A/N: Welcome back everyone! I know, I know, it's been a while, but here we are again with another chapter and I've been waiting a while to be able to get this out to you! I am SO excited! This story is far from being over yet my friends and, as I promised, I have not abandoned it nor will I! Taking my time on writing is really important to me these days and I'm super happy with all of you sticking along and having a good time reading whenever I post :)
Want to chat on the latest chapter, want to see some WIP snippets, background info to my stories, scribbles I did for my fics, etc, then find me on Twitter as: x_Luniana_x
And now a little disclaimer in advance:
This chapter contains a reference to self-harm/suicide. If you struggle with depression or thoughts about self-harm in any shape or form, please contact a specialist for it. While loved ones are also good to confine in, there are people who are trained and know exactly how to handle such a situation. They can truly help you in your darkest hours. Please call them. Don't hesitate. You're not alone.
Right. With that being said, and if you are ready for it, grab yourself some popcorn, cuddle up in a blanket (yes…. You might want to add to the atmosphere!) and enjoy the read!
Recommended Songs:
2WEI & Edda Hayes - BURN
Secession Studios - Wolf At The Door
Freight Train Foxes – Lucky Penny
Rok Nardin - The Mad King
Chapter 17 – Madness
[2WEI & Edda Hayes - BURN]
Chloe leaned against the table and crossed her arms, looking from her partner over towards Ella. "So what would you say it was?"
"Zolpidem, although it's branded under a gazillion other names as well," Ella began with a theatrical eyeroll before checking the listed substance on her computer. "It's one of the most common date-rape drugs in the U.S. and it's really difficult to trace because it's half-life is just two to three hours. Given Lucifer's metabolism might've kicked in a bit, there was not really anything left in his system when I took the blood sample from him. So, as there is basically no evidence there, I'm making this assumption based on crossing out all other possibilities. But it's obviously not bulletproof."
"A date-rape drug?" Lucifer sighed, crestfallen. "This is preposterous! The scale at which this blasted nutter has abused and degraded me is unforgivable! I'll personally make sure that once he checks out of this world, his hell loop doors will be tightly shut." Grumbling with a shake of his head over the horrible things he had endured, he grabbed the thick file of his case from next to Chloe and exasperatedly skimmed through the pages of protocols, images and added information. "So what now?! Are we seriously just waiting for that Dad-damn warrant and risk that this bastard makes an attack on Amenadiel or another poor human?"
Chloe worried her lip between her teeth, her heart sinking. "I know you don't like it, Lucifer, but we can't risk blowing up the case. It could get pulled away from the whole team or the guy could end up not being convicted if we don't go after protocol. I've pressured the judge enough already. Any more and he's going to file charges for solicitation and recuse himself, and this is already the nicest judge available right now."
Glaring back at her, Lucifer could feel the anger drip from his tongue like venom. "This is a bloody mistake. We're wasting time and you know it." Stepping up to her, he tossed the file back down next to her and headed out the door. He couldn't do it. He couldn't just sit around and wait. While he knew deep down that she was right and he shouldn't risk the procedure of the investigation, he couldn't simply accept that there was nothing he could do. There was always something, he just needed to figure out what it was that he could do.
His accusation hurt, but she could understand him. This was the problem with being personally invested in a case. But even without the personal connection to it, she knew that feeling. Every killer on the loose and people being in danger of becoming the next dead body that had been gruesomely murdered was filling her veins with adrenaline and setting her brain on emergency situation mode. It set her on edge, pushed her, rushed her and always threatened to cloud her judgement, because she desperately sought justice for the victims and worked tirelessly to catch the killer before he could strike again. It made her wish to skip procedures, to search apartments and to rush to conclusions, because each second could be the second needed to prevent another murder.
But that road was a dangerous one to take and could only end in misery in the long run. Too easily, mistakes would be made and the next victim could be dead sooner than expected. Worst of all, you might realize it happened only because of a mistake you made, and that the victim would have been alive, if only you would've gone by protocol, because it existed for exactly this reason. Not to be time consuming, but to be thorough, to not make mistakes, to catch the right one and be sure to get him behind bars.
She knew that she couldn't convince him of this though and she also couldn't blame him for it. It was, ironically, so very human of him. Trusting that he wouldn't compromise their case, she let him go. He had a lot on his plate and likely a lot to think about with his recent flashback. She only hoped that he would find some peace of mind with whatever he was doing.
Releasing a long exhale, she brushed through her hair and spread out the file's content on the big table. Looking from Dan to Ella, she saw their expectation but also the determination in their eyes. They knew this was one of the tough hours they had to master. Waiting for the procedure. But they also knew not to waste this time, but dig deeper, look harder. "Okay, while we're waiting for that warrant, let's take another look at all the information we have and dissect it and then let's also get an overview over what we don't know, because that's not a short list either."
They went to work immediately, sorting all the material they had in one of their big meeting rooms, filling the walls with photographs of the crime scenes and evidence, the ME report and statements from Lucifer, and whatever they had no material for, they wrote on two large whiteboards, collecting questions to which the answer was still unclear.
With all the material spread on the walls, Dan eventually stood in front of the whiteboard, marker in hand, thinking. "So, now that we've got that done, I gotta say I'm dying to know everything about Lucifer and this whole celestial thing. I mean… He's the Devil! An angel! An actual angel! He had wings! I mean… What else is there about him?! I saw him do some pretty crazy stuff over the years… so… Give it to me, Chloe. Shower me with all the infos on our devilish weirdo."
