Brimstone And Ashes

by Danii

Fandom: Brimstone/Evil Dead Trilogy

Summary: One of the Damned have a score to settle with a certain clerk in Deerborn.

Distribution: Anyone who wants it. Please take it.

Disclaimer: I own no one here, though I'd mortgage my house to get the cop or the clerk. But it wouldn't be wise to bargain with a certain someone for the cop, would it?

Rating: PG13 (language)

Feedback: PLEASE!!! I need it!!!

NOTE: I'm messing around with the time line a little, okay?

QUESTION: Can you tell that I'm used to writing "Xander-babble"?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: There's a surprise to this story, a little crossover surprise later on, however I will leave you to figure out what it is. Those who know, please don't tell. Anyway, as this is my first fic in this fandom, please be kind. I might make mistakes...

And now:

BRIMSTONE AND ASHES

By Danii

"Wake up, Stone..."

I've gotten used to sleeping alone in a cold bed inside of an even colder apartment. I've gotten used to waking up to the sound of an alarm clock instead of to the voice of the woman I love, and I've even gotten used to not sleeping at all. But never, till the day that I...er...never will I get used to the voice of the Devil whispering in my ear for me to get the hell out of bed and get back to work. I'll also never get to like it. And he knows that.

So when I turned to him with my normal expression of loathing and aggravation, all he had to give back to me was his constant sly smile.

"Morning..." I grumbled to the self-proclaimed (and rightly so) King of the big nasty burny place down south, which earned me an even wider smile. Goody.

"Chipper this morning, I can see..." he commented with a smirk, "And that's good. Means you're up and ready to go. Ready to get a few more of my little lost souls, eh?"

Tiredly, I looked up and raised an eyebrow to the only other person in the room. "Yeah. Sure."

"Oh, buck up, Ezekiel!" the Devil exclaimed with a pat on the bed as he got up and circled around to face me, "Don't think of it as a job...think of it as the opportunity that it really is! How many souls get this kind of chance, do you think?"

I answered this question by getting out of bed and grunting. True, I wasn't really that groggy, but old habits die hard...harder than even I did.

"How eloquent..." said the Devil with another grin at me. Damn, but I hate that stupid grin. "Makes me glad that I picked you..."

"Thanks..." I muttered, meaning it just SO much.

"Yes, well...now that you mention it-"

"I didn't."

"Well, I just did," the Devil continued, as if I hadn't said a thing, "There's a soul about to wreak havoc a little farther away than the normal. All the way in Michigan, in fact."

This turned my head. Usually, I practically ran into the Damned. I almost never had to actively seek them out, at least not in the travel-hundreds-of-miles way. So obviously there was something strange about my newest 'hunt'. Something that was important to my so called 'employer'

"What's so special about this one that I'll be traveling?" I asked, genuinely curious. I knew that, just like any other collector whose lost his 'gems', the Devil had ones that he especially wanted back. And I knew that he wouldn't make me go to such distances without good reason. So I wanted to know what I was up against.

My answer was silence, which told me that this one was very important. He never wants to tell me about the really painful ones...like Ashur. Or if he does, he blusters and shouts to cover up just how much it bothers him. And I usually leave him alone about it, since, as much I don't like him, I kinda feel for him.

I mean, sure, he's the Devil. Satan. The Great Serpent. The King of Hell, Lucifer, the Beast. But he didn't start that way. At first, he had a cushy spot up in Heaven as one of God's most trusted, and then he disagreed with the Big Guy, which caused him to get tossed down to his current accomidations. Yeah, my friend here was the one who screwed up, but for a God who says so much about forgiveness, He was pretty harsh.

Especially since, as my friend has said before, God was the only thing he ever loved.

However, I knew that, despite these considerations, I needed to get more information on my most recent assignment. So, gently, perhaps more gently then I've ever spoken to him, I asked.

"What's so special about this one?"

But he again didn't answer, prefering to get up and walk around my apartment like some demented Sherlock Holmes who can't find release in his violin. Then he turned to me, that familiar grin back on his face, yet somehow not right. Not real. For the first time since I'd seen it, the Devil's grin had no joy in it.

"She was one of the most depraved souls in the 113..." he said quietly, his voice lacking the bravado and glee it usually held when talking to me, "A truly sick little harlot. Her name I can't even remember, but during her time on earth, she was tainted-"

"Tainted?" I asked as I grabbed my shirt from off of the chair it had been resting on.

