(…) this moment will last a life time,
You always find the light so well,
I could search forever to see this far (…)
— Yes, folks, this is the new song of the band “We are the Ocean” – echoed a voice from the Chevrolet 67 ´s radio. – Now listen to the whole song “Save me, the Savior.”
The road was completely empty and a stormy rain was coming from the east. Nick Spencer, the famous reporter of the magazine “Post Mad”, needed to leave that road the fastest he could, otherwise he would be trapped in a storm of lightening and thunders.
Post Mad was famous for giving attention to news and facts ignored by the other magazines – sometimes having banned by them. And there was Nick, in search of big news.
Two weeks ago, he was awarded a prize for an article he had written on witchery. Besides proving its existence, he was also able to manage an interview with a witch from whom he had asked a specific “work”.
Now his challenge was to interview an exorcist who was gaining too much fame in a small town in the north of Missem. Nick was the right person in the right place, for he was an expert at convincing his readers of the supernatural issues he wrote about.
While driving and listening to the radio, an unexpected thought crossed his mind:
— “The devil is the only interview I have not made yet”.
He then smiled and kept driving, but seconds after that, he heard a sound – which did not come from the radio – interrupt his thoughts right away, so he took his feet off the accelerator.
He found out that he had had a flat tire, so he pulled off.
He was lucky to have a spare tire at the back hood, but he had forgotten to bring the hydraulic jack.
He tried to contact the tow-in car, but the cell had no signal because of the heavy rain.
Suddenly, another car pulled off behind his, and he felt happy to be able to leave that road before the rain would catch him.
A handsome man in burgundy – actually his clothes seemed to have come from the eighteenth century – smiled at him gently.
The car was a model of the 60`s, totally metallized and lavishly equipped.
— Need help? – asked the handsome man, though hiding his eyes.
— My tire decided to leave me here waiting for the storm to come – said Nick approaching the guy.
— I see… May I give you a ride or something?
— Well, all I need now is a jack.
— A person?
— No, no…you are not from this region, are you?
— I do not think so…
— I need a hydraulic jack, used for lifting up the car and changing its tires – explained Nick, a bit awkwardly.
— Oh, I understand. I might have something in my car.
The man walked around Nick´s car and saw the magazines whose covers had Nick portrayed on.
— I presume that you are a journalist, that´s right?
— That´s right. I am Nick Spencer, from Post Mad.
— Sorry, but I do not read magazines at all – apologized the man gently.
— Alright. 40% of people don´t do that either.
— And which is your best magazine?
— I haven´t written it yet.
— No? Why not - asked him showing some interest.
— Well, I have been unable to meet my target so far.
Nick then looked more attentively to the boy a bit surprised with his sudden interest.
— And what would that be?
— Well, it might sound weird, but “that” is the Devil – said Nick smiling.
— The devil?
— Yes, Lucifer, the beast…
— And why hasn´t this interview been made yet?
— Because I do not know where he lives – joked Nick out loud.
— Well, here I am.
— At this very moment Nick saw that the man did not have eyes, but two snakes that were ready to attack him. But they did not.
— Come on, you wanted to interview me, so go ahead!
— Come on, Nick, ask your questions!
At that moment, a dark and heavy rain hung over them, and the sound of a strong thunder could be heard. Still confused, Nick fetched his booklet and a well-sharpened pencil from his bag.
— Ask your questions. I will answer five of them, and then I will let you rest in peace – ordered the Devil with a sort of distorted voice which was hard to be understood.
Felling nervous, Nick started to think while he looked at the snake-leather boots that the Devil was wearing at that time. Then he started asking the questions without looking directly to the man.
— So, you are the Devil in person, that´s right?
— Any doubt … – he asked in a funny way.
— So, what actually makes you be a god in Hell? – asked Nick trying not to show how nervous and shaky he was.
— Hell is nowhere but here, my dear. I am not a god, you made me a god…but I am simply a Fallen Angel.
— Why did you show yourself to me?
— You wanted the interview, forgot?
— Do you yourself choose those who will die or anyone has their right time?
— Anyone decides their moment to die. Well, now what is your last question?
Nick thought deeply about the last question he would make to that being – that was not human, and the only one question would be no other but that:
— When am I going to die?
— Are you sure this is your last question?
— Positively – said Nick while he closed his booklet and observed that creature that looked calmer then.
— What I mean to say is that anyone has their right moment to die, and when they ask such question, it is because they are calling me; so, Mr. Nick Spencer, you will die today, at this time and place, for you have chosen it to be like that.
Nick stepped back in terror and hit the car with his arm. He tried not to fall down, when he saw that storm over their heads again.
He did not know what to do, and looking at the sky, he identified a bright light that was coming down in his direction. He then looked at the man and noticed that he had become a large snake which was about to leave that place. Out of the blue, a lightning hit him and everything disappeared.
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