Just My Luck! A Short Drama
Copyright© 2026 by aroslav
Chapter 6: It Was a Dark and Stormy Night
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 6: It Was a Dark and Stormy Night - A down-on-his-luck accountant is murdered, resurrected, and thrust into a whirlwind of corporate intrigue, romance, and second chances in Just My Luck!, a sharp, witty drama where bad fortune might just be the best thing that ever happened. This is patterned after Chinese Short Dramas, just 23 chapters.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Crime Humor Workplace Paranormal Polygamy/Polyamory
Lightning struck shaking everything around me, sizzling through my body. Rain was pelting down so hard that with my first breath, I nearly drowned.
Except I couldn’t drown, could I? I mean I was dead. How could I be dead and then not dead. Yet, as I lay there on the cold pavement, I could feel the pain of having all my bones broken and then suddenly knitting back together. I was alive!
Why? Why was I killed? I didn’t remember much, but I knew I’d been beaten to death and then run over. I couldn’t really remember anything else.
I struggled to sit upright. My suit was torn and soaked through. Sirens were blaring. No flashing lights. What did that mean? Tornado? A tornado warning! I tried to stand but I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.
Okay. Close enough.
I managed to get to my knees, looking into the darkness all around me. I’d been dumped in some remote area where there were no lights. Or maybe the power was out. I felt myself to see if I could make it all the way to my feet. In my jacket pocket was something hard and flat. My cell phone! Why would murderers leave me with my phone. And my wallet. My keys. I hadn’t been robbed, just killed. I pulled out the phone and dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1. State your emergency.”
“I ... need to report a murder.”
“A murder? Where? Of whom?”
“I don’t know where I am. I ... Of me. The murder was of me.”
“Sir, are you aware there is an actual emergency underway right now? Tornadoes have struck all over the region and we are dispatching police and ambulances as fast as we can. We cannot afford prank calls. Take shelter immediately and don’t tie up this line.”
“But...” The line was dead.
I could hear the roaring wind around me. It was like a freight train bearing down on me. I was dizzy and turning in circles. Shelter? Where was shelter?
I lifted my face to the heavens. Did this author think he was writing The Wizard of Oz? I was going to be sucked up by a tornado!
Lights cut through the rain and haze. They were coming at me. No! I’d already been through this. I’m not going to die again from the same stupid cause!
I could hear the squealing tires as the car skidded toward me and I crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
“The weather’s a mess. Let me drive you home, Anya,” JR said.
They’d left the construction shelter inside the warehouse structure. It was nothing but beams around them, but they’d managed a tour of the staked-out plots before the rain really started. Then they’d stayed for coffee and a presentation by the Director of Development at Global, Bill Williams. It was logical that JR would be there. It was tolerable that his father came to see the site—late, of course—but he stayed inside the shelter the entire time the foot tour was on.
It wasn’t just their company. Over a dozen prospective developers for the site were at the presentation and several had not bothered to tour the 150 acres in four-wheelers. It was little more than former farmland and prairie. It gave them an idea of the space, though, and that was what was necessary.
“We have a car, JR. And yours won’t hold three people. We’ll see you at the office to debrief on Monday,” Anya said.
“But it’s not safe for you out here alone,” JR said as he tried to shelter them with an umbrella that was caught in the wind and turned inside out.
“Just go! We won’t be alone if we get out of here now!”
All the attendees were rushing to their cars and making a mass exit from the construction site. Anya and Romy made it to their car and jumped inside while JR finally let go of the umbrella and dove into his little sportscar. The car rumbled to life and he pressed the accelerator.
“Damn bitch!” he muttered as he left them behind. Ever-cautious Romy was barely crawling forward. They were soon gone from his rearview mirror.
“What’s wrong?” Anya asked Romy.
“I don’t know. It’s like the car is bogged down. I can barely get it to move.”
“Let’s take a look.”
They both got out of the luxury car and toured it. Neither knew what they would do if they had engine trouble.
“Oh, shit!” Romy called. “We’ve got a flat!”
Anya joined her to look at the left front tire. The rim was resting on the ground. They quickly looked around, but they were the only ones left in the parking area. Romy quickly called road service and was told the quickest they could possibly get someone to the remote location would be after the tornado warning ended at ten.
“We’ll have to change it ourselves,” Anya said.
“Change a tire?” Romy asked, horrified.
“Open the trunk. Don’t you know how to change a tire?”
The trunk popped open and Anya quickly located the jack and wrench. They were on fairly flat ground, but she handed blocks to Romy and told her where to position them while she loosened the stubborn lug nuts. She finally had to get Romy to help her put all their combined weight on the wrench to get them loose. She positioned the jack and raised the car enough to finish taking off the nuts and then the wheel. Romy rolled the donut spare to her and struggled to get the flat into the trunk.
By the time the tire was changed and the tools were put away, over half an hour had passed and both women were soaked to the skin and filthy dirty. Anya’s white shirt and black suit were covered with mud. Romy’s bare legs—always in a miniskirt—were coated with the dirt from the tire. Her face was smeared where she’d attempted to wipe the rain from it.
They sat in the car with the heater and defroster at full blast, shivering in their wet clothes.
“Remember you can’t drive more than thirty on that tire. It will get us home, but that’s about all,” Anya said.
“Thirty? In this weather?” Romy said. “Lucky to hit ten.”
They heard the sirens go start and saw the light poles at the construction site shaking as the wind whipped across them.
“Tornado?” Anya said. “How could we be so lucky?”
Romy put the car in gear and crept forward, barely able to see the road with her headlights and fog lights on. It seemed like forever before they were out of the construction site and on what passed for a main road. It was just a two-lane country road and they couldn’t speed up, even though there were at least stripes on the pavement to show where the lanes were. A bolt of lightning struck near enough to shake the slow-moving car and blind them for a few seconds.
“Watch out!” Anya screamed as the figure of a man suddenly loomed in the pool of their headlights.
Romy slammed on the brakes and the car skidded, hydroplaning on the wet pavement. The man went down in front of them.
Anya was out of the car before Romy shifted into park. Romy followed her as quickly as possible.
“I didn’t hit him! I know I didn’t hit him!” she screamed as she rushed to Anya, knelt over the man.
“He’s a mess. But you didn’t hit him.”
“It’s a scam! Be careful, Anya. Don’t get too near to him.”
“Who’d run a scam like this during a tornado?” Anya said. “Look! I know him.”
She lifted me to a sitting position and the headlights shone in my eyes. I didn’t die again. There were two women outlined in halos of light.
“Angels,” I said, and slumped against her breast as I faded out of consciousness again.
“Hospital,” Anya said when we were in the car. Romy drove and Anya held me in the back seat.
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