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
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. This is the counterpart to "The Devil's Side".
Ezekiel Stone's Side
I don't think I've ever been that frightened in my life,
when Gwen DuBarres tried to burn me..and take me back to Hell
with her. I can just hear your voice now, you know. "Well,
well...so a little pip of a girl took you down, did she?"
That'd've been what you said, if I had lost. The woman was
600 years yours, and you know it. Just like the priest who
believed in the Four Beasts of Revelations..and he had sulfur in
every inch of him. I wonder if he even believed where he had
landed up after they hanged him for the murder of eight boys.
I didn't want to send her back. I didn't. All I could see,
all I could remember was my wife. The rape. I blame myself for
it. Even now. Oh, I know. It wasn't my fault work kept me late.
Wasn't my fault..no. I know, but I still blamed myself. Very
normal, the psychologists told me. What the hell did they know,
huh? Had they ever had a wife who'd been raped? No. I think
that's part of why I wanted to find her. To make sure she was ok.
That..that she hadn't suffered anymore.
I remember the day I died. That punk shot me full in the
face, and how that hurt. Hurt..Heh. I couldn't believe it when I
ended up in Hell. When they told me I was there because of the
murder I committed...my wife's rapist. She wasn't the only one he
did, you know. Just the latest in a long string of women he left
behind to pick up the pieces of their lives. But this time, he
paid for it. It felt good. But then *I* paid for the murder.
Yeah. I'd heard the rumors about you, Lucien Morningstar.
Son of the Morning. The most loved, the most respected angel in
Heaven. And then you fell. I wonder..do you have wings? Or is
that just another lie about the reality of Heaven and Hell?
I also heard other, more darker rumors. Of your favorites.
And I thanked..God, I suppose, that you had never come down to
our part of Hell. Never saw me. I had a hard time anyway, with
being a cop. That eventually got straightened out.
Then one day, that big guard, Ohren, comes and gets me.
"Morningstar wants to see you, Stone. Don't you feel honored," he
said. I said the only thing that came to mind, "No, I don't." He
hit me. And then again. That's why I showed up in your office
with blood all over my face. I know better, after 15 years, not
to do that to the guards. But something pushed me to say it.
Imagine my surprise when you tell me 113 souls escaped from
Hell. And then tells me you've chosen me to hunt them down. If I
wanted the job, of course. That was like holding out meat to a
starving dog. Then you whisper something about suitable
rewards..like allowing me to go back to Earth and be with my wife
again. The dog chomped down.
The night they put the tattoos on was pure torment. I don't
know what was in the ink, but it *hurt*. And you stood there, by
the pillar, smirking as that old Chinese guy tattooed me,
murmurring all the while. I get up, put on my clothes, and then
you walk over to me. "Never forget I own you, Stone." you
The incident with the murderous, insane priest was
unbelievable. I don't know why, but I kept feeling as if I had to
fight you, try to hold my soul. The soul you hold captive in your
Every time we meet, you look at me strangely. Like I'm a
rare species you've never seen before. I wonder why, then I
forget in the heat of the chase. And then when I think about it
later, I realize I've seen that look before. When you looked at
one of your old favorites.
You own my soul. I don't want you to touch anything else.
And then I remember. I can protest, I can complain...but the
truth is, you own my captive soul. And you can do anything you
wish to me. You showed me, that night when you pushed me off the
That just adds to my incentive to hunt the rest down..be
with my wife again. Because I don't know what I'd say if you
demanded *that* from me. Deep inside my soul, I'm frightened of
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