Binsfield's Seven

It was hot. The air was dry, and it was unbelievably sunny for being so late in the afternoon.

And while most of the seven figures that had gathered in the middle of the Arizona desert stood quietly, waiting patiently, a few of them paced slowly in the loose soil, causing white dust clouds to float about.

Asmodeus, the tallest of the group stretched his pudgy, gray limbs up toward the clear blue sky, showcasing his height as he glanced at the group before him. He then settled his blood red eyes on one friend and smirked. He knew that Satan always did have a flair for theatrics. "I won't ask why you called us here Satan," began Asmodeus. "But this better be good," he warned as he raised a round finger and pointed at him.

Satan looked back at him and reached up to rub a small pointy, yellow horn protruding from the left-side of his forehead, leaving the matching horn on the other side untouched. He then flexed his large twisted bat-like wings, letting the thin red membranes stretched across them warm in the sun. Looking at the unruly band of demons before him, he then turned to Asmodeus and grinned. "Asmo!" he said through yellow jagged teeth, raising his arms in a grand gesture. "Dear pal, trust me this'll be GREAT!" he emphasized as his coal black eyes twinkled in excitement.

"Oh?" asked Mammon, the largest of the bunch. His bluish gray skin stretched tightly over his bulging belly, causing his purplish veins to become more visible. With a yawn to reveal rotten green razor sharp teeth, he too spread out gnarled limbs and then stamped his oversized feet in the loose soil. Small clouds billowed up around him as he blinked black eyes back at Satan.

Beelzebub, who'd finally stopped pacing sat down heavily on a nearby boulder and ran a wiry hand through his thick charcoal gray fur. He was warm and had decided he was absorbing way too much of the sun's rays. He looked at everyone warily and said, "well, whatever warped and twisted plan our dear brother has cooked up, I say we find some shade and get a drink." He reflexively flapped the tiny wings just above his shoulder blades and scratched behind his pointy ears and grinned.

"Hear, hear," agreed Mammon heartily as he clapped his fat fingers together. Walking over to where Beelzebub was seated, he wiggled and pushed his way down to sit down next to him. Beelzebub glanced at the larger demon in irritation but acquiesced, moving over to give Mammon more space.

"There's always time to savor some 'spirits'," added Mammon joyfully oblivious to Beelzebub's discomfiture.

"And where exactly are we?" asked Leviathan grumpily as the scales along his body shimmered in the sun. "It's the freakin' southwest, isn't it Satan? Your know I don't like all this dry heat and sun," he said as he transformed his tentacle like appendages into human pairs of arms and legs. He fanned himself melodramatically with a webbed hand and muttered, "All Hallow's Eve in the desert?"

"Now, now, Levi. Calm down," said Belphegor, trying to be the mediator of the group. The goat faced demon scratched his blistering gray and red leathery skin and cast a patient eye towards their oftentimes leader. "So, tell us dear brother," he said looking over at where Satan stood, "Why HAVE you brought us all here to this desert?"

"In a minute," said Satan, as he then turned to the last remaining demon who had yet to speak. "Luci, you've been awfully quiet, you think this is a waste of time?" Satan asked Lucifer.

"Depends," said Lucifer scornfully as he picked at his black, claw-like nails. His brownish red skin was starting to become even redder in the heat and light and his large white eyes peered at his brother from hooded brows. Lucifer pulled a hand across his snout to wipe the ruby colored mucus from his distorted mouth.

"On?" asked Satan impatiently watching his brother.

"On how you plan to make these already suffering souls suffer some more," replied Lucifer with an evil grin.

Satan laughed a low maniacal laugh.

"Will you two please explain?" asked Belphegor in a huff as he wrapped his long Neanderthal-like arms around his chest.

Lucifer walked towards Belphegor and draped an arm around his broad, knotty shoulders. "Just be patient brother and listen," he said cryptically. "Satan has some fun planned for this All Hallow's eve," he explained with a crazy laugh.

With that, Satan began to describe his brief plan on causing seven unwilling lawmen of the town of Four Corners some angst and terror on the night of All Hallow's Eve. A low rumble of chuckling escaped from the group of demons and slowly erupted into deranged laughter as each made haste to put Satan's evil plan in play.

LUST

Buck Wilmington lay sleeping comfortably in his sparse room of the boarding house. And as he slept, like every night, he began to dream.

Buck moaned low and soft as he rolled over in his bed. Her image came to him again for the fifth time that week. As usual, she wore no clothes and the soft creamy color of her skin glistened in the moonlight. He eagerly reached out and studied her full, round breasts, her taut stomach, her shapely hips, her voluptuous bottom and her long legs. Buck could feel the want growing within him. Intense and consuming, his lust would eventually have him writhing in his tangled sheets to have her. He could feel her reaching for him, undressing him from his long johns, running her hands down his chest and the length of his body before laying down upon him. She covered him with her warmth and as he'd bring his arms up to encircle her, she would quickly sit up and straddle him. Her knees came down to rest along his sides as she'd teasingly scoot down and allow him to enter her. Buck would then reach down, place his hands on her hips and guide her into movement that eventually gave way to an earth shattering pleasure. As Buck hit his peak, she would continue to rock against him gently, till he fell asleep.

That was always how the dream ended.

This time however, Buck was surprised. She continued to ride him.

Hard.

She painfully ground her hips into his, pinning him with strength that he'd never anticipated her having. Her hands came down onto his chest, grabbing at him as she pushed harder down onto him, wanting more of him. Buck's groin began to hurt from her weight and a numbing sensation spread through his hips and pelvis. His legs suddenly would not move, despite how hard he tried to kick her off, his arms became pinned to his sides and as he looked up to notice her face for the first time, fear gripped him.

Despite Buck's dream lover's beautiful body, sensual and delicate, what he saw now frightened Buck more than anything in his entire life.

Instead of a beautiful face, pale yet flush with the gratification of sex, she had a horrible demon's face. Her skin was an angry red, with high arched brows rising above red gleaming eyes. Two tiny horns protruded from her forehead and a cascade of dirty golden curls framed her distorted pig-like face. She opened her mouth and the stench that escaped was that of death itself as a forked tongue flicked out to try and lick him.

Buck struggled away from the demon. Eventually regaining control of his arms, he pulled her hands from his chest, unfazed to find that they were claw-like and coated in blood. As he reached up to grab her face, she screamed a high pitched, bone tingling scream. He quickly pushed her face away from his, as he continued to thrash about on his bed to throw her body off of him.

And then she was gone.

Buck sat bolt upright in his bed soaked in sweat with his chest heaving with adrenaline. The room smelled thick of sex, and Buck found himself gagging at the potent odor. He was so caught up in what had just happened in his dream, that he didn't hear the pounding on his room's door.

Wrapping his sheets around him, he stood shakily and opened the door. Buck wasn't at all surprised to find the gambler Ezra Standish there. After hesitating a bit he let his friend in.

"Buck? Is everything okay? I heard some rather disturbing noises emanate from your room," said Ezra with his gun drawn.

