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.
"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 young Ash'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."
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.
"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 young Ash'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."