on the shore of a lake of fire. John could hear the beastly cries once more. They grew louder every second and he flinched for fear that the giant predatory cat had found him.

     Instead the screams were cut off by a loud splash as a body hit the lake of lava with a plume of smoke, and a breath of fire. A hand reached up from the depths, charred and curled, trying desperately to escape. John looked across the lake, and found it to be surprisingly serene for all of the death it contained. This serenity was broken once more as the screaming started up again. Once again, it was followed by a gentle plop as the man hit the lava and burned alive. It was almost rhythmic and calming.

     The path that John had been following was already at an end. The shoreline gave way to tall rock walls that climbed smooth for hundreds of feet higher than John could see. Across the lake he spotted another sign that said Just 15 more miles to Lucifer’s palace of fun. Make sure you bring a smile, and some liquor.

     Is Lucifer an alcoholic? Or did he just run out of money for his signs? John thought it was likely the latter. With most of the budget going to new methods of torture, it was conceivable that the signs had just been picked up at some tourist trap in Florida (the only place that Lucifer could actually vacation). These thoughts were cut short as the screaming began anew, only this time closer to the wall. John looked up just in time to see a terrified hippy falling from the sky, and moved deftly out of the way to avoid him.

     There was a soft squish as rather than hitting the lava, the man landed on the shore. He lay face down for some time and John thought that the impact had managed to kill him. Then the man stood, brushed blood and ash from his tie die shirt, and then looked around wildly. “They missed. Oh bless it all, they missed!” He jumped up and down, turning in a circle and then fell once more at the shock of seeing John. “Oh no, please, please don’t put me back in the pit.”

     John was tempted to mess with the man, but opted for courtesy instead. “Don’t worry, I’m not a demon. Not yet anyway. Hey, you look kind of familiar. Do I know,” The hippy cut him off.

     “You’re the one that retrieved me from the accident. Almost ten years ago now.” John shifted uncomfortably. He had never had to re-encounter a soul he had requisitioned, and didn’t know what the protocol was. It felt like running into an acquaintance that he had forgot the name of, but still wanted to be polite and friendly to.

     “So, uh, not a favorable judgment then?”

     “Yeah, no. Turns out with the atheism and all…”

     “Oh, I see.” They sat in awkward silence together. John felt bad for the man. His eyes were sunken and long lines crossed his face. Ten years of torture had clearly taken its toll, but there was still the same man beneath there somewhere. Once again he felt empathy creeping into his brain, and before he could stop it, he spoke. “I could um, help get you out of here if you wanted.”

     “Really?” The man was wide-eyed.

     “Yeah, I’m on my way to cheat death, maybe I could get you out of here too. No promises, but it’s worth a try.” Stop talking idiot. I’m already in enough trouble as it is. Oh what the hell, what’s another soul to the pile? John gave the man a weak smile, and felt surprise when the man embraced him. It was  a nice gesture, but was soured by the decomposing nature of both of their bodies. John pushed him away. “Alright, that’s enough of that. None of this means anything if I can’t find a way across that lake.”

     The man’s eyes lit up. “I think I have an idea for how we can do that.”