In the dim light Buck suddenly realized that the smell was no longer there, he waved at Ezra to put his gun away. "You can put that away Ezra, it was just a nightmare," he said tiredly, not understanding the terrorizing dream.

Ezra looked at him a minute and quirked an eyebrow. "You mean there are no monsters here for me to exorcize Buck?" he said teasingly. Then he noticed Buck's disheveled appearance. "You've no fair maiden here, do you?" he asked glancing around the empty room.

"No! No," Buck answered nervously and quickly. He cleared his throat, "why do you ask?"

Ezra suddenly turned serious and pointed to the bleeding scratches on Buck's chest. "What's going on Buck?" he asked.

Buck sighed, running a hand through his damp, dark hair as he sat on his bed. He looked down at his chest and then looked over at Ezra, who still stood in his fancy shirt and trousers, probably just getting to bed. "I just had a nightmare Ezra. Thanks, for checking on me."

"And the scratches Buck?" Ezra looked at him curiously. "You may want Mr. Jackson to examine those."

Buck gave him a nervous smile. "Yeah, in the morning. Thanks Ezra," he stood again and ushered the gambler out the door.

With a heavy sigh, Buck sat back down on his bed and looked the scratches on his chest, too shaken to go back to sleep.

+ + + + + + +

On a rooftop across from the boarding house where Buck lived, sat Asmodeus, Mammon and Leviathan.

"Bravo Asmo!" cheered Mammon as he clapped Asmodeus on the back, nearly knocking the gangly demon from his perch.

Asmodeus glared humorously at Mammon and poked him in his belly as they both chuckled. "Yes," added Leviathan. "The Succubus is always such a nice touch," he said as he adjusted himself in his seat.

"Mmm. One of my favorites," said Asmodeus as he smiled fondly. Glancing at the dark town below him, he looked at his fellow demons. "So," he said clasping his hands together on his lap, "who's next?"

WRATH

Chris Larabee found himself back at his old ranch, just a day's ride away from Four Corners. Burnt remains stood were his beautiful home once looked over the corral that Adam had played in and the garden that Sarah had built. Kneeling amongst the grass surrounding him Chris grasped at the dirt at the base of the markers he had set up again.

He had found them finally. The men that burned his soul and took his life away. They hung there in the wind, up against an elm tree that he'd picnicked at with his wife and son, so long ago. The men were still alive.

Barely.

Chris stood to face them and watched as the two men struggled against their bonds. Both were tied at their hands, hoisted up and hung from a sturdy branch a foot off the ground, while their feet were secured to the tree's trunk. They hung there side by side watching Chris warily as he paced in front of them. They'd finally stopped screaming.

He remembered asking early on about what they had done and why they had done it. There was no remorse. He recalled the one on the right, thin and gangly like Fowler was, saying that he was just in the way. That Chris and his family were just an unlucky obstacle to his plans to get more land. But after all those years, no one had settled on the old Larabee homestead, no one even tried to buy it. So it occurred to Chris that he was lying. Then the one on left had said that it was all in fun. That it was just a game between the two, to see who could cause the most pain, to see who could ruin a life. The evil smile that escaped the man after saying so caused Chris' world to crumble. For entertainment, his life was taken away from him. His beautiful wife and innocent little boy had been burned to death.

That was when Chris had lost it.

He wanted to kill them but make them suffer first.

And so he did.

Chris bent down and picked up the bloodied knife he'd dropped in the tall grass a few moments ago with a dirt and blood encrusted hand. The two men still bled profusely from the hundreds of cuts inflicted on them by Chris after he'd made shallow gashes here and there across their bodies to simulate what he imagined burning alive felt like. But he was far from done, there was more that he wanted to do to the two bastards.

"Was it worth it?" Chris asked in a low dangerous voice.

The taller of the two men, the one on the left moaned while it appeared that the one on the right had passed out.

"Was it worth it?" Chris asked again. "Answer me!" he yelled. "They didn't deserve it! They never deserved it!" he screamed as he dropped the knife again and ran forward, kicking and punching at his captives. They whimpered at the violent assault heaved upon them.

Chris didn't stop, he struck out with amazing strength and stamina, beating on them mercilessly until his own fists were raw and bleeding. He staggered back and collapsed in a heap next to the grave markers. Hot tears flowed from his pained hazel eyes as he asked "why" over and over again grasping once more at the dirt and weeds around him.

When Chris awoke and found he was laying in the grass, it took him a few moments to work through his disorientation. Sitting up he looked up once again to the elm and saw the two figures still hanging. Wearily he stood and the man on the right immediately mouthed, "oh God, no."

Chris pulled his gun out of his holster and steadily walked towards them. The man on the left looked at Chris in fear. "Please," he begged. "No, don't Larabee, don't."

But Chris had not heard. He looked at their bloodied bodies, their swollen, black and blue faces, their twisted and distorted broken limbs and calmly stepped in front of the first man. "It's too late," he said as he put a bullet through the man's forehead. Blood splattered all over Chris' face. He then walked over to the next man who began to struggle and weep, "it's too late for all of us," he said as he pulled the trigger.

Chris stepped back to view his handiwork, his right hand dropped the gun into the tall grass. And then he began to laugh, a cold heartless, soul-less laugh. His shoulders shook with glee and he whooped and hollered. He began to cackle with heartiness and joy that the murderers were dead.

Chris sat up quickly and gasped for air. He looked around wildly and realized he was back in his room in Four Corners. He hurriedly threw off the sheets and went to his wash bin and retched. His chest and stomach heaved with exertion as he emptied the contents of last night's dinner into the basin. Chris found himself shaking and so unbelievably cold and he dropped to his knees. He looked down at his body and saw that he still wore his trousers but no shirt. Reaching over to his bed he pulled the sheets and blankets off to wrap himself, to try and get warm, but he had to stop when he suddenly heard a thud near the foot of the bed. Rising to see what it was, his knees nearly buckled at he sight of a bloodied knife before him. Chris quickly scanned his hands and was somewhat mystified to see that they were fine, not bloody or battered as he remembered them to be from his supposed dream. He glanced again to where the knife lay but it was gone.

+ + + + + + +

"You like?" asked Satan as he glanced over at Lucifer as they sat on the railing outside the door to Chris' rented room.

"I don't think the knife was too over the top," said Lucifer. "I don't know why you were so concerned brother," he added. Then he smiled and patted Satan's hand. "The nightmare was quite nice, all that blood," he added as he licked his lips.

Satan chuckled. "Hungry?" he asked, as his black eyes twinkled.

"Oh yes!" said Lucifer. "But first Mr. Jackson," he said as he rubbed his clawed hands together.

PRIDE

Nathan Jackson rubbed his eyes tiredly as he looked around the small dirty farmhouse. It had been a long day for the black healer. Some old farmer, his wife and kids were pretty sick and had sent their only healthy child, their eldest boy into Four Corners to fetch Nathan's help. It was about time too, since by the time they got to the boy's home, the young man was so exhausted and ill, he about near fell off his horse. Nathan smiled little at remembering how he caught the young man just in time. The farmer's wife was just starting to feel better and she and Nathan set about caring for her ill husband and three children. They were suffering from chills, fevers and coughing and Nathan figured that they had severe colds. Working through most of the early evening, he and the farmer's wife made broth for the children and the husband.

