Part 1 of 1
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Tonight we present a short chiller tale regarding one Dr. Henry Faust.
The Skinner Co. Network
149 - Bargain, Part 1 of 1
[music] Welcome to FlashPulp, episode 149. Tonight, we present... Bar again, part one, but one. [music] This week's episodes are brought to you by the Relic Radio Network. Are you familiar with the six-shooter, Luke Slaughter? The man called X, you should be. Find out more at relicradio.com or search for Relic Radio in iTunes. [music] [music] FlashPulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age. Three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. Tonight, we present a short chiller tale regarding one Dr. Henry Faust. Bar again, part one, of one. Written by J.R.D. Skinner. Art and narration by Opoponax. An audio produced by Jessica May. [music] Dr. Henry Faust, aware of the dark humor in his name, sat waiting in his study. He assured himself he was prepared for what was coming, and yet, his stomach looped as if his still leather chair were a rollercoaster. On the morning of his thirty-eighth birthday, exactly one year previous, the signs had begun to manifest. The middle finger of his left hand had taken on scar tissue, as if a ring were growing from his flesh, and at its center, where a gem might have been inset in a metal band, a pinprick wound had opened. There seemed to be no end to the hole in his flesh; it did not bleed, although it appeared so deep that bone ought be visible; instead, inside was not but darkness. A month before the day of the appointed meeting, his cell phone began to ring nightly at the stroke of twelve. Each time he would be greeted with the same response, the sound of a child's weeping, and then a baritone voice numbering the days. Finally, on the previous evening, the count had reached one, and so, having sent away a young hank with his beloved Nicole, Faust had enacted his long birthday vigil. The demon appeared. It made its entrance through a portal of flame, its horns challenging the shadows that slid across the library's towering ceilings. "Fouced!" it bellowed from beneath the stink of sulfur, "I have come for your first child!" Henry nodded, eyeing the beast over the rim of his glasses. "Mar talks, the castigated, lord of the twelfth realm of the underworld, raised a thorny brow at the human's lack of reaction. Do you not recall that upon your seventh birthday you promised your child's life in exchange for enormous knowledge, even beyond the ken of that of your fellow men?" "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Henry scooped up a pen and said it travelling between the knuckles of his right hand. As agreed, I have come, at the time of your thirty-ninth birthday, to collect. Spitting on the plush carpet, the fiend continued, "Gaze now upon the contract that is your ruination!" It thrust a tattered scroll across the desk. Henry hated fumbling for the switch, so he'd had the clapper installed. With a sharp double crack of his palms, the room was filled with illumination. Looking up the unnaturally warm paper, he noted his crayola signature at the bottom. "Sure, looks right." As he continued to look over the fine calligraphy detailing the pact, Mar talks lifted the photo of Hank, three, Faust kept on a nearby shelf. "I have seen none so callous about their own offspring," said the demon, "you chill even such as I. Where is the boy? Come, do not try to hide him." "It doesn't seem like there's much I can do." Reaching into the small fridge he kept to sustain his constant need for Mountain Dew, the doctor retrieved a small parcel and sat it on the supernatural parchment. "There you go." "Do not play games," replied Martox. "I have come for your first. Where is he?" "Bingo," said Faust, pointing at the tiny package. "You've come for my first," Hank is my second. "Maybe you need to check your paperwork." The furious collector ripped aside the brown paper which surrounded the plastic box. Through the clear sides, the contents were plainly visible. "There is nothing within but goo!" "Yes, the issue of my loins," mixed with the issue of a sweet volunteer who thought she was donating to a nice young couple who couldn't have children. That was ten years ago, but the moment after the egg was fertile, I froze the whole thing. "You made me," amongst other things, the world's leading biomedical engineer. What did you expect? Flashpulp is presented by http colon slash slash skinner.fm. The audio and text formats of Flashpulp are released under the Canadian Creative Commons attribution non-commercial 2.5 license. the the