Chapter II: It Rains Pitchforks in Hell (Pt.IV)

It was abnormally still, the only sound that could be heard was the outside howling of the bitter wind biting at the windows. I walked towards the stairs shining the light on the dark corners that the dim lights couldn’t illuminate, my footsteps muffled by the plush carpet.

A ringing sound broke the eerie hush with a shrill, there was an antique red phone on a small table to the right of the stairs. Was Jackie boy expecting a call? The phone rang and rang with no end in sight, almost as if it was begging me to answer it. To shut the damn thing up, against my better judgment, I answered it.
A static buzzed emitted from the other end of the line, “Hello?” I asked adjusting the phone. A tune began to play through the waves of white noise, “Fizzz…. W-when…… fizzzz…. You knocked…. fizz…. Upon my door…. Fizzz……. Me and…. Fizzzz…… walking side by side.” Blues? Who would be calling playing blues?
“Hello? Who’s there?” The music stops and the white noise grew louder pinching the nerves in my ear, and without warning is stopped “Daddy?” I dropped the phone petrified. Ethan? No, no it couldn’t be, just an old man still plagued by the past; b-but I was sure it was the sound of my baby boy.

The Arcangelo Family

The Arcangelo Family is a pure Mafia family based in Graham City and Jericho City.
It was founded in the first half of the twentieth century by William Arcangelo. The Arcangelo Family was the wealthiest family in the organization before they were slaughtered 3 years prior to the story began.
The Arcangelo family consist of one son whose body was never recovered, he is presumed alive, hidden by one of the made Families. The rest of the family is currently deceased with no other confirmed survivors at the hands of the Dogs Special Crime Unit.
In 1941, the organization had over a thousand members and connections with both the police, the press, and select government officials, making it one of the most influential mob organization within the Syndicate.
The Arcangelo family had a mutually beneficial relationship with the Genovese Family for a period of time; the Genovese’s oversaw the manufacture of drugs (including Lunar Flower and Celestial) which the Arcangelo’s would distribute for them, an arrangement which proved profitable for both sides. However, the death of the first-generation head of the Genovese Family marked the beginning of the end of their alliance. His replacement, Marco Genovese (his son) and August Genovese (his grandson), had different ideas about money, and Arcangelo-Genovese relations deteriorated while both sides tried and failed to come to a new agreement.
Tensions reached their peak in October 1930. The Arcangelo Jackal, Nicholas Bravura, orchestrated and covered up the deaths of both Marco and August, the bodies of whom were found in a car at the bottom of the Graham city bay. With the two heads, out of the picture, the Arcangelo family quickly took over the Genovese family’s factories and cover businesses (textiles), silencing witnesses through threats or murder.
After years of complete control as the top family, during the four-year war, the head family was completely wiped out by the local police force and the Special Crime Unit, Dogs. After receiving tips and plans of the inner structures the Mayor at that time demanded the complete desolation of the Family. Not much is known to the public of how the information was leaked but many believe that the current Don of the Genovese, Don Valencia Genovese (Granddaughter to August Genovese), staged a coup d’état to seize control of the Syndicate. Ultimately shifting the monarchy of powers within the Families.

Red Serpent syndicate

The Red Serpent Syndicate is a structured crime organization led by 3 primary Families.

Not too much is known about the crime syndicate.

There are many subgroups within the organization known as Families, yet there are three primary families:

The Punchinello’s, which maintains control of operations over Jericho City.

The DelaMarco Family oversee all undertakings in-Graham city,

and finally, the Genovese family the main head of the families commands all business within the Families.

The syndicate specializes mostly in assassinations, but are also involved in the trafficking of narcotics, Luna Flower in particular.

During the revolution of both Graham and Jericho city, a 4-year war was waged between Local P.D and the Syndicate. After the formation of the Specialize Crime Task Unit, Dogs, the war was swiftly ended after the death and annihilation of the Arcangelo Family, the Original head family of the Red Serpent Syndicate. Soon after the Genovese Family took headship of the Syndicate eventually working a truce with the local government.