When he sat down to rest, he was surprised to find that the farmer's wife had sat down to watch him. Admittedly, Nathan realized that his presence in the woman's home still didn't sit well with some of the other folks in Four Corners, but he knew this woman and her family and they had often shown their acceptance of him and his help.

"You check on the other farmers too?" the wife suddenly asked.

"No, why?" asked Nathan back, a puzzled frown on his face.

"They're sick like this too," she informed him.

"All of them?" he asked. When she nodded her head, he replied, "I'll check on them tomorrow."

"Maybe something serious," the wife said.

Nathan looked at her husband and kids resting.

"Maybe you should get some help Nathan," the woman said drawing Nathan's attention back to her again.

Nathan stared back at her a moment to consider her words. "I can handle it," he replied confidently. "And if I think I'll need help, I can wire the doctor in Eagle Bend to come and help," he added to comfort her.

The wife looked back at the black healer with some concern but let him make the final decision.

When Nathan awoke the next morning, he rode out to the next farm to check to see if what he was told was true. And it was. He checked the two nearest farms and found that both families were indeed as sick if not more so than the farmer's wife had indicated. Both families told him that they were barely able to hold down the food that they were trying to eat, and that the children complained of thirst and stomach cramps.

Nathan shook his head in dismay, but figured that someone would have wired Four Corners if there was something serious going around. And if things turned out to be something he couldn't handle then he would wire Eagle Bend. So when he got back to Four Corners, he spent some time going through the few medical books he had and his medical apothecary to find some cure for what was ailing the farmers.

It was near midnight when he heard someone running up the stairs to his room. It was the first farmer's wife.

"Why didn't you wire the doctor in Eagle Bend?" she demanded when he let her into his room.

"Pardon me?" Nathan asked.

"I checked with the telegraph office, said that you ain't made no call yet. It's getting serious," she told him.

Nathan looked down at the books on his desks and the medical supplies he had gathered. "I think I may have found something to help," he said as he started putting things together for a trip out to her home.

"My family's throwing up too," she added sadly as she helped him. "My little one's now got stomach pains now," she said, stopping to look at him. "What if it's Cholera?" she asked.

Nathan stopped what he was doing immediately and gazed at her curiously.

"It's what some of the others have been saying," she said almost defensively. "When you gonna ask for help?" she asked again.

"Come on," said Nathan as he grabbed his things, "let's get going."

When they got back her home, the older children in the family began to exhibit vomiting and diarrhea too. Nathan became worried and informed them that he was going to check on the other farmers. The same symptoms greeted him, and in some cases, things were even worse off. Some of the smaller children were now experiencing severe intestinal cramps and Nathan truly became scared. He rushed out, riding through the coming dawn, as fast as he could, back to Four Corners to wire for some help. He just hoped he was in time.

Upon arriving back to town, Nathan immediately saw Josiah rushing out to meet him.

"Brother Nathan!" the ex-preacher Josiah Sanchez hailed him as he ran up to his horse. "We got a problem," he said as Nathan dismounted and tied up his horse. "Some people are sick, real bad. Vomiting and stomach pains," explained Josiah in a rush.

Nathan sucked in a breath, "oh God no, Josiah."

"What is it?" asked Josiah.

"It may be Cholera, some of the farmers had it," Nathan explained.

"What?" asked Josiah as he led him towards the church. "I've got a few people in the church. When did you know that the farmers had it?" Josiah questioned.

"A day ago," Nathan admitted.

"Do you think you should wire Eagle Bend for their doctor?" Josiah asked as they hopped up the stairs of the church.

Nathan burst into the church with Josiah on his heels, there laying in the pews were at least four more patients for him to look at. The tall ex-preacher eyed Nathan with some concern. "Nathan?" he asked, bringing Nathan out of his reverie. "Do you want me to wire Eagle Bend for you?" Josiah asked.

Nathan looked at his friend with large brown eyes full of guilt and fear and nodded numbly. Josiah clasped him on the shoulder.

"Get to work then Nathan, I'll be back as soon as I can," Josiah said as he rushed out of the church.

The next few hours came as a blur as Nathan worked continually, trying to make the patients comfortable. Soon others started coming into the church, coughing, vomiting and collapsing from exhaustion on any free space they found. The black healer's head began to spin with fatigue as he looked at now near twenty people in the church. The stench of the vomit filled his nostrils as he sat down to lean his head against the altar.

He dozed off.

When he woke again, he was shocked to find more people in the church with the same symptoms. Josiah lumbered towards him, coughing a little and looking pale.

"They brought JD in a few hours ago," he said sadly, referring to the town's Sheriff, JD Dunne.

"What?" asked Nathan as he looked around. The windows showed that it was still night. "How long have I been out Josiah?" Nathan asked his old friend.

"Most of the day, dunno. Sort of lost track when Ezra and Buck brought JD in. Chris and Vin are at some of the farmer's homes, trying to isolate the rest of them," he explained.

"Isolate them?" Nathan asked, confused.

"Yeah, it's Cholera, some of the young ones," Josiah paused to cough and brace himself against a pew, "some of them didn't make it. The older ones are suffering too."

"The doctor from Eagle Bend?" Nathan finally asked.

"On his way to Bitter Creek, that's four days away, by the time he gets here -- " Josiah trailed off.

Nathan covered his face with his hands. "Oh God," he said as he put his head down.

"Nathan?" Josiah asked as he broke into a fit of coughing.

The black man looked at his big friend with tears in his eyes, "I should have wired him sooner."

"You didn't know Nathan," Josiah said comfortingly.

"I should have Josiah," Nathan said looking at his friend sadly.

At that moment, Vin Tanner walked into the church carrying a weak and coughing Seminole Chief. He looked at Nathan sadly. "Says the village is gone," informed the former buffalo hunter. "They're all dead Nathan, from Cholera too."

Nathan shook his head vigorously. "No, no that can't be. Rain?" he asked about the woman he loved. Vin grasped his shoulder and shook his head sadly.

"No!" Nathan screamed as he jerked awake in his bed.

+ + + + + + +

"Nice touch that Cholera, so realistic don't you think?" asked Lucifer at his work.

"Oh, very nice brother, very nice. The bit about his lady love was nice touch too," added Satan, grinning.

"Yes, wasn't it?" asked Lucifer and he stood up from the railing. "Come, let's find the others and see how they are doing," he said.

"Sounds wonderful," added Satan. "Perhaps then we could eat!" he said as he flapped his wings and hopped off the railing too.

AVARICE

Ezra quietly shut the door to his rented room and fell into a chair tiredly. He'd just checked on Buck and was surprised to find the big man so shaken because of a nightmare. But after Buck's assurance that he was fine, Ezra had headed back to his room to finally get some sleep after a successful night at the tables.