"Yes, tainted," he answered me patiently, "I know it's going to crush your enormous ego, my fine dead detective, but there are far more things in Heaven and Hell than even you know about...things that are so dark, even I try not to think of them."

"What? Some sort of Super-Boogeyman?"

"Worse, Ezekiel..." the Devil told me, completely serious, "Much worse. Things that should never have been released in this reality."

Now he had me confused. What was he talking about? Boogeymen, alternate realities? Where was he going with all of this? And why was he taking so long to tell me. Usually he quips, tells me just the bare basics, then leaves.

"Anyway," he continued as if the whole mini-conversation had never happened, "She seemed fine for a while after her experience, but after a while began to go mad over being 'betrayed' as she saw it, by her lover. This madness became worse and worse, and as it ran it's course, she succeeded in killing every soul she knew, saying that they were all accomplaces to her lover's schemes. More than 200 people lost to her wrath."

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? And? I've heard, and dealt with, worse."

Now the Devil shook his head. "No, my friend, you have not. I'm not going to tell you any more abou it, though, despite my own urges to do so. All I will do is wish you luck, and lead you to where you should be going."

"Which is?" I asked, back to my sarcasm and annoyance. If he could go back to normal, so could I.

"Deerborn, Michigan." he told me a grin on his face, but without one in his voice. Then he disappeared.

I shrugged to no one imparticular, then got my pants on. However, after brushing my teeth and running my hand through the fuzz I refer to as my hair, I realized something.

"How the hell am I supposed to get to Michigan?"

PART 2

However, as I exited my apartment, I found out that this little problem had been solved for me by the Supreme Annoyance.

The street that I walked out onto was not my familiar Los Angeles. No, instead of crowded streets and loud noises, I found a small main road with a few couples and families walking peacefully in the sun. Shocked, I turned around, thinking I'd see my building, but as I looked up to the sign, I instead read the faded but clean words of "The Deerborn Inn".

I glared downward.

"You're a real asshole, you know that?"

However, for once, the Devil choose not to appear again over my little outburst, which left me standing in the middle of a small Michigan town. Alone, confused, groggy, aggravated, and above all, tired of the bullshit that is my afterlife.

Just about normal for me.

But you don't get your job done just standing around, and you don't get breakfast that way either, so I began looking around for somewhere to eat. Sure, sure...I don't need to eat, but after more than thirty years of consuming food in the morning, it's kinda hard to break the habit...even if you've been dead for fifteen more.

Anyway, after a second I saw a small cafe down the street that looked open, so I made my way there, all the while looking at the tiny town I had been unknowingly transported to.

Overall, Deerborn looked like a perfectly nice little hamlet. The streets were clean, the weather temperate, and the stores all seemed well-kept. One place imparticular grabbed my attention by the reins and refused to let go, just because it was just so huge.

Halfway to the cafe, I looked up to the gigantic building that seemed to almost tower over the rest of the town. From the sign tastefully placed on the side of the building, I could see a logo that read "Shop smart...shop S-Mart!" in big bright lettering.

Wow. I hadn't seen one of those monstrosities for a long time. Those huge wholesale stores that catered to the surburban crowd, creating heaven on earth for bored housewives, and...er...a big bill for the husbands of said wives.

I remembered one time, just after we'd gotten married, when my wife had dragged me to one of these places to help pick out some things for our home. We had been planning on kids at the time, so we didn't necessarily want the finest quality things. Rosalyn, having had three younger brothers, knew the kind of destructive power small children possess, and I'd listened to her talk about all the damage the three boys had done to her mother's china and other assorted parts of the house as we drove to the Wal-Mart near her old home. We laughed the entire time.

Before I could bring up any more painful memories, I turned my eyes from the large department store back to the cafe. I didn't need to remember things I couldn't have. I didn't need to think of the things I'd lost. What I needed was to get to that cafe, suck down a cup of strong coffee, and find the Damned soul that was about to cause trouble in this little berg.

The first two were simple, and as I'd hoped, the coffee was mind-shatteringly strong. I took my time to order, even though I always get the same thing, and the young waitress who was working my table took my order with a chipper smile, as if I hadn't made her wait for five minutes for me to work out what I was eating. As a reward for her waiting, I gave her a smile as I ordered.

"Canadian bacon and eggs...sunnyside up, if you please..." I told her pleasantly, a feat I would have had a great deal of more trouble with had I not had two cups of that coffee in me. Alive or dead, I needed my coffee.

