Chapter 19: The Devils Vinyl Part 3

AN: 2 chapters in one day... Wow.

We are back at Ian's mansion. It is night. Jasmine silently creeps down the hall, still carrying her backpack and wearing gloves. She enters a home study adorned with framed gold records and filled with recording equipment. She pulls a step stool to a set of shelves, then fishes the acetate from her pack, standing on tippy toes so she can hide it on the very top shelf –

"Why not try to destroy it?" Ray asked.

"I could burn it..." Mick zoned out for a second, hand moving to where he usually kept his gun.

"Mom?" Jasmine spins. Her daughter, Julilah (10), stands in the door. Jasmine steps down, stripping off her gloves. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, I just –" Jasmine pauses before deflecting the question, "Why are you up?"

"Deflection."

"I had a nightmare. Someone was trying to take you away from me. You were screaming –"

Carter frowned, being one of the few audience members to have had a kid and knew they were curious, and muttered "Foreshadowing."

"I'm not going anywhere, Julilah."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Sara said, mind going to her absent mother who had left her and her family years ago.

As Jasmine approaches and hugs her, Julilah stiffens, "Mom, look behind you."

It is still night as John and Zed stand before a bored, battle axed duty nurse, "Hi, we're here to see Marcus Mooney." John tells her. He speaks with a southern accent instead of his usual.

"Not gonna lie, I almost didn't realize it was you." Ray noted.

"Visiting hours are over."

"Something tells me that won't stop you."

"Why would it?"

Constantine flashes the Nurse a 9 of diamonds playing card, "Health and Human Services. I'm sure you can make an exception."

The Duty Nurse looks and sees in John's hand: A HEA John's hand: a health and human services I.D. CARD. She waves them through. As they walk past. "That's a neat trick." Zed mentions.

"Psychic paper."

"Ray! This is not the time!"

"There's always time for Dr Who references..."

"Not a trick. Magick. And not the Copperfield kind. The card's charmed. It has a pretty bloody back story, but the gist is; it takes on the appearance of whatever its holder requires. In this case, the I.D. of a loyal servant of the American Government."

"Where can I get one?" Snart asked. It would be useful for many a heist...

"Where can I get one?"

John smiles. As if. They enter the room Marcus resides in. He is on last legs, hooked up to monitors, breathing through an oxygen tube in his nose. As John and Zed enter, he seems to sense them, his eyes fluttering open. "Who are you?" he wheezes.

Zed moves to Marcus' side, gently taking his hand in her own. "Friends, if you'll have us."

"You seem like a friend. That one has a shadow dogging his soul."

"That's putting it lightly."

"More than one, Marcus. I'm John Constantine. Don't expect you to remember me from back in the day, but I need some help. I came to ask about the acetate"
Marcus is horrified, "Don't tell me you played it!"

"If I played it, how would I be asking him about it?"

"No. But a friend of mine might've. And now he's dead. Can you shed some light on the matter?"

"I'm so tired. Been carrying this burden for so long."

"Give us the weight, then." Zed whispers gently. She smiles and softly squeezes his hand. John studies studies Zed, grudgingly impressed with her ability to put people at ease.

"You ever hear of Willie Cole?"

"Memphis bluesman. Burned bright in the 30s, then up and vanished." Constantine answers.

"I used to produce him. Legend was, the Willie sold his soul to the Devil. Never put much stock in it. But when I found him dead, I believed . Wasn't nothing left but blood" There are brief memory flashes, a younger Marcus coming upon the upon scene. The Presto recorder, still on, the needle skipping over the final groove. "Turns out the acetate recorded something when he died. The Deceiver's voice."

"Really? It would be amazing if someone survived to tell exactly what it sounds like..." Stein said aloud. No one noticed John wince.

"That's just an urban legend, mate. You know how many "recordings" of the Devil's voice I've heard?"

"This one's real. I heard whispers when I picked it up, even without playing it. In my head, telling me to do horrible things. And it was cold to the touch." Another memory flash as young Marcus picks up and holds the acetate. He hears the whispers, reacting in pain as he drops the record. "I took it to my pastor and he played it. Killed his whole family. That's what it does, see? Anyone who listens to it goes mad."