Chapter II: It Rains Pitchforks in Hell (Pt.III)

The estate was desolated, not a soul in sight. There was something foul in the air, the feeling hit me like a point-blank shot to the face. Before I could knock I notched the door was already slightly cracked. My m95 stirred nervously under my coat as I came in from the cold and into the weakly lit dark. A cold gust of wind blew past me; there was a boding evil saturating this place, every instinct in me screamed to get the hell out of there, but the curious sleuth in me was strong. I turned to the door to further examine it, there was wood splintered around the lock. Someone had given one hell of a knock.

“Hello? Police, anyone home?” my voice reverberated off the walls. It’s been years since I’ve been on the force, but the line was etched into my brain, old habits die hard.  I was extremely uncomfortable just strolling into a Red Serpent’s place of operation but something was amiss. It was faintly lit inside, I could barely make out anything in front of me, I reached into the lower pocket of my jacket drawing out my penlight.

I was extremely uncomfortable just walking into a Red Serpent’s place of operation but something was amiss. It was faintly lit inside, I could barely make out anything in front of me, I reached into the lower pocket of my jacket drawing out a penlight.

It was a palace, pure and simple, something out of a Hollywood movie. The main area was the epitome of lavish, it alone was larger than my entire apartment. Tiled in black flecked marble, and dominated by a wide, carpeted staircase that led to a second-floor balcony. Arched marble pillars lined the ornate hall, supporting the dark, heavy wood balustrade of the upper floor. Fluted wall sconces cast funnels of light across walls of red wine, décor of classic artistry gave the walls more of an eye captivating appeal. In short, it was impressive.

Korban Amandus Black – Bio

Detective Korban Amandus Black, Ex-military and decorated police officer, born in the rural area of Georgia eventually moved Midwest, where he became a homicide detective in Graham City.

Korban was raised during the 1980s, the son of Lewis and Jacqueline Black, a troubled youth growing Korban was always getting into fights with bullies standing up for those too weak to stand for themselves. Korbans father was a cage fighter that worked for the Red Serpent syndicate. After Lewis unintentionally wins a fixed fight, ending the upstart career of Johnny Punchinello, son of the Don of the Red Serpent syndicate, Murdock Punchinello, Jack Gotti and his men were sent to kill both Lewis and his wife Jacqueline. Jack Gotti left young Korban alive, for him it was mercy after already taking his parents lives in front of him, leaving Korban and orphan until his grandfather, Joe Black eventually adopted him.

Years later to get away from his past, Korban joined the Military where he excelled in combat as a decorative hero in the Iraq war. After serving 6 years, Korban returned home to Graham City where he ended up as a police detective in the Graham City Police Department, becoming and befriending Jason Wright. He later married grade school teacher Stephine Baker, a year later after saving her from being the latest victim of what was an ongoing kidnapping spree. The two ended up having their first and only child, Ethan.

Korban was on a prosperous fast track with his beautiful family, Wife Stephine Black and they’re 8-year-old son until the summer of 2016 that was taken from him. Stephine who was visiting her brother, Danny Baker, at the time was killed in his suburban home of Jericho and Ethan was abducted. Four days later his body was found clothes changed into white garbs stained with blood and posed like a resting angle. This would be one of many killings of young children known as the Pied Piper case.

Korban spirals down a dark and vengeful path eventually moving to Jericho in addition to leaving the Graham City Police in hopes to catch his families Killer. But what he finds may be a truth he never expected.