"No problem, sir..." she said with a sweet smile as she took my menu, "And anything for your friend?"

What? My fri-

I turned to the seat next to me at the table and rolled my eyes even before I saw him. You'd think after a year and a half, I'd be used to this crap.

"Hello." I told him quickly. Then I looked back at the waitress.

"Nothing for him, ma'am..." I said cooly, glaring at the figure beside me out the corner of my eye. However, being him, he couldn't just let it be.

"Actually," said the familiar voice which had awakened me earlier, "I'd love a nice bagel. With cream cheese and lox, if you please."

"All righty, sir..." the young waitress told him with a smile, "That'll be done in around five minutes, okay?"

"Yeah, sure..." I said, keeping the friendly voice despite the fact that my decent mood had been ruined. However, the second she left, I rounded on the figure beside me.

"Nice trick..." I hissed. He gave me an amused smile. "But from now on, please let me know that you're transporting me across the country BEFORE you do it?"

"Ah, but what's the fun in that?" the Devil answered, "The expression on your face as you walked out was priceless, if I may say so."

"As if you really care what I say so," I grumbled back to him. For some reason, grumbling and snapping seems to be my most common form of communication with the Devil. Wonder why.

"Oh, but I do, Ezekiel..." he assured me with an expression that told me the exact opposite, "I really do."

I stared at him for a second, basking in the glow of one of the biggest lies I'd ever heard. So THAT'S why he's Prince... However, since I knew that argueing with him over something like that wouldn't work and would waste a good deal of time and effort, I decided to ask him some serious questions.

"So what's up with this one that you're being so...helpful? I mean, you transported me to the place I needed to be, you told me about the soul's history..." I let it hang, leaving him to answer the unasked question.

"None of your concern..." he answered smoothly, with just enough gruffness to tell me not to ask again. Yes, after a year and a half, I've come to be able to read the Devil fairly well, though I don't make the mistake of thinking that I could ever truly understand him. Parts, maybe, but never the whole package. And I didn't want to. I'm pretty sure that if I did, I wouldn't be able to hate him.

"Then at least tell me this," I continued, sipping the rest of my coffee with pleasure, "Why a bagel?"

Wow, I caught the Devil off guard. Brownie points for me.

"I happen to like them..." the immortal being answered with a slight frown, "And being a native New Yorker, I would think you'd understand."

"But a bagel?" I persisted, somehow keeping a straight face,"You're the Devil! You're supposed to pick something...I don't know, less mundane?"

"I got it with lox..." the Devil answered quickly.

To which I just sighed tiredly, like a man who'd just seen his friend agree to a blind date.

He snorted.

There are very few joys in your death when you've been damned to Hell, just as there are very few victories. I, during the course of my work, have come to appreciate the very very small ones he seems to allow during these little conversations. So much so that we've taken to calling each other 'friend'. True, I would never trust him like I would a friend, but after all I've been through, he's the closest thing to one (other than Father Horn) that I seemed to have. Besides, even if he was the King of Evil, he was rather witty and often entertaining when he got it into his mind to be.

However, I was unable to finish my bagel tirade and annoy him even further because, as I emerged from my thoughts, he was no where to be seen. Like always, he'd left me...with the bill as well.

But all was not bad, since that young waitress came a few seconds later with my breakfast. Hot, greasy, and bathed in cholesterol, the food looked absolutely delicious.

It was times like this that being dead isn't quite so horrible.

Yet as she put the plate before me, a nervous expression crossed her face.

"Um, sir?" she said quickly, neatening a part of the table that hadn't looked messy in the first place, "There's a little problem with your friend's order."

"Hmm?" I asked intellegently, my face already full of the hot Canadian bacon she'd put down moments before.

"You see...we only had one bagel left, it being a bit late for breakfast and all, and I was gonna give that one to him. But for some reason, it disappeared, lox and all. I'm really sorry-"

"Don't worry about it," I said as I swallowed down the warm food, "He left anyway."

"Oh good..." she answered, relieved, "Then I'll just take it off of your bill-"

"Nah," I told her, waving my hand, "Keep it on."

I saw her confused look.

"Just...keep it on. Wouldn't want you getting in trouble for losing food now, would I?"

Another look of relief crossed her face, and she graced me with a smile for me kindness. However, I had another purpose to making friends with her.

"Say," I read her name-tag, "Jenny, have you seen anything weird here recently? Any unexplained deaths or strangers come by here?"

