R-HELL Chapters 1-10

OBLIGATORY WARNING: R-HELL is for OLDER TEENS (16+) AND UP. These pages and the graphics are NOT work-safe.

R-HELL Script

This fantasy is subject to change at any time, since I'm penning this relaxing diversion first and foremost for myself. I'm shooting for an update schedule of at least a chapter a week.

Chapters 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 | 11-20 | 21-30

1. UNEXPECTED TRIP
DAY 1: 10 A.M., SANTANA

"How am I going to make next month’s payment? This isn’t going to be enough." I stared at the two paper grocery bags I had filled to the brim. When you only get a couple dollars for a book you paid forty dollars for…well, that’s a lot of forty-dollar books you have to find, and I had already sold most of them days and weeks earlier. I was down to the books that made me feel like I was selling my own body parts for food.

I plopped down onto the thin mattress on the hard floor, the mattress I had salvaged from a squeaky rollaway bed that hadn't provided much back support. So things hadn’t been going well lately, but I remained steadfastly optimistic. Hope for me was not shaped like a glitter-charged fairy in a pink dress, but rather a warty monster that came out slobbering from the deepest, most wretched piss-filled depths within and chased me out the door when I didn’t want to face the world.

I stepped out the front door hoping I wouldn’t bump into the stupid bear family who lived in the apartment above me, the ones who had bought some game program for their son so he could pound his feet over and over into my ceiling for hours on end. My books sat in a copier-paper cardboard box on a slightly rusted two-wheel luggage carrier. After jiggling the front door to check the lock, I dropped my keys next to my driver's license in a front pants pocket. A sad-looking unwashed gray car waited across the street beneath a sycamore tree whose leaves were starting to brown and dry out as the weather turned colder. I crossed the street using the sidewalk closest to the junior high and dragged the luggage carrier behind me.

When I looked to my left, there was a dark sedan where there wasn’t one before. The last thought I had before I lost consciousness was, Stupid driver was speeding in a school zone!

2. FIELD OF CLOVER
DAY 2: 10 A.M.-2 P.M., FOREST OF BEGINNINGS

There was an anthropomorphic blob hovering over above me. That didn't alarm me as much as the smell of smoke and blood on me, and my head cleared enough to make out a ruggedly handsome man with pale yellow eyes waving a calloused hand in my face. He was asking something in a language I didn’t recognize, which is unusual since I've grown up in a multicultural, multilingual environment. It wasn't unusual for my friends not just to be bilingual, but trilingual, though I myself was hopelessly monolingual.

The outdoorsman tried to get me to sit up. The ends of his gray-streaked black locks swept into my face, the rest of his hair held in place by an intricately decorated leather band wrapped across his forehead, that reminded me of an American Indian. It occured to me, Should I be getting up when I’ve been hit by a car? But there was no pain. And I wasn’t sitting in the middle of an asphalt-covered street…or a leaf-strewn sidewalk…or anywhere in the busy city of Rancho Santana. I scrambled up from the buzzing clover-filled meadow and backed away from the hunter or warrior or whatever he was, who was staring at me with curiosity and mild amusement.

Something else was wrong. While it was great my body had escaped unscathed, it had changed in a fundamental way. This couldn't be my body. I looked around, past the hunter. Where was MY body? Because this guy's body my soul had filled into was not mine. While I had never grown out of A-cups, my breasts were never this flat.

Furthermore, this heavy hanging sensation down south. No way. No. No. No. I must’ve hit my head very, VERY hard. Mr. Hunter turned his back and started to walk away as I contemplated on my navel and other things in orbit around it. I jumped to my feet instinctively and followed my would-be Good Samaritan and his tan broad back and the blade sheath that shielded it, stopping abruptly when he did.

Handsome glared over his left shoulder, slowly sliding out his sword for emphasis. He barked something. From the tone, I guessed he probably said, "Stop following me. GO BACK TO WHEREVER YOU CAME FROM!"