"Why didn't you destroy it?" Zed asks.

"My question exactly!" Ray said.

"And you'd get it if you stopped interrupting." John shot back.

"I tried, but nothing worked. I couldn't break it, burn it. So I hid it. Sealed it up in a wall, closed the studio. Prayed." Younger Marcus hides the acetate in the Bible. He places it in the wall cache and covers it up with drywall and paint. "Been living in fear ever since, worrying someone would find it. Now it looks like somebody has."

"Oh."

"Any idea how Bernie came across it?"

"Lots of people hunting for years. Think they can 'tame' the voice. Make it work for them." He shakes his head, "A private investigator came to see me last week. He knew the legend. Offered to buy the acetate for five million dollars. Fool." He laughs ruefully, the suffers through a rasping cough. Zed pours him water, which he gratefully drinks. "Might be he found the damn thing anyway, gave it to your friend."

"This investigator didn't happen to mention who he was working or?"

"No, but I saw a name on the check. Fell." John reacts to that, clocking the name. But now Marcus is growing weaker, drifting off to sleep.

Zed squeezes his hand, "You did great, Marcus. Thank you."

Marcus smiles at her, "The weight doesn't feel so heavy any more. Think it's time to go to my reward, now."

"Why do you say that?"

"I see an angel standing there…" Marcus's breath grows more labored. Like he's nearing death. Scared for him, Zed suddenly turns and runs down the hallways.

"Nurse!" John goes to the hallway as Zed runs toward a nursing station. A nurse, startled by Zed's shout, fumbles a handful of files. Time stops as the papers flutter down for all except John. Zed's in mid-run. The nurse's papers stop in mid-fight. John takes a second to let this soak in, then turns towards Marcus' room, where Manny is now standing. The angel smiles, placing a finger over his lips as John nears.

"And he's back..." John grumbled. He wasn't a huge fan of Manny.

"I'm assuming your presence here confirms that his story's legit?"

"Something was recorded that night. As for whether or not it was the Devil with a capital D, I can't say. But if it was the First of the Fallen's voice and it gets into the wrong hands – you have to find it, John."

"So how about you ring the God Squad and call in reinforcements?"

Sara looked at him as if he had gone crazy, "The God Squad?"

"You know I can't."

"Then tell me this" He gestures to Zed, still frozen in he hallway, "You nudge this little minx in my direction?"

"No. That wasn't my doing." Manny answers, but before John can request clarification, Manny raises an index finger to Marcus' forehead even as the whine of an alarm from one of the moniters cycles up and normal time resumes. Manny is gone. Marcus is flat-lining. He seems at peace. Zed suddenly resumes running in the hallway. The papers drop. Hearing the alarm, Zed goes back to John.

"He said he saw an angel. Maybe it means he's in a better place."

"Not that angel..."

"Wrong angel." Suprisingly gentle, John squeezes Marcus's hand then releases it, "best we bugger off."

This was a rarely seen side of John that the audience witnessed.

They are back in Zed's car. Zed drives while John watches the landscape roll by.

Zed breaks the silence, "You recognized the name that Bernie mentioned, didn't you? Fell."

"Remember I said Bernie found some real stars? The brightest was a metalhead named Ian Fell. Kid was a mediocre talent, then one day, bang, he starts shredding the guitar. Music industry's in the crapper, but this kid's spinning gold like Midas.

"He sold his soul." Zed summarizes knowingly.

"I'd bet my life on it. You don't seem surprised by the idea of Old Scratch bartering for souls."

"That's a good point. It's almost as if you've dealt with something like this before." Rip stated, studying Zed's reaction on the TV and in the room.

Zed changes her demeanor, perhaps covering something up, "Oh well, you know… I've read the stories. What I never understood is why does he even want our souls?"

"The Devil used to be an angel. That's why he's called 'First of the Fallen'. Ask a holy-type and they'll tell you the sould is the 'purest expression of God's love'. The spark of Creation. So every time the First takes a soul, he's exacting revenge. Paying the Almighty back for casting him out." He points outside at Ian's mansion, "Pull over. We're here."

End Chapter:

QOTC:

LA: I'm gonna spank your lips