Jenny smiled nervously, then shook her head. "No, sir. Other than you, we haven't had any strangers around here, at least not that I've seen."

"What about strange deaths?" I persisted, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

But then a bizarre expression flashed by her face. The waitress looked as if she wanted to tell me something, yet for some reason she held back.

"Um...nothing all that strange around here..." Jenny told me woodenly, her tone informing me more than her words, "But if you're looking for anything, the best place to look is over at the S-Mart. They got just abour everything over there. And I mean everthing. I should know. I work there as well, assistant manager in fact."

"Then what are you doing waitressing here?" I questioned, trying to calm her down by switching the subject just a little. There was something odd in the little town, and I was starting to get genuinely frightened by it.

"Cause my parent's own the place and they need help occasionally," the waitress told me simply with a true smile.

"And you're saying that I might find what I'm looking for over at the S-Mart?"

Yes, I was a bit skeptical, but wouldn't you be? I mean, please...shopping for damned souls at a wholesale store? A little bit more than even I could handle yet.

"Yes sir..." she told me, completely serious, "I guarantee that if you're looking for odd stuff, you'll find it there. Say Jenny sent you, and ask for Ash."

Ash? Oh dear G- er...S-...er...whoever's listening..

PART 3

Some sign of my distress must have shown itself on my face, because her expression immediately went from serious to frightened. At least I thought it was frightened.

"You...know Ashley?" she asked quietly, her head going down.

"No, I-"

"Well, you better not be trying to hurt him!" Jenny erupted, flinging her head back to glare at me hatefully. "Poor Ash has been through enough crap with Linda and Scotty and me even! I will not let some scruffy asshole hurt him any more, not after what he's done for me! Not with what he means to me! If you try anything, I'll beat you to death with the chair you're sitting in!"

I immediately backed off, startled by her outburst but also relieved when she repeated mentioned that Ash was a 'he' and not a she. That meant it wasn't...that it couldn't be...that there was no danger of it being...her.

But as relieved as I was, I had to calm her down. Something had set her off, and I had a feeling that all the things she'd mentioned were just the tip of the iceberg for this assignment.

"Look lady," I assured her, "I'm not trying to hurt your boyfriend, all right? I'm here to do a job, and that's all, okay? I just got scared for a second when you said Ash cause there's this other person with that name, a lady, who's caused me a heap of trouble in the past..."

This calmed her down as expected, but the strength of her outburst still shocked me. What on earth could have happened to her boyfriend over in that store that would have made her act like that. To all appearances, she was a rather sweet young girl.

"Sorry..." she muttered finally, "It's just..."

Jenny took a breath in, then sighed tiredly.

"It's just that bad things seem to happen to him, okay? And after what happened last time, I don't want any more trouble. He's had enough, trust me. And even though he won't admit it sometimes, he lost more than his hand in that damned cabin."

I grimaced as I heard about the hand, but my ears rung as I heard the word 'damned'. Sure, most people just use it to curse, but from the way it sounded, she was really saying it was damned. Maybe the Devil was trying to get a two for one deal again, and the psycho bitch he'd told me about wasn't my only target here.

"Really?" I asked, interested but not overly so. However, despite my attempt at playing it safe, she saw straight through me and got huffy again. Great.

"Look." she said plainly, "If you want to know more, I suggest you do as I told you and ask him. I wasn't there for all of it, I just got a taste of what he's dealt with, and I'd rather not talk about it. If you really aren't going to hurt him, and you do want to know any more, go over to the store and ask him about it, okay?"

I nodded, telling her that that was exactly what I planned on doing, then dropped the money for the meal and a hefty tip on the table. Quitely, I picked up my jacket from where I'd placed it on my chair, slipped it on, and started towards the store across the street. But as I was leaving, Jenny had yet another tidbit to tell me.

"Don't forget!" she shouted after me, "You hurt him, I swear...the chair!"

Since I couldn't think of any way to answer this, I simply turned and waved cheerily to her. She, in accordance with good manners, dropped the glare and did the same. It looked pleasant, if forced.

Well, better than death threats.

I turned back around to head to the store, the pit of my stomach churning. But, I figured, no use worrying till I got to speak to this 'Ash' character, whoever the hell he is. For all I know, he could have just had a lawnmower accident, the more logical side of my mind said to me. However, the part that I usually listened to, my intuition, told me that by going to talk to this guy, I was going to get alot more than I bargained for.