"I don't care what you said," I mumbled back, glaring right back at him, a little peeved because at this rate I was going to end up paying late charges on my credit card. "I’m following you anyway!" But following him was going to be a bit of a challenge. He was moving fast, still not fast enough to lose her though. Maybe he was a good guy after all.

During a short break, Mr. Hunter watched as I pulled off my burnt and bloody shirt to wipe mud off my face, later knotting the shirt-sleeves around my waist. I explained, "It might get cold later." He nodded as though he had understood, which of course he didn't, but at least we were kinda communicating.

Mr. Hunter lost me where the forest thinned out. I waved to his disappearing back and wheezed, "Bye, bye. I hate you." I followed a stream to a hollow where it pooled. At most, I probably had three to four more hours of light. The surrounding boulders would provide a windbreak. If I tied together saplings and covered the frame with grasses, I would have a hut to protect me. As for food, I would eat grass if I had to. Tiny fish darted about in the pool. If I caught some in my breeches, maybe the sun would dry them out to be packed as snacks.

Were there any human settlements nearby? Assuming other humans I met wouldn’t necessarily be friendly, I needed to make weapons. Rocks. A twig could be sharpened. It would be better than feeling totally defenseless. The self-defense course I had taken taught me a few useful maneuvers, though the most important rule my sensei or teacher had drilled into us was to avoid getting into trouble in the first place.

The gaping hole in the smoky and bloody shirt I had rinsed out was evidence of a fatal wound to its previous wearer. Goosebumps ran up my arms. I thought of my collision with the car earlier today. What were the chances I, or my body, had come out of that okay? I must be in a coma. Dreams aren't this real.

3. QUEEN REGINA (OR PRINCE REDD) WILL COME FOR YOU
DAY 1: 10 P.M., HELL-OF-THE-WORLD'S SORROWS

"He has the luck of the Shadow Queen," angrily muttered Prince Redd after he had dispatched Trance’s messenger with a quick sword stroke. His half-brother Prince Storm had escaped yet another assassination attempt. How? Who had rescued him? If Grand Heaven were involved, there would be complications.

Several soldiers had seen Prince Redd's assassin Trance stab the youngest prince through the chest with his blade. There had been a brilliant flash of light, then Storm was gone. Trance was left behind with a blade dripping with Storm’s blood. Surely Prince Storm of Grand Hell was dead.

But Prince Redd, present ruler of Hell-of-the-World’s-Sorrows—aka Hell-of-Sorrows—was not one to take chances. Demon princes were not to be killed off that easily, even if Storm was only half demon. Unless the head was severed from the body, you couldn’t be certain of death. There was no bloody head to adorn the silver platter Prince Redd had gleefully reserved for the occasion.

Since Prince Redd couldn’t very easily kill their mother Queen Regina, he had turned his focus to her heirs. The second oldest brother after Redd, Prince Thunder, was clever, vigilant, and surrounded by powerful and influential friends. Prince Thunder had already taken over the government of Hell-of-a-1000-Deaths, a greatly feared state within Grand Hell. Besides, Prince Thunder had expressed no interest in the throne of Grand Hell, though you could never be too sure.

Only recently had Prince Redd discovered that his youngest brother Prince Storm was the son of Captain Olympus of the Angeles Royale, or the Freedom Angels Royal Guard as they were sometimes called. They were elite swordsmen who protected the court of Grand Heaven, a rival kingdom on the other side of the neutral territory Purgatory. It explained why Prince Storm had been brought up away from the main family, under the pretext he had a health condition that was alleviated only by the healing hot springs of Darkvine, near Oni Mountain. Prince Storm had remained forgotten until Prince Redd had gotten rid of three other less-protected siblings.

Survival of the fittest was the law of the land. Queen Regina, also known as the Shadow Queen, had won the throne after a vicious and bloody battle with her older brother, the former king Claudius. She had been particularly sadistic and vengeful against anyone associated with him, such that the memory of that period dissuaded anyone from plotting against her. "Queen Regina will come for you if you don't behave" was a common threat not just to children but to adults as well. There is no present King of Hell as it is said Queen Regina killed and ate him. The kingdom of Grand Hell had been relatively peaceful until Prince Redd started stirring things up.