Chapter II: It Rains Pitchforks in Hell (Pt.II)

What was left of the evening daylight faded, all you could see now was the density of infinite towering silhouettes shadowing the ground. The forest seemed never-ending, it was almost as if I was being transported into another world. The head lights illumined a big green worn sign that read “Welcome to White Gate”. An old mining town full of hicks and religious folks, not much is out there anymore after the mines closed. It was deemed unstable after a few of the bodies of missing people were found mutilated.
“This is as far as I go mon,” his island accent was thick but understandable.            “Just past this here town is the Rockwell estate you seek.”
“End of the line huh, well keep the meter running I shouldn’t belong.” I hand him a hundred cash, ensuring his stay for me. “It’s a long way back into the city on foot.”

“True that my Brotha, I’ll wait for ya, but hurry it up its colder than my ex-wife’s heart.” I nodded with a smile turning up the lapel of my jacket.

The small town was drenched in gloom; an uneasy feeling started to fester causing my stomach to churn. It was silence throughout the town as I made my way up the winding dirt road. The townspeople seem not too keen on outsiders, peeking out their windows and closing their doors as I dared further up the road; no warm welcome here, just cold stares.

Chapter II: It Rains Pitchforks in Hell

It was cold, this city was unnaturally fridged during the fall even worse in the winter. Even the dead could be heard in their graves teeth chattering. That thirst for the brown creature started to swell on my pallet, I could feel it rattling to be set free from the inside of my coat jacket, but I needed to be focus, sharp, breeze through this case and get paid. Simple, yea, simple, nothing ever simple when your detective Korban Black.

I needed a start, the who’s, the what’s, and the whys; questions that needed answers. I called in a few favors, asked around and one name kept popping up, Jack Rockwell. A notorious local art dealer in for the Red Serpents. Just my luck, Christ; the last thing I wanted to do was get tangled up with anything dealing with them.

The Red Serpent Syndicate, an organized criminal society comprised of the biggest crime family in all of America. They had their hands in just about everything in this crooked state, each family had claim stack over each city. For Jericho, it’s the worst of the worst; the Punchinello Family. Led by none other than Don Murdock Punchinello and his son Johnny Punchinello, nothing moves in this city without their say so and if it doesn’t make dollars it doesn’t move. So, what would they want with this box? What value could it hold to have the Punchinello family involved?

Jackie boy had a nice cozy place on the outskirts of the city up the mountains. An estate just a few miles out towards Old’s town. With the string of missing persons steadily raising and a good portion of those bodies turning up drifting, floating down a river in the forest no one really dares venture out of fear.

Staring out the cab window I became mesmerized, the mercury was sinking fast. It was colder than the Devils’ heart. Raindrops fell like pitchforks as if the heavens were ready to fall. People were scurrying for shelter like rodents when the lights turn on.

The cab turned onto a bumpy, cracked road overgrown with shrubs. It’s been decades since anyone has taken this route. The surroundings radiated an ominous feeling, reaching into my coat pocket my fingers found themselves toying with the cap of my flask, I instead pulled out the photo Mrs. Love had given to me. Something about this thing made me sick to the core, its cravings seem to date back to a biblical era or older, much older. It showed resemblance to that of Dante’s depiction of Inferno as a spiraling cave underground down to the center of the earth where a great beast lies trapped. When I couldn’t stomach it anymore I tucked the photo back into my inner pocket and took a swig from my flask to ease some of the unsettling nausea in my gut.

The trees leered, I felt as if they were ready to rip me from the backseat with their long-twisted branches stretching for the cab. The sunset with practice bravado the further we traversed up the winding mountain road. The radio chattered with static, it wasn’t before long as an eerie but classic song played. A woman singing a cover of the old American folk song “A conversation with Death”. I remembered as a child my mother would sing this to me as if it was a lullaby, to ease me during the rough periods of her sickness. “Korban, do not fear the Reaper, for he is one Gods sweetest angels.” She would say to me rubbing my head as I rested my ears to her beating heart. When the cab hit a bump in the road, the song hit a feedback replaying a lyric of the song more than once. When God is gone and the Devil takes hold, who’ll have mercy on your soul. Was this a prelude of something ominous to come?