I walked into the store, which was plesantly air conditioned instead of the usual Siberian climate that exists in these places. For a few minutes, I wandered around, looking at the merchandise closest to the door, but after a while I just walked up to one of the clerks who was currently restocking the colored pencils in the children's area.

"Hello," I read her name card. I liked to address people by their names. Calling them 'you' or 'hey' always seemed a bit disrespectful. If they have to call me sir, I can at least call them by their names. Anyway, back from my rant, "Elyse."

"Hello, sir..." she replied, not quite as perky as Jenny had been before threatening to kill me, "Welcome to S-Mart. If you want to Shop Smart, Shop S-Mart. How may I help you?"

I ignored the bored tone and the meaningless words she spoke and got right down to what I needed.

"Could you direct me to, er, Ash?" I asked. Yeah, not so suave, but it's kinda strange asking for someone without even knowing their last name. When I was a cop, I'd refer to them by their last name or by their full name. I know, I know. I'm supposed to be this deadbeat (no pun intended) but it bothered me.

She didn't notice the hesitation in my question though because as I mentioned the name, her eyes lit up like Broadway. Obviously, there was something special about this guy. Women lighting up over him and threating to kill over him. Wish I had that effect. Usually they just raise their eyebrows for me.

"Oh, you mean Ash Williams? In Housewares?"

"Is there any other?" I asked in return, half joking assurance, half actual question.

"You got a point there, sir." she replied with a wink and a grin, "I can take you right to him, though he might be in the back right now reloading."

Reloading? What on earth could she mean?

"Anyway," she went on, not noticing my complete shock, "He's just this way, if you'd follow me. I never pass up a chance to see Ash."

Elyse started walking, and I followed, listening to her babble about her co-worker.

"Yeah, I mean, I know that he's Jenny's, right? But, like, there is no law that says you can't look, you know?"

"Yeah." I agreed half-heartedly. But she just kept on talking.

"I mean, he's such a great guy. A total hero. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, since you've been here before. You have been here before, right? Yeah, I'm sure that you do. Not to mention the fact that he's a total hottie. I mean, like, some of the other women don't like him cause he can get a bit arrogant, but considering, I think he's entitled to it."

On and on she went as she lead me through the store, jabbering on and on about this guy, having a full and complete conversation with herself. Well, she thought she was having it with me, but really she was answering all the questions while I listened to her talk and tried to figure out more about this 'Ash' person. Unfortunately, it was mostly talk about how hot he was, which didn't interest me at all.

"Anyway," Elyse said again as she stopped walking. I stopped as well. "This is Housewares."

I looked around. Seemed normal enough. I could see toasters and blenders, not to mention various other culinary contraptions that had probably been used in the past to torture people. However, I didn't see anyone there. But the young lady at my side fixed that little problem.

"Ash!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, "Ash, there's someone to see you!"

As she finished shouting, I heard footsteps from within one of the isles. Loud and brash, they echoed through the air, making me think that some huge guy with a chainsaw for an arm was about to come stomping into view. I mean, from his reputation, he had to be something special.

But what actually came out of the isle was a rather tall young man with dark wavy hair, a face full of thin scars, and a rather tired look on his handsome, if heavy-chinned, face. Carefully, I took in just who and what this guy was, and to my relief, I found that he was a perfectly normal living person. But two things struck me hard as I looked at him.

The first was the eyes. Goodness, but he looked tired. Not been-at-work-too-long tired, but seen-too-much tired, a kind of fatigue I was more than familiar with. Yet I could also see a spark within those brown eyes, one which told me that despite his apparent docility, he was a very dangerous man. It was something that I usually found within the Damned, even though I knew he wasn't one of them. A certain glint.

He might not have been to Hell, but he'd gone through something close.

The second thing which took my attention was his hand. Or rather, his lack of hand. I'd known that something had happened to it from what Jenny had said, however, I was unprepared for the metal glove that was attached to his arm. Seemed like some sort of medieval gauntlet or something, and from what I could see, it moved like a hand.

However, I was pulled away from my assesment of the man by the man himself, his loud baritone breaking my thoughts.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

PART 4

"Ur..." I said eloquently, a nervous grin crossing my face. I really didn't know what I could possibly ask him without sounding like a complete lunitic. I mean, what was I supposed to ask? 'Would you happen to know someone who died and came back?" He'd hit me over the head with that metal hand of his as soon as answer me, and I wouldn't blame him. Besides, I wasn't too keen on the idea of Elyse listening in to our conversation either, but I didn't know how to tell her to scram.

