Brimstone drabble: "No!"
Title: No!
Fandom: Brimstone.
Word count: 217.
Cannon Characters: Zeke.
Author: Keenir.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: the series.
Summary: Mission accomplished. Problem discovered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Had any of it even been real? was the thought running through the mind of Ezekiel Stone when he opened his eyes and saw that his forearm was bare. There were still hairs there, and skin. But no tattoos. Not a trace -
Anywhere, he discovered when he threw back the bedsheets to look at the rest of his body. None of the names of the Escapees remained written on his skin. But there was the scent of sulfur in the air, and hot air throughout the room, air that wasn’t cooled by the overhead fan.
And, as pain shot through his skull, he had a hangover. Been a while, savoring the pain. Pain, a sensation largely absent while he’d been on the job, hunting down the Escapees.
Sitting up, he grabbed the paper from the nightstand. Something to read… The newspaper was open to the obituaries. Eyes skimming the names listed, he stopped when he came to one he knew…and dropped the paper, letting himself collapse back into bed.
He’d done his duty and gathered up the Escapees, sending them to Hell, so that he could have a mortal life once more, so he could reunite with his wife.
Now that she was dead - killed in a car accident, the paper said - what was there for him?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End
Fandom: Brimstone.
Word count: 217.
Cannon Characters: Zeke.
Author: Keenir.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: the series.
Summary: Mission accomplished. Problem discovered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Had any of it even been real? was the thought running through the mind of Ezekiel Stone when he opened his eyes and saw that his forearm was bare. There were still hairs there, and skin. But no tattoos. Not a trace -
Anywhere, he discovered when he threw back the bedsheets to look at the rest of his body. None of the names of the Escapees remained written on his skin. But there was the scent of sulfur in the air, and hot air throughout the room, air that wasn’t cooled by the overhead fan.
And, as pain shot through his skull, he had a hangover. Been a while, savoring the pain. Pain, a sensation largely absent while he’d been on the job, hunting down the Escapees.
Sitting up, he grabbed the paper from the nightstand. Something to read… The newspaper was open to the obituaries. Eyes skimming the names listed, he stopped when he came to one he knew…and dropped the paper, letting himself collapse back into bed.
He’d done his duty and gathered up the Escapees, sending them to Hell, so that he could have a mortal life once more, so he could reunite with his wife.
Now that she was dead - killed in a car accident, the paper said - what was there for him?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End