Third Time Around
By Angel

Written for the "Picture is Worth a Thousand Words" Challenge


The swimming pool sparkled in the California sunshine. The immaculate yard around its concrete perimeter led
to a stucco mansion set well back from the street. A hedge-maze, green from liberal watering, stretched away
into the distance. An avenue of poplars lined the path to the house.

The scruffy man in the battered coat could not have looked more out of place if he were a freshly-built snowman.
His companion lounged on one of the blue and white pool chairs, his fluffy white robe and flip-flops making him the
picture of indolent indulgence.

“Nice hunting, Ezekiel.” Lucifer tipped his sunglasses down his nose and smiled at Stone. “Very nice, indeed.” He
gestured to the trio of pool chairs, which, if this had been a Peckinpah picture, would be messily draped with
bloody corpses.

Stone just stood quietly. It had been a busy day. Six more tattoos had burned themselves off his skin in the last hour as
he sent the damned back to Hell, their bodies wisping away to nothingness. He didn’t need to breathe, but did it anyway
just to calm himself and remind his jaw to unclench.

“Yet again, she eluded you.” The devil tsked and shook his head. “Oh do sit down, Ezekiel, you’re making me nervous.”
When Stone sat down, Lucifer stretched and basked. “Remind you of home? Sitting by the Lake of Burning Sulphur and
watching the damned souls that tried to clamber out?”

Stone just glared. Once he was in this sort of mood, Lucifer could only be gotten rid of by ignoring him until he got bored.
Unfortunately, fallen angels did not bore easily.

“You did your share of clambering, as I recall.” Lost in pleasant reminiscence, Lucifer slid his glasses back up his nose and
 stretched a bit more. A sun-foil materialized and he angled it to reflect off his cheekbones.

“So, where did she go?”

“The lovely Ashur is off again on her own adventure, spreading serpents and discontent wherever she treads. You should
know that by now, Ezekiel.” The sun-foil vanished. “Her minion at the gate warned her by intercom, just before you shot his
eyes out, and off she slithered.”

“Says one wily serpent of another.”

“Ezekiel, you wound me.” The crestfallen look was marred by the demonic smirk still lingering at the edges of his mouth.

“Save the puppy-dog look for someone who buys is. Where did she go?”

“No telling. You know, after all these millennia in Hell, she is quite capable of shape-shifting. She very literally slithered away,
into one of the many snake dens under the hedge maze. She’ll stay there, until we go and she thinks it’s safe.” He relaxed
again on the chaise.

“And then I get to track her down again.”

“Oh cheer up! You’re down to the last thirteen. Think of it, Ezekiel. One hundred damned souls: killers, disease spreaders,
thieves and more, all sent back to Hell. None of them troubling the living any more.”

His only response was a splash from the pool. Lucifer opened his eyes. A pile of shabby clothes sat on one of the blue and
white plastic chairs.

Stone dove deep and sat calmly at the bottom of the deep end, taking a page from Ashur. Either the devil would join him,
unlikely since water didn’t carry sound very well, or go away. Once he left, Stone would get on with his hunt.

Thirteen more souls. Thirteen tattoos to burn off his skin, and then he would be free and alive once more. Rosalyn was still
unmarried. If he worked quickly, he might have her back within a month.

He sat and thought of his laughing dark-haired wife, not noticing that the day had turned to night and the moon had risen.
When he surfaced, the devil was nowhere to be seen, but Ashur was lounging on one of the plastic chairs, basking in the
full moon’s light.

“Hello, Zeke. I’ve been waiting.” Her voice was honey and fire.

“Why?”

She laughed. “Because I know you, Detective Stone. You’ve hesitated twice on the kill. And I’ve no reason to think you won’t
for a third time. It’s not your Rosalyn you really want.” She swayed toward him, silver in the moonlight, like an idol of her
heathen gods.

“It’s not you I want.”

Ashur laughed at him. “We want the same thing, Stone. Him.”

“You think so?”

“And he wants us. You know that. Can’t you see it in his eyes? I’ve watched him with you. He loves you, Stone. Loves you as
only the damned can truly love, embracing the pain and betrayal along with the passion.”

“Really?”

“He loves you as he loved me. As he has loved no other, save for his spiteful God.”

Stone shook his head. Ashur was between him and his gun. There was nothing handy to use on her. He steeled himself.

“I lied.” He turned on the charm that had always worked on Roz. Ashur was vain and pleased by her ability to attract men. He played
into her hands, by stepping closer and touching her arm.

“I knew it. What pallid mortal could suffice after you’ve tasted fire?”

He caught her face in his hands and kissed her. She was startled by the display of passion but recovered quickly. As she felt Stone’s
palms tense on her cheeks, she saw his plan for what it was, and jerked away.

His thumbs closed on empty air instead of her eyes. He stood still and watched the large snake that was slithering away from the
pool into the immaculate shrubbery.

With a shrug, Stone put his clothes back on. Ashur Badatku would come back into his orbit again, and he would kill her. Three times,
Peter denied before the cock crowed. Three empty chairs at the pool. Three and three more missing corpses from his hunt.

Fourth time would pay for all.

He shrugged on his coat, checked his gun and slipped away into the Los Angeles night.