Smiling ruefully at the thought of his evening, Ezra lifted a leg up and pulled up the pant leg of his trousers to expose the top of his fancy boot. He pulled out a wad of bills and then reached for his coat to remove the money he had collected from his games of the evening. Ezra chuckled lightly to himself as he counted his total earnings and his smile grew into a grin.

Pleased with himself, he stood tiredly and walked over to his bed, pulling a small sack from beneath his pillow. Ezra placed the money into the little bag and tucked it back from its' origin. Next, he placed his sleeve gun beside the sack. Then foregoing the idea of changing into more appropriate sleeping attire simply because he was too exhausted, he quickly laid down and fell asleep once his head touched the pillow.

Ezra awoke early, refreshed and dressed quickly. It was odd for him, but he had come to a conclusion the night before, somewhere in his dreams, that he would go to the bank to keep his money there. And so he was off, after stopping for a quick cup of coffee and some biscuits from the hotel's restaurant, he entered the bank and walked up to the teller. So engrossed was Ezra in his decision, he failed to notice that two scruffy gentleman had followed him in.

The teller looked up at Ezra and frowned. "Can I help you?" he asked shortly.

Ezra replied tersely, "yes, you may. I think," he added as he looked the meek old teller up and down.

Unexpectedly, there was a swooshing sound and Ezra looked on in dismay as the clerk behind the barred counter fell to the ground with a knife embedded in his chest. He would have whirled around quickly and pulled his gun had he not felt the cold steel and sharp point of a knife pressed against his neck.

"Drop your guns," said the voice behind him and Ezra willingly obeyed, swallowing hard. A second clerk emerged from the back and was quickly detained by another knife to the chest. Before the gambler could protest any more, he was dragged behind the counter to the already opened safe. Ezra's mind raced at what he possibly could do to distract the men. He had yet to pull his derringer, but found that the opportunity was not yet right.

"Load these," said one man roughly as he shoved the bags towards Ezra's chest. He glanced quickly to his partner and then back out to the entrance. "Now!" he commanded. Ezra glanced at the other man who pulled out a gun and gestured with it too and soon he found himself putting as much into the bags as possible. When he was done Ezra held two large bags full of cash, as did the other man. The man who had been guarding the door, snorted with glee and took both bags from Ezra, he nodded quickly to his partner and it was then that Ezra acted.

With a flick of his wrist, he withdrew his derringer, fired once at the man before him and then spinning around quickly to shoot the man standing next to him. Unfortunately, his aim shifted from the man's chest to his head, as a knife found it's way to his arm. His victim fell, and Ezra sagged against the safe's door. He pulled out the knife and then a handkerchief with his left hand and pressed it against his right arm to staunch the blood's flow.

Looking down and the remains of the two bank robbers, Ezra gaped at he mess before him. The second man that he shot no longer had a face and blood covered everything, including some money that spilled from one of the bags. Then he looked over at the first man who still clutched at the money.

As if in a daze, Ezra walked over to the first man and pried the bags from his fingers and then he fled back to his room, slipping through the alleys and hiding from the main street. He sat there in his room, looking at the two bags of cash before him. Why he hadn't informed the others of what had happened or returned the money had never entered his mind at all. What he thought of instead was the type of Saloon he could buy, and he type of haberdashery he could purchase, or the look on people's faces when they realized that he really did have money. Ezra's mind swam with ideas as he ignored the throbbing in his shoulder to briefly close his eyes and dream of what could be done with his fortune.

It was then that he heard a 'click.'

Opening his eyes, Ezra was shocked to find the first bank robber in his room.

"How -- " the gambler started to ask.

"The money," interrupted the man back. "Where is it?" he asked.

Ezra took in the man's pale features, the coldness in his eyes and the gaping wound in his chest. There was no way the man was still alive.

"The money?!" the man asked again, shoving the barrel of his gun into Ezra's temple.

Ezra's arms flew up in surrender as he pointed towards them on a chair next to his room's door.

"Greed is the root of all evil," said the man cryptically and Ezra involuntarily shuddered as he looked at the man's eyes.

"Boys," the old man said nodding.

Ezra broke eye contact and glanced fearfully around him. There stood other faceless men who quickly rushed Ezra with ropes and tied him spread-eagle to his bed, pulling on his injured shoulder. Before Ezra could cry for help, they began beating him with their fists, and bags of coins that jingled as they struck him. The man from the bank suddenly appeared above him with wads of bills in his hand. He grasped Ezra's neck with his other hand and squeezed so hard, the gambler gasped for air. Getting the desired effect, the robber began to shove the bills down Ezra's throat. Cramming them in, forcing more and more into the gambler's mouth as the others continually beat him. Ezra couldn't make a sound. His body flexed and convulsed against his bed, struggling to break free of the binds as he desperately tried to spit out the money from his mouth to breath. But he couldn't. A hand came down to cover his mouth and alternately shove more money down his throat.

Ezra gagged as his eyes snapped open. He sat upright and started to cough uncontrollably, tears formed in his eyes as a huge, lumpy object, suddenly dislodged itself from his throat. With one final, wrenching cough, Ezra ran over to his basin and spit out whatever was in his mouth.

His eyes widened in terror. But not because of the blood he saw there in the clean white basin, but at what appeared to be a wadded up ball of paper. With a shaky had, Ezra carefully unraveled the bloody, mucus-covered ball a little bigger than the size of both his cufflinks combined. He nearly fainted when he saw that it was a hundred dollar bill.

+ + + + + + +

"Oooh, shivers I tell you. Shivers!" said Belphegor as he looked at Mammon. "If I didn't have all this fur, I guarantee you'd see my Goose bumps," he said with a wicked smile as he sat down to join Asmodeus, Leviathan and Mammon.

Mammon snorted. "This gambler was so fun, did I ever tell you boys that I love this part of my job?" he asked.

"Dear brother yes!" exclaimed Asmodeus. "At least three times since we've been sitting up here," he added with a smile.

"Well," said Belphegor, "I just came to collect you Levi, since we have the only two not using beds! I've got to head back out to the desert! Can you believe that boys?"

"Well this Vin Tanner is an ex-Buffalo and bounty hunter, he's more accustomed to being out there," Mammon waved his fat fingers disdainfully towards the darkened desert.

Leviathan snorted. "Yes well, I've got a boy," he said proudly.

"Mmm that will be fun, won't it?" said Asmodeus. "Enjoy you two!" he said as Leviathan and Beelzebub disappeared from the rooftop.

ENVY

JD had been sitting in front of the Sheriff's office for some time, watching the town settle in for the evening. Tipping his chair further back so that it rested against the wall, the young man pushed his bowler back and sighed, letting his eyes wander over to the Saloon. Bright light poured from the two windows as well as from the bat-wing doors, as laughter and cheering erupted at odd intervals.