I am Evil.

Through this hellish city, I escape.

Through the sins of the damned, I tread prints of blood.

Along the River Styx, I flee, lungs congested with the phlegm of my lies.

I bank left onto 3rd where the gluttonous reside, making my way northward past 4th on through the sully back street of Dis.

Hells angels still pursue me.

Their footsteps at the nape of my heels, relentless in their hunt for Pandora.

I’ve done well these last few years hiding and protecting the container of God, living in the deepest level of purgatory along chthonic monsters, yet alas the Angels of hell found me still because I’ve fallen victim to Love.

I… am Evil.

You, my beloved, You, the forbidden fruit… I love you, knowing that you are the key to mankind’s damnation. Valteilbara shall watch over you, protect you from the Serpents of the Devil my precious Treasure. I scurried deeper down the wet slick roads of the sinners,

Where? Where could I find, Salvation?

I made it to the descending stairs in the lower depths. Of hell. I crashed into iron gates at the foundation of the stairs. I made it to the tower from which there would be no return, I pulled the rusted gates into the passageway moving with haste up the narrow staircase spiraling skyward.

I… am Evil

I could hear their unyielding roars from below, rapidly closing in. They are not worthy of your gift, they do not see the blessing you truly are. Ungrateful!

As I made it to the top, staggering with Death’s icy grip at my nape. The morning dank air eased me for I was met with a calm scene of the Lords warming light.

“Where is the box?!” they shrieked.

I stand now, my back against the wall. They stare deep into my tired brown eyes, and their expressions dim, “For the love of God,” they bellowed, “Return it to us!”

For precisely His love, I will protect you from… him.

“We have our methods, and we know no remorse even for a woman. Now tell us, give us what you took.” Without warning, I turned grasping the high ledge, hauling myself up, struggling onto my knees, blood spewing from my side. They pounce forward in disbelief, I could feel their grasp for my feet. I stood towering over this sin soaked city, those devils begging now for my soul, there was nowhere left to go. Tears spilled down my eyes, I took in a deep breath, my eyes affixed to the heaven.


That’s where you are wrong demon, for there is one last door out of hell. Guide me, dear Virgil, as I plunge deeper into the final circle of hell.

Lord, please receive me not as a monstrous sinner, but as a mother to this world. God, I pray Valteilbara finds Pandora, my Love…

I offer up me and pray for salvation…

I offer up me and pray for joy….

I offer up me and pray that you understand why I leave thee behind.

I whispered taking my final step, into the abyss.

I… am not Evil…


Metal screams, the smell of worn rubber fills my nostrils.

“We regret to report the murder of a young woman and her newborn child,”

There’s no up, no down; just weightless floating in a blackened void. Where am I? How did I get here? What have I done? My mind always stayed boggled with questions, always been that way since I could change my underwear.


What mess did I get myself into this time, well, whatever happens, happens right? A warm light cascade all around me, ascending my body into its dazzling embrace. The Light at the End of the Tunnel…

Jericho City

Jericho City, a small industrialized city located in the Midwestern United States.

At present, the area is ruled by the Red Serpent Syndicate. A structured crime organization led by 3 primary Families:

The Punchinello Family

The DelaMarco Family

and finally, the Genovese Family.

Jericho along with its sibling city, Graham, just west of it, begin modernization early in the 1990’s during the one-year recession, immediately following the opening of the N.O.R Pharmaceutical, which had a lab based in the nearby mountains.

During the innovation of the city crime began to exploded resulting in the 4-year war between the Jericho P.D and the Red Serpent Syndicate until Edward Albert Love took chair as Mayor ending the conflict with a joint task force of the Special Crime Unit, Dogs and the Jericho Police Department to counter the increasing crime that the once small traditional town was unable to handle; this task force was heavily funded by N.O.R. Coincidentally Korban Black was drafted along the Dog unit.