I might as well get a good workout in, since I'm obviously not going to get any sleep tonight. Trying to maintain a positive attitude in the face of adversity, Prince Redd grabbed a braided leather whip and a riding crop and headed for the dungeon.

4. REUNION
DAY 3: 3 P.M., FOREST OF BEGINNINGS

For the past three days, including today, I had managed not to get sick or to poison myself, so I faithfully stuck to my salad recipe of lettuce-like greens and blueberries, and worked on my tan until noise to my right made me reach for my spear and retreat to the boulders. Someone came into view through the trees. It was Mr. Hunter. A large gray wolf accompanied him. Its ears twitched nervously.

Something small flew out at me, which I batted into the pool with my hand. A bird? No, it was a boy in dark gray shorts who rose from the water angrily sputtering.

"Sorry." I really wasn't. "I didn't know my coma included shape-shifters. Imagine that." Batboy stopped midsentence and looked horrified. I guess Batboy doesn't understand what I'm saying any more than I understand him.

Batboy turned to Mr. Hunter for an explanation, while Wolfie transformed into a tall slim man with silver hair that dropped past his chest over a pale gray furred robe.

"Don't come any closer," I said as Wolfie cautiously approached. I took a defensive position with my puny spear, which Wolfie easily wrested away as he pulled me toward him, then down to the ground. It was so predictable. Batboy held both my wrists behind me as Wolfie kneeled down and checked my eyes and sniffed the air around me. He held my forehead between his hands, and an energy jerked my head. "That hurt!"

Wolfie smiled. "I think we can understand each other now."

"Wolfie, did you have to do that?" My head was still tingling.

"I wasn't sure it was going to work. It's surprising you call me Wolfie. Prince Storm uses that name for me, too. The same Prince Storm whose body you have possessed." Wolfie was still trying to be pleasant. "I’m Prince Storm’s bodyguard, as is Grayson here." He gestured toward Batboy. "That's Vulture. Now, what are you doing in Prince Storm’s body?" His smile was starting to fade.

"I’m sorry." I seemed to be apologizing a lot for things that really weren't my fault. "I’d give Prince Storm his body back if he asked for it." Prince Storm's body. I'm a prince. Cool.

"WHO…ARE…YOU?" thundered Wolfie. A powerful energy radiated behind his question, and its force bully-pushed me.

That made me mad. They were being unfair. "I’m Kitty, and I’m a girl stuck in a boy’s, no, PRINCE'S body," I grinned back evilly.

5. ECLIPSE
DAY 3: 7 P.M., FOREST OF BEGINNINGS

If Kitty was here, then where was Prince Storm? In Kitty's body? There was nothing to do except to protect Prince Storm's body until he returned. If they could find the body, that is.

Kitty had disappeared while they were eating dinner. Her/his body had started to gradually become transparent much to her distress, until she was no longer there. It had happened in a matter of seconds. As if she or Prince Storm's body had never existed. Grayson, aka Batboy, had already searched by air and hadn't spotted anyone or anything worth investigating.

Vulture, aka Mr. Hunter, had left to finish whatever mercenary work he had taken on. He would keep eyes and ears open for Prince Storm, which was generous of Vulture. It may have entertained Vulture that a girl was inhabiting the body of Prince Storm, the number-one target on Prince Redd's hit list. Or was Vulture lining up his next assignment? They would pay for information. Prince Redd would pay better.

Vulture could not be expected to remain mum about Prince Storm's personality change. Even if no one believed Vulture, a walking and talking Prince Storm would still be in danger. Prince Redd couldn't care less who was inside Prince Storm as long as he was dead.

"There must be some psychic and physical instability associated with the transfer of personalities," Wolfie said to Grayson. Wolfie fed twigs to the campfire, and it surged back. "Prince Storm could show up again the same way he disappeared." Normally Wolfie and Grayson could have teleported to their charge, but Kitty's presence disrupted the link.