He must have sensed my discomfort somehow, because almost immediately the S-Mart clerk looked to his co-worker with a small grin and asked if she could possibly leave. And Elyse, with that dreamy smile that teenagers seem to have practiced to perfection, agreed and walked off. Jeez.

"So," the man called Ash started again with a knowing grin, "Whatcha need here? Did one of those bastards cause some trouble in your store or something? Or are you here over that property damage I did to Hilliman's the other day?"

He sighed tiredly as I tried to figure out just what the hell he was talking about.

"Look," he began to explain, "I thought I already told you people that I'd forgo the fee since I destroyed your living room, okay? You'd think that being your neighbor for the last two and a half years-"

"Wait." I said at last, holding my hand up to stop any more confusing babble, "I'm not from the Hilliman's, all right?"

The large, scar-filled face twisted up in a look of confusion, and I realized once more as I thought over what he had said that this was going to be much harder, and much more bizarre, then I could have ever imagined.

"Then who are you?" Ash asked with a suspicious glance. Immediately, his metal hand reached back to grip the back of a shotgun? that he had on his back. But, my mind argued, it couldn't be a gun, could it? They didn't allow stuff like that in a store like this. At least, they hadn't the last time I'd been in one.

Sure, no one had strip-searched me and taken my trusty sidearm, but it was kinda hard to miss a double-barrel strapped to a guy's back.

"Name's Zeke. Zeke Stone," I introduced myself carefully, pulling out my badge and showing it to him as if to verify my identity, " And I was just wondering if you could help me with a case that I'm working on."

He looked at the badge for a second, then pulled that rough gaze up to meet my eyes. There it stayed for a good three seconds as he read what he could from me. I stopped breathing as he did this, nervous that this department store clerk was going to figure out that I was a dead man. Literally. But after those three seconds, the brown scanners pulled away from me.

He knew something, but not everything.

"What kinda case?" Ash asked cautiously as he pulled his hand away from his weapon, much to my relief. True, I was hard to kill, but a shotgun blast to my face at point zero range was one of the things that could do the job.

"A rather...strange case." I told him honestly, even though there wasn't exactly any more I could tell him, since I didn't know any more. Any more that I could tell. You don't exactly go around telling people about psychotic Damned souls who murdered hundreds.

"Really?" he asked me.

"Yeah."

He looked at me again, and I realized that I would have to pull my trump card.

"Jenny sent me here..."

And this statement changed everything. At once, that cold stare turned warm, and the rigid stance he'd assumed melted to a normal pose. A wide grin graced his lips, lighting up the scar-filled face into something that no longer made me nervous. I assumed that was the purpose to it.

Then he grabbed me by the shoulder with that metal hand of his, dragged me to the break room of the store, and sat me down at the rickety table that was back there, taking his seat across the table from me a second later. Now, sitting down, I realized just what a big guy he really was. Not just tall, but all muscle and wide shoulders. The squeeze he'd had on my arm told me alot too.

Sure, he wasn't as strong as I was due to my stay in Hell, but he wasn't a pushover.

However, I didn't focus on this too long, because as I had been taking in that, he'd been talking.

"-send you to me?"

"Huh?" I asked, honestly unaware of what he'd said.

"I said," he repeated politely enough, "Why did Jenny send you to me?"

"Well," I admitted, laying my hands out on the table, "I asked her if she'd seen any strangers in town, or if she'd noticed anything weird here recently, and she told me to come to you."

"Really?" the clerk asked again, his eyebrow rising nearly to his hairline.

"Yeah." I told him honestly. Jeez, paranoid much?

The man called Ash stared at me again for another minute, then leaned back into his chair to think. I don't know how he did it, considering how cheap the chairs were, but I figured that it took practice and a lot of balance, so I didn't even try. But finally, after a bit, he leaned back in and he got a strange expression on his face.

"Well," he said, putting his own hands out on the table, almost copying me, "That depends on what you consider weird, friend. I mean, you being from the city and all-"

"How'd you know?" I asked, surprised and upset. I was pretty sure I hadn't said where I was from, and despite the skill I'd developed over the last year at detecting the Damned, I couldn't help but get worried at this knowledge.

He snorted, then gave me a look, like I'd asked if he knew how to count to three.