The Sheriff sighed wearily and smirked thinking that Ezra was probably having a really good night at the tables. Admittedly, JD knew that the gambler did indeed have some talent for the game of cards, of which he was nice enough to share with JD on a few occasions. But he often found himself disgusted with the fact that Ezra also had a quick wit as well as a flair for deception. It seemed too that at times, Ezra's use of big words served to intensify the fact that he was so multi talented and JD found himself resenting that about the Southern gentleman. He huffed dramatically and crossed his arms over his chest thinking it was so unfair that Ezra had been blessed with such talent.

He was so busy brooding over Ezra that it wasn't until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he shook himself from his reverie. Looking up to the two figures in front of him, JD smiled a wanly when he saw that Chris and Vin now stood before him.

"You all right JD?" asked Chris with concern in his voice.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" asked JD back smartly.

Vin stepped forward a bit and said, "easy JD, we were just checking on you."

"I'm fine," replied JD as he looked from Vin to Chris, still leaning in his chair. "Sorry," he said sullenly as he ignored the pang of guilt that he felt at snapping at Chris.

The two older men just shook their heads and gave each other knowing smiles and then walked off, leaving JD to continue his turn at watch for the evening. Swinging his legs from the chair, JD eyed the two men with some rivalry. Even though his closest friend was Buck, the young Sheriff could never see his relationship with the tall scoundrel to be as close, trusting and equal as Vin and Chris'. And it truly bothered him he realized, because though Buck covered his back when he needed it, he knew that there was no way that one day Buck would ever trust him enough to give him that same responsibility. Chris and Vin somehow knew each other's strengths and weaknesses and strive to make it work out for them and the group. With some reluctance, JD realized that Buck would constantly hen-peck him to his grave.

JD sighed heavily again when the object of his recent musings burst from the doors of the Saloon with one of the girls firmly latched onto his arm. Buck laughed loudly at something the beautiful petite blond had said and led the way to his boarding house room. JD's skin crawled with revulsion as he heard Buck's carousing again. He pulled his hat off quickly to scratch at his head in frustration trying to understand how despite Buck's rakish ways he still managed to not ever have to pay. And the women still flocked to him. That irked JD to no end as he watched through hooded lids the darkened alleyway to which Buck and his lady friend disappeared.

Still moping sometime later, JD finally stood and stretched with a big yawn. Things had been quiet and though he was feeling bitter about his friends and their fortunes he decided that perhaps all that he really needed to was a drink. So he put his bowler back on and headed for the Saloon. He was just about to enter when one of the store owners stopped him.

"Sheriff? Where can I find Mr. Sanchez?" the elderly man asked. JD didn't remember his name, but knew that the older man looked familiar to him.

"Possibly the Saloon, anything I can help with?" JD asked hopefully. Thinking that though he may not be as fortunate or talented as his friends, he should still be able to help the older man.

"Naw, think it's best I talk to the preacher, he'll know," said the man as he walked towards the Saloon.

"Well, I am the Sheriff," JD pointed out.

"Yeah, an?" said the old man snidely. "Yous just a kid," said the man. "What'd you know bout' what help I need son?"

JD tried not to let his anger show as he hurried after the man, bursting into the Saloon on his heels.

"There he is!" said the man pointing to the corner to where Josiah and Nathan sat sharing a drink. "He'll think ah something," he said pointedly.

JD just shook his head and walked over to sit with Nathan and Josiah. "This man's been looking for you Josiah," informed JD.

"What can I help you with?" asked Josiah curiously.

"Mah wife's sick, whatta ya reckon' I do?" asked the man.

The young man's jaw dropped in disbelief. "That's what you had to ask him?" he asked.

The man looked at JD indignantly, then cast an admiring glance at Josiah. "Well preacher?" he asked.

"Best get Nathan here to look at her," instructed Josiah as he looked at JD inquiringly.

"Right, sure!" agreed the older man. "You're the healer," he said to Nathan. "You'll help cause you're good at it, ain't ya?"

"I'll do the best I can," informed Nathan.

"Oh, I know you will, if preacher man here says you can help, he knows," said the old man happily as he led Nathan out of the Saloon. He cast an arrogant look towards JD and disappeared with Nathan into the night.

"JD?" asked Josiah as he looked towards the shocked youth.

"I could've told him that!" exclaimed JD, angry that he wasn't taken so seriously. "Why he came to you instead of me, and I knew what to tell him too!" JD huffed. "I just don't understand it!" he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air.

"JD?" Josiah asked again, trying to calm him down. "Relax son, how 'bout we get some air?" he said pulling JD to his feet. Once outside the doors, JD yanked his arm free.

"What is it? I mean I wanna know!" JD said flailing his arms about. "I mean Ezra! He's got talent everywhere! Cards! Cheating! And Chris and Vin! They'd ride to the ends of the earth for each other! And Buck! For Chrissakes! He's got women all over and he ain't ever had to pay! You!" he said pointing towards the big man. "People see you as this smart, holy man who has all the answers! And Nathan! People like him cause he can heal!" JD stalked about, pacing back and forth in front of the Saloon in the darkly lit street. "I'm nothing! Josiah?! You see that? I'm the Sheriff and no one comes to me! No one!" he said pulling out one of his colts. "Why can't I be like any of you!" JD screamed, waving about his gun.

"Easy now JD," said Josiah watching the young Sheriff warily. "Put the gun away," said the ex-preacher soothingly. "Put it away JD, before something happens."

"Like what?" JD snorted bitterly. But before he even realized it was happening, JD was spun around and reflexively, his gun went off, the muzzle-flash briefly illuminating his victim's face.

It wasn't till the figure fell at his feet that he fully registered who the person was.

"Kid?" Buck asked as blood seeped out from the corners of his mouth.

"Oh God. Buck?" JD asked as looked down and sank to his knees.

Buck's hands came up before him, covered in blood. "JD? What'd you do?" Buck asked simply.

"Oh my God, Buck?" JD asked again weeping. "Buck?!" he asked again, noticing that Buck was beginning to fade.

He faintly heard Josiah calling to him, "JD?"

JD first felt himself jerk uncontrollably and then fall. He hit the floor with a solid 'thud' of wood against wood as well as his head connecting with the hard wooden boards. Scrambling quickly to his feet, JD looked down curiously at the fallen chair behind his desk. His eyes were wide with fright as he glanced around the darkened but empty Sheriff's office.

+ + + + + + +

Leviathan snickered evilly as he watched the shadows of JD's movement in the Sheriff's office.

"Guess he won't be sleeping anytime soon," said Belphegor as he draped an arm across Leviathan's shoulders.

"No, I suppose dreaming of killing your best friend can do that, huh?" said Leviathan, scratching at his course scales. "Now, on to Mr. Tanner?" he asked hopefully.

"Not just yet, let's see what Beelzebub is up to," said Belphegor, snapping his fingers as they disappeared into the night once more.

+ + + + + + +

Belphegor sat on the church roof and looked at his companions. Beelzebub was pacing while Leviathan continued to scratch at his scales.