The boyish Grayson furtively glanced around before he refilled his tin cup with an improvised blend of tea. "Will it be Prince Storm…or Kitty?"

A large sigh escaped from Wolfie, much to Grayson's surprise. "The other possibility is…Prince Storm and Kitty are dead, and the stream of time is flowing again as it should." A picture of Prince Storm's decomposing body flashed through Wolfie's mind. He frowned. "Witnesses say they saw Trance run his sword through Prince Storm. He wouldn't have missed the prince's heart. Everyone believes the prince to be dead. Kitty herself had thought she had died in her own world, the Hidden World."

"We're searching for two people then."

"In a way."

"I hope we find Prince Storm soon. He's such a wimp," said Grayson with false bravado. "I want to search one last time." Grayson's bat wings popped out.

"Save your energy. I trust you were thorough the first time, and we're not the only ones searching for him. Queen Regina has scouts hunting for her son."

"I didn't think she cared."

"She has some love for the half-prince, I would like to think. But more than that, I think the machinations of her sons entertain her."

They both fell silent. In the morning, they would resume their search. What they would find they weren't sure.

6. GOTTA HAVE A JOB IF YOU WANT TO EAT
DAY 4: 6-10 A.M., EAST JUPITER GROVE

I awoke on the outskirts of Jupiter Grove, a medium-sized city in the central region of Purgatory between Grand Heaven and Grand Hell. The River Styx ran through the middle of the city, splitting it into two sections, the east side being the less prosperous side of the tracks I would discover later. So I now knew I could teleport. I just wish the software came with a user's manual.

My stomach grumbled, motivation enough to go looking for a job. First rule for a work interview, proper attire. I "borrowed" clothes, not just from one clothesline but several so the theft wouldn't be so conspicuous. I'm sure these people were not much better off.

"HELP WANTED" said the sign in the window of Toadman’s Scrolls & Gifts. I should have continued down the road, but at the time I didn’t know any better.

"You’re from Grand Hell, aren't ya? It ain't too hard to figure out from your horns." Toadman slapped away a bead of sweat rolling down his pale green cheek. Then he wiped his puffy hands on the long dark blue apron that tied behind his flabby neck and waist. "We're seeing a lot of refugees these days."

I dropped my hand from the worn horns on my head. One more thing to get used to. "I suppose you're right, Mr. Toadman." I guessed he was the store owner. Was there a painless way to get rid of the horns? Maybe I needed to look for a hat.

As if Toadman read my mind, he said, "I've got a cap you can use. Won't hire you if you don't wear it. People don't much like demons around here. Heck, I don't like Hellions much either, but you work cheap and you work hard. And you, you're not too bad-looking." He chuckled.

The way Toadman was looking at me, I hoped Toadman's ideal woman wasn't another guy. So sexual harassment didn't stop just because you were a man. "How much will you pay me for a day's work?"

"The pay is seven scales a day. If you need a room, I have closet space you can rent upstairs for two scales."

Was Toadman leering at her? Didn't he say he didn't like Hellions? My stomach growled again. "When can I start, Mr. Toadman?"

Toadman rubbed his greasy hairless pate with self-satisfaction. "Follow me to the back." He waved to a bony gray dog with patches of fur missing. "Ash, watch the store." The dog picked itself off the floor and went to the front.

Don't step on Toadie's tail, I reminded myself, as I watched it sweep the thinly straw-covered stone floor. A curtained doorway lead to the back, a storage area half as large as the front of the store. There was a cluttered desk where Toadman did his bookkeeping.

"That's the bathroom," Toadman pointed. The entrance was to the left of a small table with two chairs. "Here’s your apron. Your cap. Your responsibility to make sure they stay clean." The apron had several spill stains on it. "What’s your name?"

"Storm. My name's Storm," I blurted out without thinking.

"Sounds like bad luck," Toadman huffed.