"I read it on the badge," The scarred man told me simply, which made me feel rather silly. Silly dead-man, my mind laughed at me in a strange parody of a certain cereal rabbit, panic attacks are for the living.

I examined that thought, then realized something. I should of had more coffee.

"Anway," Ash continued before I could ponder my choice of inner discussion any further, "As I was saying, it depends on your definition of weird. Now, if you're asking about how some of the women's shoes kept on going missing, I'll remind you that we already fired Frank for it, and you can remind the main office that it's been dealt with locally. I mean, it's not like we knew that he was a kleptomaniac crossdresser or anything..."

Now I looked at him.

"But," he went on quickly, obviously sensing that Frank and his shoe fetish weren't my objective, "If you're asking about the possessions that occur regularly in this town, the reason behind the dead rising from their graves occasionally, or wondering why this store has had fifty-seven attacks in the last five and a half years by 'PCP-crazed punks' that look curiously like the dead, decaying bodies of perfectly normal customers...why, then you've got the right guy."

Part 5

I froze.

Despite years of police training, even more time of field experience, and what seemed like centuries of Hell that taught me to avoid doing so, I froze.

But then, what in all the fiery circles (been there, done that...) am I supposed to do? The guy just told me...he just said...

I put up my hands in a plea for a few seconds since I didn't trust my mouth to work correctly, and Ash, being the rather decent guy that he was, nodded and told me to take my time. Then I got up and ran to one of the bathrooms back there.

"Get your sulfur-smelling ass over here right now!" I hissed in the small room that smelled even worse then said sulfur. I wondered what could have died in the room, then thought about what the guy sitting at the table had told me and I stopped wondering in an effort to keep my breakfast. v "Now, I know you are not talking to me, Ezekiel..." said the Devil, appearing right behind me to whisper into my ear. I didn't even flinch, long past being surprised by his tricks, "We've gotten closer over the time you've been working for me, but I will not be called so rudely by a sorry little soul like you."

There was a dangerous sound to his voice, but I was too freaked and angry to even care.

"Yeah, well, I thought we were past the whole 'surprise me with crazy, unbelievable crap for fun' stage." I snapped at him, spinning on my heel so that I could see that familiar face. "I mean, what are you trying to do? I can't get a heart attack, so why even try?"

"Because it's amusing..." he replied, walking around me in the tiny space. "And besides, I told you not to be so cocky, friend. You were the one who told me you'd 'seen, and dealt with worse'..."

I growled beneath my breath. He ignored it.

"For which I really ought to add vanity to that list of sins," the Devil continued, "But I'm sure that's not why you called me here, is it?"

"No, it's not..." I replied, keeping my voice as calm and quiet as I could keep it. It wouldn't help matters if Ash thought that I was talking to myself in the bathroom.

"No," he agreed, "You called because you were wondering just what in all the world is going on in this little town that causes the dead to rise, and normal people to turn into horrible monsters, among other things..."

"Yeah," I told him patiently, "That would help."

"The Damned..." he told me simply with something that might have been a smile if it had reached his eyes. Yet it did not. I wondered why, then pushed the thought to the side in favor of being ticked at him.

"Huh?"

"The Damned..." he repeated, "The Damned soul that you are to send back for me. She is the source of the trouble that has kept the Force alive, the reason why it has plauged this town and it's inhabitants for five and a half years."

"The Force?" I asked skeptically, "As in 'use it, Luke'?"

The Devil rolled his eyes at me, then looked me straight in the face. "No, Ezekiel. The Force I refer to is not some harmless Hollywood idiocy, but a power that, as I told you before, should never have entered this world."

His voice was...till this day, I'll never be able to describe the tone that was in his voice as he spoke to me, but the closest I can come to describing it is horror. Complete and utter horror. And that scared me more than anything has ever scared me before.

"Because of what He did to me, I try to get every one of those living souls into my domain. I try my very hardest to desecrate everything God ever created, making it filth and horrors. But the very reason that I do such things is because I know the value of them. I know the value of each soul, the power in each thought, the glory of each bit of what He created.

"But that Force. That Force doesn't care. It takes, it corrupts, it destroys...for no reason. Nothing is of value to it. Nothing."

And then he was silent, staring at me with those strange eyes that had never had a human soul behind them. Those eyes that were making more and more sense. More then they had any right to.

I looked away. I had to hate him.

"And..." my voice faultered, "And...you're trusting me to help destroy this thing?"