"What are you so worried about? He is an ex-preacher, B, but so what? You've dealt with them before. You've even dealt with nuns. Remember that Sister Madeleine in France, you had so much fun with her! You should be fine here," said Belphegor.

"Perhaps I wasn't as clear as I wanted to be Belph, this man, let's just say we have some history," Beelzebub said, pausing from his pacing and flapping his wings.

"You don't mean it's that preacher Sanchez from your tear on those Missionaries in Europe do you?" asked Leviathan.

"No, no, this is his son," said Beelzebub.

"So, no biggie, right?" asked Leviathan. "Right? I mean he's a different man, and you know those preacher's kids, always the opposites of their fathers," Leviathan added comfortingly.

Beelzebub looked at Leviathan unbelievingly.

Belphegor raised his hands and shrugged. "We'll be going now, unless you want to stay Levi?" the goat headed demon asked.

"Oh I'd like to come please, I've always wondered about the desert at this time of night," Leviathan said as he waved good by to Beelzebub and vanished.

SLOTH

Vin slumped down against the rock behind him, shifting his legs so that his mare's leg rested easily against his thigh. He cast one more glance out at the golden and flat landscape before him and sighed dramatically. A month, he reminded himself. He'd been in Four Corners a month and had made no move to get to Tuscosa to clear his name.

He'd been so eager to before. When he first met the others in the little town. But Chris had convinced him in the beginning that he should wait. And he did. But that was it and since then he hadn't even tried. Their contract had ended for the Judge and although they were given the option to stay and to continue to help, the others had left. Ezra to the next town, Buck and JD to other parts West and Nathan back to the Seminole village. Josiah was the only one staying for the church and the town.

Then there was Chris, constantly harping on him that it was time to go to Tuscosa.

Vin smirked thinking he never should have told the shooter about his troubles in the Texas Panhandle. Now the man wouldn't lay off. Constantly reminding him that they should get going to clear the Tanner name. Probably wanted the money Vin thought ruefully, knowing it wasn't true. He'd known Chris really wanted to help, but somewhere along the way, he stopped caring. What did he need to clear his name for he wondered? His mother? Vin snorted softly, startling his horse. He looked at the animal briefly then continued his musings. Most other Tanner's were dead as near as he could remember. Why would it have mattered if he were wanted or not? And unjustly too. Sometimes things just outta be left alone. Besides, it made no matter to himself or his ma anymore.

But what about Nettie Wells?

She was just an old woman he rationalized.

Chris?

Buck and JD?

Ezra?

Nathan? Josiah?

The widow, Mrs. Travis? The Judge?

He figured either they felt he wasn't worth the time or they'd left Four Corners all together. And if others cared even less than why should he bother?

When Vin came to that conclusion, he'd decided to leave Four Corners. No sense in staying to hear Chris constantly hinting at where they really should be. Sometimes the older hired gun seemed to want to go to Tuscosa just to come along. Not necessarily to help but just to get away. And since the others were gone, it was time to move on anyhow. He slipped out of town in the middle of the night, not even telling Chris were he planned on going.

So now as he sat on the rock cliff over-looking the landscape before him in the sunrise, he had no regrets about leaving Chris behind. Nor did he have any regrets about deciding not to head to Tuscosa. He figured he'd be caught up to soon enough, a month was a long time to stay in one place. Vin shifted his position so that he could benefit from the shade of an outcropping of rocks next to him. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes to get some sleep.

At first he ignored his horses' soft nickering, but eventually the animal started to bother him. Vin opened his eyes slowly to the bright sun and yawned, stretching his arms out in front of him and groaning. When he heard the soft click, he barely reacted. Vin turned to smile at Old Eli Joe.

"So Tanner, ready?" asked Eli Joe as he towered over the sitting Vin, his gun drawn and aimed at the younger man. The man was just a little older than Josiah, white hair, sparkling brown eyes with two front teeth missing and a week's worth of gray stubble on the lower portions of his face. He stood with a slight bend in his back.

Vin looked Eli Joe over and smiled. The old man had apparently been doing good. Vin remembered that long ago, all Eli Joe wore was torn, ragged clothes, and now he was nicely dressed. "Reckon so," responded Vin after a while of studying him.

"Boy, you ain't gonna fuss?" asked Eli Joe, shocked. "You remember that you didn't kill that man right? You ain't gonna fight for the truth?"

"Nope," replied Vin evenly as he finally stood and fully stretched.

Eli Joe watched him and smirked. "I never figured you'd come so easily Tanner," Eli Joe said.

Vin arched an eyebrow and went over to tie up his bedroll to his horse. Eli Joe scratched his head as he watched Vin warily. "You not care about dying?" he asked the younger bounty hunter.

Vin shrugged his shoulders.

Eli Joe smiled a bit and then said, "well then I guess you won't mind if I make a little extra money off of ya. See, you're worth five hundred fifty dead."

Vin looked at the older man blankly.

"I figured as much," said Eli Joe as he aimed and fired at Vin in the chest. Vin's form went flying back against his startled horse, before slumping to the ground.

Eli Joe looked down at the bloody form of Vin and shook his head sadly. "Not even a fight Tanner," he sighed as he bent down to go through Vin's pockets.

The horse continued to nicker softly. Vin was comforted by the sound as he shifted to make himself more comfortable against the rocks to get a few more minutes of shut-eye before having to wake and head back into town.

The tracker's eyes flew open and looked around him frantically. He reached up to his chest and felt no dampness, pulling at his bandana and shirt to expose his bare and smooth chest, he breathed a sigh of relief.

+ + + + + + +

"I suppose getting a pretty relaxed and laid back individual to really not care for his life is really terrifying," said Leviathan as he looked over at Belphegor as they sat on some rocks.

"You didn't like it," Belphegor asked.

"No, no, I very much liked it, it was just a little odd, you know that the tracker would have fought in real life," said Leviathan.

"That was the point brother," said Belphegor as he arched an eyebrow and rubbed his right horn.

"Oh, I get it," said Leviathan, finally smiling with comprehension.

GLUTTONY

Josiah sat quietly in the church staring at the Bible he held in his hands. It was old and frayed at the edges. The leather had faded and become thinner where he gripped it along the spine on the many days he had toted it with him to Bible study as a boy. His father had given him the Bible, and it was his first and only gift. He remembered his father saying on many occasions how the teachings of the Bible were gifts enough and that if Josiah studied well, he would come to see that every time he turned to the holy book, he would gain the gift of knowledge, faith and prayer. The big ex-preacher sighed and smirked as his grip tightened around the thick book. He'd tried it his father's way, the missionary way. Once he even worked side by side with his father. But Ko-Je had been right about him being angry with himself about his relationship with his father. He had resented the protection, the duty imposed by his father onto him and saw his father as a hypocrite for not practicing what he preached.

And although he settled some things about his father's actions that day, when Chanu and Ko-Je faced the Reverend Mosely and his son Rafe, there were still the issues of his father needing to reinforce the many biblical teachings to him as a boy.

