The show "Brimstone" belongs to Fox and their underlings. And
also lots of thanks to John Glover for doing a excellent Devil
and Peter Horton for doing a good Ezekiel Stone. If you try to
sue me for this, you'll get a ragged broom. And a dog with a
taste for garbage..not mine, fortunately. This story brings up
several puzzling things the Devil said to Ezekiel Stone in the
first episode, and puts them in a slash context. And slash,
ladies and gentlemen, means male/male sexual and emotional
relationship. Got that? Don't like that, get out. And..how'd you
get here anyway if you don't like slash? Now, with all the
disclaimers over and done with...on with the story. Oh, by the
way--this takes place after the Gwen DuBarres episode. The second
one, if that helps.
The Devil's Side
God, you...you frustrate me! I told you, damn clearly I
might add, that returning to Earth once you'd found and returned
all 113 souls to Hell was up to me. Remember?
I also told you you had been mine. Mine for 15 years. Do you
*really* think I'd give you up that easily? Souls, once they come
into my grasp, never leave it. Why didn't you tell that painted
Madaglene it wasn't wise to worship me? Afraid you might scare
her off? That I understand. But what delighted me...was what you
said to her. "Keep it up." Basically.
That obnoxious professor just came into the courts,
objecting all the way. Well, at least he's not married. I recall
one case--and this did happen, Stone---where six wives got
together and beat up a defendent before the guards could stop
them. Rather cooperative of them--considering that in life they
were all competing for his attention. That stopped abruptly, in a
place I think they call Waco. Very nice name for a nice town. In
Texas, I believe.
Ah. Let's put that aside, Stone. I remember the day they
brought you in MY court. It'd been a rather boring day. Well, try
dealing with child molesters. They're easy--they never feel guilt
about what they do, so it's easy to mail them off to the roughest
section of Hell. Like I said, boring.
And then the doors opened, I looked up and there you were.
The bailiff boomed out, "Name: Ezekiel Stone. Profession: Police
Officer. Crime: cold blooded murder." That one certainly got my
attention, Stone. Cop committing murder? It've became more and
more frequent, but not quite on the scale of the gang-bangers.
And I also wondered something else. What kind of sadistic parents
named you Ezekiel? Religious, obviously. I'd have expected a
David or Elijah, but Ezekiel? It's a rare name nowadays. As the
case went on, it became rapidly obvious that you took revenge on
your wife's rapist. Like you thought that'd help. What I
admire...I will never say this freely to you, you understand.
What I admire is, you hurt with her. The rape destroyed her and
you--yet you want to find her and live again. I don't think so,
I can't say how proud I am that you figured out that little
puzzle I gave you. Most of the people in Hell can't think---or
else why would they think a defense in Hell would work? You knew
better, I think. You sat there, waiting for the sentence. And
when it came, you didn't flinch.
Hell is just a large prison. And there is no parole. No one
gets out, not even Gwen DuBarres. Her rape was nasty, I'll admit,
and burning the men who raped her brilliant. But their families?
Their friends? And the Baron? Stone, that was excessive. Very
much so. And I don't like criminals who have no idea what the
restraints are. They tend to go overboard, and their minds goes
with it. Take Hitler, for example.
Would it surprise you to know I'm the first inmate of this
demented asylum called Hell? Probably not. But to make me the
Warden? I could see it in your eyes, Stone, when they brought you
into my office.
[Lucien Morningstar! I condemn you!] Sometimes, I hear his
voice. And I yearn again. But it stops, eventually. Just like
you'll stop yearning for her. Your wife. I won't refer to her by
name, she's a competitor, albeit an unknowing one.
I'm still angry about the escapees. The most inviolable
prison in the universe--and 113 people escaped! Well, now 111,
but who cares? One is too many. 111, that's way too much. And I
know someone old and powerful planned this. I wasn't going to
choose you, you know. I had my selection of brilliant cops and
detectives, so why'd I choose little ol' you?
Simple. The others'd been too long in Hell. Too long one of
mine. 15 years, I thought, was just perfect. Enough to acquit
some knowledge, but not enough to escape my control. How wrong I
was. Oh, I may have put their names on your body in my language.
But..you may not know control is a matter of degrees. Too much,
and it may destroy. Not enough, and it kills. That IS the irony
here, Stone. In tattooing you--oh, I remember that night. How
delicious it was, watching you writhe under the ink. Did they
tell you the ink is made of my blood? I thought not.
You eventually sent her back, Stone. I didn't think you
would. But someone else died, and you did what you had to. I
suspect that's what you did in your years as a cop--did what you
had to. I know, Stone, I made the right choice. You're too much
the cop still, to refuse me. In all ways.
I know I didn't get around to you, but you'd heard the
rumors. Obviously. Why else dare me to slap you around? And I
will, if I feel it necessary. No matter you're beautiful, in a
rough'n'tumble sort of way. No matter I'd like to tumble you
hard, in bed.
It's almost time to go back and see you, Ezekiel Stone. Time
to give you more advice, comments, and clues. Time to annoy you
some more. But I promise you..you will never be your wife's. You
will never live again. Trust me, Stone. After all...aren't I the
Grand Deceiever? The Prince of Lies. Take your pick, I love them
all. Just remember who I am. And what I can do to you if I so
choose, and you would have no right to refuse. Do you
understand, Ezekiel Stone? If breaking you is what is needed to
bring you back to Hell..I'd do it.
Contact the Author
Return to Story Index