7. ISN'T THE FIRST DAY SUPPOSED TO BE THE HONEYMOON PERIOD?!
DAY 4: 11 A.M.-NOON, TOADMAN'S SCROLLS & GIFTS

Using Prince Storm's name wasn't a good idea since someone was trying to kill him, but it couldn't be helped now. I looked at the storage shelves of merchandise as Toadman rummaged through his desk for a pencil. The nearest shelves were filled with woven baskets, ceramic and wooden knickknacks, and against the farthest wall were cubbyholes of scrolls. Style, another of Toadman’s employees, was in the store helping a customer when Toadman and I walked back out.

Toadman snarled. "You’re late again, Sty!"

"Yeah. I had to help an old lady cross the street." The sporty redhead turned to me, the tips of his hair sweeping strong shoulders. A moment of surprise crossed his face before a customer-service smile wiped it away. "It would be a bitch to clean up the roadkill!" he recovered.

"Smart ass." Toadman motioned to Kitty. "Storm, this here's Style. He's demon tribe like you."

I had figured as much since Style was wearing a cap like mine. And was I being paranoid, or was Style staring at me with a little more interest than he should have? Was he like Toadman? Another possibility came to me. Wolfie had said Prince Redd wanted his little brother dead. Was Style one of the good guys or bad guys?

"Have we met before?" I asked him hesitantly.

"No, but you resemble somebody I know, the resemblance is uncanny, but that guy wouldn't be here,…" Style jerked his thumb at Toadman, "…working for him."

"GET YOUR BUTT BACK TO WORK!" hollered Toadman.

Style laughed, turning away to flirt with a female customer who had just walked into the store. "Welcome to Toadman's Scrolls & Gifts! Can I help you find anything?"

Toadman patted my upper arm to get my attention. "Here are the bags, Storm." He pointed to a shelf beneath the counter. "Never use a bag larger than you need. The larger bags cost me more money."

A street urchin darted into the store, then grabbed a paperweight before shooting back out. Ash took off after him barking. Toadman reached for his ax by the door.

"THIEF!" Toadman shouted in warning to passersby. The blade hit its target. A woman shrieked in horror. Actually, that woman was me.

Justice was swift in Jupiter Grove. "You're such a girl!" Toadman smacked me hard on the back on the way out to retrieve his ax.

"Looks like extra work today," said Style over my shoulder. I jumped.

8. TEMPTATION
DAY 4: 3 P.M.-NIGHT, TOADMAN'S SCROLLS & GIFTS, STYLE'S SHACK

"You look like a Hellion. The horns and all," concluded Style. "But your skin is translucent, like a Hevin's. Like angels from Grand Heaven."

"Angels? Grand Heaven?"

Style backed away a little. "Did a carriage hit you or something?"

"Something like that." Was he psychic? I concentrated on sweeping out a back corner, scaring a black spider into a crack, then I lay down some fresh straw. What a strange world. It was filled with demons, angels, shapeshifters, and toadmen.

"Do you need a place to stay for the night? The floor at my place is free." Style casually pulled out a scroll and placed it in an adjacent cubbyhole where it belonged.

I blinked. Things were starting to look up. A job and a place to stay. "Sure. That sounds like a good deal." I picked up my sweeping.

The day went by fast. Style locked up the store a little after the sun went down. When we were outside the store, I probably stared a little too intently at the street lighting. "Haven't you seen flower lanterns before?"

"Sure. Sure I have," I said not very convincingly. I was mesmerized by the gentle glow of the natural bulbous lanterns from atop roofs, balconies, and posts, lights that were becoming noticeably brighter as evening turned to night. The green of their leafy vines were also deepening to dark purplish hues. "They're so pretty." Style gave me a look that said maybe he was having second thoughts about his crash space offer. "Well, they are," I insisted.

Many more demons could be seen as we strolled deeper into the worse neighborhoods of East Jupiter Grove. Demons horns it turns out vary in number and shape. You could have one, two, as many as three horns. Mine were inconspicuous compared to the antlers on some. You'd think a prince would have a grand and stately pair.