Josiah put down the book and picked up the bottle of Red-Eye whisky next to him. Remembering what he'd said once about sometimes turning to the 'wrong kinds of spirits,' Josiah took a big sip from the bottle. The liquid burned its way down his throat and he grinned at the sensation. He remembered that the reinforcement often came violently.

He took an even larger swig of the whiskey.

Father Sanchez had been dead a month by the time Josiah returned from his missionary work in India. Though Josiah showed remorse for his father's death, he regretted that he never told anyone that while he mourned at the loss, he also celebrated his own release. The large man sighed and smiled lightly as he lifted the bottle to lips once more and drank heartily, relishing the flavor and the feeling the liquor caused as it coursed down his throat and into his gut.

He remembered in India they had the Vedas, with his father it was the Bible, always the Bible. Josiah drank again, taking half the bottle before coming up for air. There were nights when all he would do was read aloud from the Bible to his father. Passage after passage, and if he weren't quick enough to find the passages quoted, he'd have to go without dinner. Josiah took another large sip. And when he'd argue and fight, his father would whip him, quoting the Bible as he did so, especially the proverbs.

"For the commandment is a lamp: and the law is light; and reproofs of instruction are the way of life: to keep thee from the evil woman, from the flattery of the tongue of a strange woman. Lust not after her beauty in thine heart; neither let her take thee with her eyelids. For by means of whorish woman a man is brought to a piece of bread: and the adulteress will hunt for the precious life."

Josiah swirled the liquid in the bottle before him and took another sip.

"A man of great wrath shall suffer punishment: for if thou deliver him, yet thou must do it again."

"A man's pride shall bring him low: but honor shall uphold the humble spirit."

Throwing down the bottle, Josiah frowned and grabbed another one to drink from.

"He that is greedy of gain troubleth his own house; but he that hateth gifts shall live."

The big man tipped his head back and poured the contents of the bottle into his open mouth.

"A sound heart is the life of the flesh: but envy the rottenness of the bones."

Josiah clutched the bottle to his chest, feeling warm but not yet satiated.

"As the door turneth upon his hinges, so doth the slothful upon his bed."

By the time Josiah had reached for his fifth bottle of whiskey, he'd relived his bitter history with his dead father several times over. Stretching out in the pew that he laid in he held up the bottle of whisky and swirled the amber liquid around in the candlelight. He wanted more of the liquor and finished up the bottle. He reached for another, smirking as he reached out and his hands knocked the bottles down. Finally locating another full bottle, he drank more, not caring that he could no longer control his movements and that his vision had become blurred.

Josiah's head throbbed and his throat became tighter as he drank his seventh, or was it eighth bottle? He laid his head back on the hard pew and stared up at the ceiling when a figure came into view.

The face was twisted and covered in dark fur as yellow eyes peered back at him. Josiah panicked suddenly and found that he couldn't breath. He started choking and sat up quickly, gasping and coughing up bile and the liquor that he'd consumed. Inhaling sharp and deep breaths, Josiah wheezed over and over again, forcing himself to calm down.

"For the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty: and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags."

Josiah lost his balance and rolled off of the pew to land on all fours of the church floor. The 'thud' of his fall echoing through the small church. He looked up quickly and saw sunlight streaming in through the broken windows of the church.

Glancing around him, he saw no bottles, no indication of his vomiting. Nothing. And then he remembered the image from his dream and jumped to his feet.

+ + + + + + +

"Oops," said Beelzebub as he sat up on the church's rooftop, he flattened the fur on his chest nervously. "Well, better go tell the others," he said to himself. "Satan will be pissed."

+ + + + + + +

Seven elderly men sat at one of the corner tables in the Hotel's restaurant.

"Let me get this straight," said Satan. "He recognized you?" he asked, waving his fork at Beelzebub.

"Yes!" said Beelzebub, cutting through his rare steak. "It was quite disconcerting, perhaps his old man told him about me," he added.

"Perhaps," said Lucifer quietly as he sipped his coffee, watching his companions.

"Are you mad?" asked Beelzebub, as he looked warily at Satan.

"No," said Satan. "I am however disappointed. It's never fun when they know why things happen. Or 'who' caused things to happen. The whole point of coming here for the holiday was to recruit these souls. Not have them realize suddenly who caused humanity to fall."

"Humanity indeed," snorted Lucifer. "Don't worry brother, this was not so much a waste of time and don't be so disappointed. Had it not been for this Sanchez, we would have done so much better. Besides, perhaps the others don't know," he added.

There was a brief pause then Belphegor huffed lightly and the group turned to him. "I do so hate these human forms," he said, suddenly changing the topic. "They're quite unflattering don't you think?" he asked them. "So clean and dressed! What is it with clothes? So the old guy upstairs made them feel shame, big deal!"

"Please, every time we go public you talk about this. Belph! It's just an illusion," said Asmodeus as he bit into a chunk of bread.

"Yes, yes, Belph. What's gotten in to you?" asked Leviathan. "It's not like you're physically wearing what these humans see."

"Well, I'm not so sure that this illusion will work on our friend Sanchez," said Beelzebub interrupting their banter.

"You may be right and now's the time to find out," said Mammon, indicating the hired guns that just walked in.

+ + + + + + +

Chris walked into the restaurant wearily. He immediately spotted the seven individuals at one of the corner tables but hid his curiosity. Vin followed him in, as did Buck, JD, Nathan and Ezra. They sat down and Chris thought they all looked like hell.

"Where's Josiah?" Chris asked.

"Ain't seen him yet, but he should be here soon," answered Nathan. Then glancing around at everyone, he asked, "I take it you all had trouble sleeping too?"

Ezra and Buck snorted while JD moaned and put his head down. Vin shook his head and Nathan knew not to press Chris. He was still troubled from his nightmare.

A moment later Josiah burst in and spotted them instantly. But before he could make his way over, he noticed the table of men in the corner of the restaurant keeping a close eye on his friends. Striding over to the table of unknowns, he suddenly paled. He could see them, in their demonic state, sitting there calmly eating their breakfasts of steak and eggs, bread and coffee.

"Care to join us Preacher Sanchez?" asked the furry gray figure from his dreams.

Josiah shuddered and tried to compose himself. "I'm meeting some friends," he said amiably as he glanced over to the others who had now begun to stand and filter their way over to join him.

"Or maybe they're meeting me," he said with a slight shrug of the shoulders. He nodded greetings as Chris and Vin came to stand on his left, Ezra and Buck took opposite sides against the wall and JD and Nathan moved to his right. The seven hired gunmen effectively surrounded the table of old men before them.

"Problem here Josiah?" asked Chris as he eyed the table of wintry men who continued to eat their breakfasts casually. Chris watched them curiously, something about them didn't sit right with him.

"Ewww," interrupted Buck. The tall drifter pointed to Lucifer's plate and asked, "Mister, you realize that steak is darn near raw don't you?" Buck brought his hand up to his throat and glanced disgustedly towards the aged man before him.

"Buck," said Josiah to get his attention. Then he looked at the table before him, "I believe I know these, uh, gentlemen'" he said as he glanced at his friends.