"Not destroy..." he told me as he began pacing again, not meeting my eyes. I think he knew that I needed to hate him, that I needed our snapping and our hatred to keep going at times.

Sometimes, he knows too much.

"Not destroy," the Devil repeated, "Just send back. Return it to where it belongs, where it should have stayed for all eternity."

"Return it?" I asked, still stunned too much to get snarky.

"Yes, Ezekiel," he told me in a growl, "Return it."

"How?" I questioned, my mind reverting back to it's normal mode of work.

"Start with enlisting that young man's help. He has some experience with it." the Devil advised with a straight face, "Then laugh."

"Huh?" I asked in confusion again. Jeez, he hadn't confused me this bad since the very beginning.

"Laugh," he told me seriously, "Or you will go mad far before you complete your task of returning the Damned soul."

Part 6

I walked out of the bathroom to find Ash standing in front of the door with an expression on his face that was half puzzlement half suspicion, and I couldn't blame him for either.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked me straight out. Direct guy...I like that. No beating about the bush. But then again, I guess if what the Devil had said was true, he didn't have time for crap like that.

"The Devil." I told him shortly. I didn't have time for it either.

His eyebrow rose slowly to that near-hairline position once more as he gave me another once over.

"In the bathroom?" the clerk asked. No skepticism, just curiousity.

"Yeah." I replied with a shrug, "Couldn't think of any other private spot in short notice."

"Oh."

"Uh-huh."

There was a moment of silence between us as he absorbed the information I'd just given him.

"So...what did you talk about?" Ash asked a moment later. Again, no disbelief.

"Just exactly what's been going on in this town..." I answered cooly.

"Oh." he said with a nod, taking it a lot better than I would have, "And uh...just why were you talking to the Devil?"

"Cause I work for him." I told the the S-Mart clerk honestly, "I collect escaped souls for him."

There was another few seconds of silence as he looked me over for what had to be the millionth time. It was starting to get annoying, but considering the kind of conversation we were having, I could understand.

"Oh." he said again, this time a little more unsure, "And uh, just why are you here then? Who's soul are you here to take? I mean, I hope that you're not here to try and collect me, friend, cause as nice as you seem to be, I will not be going anywhere without a fight."

And then in a movement quicker than a normal human being had any right to move, he pulled out his shotgun and shoved the barrel right into my nose.

"Got that?" he asked with a glare, "I won my freedom from those things with Linda's love, and I will NOT be taken by those things again!"

I stared at him for a second before his words penetrated. At first I thought that the Devil had been screwing around with me, and that Ash was the damned soul, but as I heard the rest, I figured out that what he was refering to was the experience which had transformed him into what he was today, what had taken his hand and most of his sanity. Not Hell, but damn close.

So carefully, I pushed the shotgun out of my face and backed off. Luckily, he wasn't as trigger happy as he appeared and so chose not to blast my face all the way back to the fiery pit. I appreciated this greatly, and expressed this with a wide, albeit weak, smile.

"I'm not here to take you, okay?" I explained, putting my hands up to show my honesty. "In fact, the Devil told me that I ought to...join forces with you...since you have experience with this shit."

"And you trust the Devil?" Ash asked skeptically.

I shrugged. When you say it that way..."He's not so bad once you get to know him," I said, amazed at the words that were coming out of my mouth, "Well, actually, he is, but he usually doesn't pull stupid crap when it concerns my work for him."

"Like any annoying manager..." the clerk said, cracking a smile.

"Yeah, pretty much..." I told him with a smiliar twist of my lips.

Another moment of silence passed, and then I broke it.

"So," I asked nervously, "Would you be interested in helping me find my Damned soul?"

My answer was a twirling of the shotgun, and it's return to the holster on his back, not to mention a hand held out in an offer to shake.

"And the Devil told you that all the attacks were caused by the Damned soul that's here?" he questioned with his hand in the air. But I never told him that, so how did he-

"I listened at the door..." he told me with one of those grins, "Figured that it'd save time."

"So you heard..."

"Nothing I didn't already know or need to know." he told me quickly with not even the slightest bit of embarrassment.

"Oh." Now it was my turn to use today's favorite word.

"One of reasons I'm agreeing to this is because you had the pure cajones to call him a 'sulfur-smelling ass'..." Ash informed me with an expression that told me he was holding in laughter.

And that's when I put my hand in his and shook, wondering just what I was getting into THIS time.

END PART 6