One of the street ladies grabbed me by the arm. "C’mon, honey. Relax with me. I'll be better company than him." She winked at Style.

"Uh, no thanks" I said as Style tugged me back hard.

"This one’s mine," said Style as he bussed me on the lips.

"Style, I didn't know you swung both ways." She pushed me out of the way as she cuddled Style, and I thought she tucked a note into his back pocket. Style slipped her some tongue, while I took advantage of the opportunity to survey what was around me, which wasn't much except for drunk-or-punk demons.

"Let's go!" Style grabbed my hand and dragged me behind him, down the street, a few dark alleys, until we reached a shack, one in a sea of many, along a huge garbage dump. The smell could have been worse. I would get used to it. Having a place to sleep with someone I could call a friend was more important. Style unlocked and pushed open the door.

Several small straw mats and a rescued piece of carpet covered the floor. There was a makeshift table consisting of a broad wooden board on top of bricks capped by a warmly glowing plant lantern. A single high window next to the door rattled in the wind. Almost like home. Style offered a throw pillow and thin blanket and set them down next to another set on the mats. I went to sleep almost immediately. Meanwhile, Style read the note slipped to him by the woman who had grabbed me earlier. At one point, I felt Style gently stroke my cheek and brush some hair out of my face, but otherwise he left me alone. I hoped my snoring wouldn't bother him too much.

9. LOOKING OUT FOR STYLE
DAY 5: 6 A.M.-3 P.M., STYLE'S SHACK, TOADMAN'S SCROLLS & GIFTS

The early morning sun trickling through the window awoke me. I looked over at Style who was still dreaming. His hair looked auburn in the dark. He was a handsome and athletic man, a guy who you would want on your soccer team. Style opened his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping after all, only pretending.

"Awake already? We don't have to go to work for some time." Style glanced over at the lantern whose dark leafy vine was taking on a shade of orange from purple. Before I knew it, he pulled me over to his side where the shadows were stronger. "Your hands are so cold. No wonder you can't sleep." He spooned my back, and his vigorous warmth chased away my anxiety from being a stranger in a foreign land.

Later, as we walked to work, Style chattered about the shops we were passing. Breakfast was a cup of carrot juice and a shared loaf of freshly made walnut bread. At one point, Style stopped and looked at me with concern, "Hey, are you there, Storm?"

"Wha...?"

"That’s what I mean. I bet you didn’t hear anything I said."

He was right. I hadn't been paying attention, distracted by a dreamy fragment of Storm's memories that had filtered through my consciousness, of a similar visit through town with Wolfie and Grayson. Also, I hadn't forgotten about Prince Redd. Was I in any danger in Purgatory? I changed topics. "Do you think Toadman will keep me on? The store doesn't seem busy enough to support another employee."

"He didn’t fire you yesterday."

Toadman greeted both of us at the front of the store. Apparently another fool had tried to shoplift. Scavengers were dragging the body away. Good. Mop-up wasn't a particularly great way to start the day.

"On time today, are we? Storm, you're a good boy. Open your hand." He dropped seven copper coins for yesterday's work into her palm. "Don't let Sty rub off too much on you."

Eventually, I asked Style where I could rent a room, though I would have liked to have stayed with style. Toadman's closet was not an option. The reason for renting elsewhere was so I didn’t endanger Style if Prince Redd's reach extended to Jupiter Grove. Best not to take chances. Prince Storm had apparently lost one life, or at least his body, and I wasn't sure how many lives were left over, but I was going to play it safe.

Style acted hurt. "Stay with me, darling. It’s not a problem. If you’re going to give anyone money, give it to me."

"No, no, it’s not that." I frowned at the thought of scavengers carting away Style’s body. Life seemed cheap in Jupiter Grove.

"Why then? Is there a wanted poster with your name on it?"

"Could be." I set down a figurine I had been wiping for dust and looked toward the street. Style moved to block my view.