"Do you now?" asked Beelzebub.

Josiah smirked slightly and sighed. Then as he glanced at his friends, he said, "Beelzebub?" as he pointed at the demon from his dreams. His eyes traveled around the table, pausing on each of the demons and Josiah surprised himself when he remained calm. He knew them, he'd read all about them. He could name them, "Belphegor, Leviathan, Mammon, Asmodeus, Lucifer and Satan," he said as he pointed to each of the seated individuals.

Belphegor and Mammon dropped their meat laden forks. Leviathan nearly spilled his coffee. Asmodeus' mouth hung open in bewilderment, while Lucifer remained speechless.

"Well, well," said Satan. "What a surprise."

"Mmm, yes," said Beelzebub. "Seems my companions were wrong about you Preacher," he added with a hint of irritation.

"Oh?" said Josiah, as he watched the old men cautiously.

"They said you were nothing like your father," said Beelzebub, crossing his arms in front of him.

"But you think I am?" Josiah asked.

"Uh, if you'll pardon me gentleman," interrupted Ezra. "Did Mr. Sanchez just say that your name is Mammon?" Ezra asked as he gestured to a portly old man with a half dome of graying hair, eyeglasses and neatly trimmed mustache.

"Yes he did," replied Mammon. "It doesn't at all surprise me that you'd know who I am, a man so well educated as yourself. Did you enjoy my visit last night Mr. Standish?"

Ezra paled.

"Who's Mammon, Ezra?" asked Vin as he slipped his mare's leg from its holster, concerned that the gambler suddenly looked ill.

"Yeah," breathed JD as he moved closer to Josiah. "Who are they?" he asked the big man next to him.

"Demons," answered Chris as he watched the decrepit old men at the table stir and stare at him in surprise. They wore Easterner's suits with dark coats and vests and all of them had gray hair in various stages of recession, one of them even succeeding in complete baldness.

"Satan and Lucifer?" asked Nathan. "Ain't they devils?" he added.

Buck laughed nervously, "this is all a joke ain't it fellas?" he asked his friends and the table before him.

Chris gave him a look that quieted him immediately.

"No Buck, Chris is right," said Josiah. "These are the demons of the seven sins," explained Josiah.

"Mammon is the demon of Avarice," explained Ezra as he too drew his guns.

"Very well done Mr. Standish," said Mammon.

Ezra watched as the old man gently put down his coffee cup to meet his eyes.

"I think it only fair Satan," said Mammon, "that the others introduce their talents as well?"

Satan nodded and gestured to the others, and one by one, the demons introduced themselves.

"I am Envy," said Leviathan begrudgingly.

"You Mr. Larabee, know me as Wrath," said Satan.

"I am Lust," said Asmodeus as he grinned wickedly at Buck and the tall drifter visibly squirmed.

"Mr. Jackson," said Lucifer, "you know me as Pride."

"I am Sloth," said Belphegor as he lazily watched Vin and smiled.

"And you know me all too well don't you Preacher Sanchez?" asked Beelzebub.

The big man nodded slightly. "Gluttony," replied Josiah simply.

Satan sighed dejectedly, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, spoil my fun gentleman," he said.

"Isn't that just the most annoying thing," said Leviathan as he rolled his yellow eyes.

"Hmm, yes," answered Belphegor. "So what do we do? They know us," he continued as he looked at his fellow demons around the table.

"Ah yes, but they don't SEE us," said Mammon, "well except for Josiah there, for who we really are."

"No?" asked Chris as he watched the older men fidget in their seats. He drew his guns, causing JD, Buck and Nathan to do the same.

"Oh come on Larabee," said Satan as he watched them pull their weapons. "You don't really know what I look like," he challenged.

"No, you got me there," said Chris coolly. "But your friend Mammon is right. Now we know all of you and all about you, regardless if you look like a bunch of sorry old lonely men or not. You are the devils that entered our dreams last night."

Lucifer snorted as he looked at the shocked expressions of his companions. "It seems we grossly underestimated all of you," he said.

+ + + + + + +

JD stepped out of the Hotel first and paused to soak up the sun's rays. Vin came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder causing the younger man to jump. The bounty hunter smiled sheepishly.

As the others filed out of the Hotel behind them, Buck asked, "why do you suppose they just disappeared like that?"

"Seems Chris pissed them off," answered Vin as he looked back at Buck.

"Mr. Sanchez?" asked Ezra. "What do you really think?"

"Well, perhaps part of it was because of what my father told me about Beelzebub," replied Josiah.

"But it was more than that right?" asked Nathan. "I mean, Chris did say that we all knew them now."

"That he did brother Nathan, perhaps that's what did it too," Josiah nodded. "Of course it could be because it's now All Saint's Day," he added.

"Reckon' yesterday was Dias de los Muertos' then," said Vin.

"I thought you said your Spanish was no bueno?'" asked Chris.

Vin just smiled shyly, his blue eyes twinkling slightly.

"What's Dias de, de, whatever mean?" asked JD.

" The Day of the Dead,' JD," answered Nathan.

"When the dead come back to look for bodies to inhabit and demons look for souls," explained Josiah.

JD looked at the bigger man with wide eyes as he gulped fearfully. "Oh," he said softly.

"Will they come back?" Chris asked suddenly.

Josiah looked at Chris and then the others around him. "Maybe, maybe not," he answered.

The seven men paused to watch the main street of Four Corners wake with the morning sun while they silently contemplated their recent visitors.

"Hey Ezra," said Buck breaking the silence. He glanced briefly at the others before resting his eyes on the gambler. "Those scratches?" he asked gesturing to his chest.

Ezra nodded back curiously.

"Gone," said Buck. "As of this morning when I woke," explained Buck.

Ezra laughed softly. "You'd be surprised Mr. Wilmington at the things that may have commenced last night that no longer exist but in our minds," he said.

"What kind of nightmare did you have Ezra?" asked JD.

"One that I'll share eventually Sheriff, I'm trust we all have nocturnal visions that we'd like to discuss?" he asked.

+ + + + + + +

"Bloody hell," said Satan as he kicked up some dust.

The seven demons stood once more in the open, hot desert.

"Relax," said Lucifer as he walked up next to his brother. "Don't let the others see you so upset," he advised in a whisper as he jerked his head towards their companions. "How about we go back to France?" Lucifer asked trying to cheer up Satan. "What do you say boys? How bout an All Saint's Day' in gay Paree?" he asked as he put an arm around Satan's wings and spun him around to face the others.

"That'll work," said Leviathan, his colorful scales once again shimmering as they caught the sunlight.

"Yes, this Southwestern cuisine of steak and eggs certainly leaves something to be desired doesn't it?" Beelzebub asked.

"Oh please, all those heavy rich sauces?" replied Asmodeus.

"As if you had to watch your weight," said Mammon incredulously as he looked at his gangly friend.

"As if you EVER watched your weight," said Belphegor as he teasingly poked at Mammon's large belly, causing everyone to laugh.

The End