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I-1 - Piss And Shadows

written by Collin J.H. Chang

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About this story

Published: 1997 | Size: 8 KB (1388 words) | Language: english | Rating: R
Average: 2.9/5   2.9/5 (8 votes)
A MSCL and "John Constantine, Hellblazer" crossover

based on stories and characters created by Winnie Holzman


To catch up all you lurkers, Jonathan and I are starting our very own "Vertigo" line of stories (just like the Vertigo line of comics which Winnie Holzman is a closet fan of!). Y'see, we've just figured out that 'ol Winnie's based a lot of her characters from My So-Called Life on characters in the Vertigo Comics universe. First and foremost amongst them is Rayanne Graff, who owes her genesis to a fella named John Constantine (from a comic titled, oddly enough, John Constantine, Hellblazer) who's a self-destructive, alcoholic charmer who uses his friends as shields and was once the lead singer in a punk/grunge band with a weird name. Sound familiar? Yeah, we thought so, too.
The first and flagship amongst our stories is
the chronicles of RAYANNE GRAFF, HELLBLAZER.

-- Collin Chang



Trepidation dogging her every step, Angela follows Rickie into the blackness of the inner sanctum, as jagged shadows leap out at them.

I've never really ever been comfortable in, like, a church. I mean, they're supposed to be these really uplifting, joyful places. But to me, they're, like, actually pretty scary. Especially at night.
Rickie leads Angela further into the darkness.
So, was Rayanne, I mean, was she really--?

RICKIE (voice choking)
She was scared, Angela. I've never heard her so scared before. Not even when Rusty tried to feel her up.

What--?! Rusty tried to--?!!

Movement. There's a SOUND ahead, in the still blackness. A high-pitched TAP! Angela looks at Rickie; she holds her breath.
Rayanne...Rayanne, is that you?
ANOTHER TAP. Angela and Rickie walk in the direction of the sound.

A BOTTLE OF JACK DANIELS taps the altar, as the hand grasping its neck like a lifeline shakes, trembles.

oh my god...
Angela takes a deep breath, covers her mouth.

RAYANNE crouches on the tiny altar in the silent darkness, her eyes wide with terror, her left hand vice-tight around the half-empty vodka bottle. She smells of sweat and urine. She shuts her eyes, tight, as if willing herself to vanish.

Suddenly, Rayanne's eyes flicker wide at the sound of Rickie's voice.
Angela and Rickie step out of the shadows of the dark sanctuary, into a murky wedge of moonlight breaking through a stained glass window pane.
Yes, it's me. And Angela.
(a beat)
Rayanne, why are you hiding in here?

RAYANNE(voice trembling)
He's--he's out there--he's...after me...
Oh, Rickie, I'm so...

Her voice trails off. Angela stares, disbelieving. She's never seen Rayanne this frightened. Ever.
The first time I ever saw Rayanne Graff, she was, like, running off of campus during classes. I remember thinking it was, like, the boldest thing I'd ever seen anyone do. I guess that's what made me want to, sort of, hang out with her.

Who's after you, Rayanne? What happened?

Rayanne shuts her eyes, takes a deep breath.
It's so weird to, like, see someone you once thought of as really, really bold, actually...terrified. It was kind of like watching my dad back down from a fight with a man who had swerved into our lane and hit our car when I was twelve.

I-I've finally done it.

Done what, Rayanne. I don't understand.

Rayanne looks to the side, lets out a breath of laughter that belies the terror written on her face.
Y-You know, what I-I always do...
She's silent for a beat, as she considers the ramifications of her actions.
No, Rayanne, I don't--

I-I've pissed off the last bastard--I ever should have...
(laughs to herself)

Angela brushes her hair behind her right ear, takes a deep breath.
Well, there's nothing to be afraid of, now. All your friends are here.
Again, Rayanne laughs.
A fat lotta good that's gonna do...
She takes a deep swig of the JD, shuts her eyes tightly as it burns down her throat, fires up her courage.
What I--what I really could use, now, is my very own, personal, do-it-yourself guardian angel...
Think Tino could get me one 'a those?
As if on cue:
Rayanne...! Rayanne...!
Rayanne takes a deep breath. Tensely, she looks at Angela.
I--I told my mother we were looking for you.
(a beat)
There are people who worry about you, Rayanne...

Rayanne...! It's all right...You can come out...I've got a--a _friend_ here with me. You'll be safe with her...I promise.

Again, Rayanne and Angela lock eyes. A long beat.
My mother's voice is, like, the most reassuring sound in the whole world, sometimes.
The wild fear in Rayanne's eyes begins to soften.
My mother, you know, usually means what she says...usually.
After a beat, Rayanne moves to step down from the altar, and Angela helps her. Her legs are stiff from crouching for what must have been hours. There's a yellow puddle beneath her.


Angela, Rickie and Rayanne exit the church, and file down the cold stone stairs where Patti, her trademark concerned look on her face, stands bundled against the night. Next to her stands Juliana Hatfield, wings and all...

BRIAN, SHARON AND DANIELLE form a semi-circle at the foot of the church steps.

CLOSE ON A MAKITA CHAINSAW as it sits, hidden behind a tree. Quiet. Still. Hungry. No one sees it. Except Rayanne.


Everything happens so fast, a stacatto rhythm of bloodlust.
RAYANNE hoists up THE CHAINSAW, pulls the starter cord -- the chainsaw comes to life -- BBBBRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

Rayanne--! No--! No--!
Rickie begins sobbing uncontrollably, as the exhilaration of the hunt fills the air!
What's going on! What's happening! Someone tell me! Why am I always the last to know?!
Rickie grasps Brian, as much to ease his own horror as to comfort Brian.
RICKIE Nothing--! Nothing's happening--! She--she just gets this way, sometimes!
Danielle stares at the chaos, her little round face frozen, her mouth hanging open, gaping. Sharon steps near, turns Danielle's head away from the horror, holds her tiny head against her chest.
SHARON (barely audibly)
Don't look...
From Hatfield's back, a fountain of blood and feathers erupts like red hot, living lava. Her piercing, maddenly high-pitched screams scars the souls of all present.
Just don't take my boots! Please! God! PLEEEEEAASE!!! Just don't take my boots! They were a gift from ANGELAAAAAAABBBRRRRZZZZZZZZRRRRRGGGGGHHHAAARGGGH...!!!

THE END of Episode 1

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Rating Distribution:
Average: 2.9/5   2.9/5 (8 votes)
  • anonymmmmmous gave this story a 2.0/5 2.0/5 rating and commented on 22 Feb 2009:
    Jack Daniels is whiskey, not vodka.

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“Ignore her. She got up on the wrong side of the coffin this morning.”

Enrique (Rickie) Vasquez, Episode 9: "Halloween"