"I admit that living near a dump isn't ideal. Don't blame you for not wanting to stay with me. Look, I've got a friend who owes me a favor. Perhaps he could put you up. In fact, I'm supposed to meet him later. I'll introduce you two."

10. DON'T CALL ME RAINBOW
DAY 5: 6 P.M.-NIGHT

"Rain. I thought we weren’t going to meet until later," Style said a bit annoyed, as Rain and his solemn lieutenant Julio unexpectedly cut them off in an alley.

The auburn ponytailed Julio spoke for his boss. "We changed our minds."

I instinctively moved to the side and behind Style, with one hand at the small of his back. Rain and Julio were giants in gray-brown boots and capes. They projected an aura of strength, power, and intimidation, not friendly at all. Though it didn't bother Style much, I was getting increasingly anxious, especially when Rain ignored Style to stare down at me, his strangely glowing violet eyes piercing through a wall of dark blond bangs.

Style shrugged. "Okay. Storm, say hi to Rain and Julio." But I had already started running in the opposite direction. "STORM! STO-O-ORM! He must've got cold …." Rain and Julio were already dashing past him. Out of earshot Style muttered, "Prince Rainbow, you act more like a Prince of Hell than a Prince of Heaven." Style followed after them.

They reached a crowded intersection filled with the delicious smells and quarrelsome noise of a night market. Vendors hawked hats, bags, pots and pans, and snack food like salted pretzels, fried crickets, and anteater tacos. Cool breezes shifted the curls of Rain's pale bangs out of his eyes as they raked the scene from left to right. "Maybe we turned on the star power a little too much," said Julio to Rain.

Style gave them both a look. "You think?"

"We were supposed to be meeting one of the Princes of Hell. That wasn't the reaction I was expecting." Rain paused and decided to say no more about that. "Let's split up and meet back at my place at eight, with or without Storm." As the towering Rain strolled down the left side of the street, people moved out of his way, almost subconsciously sensing a great white shark in feeding mode in their midst.

"If either of you find him first, our rabbit will die of fright." said Style looking up at Julio.

"Then you better find him before I do." An inconvenienced Julio made his way down a lane of carts to the right, people parting for him as they had for his boss Rain.

In a shadowed, littered corner of a building's entranceway, down a narrow alley, tucked away between buildings, I quaked, my nerves overwhelmed. Must be before my period, I thought. I should be more in control of myself. PMS sucks. Never mind I was in a guy's body. "I want to go home." A tear started down my cheek, followed by a flood. I almost missed the approaching footsteps that were not a part of the traffic of the adjacent night marketk. I caught myself mid-sob.

Too late. To my horror, it was Rain, like he knew all the time where I was. Sensing my fright, he didn't try to get closer, but squatted down a little more than a yard away. My back tried to press through the wall behind me.

"Hungry?" He pulled out a bread roll from a paper bag.

That was unexpected. My attention narrowed to the bread roll. I almost forgot about Rain. The smell of the bread made my mouth water. Glancing at him, I could see that his eyes were completely tucked away behind his bangs. He didn't seem as threatening with his eyes hidden.

"Here. Take it. It's still warm." His resonant voice was calm and soothing.

Against my better judgment, I got up, reached for the roll, and tugged it out of his fingers. His intense eyes were now starting to peek out, making me shudder involuntarily. But back to the roll, it was warm and inviting and seemed a little on the salty side. I wondered if I could squeeze past Rain's large frame into the alley. I thrust my hand out for another roll.

The corners of Rain's mouth turned up subtly. He slowly stood up and took a few steps back into the alley. He reached into the bag and brought out another roll.

Ah, was this a trap? For a second, I thought maybe I could grab the roll and make a run for it. No, I mustn't be greedy. I would fake him out instead, that I wanted the roll, to take him off guard. I leaned against the wall unsteadily and blinked several times to try to clear my blurring vision.

Rain quickly stepped over and caught me. "You cheated," I slurred. Bundled in the arms of a giant, I felt inexplicably safe, always and forever, whereas when I had first looked into Rain's eyes I had seen only the cold void of my grave.