Chloe looked at him, surprised. She hadn't expected him to ask questions about the celestial world so soon after his little brain-melt this morning, and now that both Ella and Dan seemed to be doing just fine with knowing the truth about Lucifer, she felt even more ridiculous about how her own reaction had been to run for the hills. "Erm… okay… well…" Looking over to the room's door to find it shut, she nodded and gestured at both Dan and Ella. "Go ahead. If you have questions, ask. I can't say I'll be able to answer everything, but, you know, I'll try."
The continuous humming of Maze's daggers vibrated in the air as she spun them casually back and forth around her fingers. A clear sign of the demon's impatience. Sighing and tilting her head to the left, she squinted her eyes at the Devil. "I could easily get those files. No traces. No witnesses. Hell, I could make a copy of them within minutes and leave the originals there. Nobody would know anything."
Of course she could. It wasn't about her skill. It wasn't even really about obtaining those files. Downing the last sip of bourbon from his glass, Lucifer placed it back on the counter and refilled it. "No, Mazikeen. I don't want the Detective to get into any trouble. You know that she would immediately understand how we got the files and you also know how it would make her feel. I'm not going to betray her trust." Grabbing his refilled glass, he made the golden liquid swirl for a moment, thinking. "There has to be another way to find out who this nutter is."
"Well… What do we know about him?" she asked, watching him start pacing through the living room.
"Not much, really. We know he's a surgeon - or maybe he was one. I remember he was talking about religious nonsense, so maybe he's a believer, perhaps even a true one. Said that he wants to get back into my Dad's graces again for instance. As if killing and de-winging an angel only to then stick the wings onto an innocent would make Him proud." He huffed humourlessly into his glass, once again feeling negatively surprised by the craziness a human mind could develop. "I mean that's really a far fetch…"
"Get back into His graces?" Maze repeated, sensing that there was some form of guilt involved by the miscreant they were looking for. "Why did he think he wasn't in God's graces? Did he ruin some surgery or something? Oh! Maybe he ran from an accident and didn't help the injured driver like that sick professor."
Throwing her a questioning look, he shook his head. "I don't know, Maze. He said he's done the most selfish thing there is. I mean… sure… it's selfish to not help another person when you know you can, but… is that enough to go to this length to find your own twisted version of a redemption?"
"He obviously thinks it's a religious sin of some sort, so maybe he goes by the book?" she suggested, letting her daggers snap into her palms, before gesturing around with them. "What does it say again with those ten funny rules?"
He hated the whole religious topic. Not only because it always felt personal as it was basically all about his family. No. It was because it was so asphyxiating, so overbearing and so terribly cliché. Over time, millions upon millions of humans had interpreted countless things into their belief in his Almighty Father. They fought wars, hunted and slaughtered each other in His name and to gain His appreciation. The worst part was that they all had no bloody clue. Nobody had. Nobody really knew what God wanted, what would make Him forgive. "You mean the ten commandments. What a blasted load of BS…" he muttered and took a sip from his drink. "I mean, except for the whole killing and such, of course. Let's see… Maybe he didn't honour his parents?"
"Pff… Who does honour them anyways? What about stealing? That's on the list as well, right? Stealing is seen as pretty selfish, I guess?" she added with a shrug and tipped the backside of one of her daggers against her chin in thought.
"Yes… but the most selfish? Really?" Lucifer challenged and shook his head. "No… No. It doesn't feel big, not… impactful enough."
"What else did that idiot say to you, except this whole selfish deal?"
Resting his head back in his neck, he released a soft groan and closed his eyes, trying to put his memories back together in a logical order. It wasn't easy to dive back into them, but what was even harder were the feelings that were attached to the memories that had emerged along with them. He dove into the dark pool of his traumatic experience, letting the images build up around him again, form the scenery.
The light was blinding, he felt sticky and cold, but above all he felt dizzy and nauseous. He could see himself in the mirror, his beautiful wings on the ground. Divine whites tainted with crimson. Bleak bones, broken and adorned from loose muscles and sinews. The burning pain in his shoulders was maddening, yet it felt so dull at the same time. A blur of blues moved in front of him and his eyes refocused on the man. Recalling the sound of his voice, his own lips began to move as he cited him. "I will bring Him the sacrifices necessary to redeem myself. He will forgive me. And then He will allow me into His holy kingdom. He won't reject me again."
With great effort he pulled himself free from the memory, wading through the sticky, black mass that clung to his mind like tar. Opening his eyes, he gasped. A cold, wet feeling on his hand made him glance down, only to realize that his hand was trembling from the aftershock of the memory, spilling his drink in little splatters. Quietly, the words of the head nurse rang in his ears, telling him how it could need hours or days to fully process a flashback.
No. Now wasn't the time to slouch on the couch and waste time pitying himself or letting those memories crush him. Besides, the latest flashback was child's play in comparison to his memory of being butchered. It made no sense why his latest flashback should be any more difficult to process.
Quickly composing himself and forcing his hand to stop trembling, he gritted his teeth. He wiped his hand against his pants and hoped Maze wouldn't notice. As he glanced over towards her, he spotted her leisurely sitting on the edge of his desk, her dark eyes scrutinising him. She had noticed, apparently, but she knew better than to make a comment about it.
"Again," Maze stated without further specifying, her lips curling back in a silent snarl.
"Again? Again what?" he asked, clueless. He could tell she had picked something up that he had missed.
"Yes. Again. This is the second time he said it: Again. First he said he wants to get back into your Father's graces again. And then he said that with his crazy sacrifices he's not gonna be rejected again."
"Not rejected again… Rejected from His holy kingdom. From heaven?" he muttered, his heart thundering with the possibility of a lead being just in reach. "But that makes no sense. How could he be rejected from heaven again if he wasn't there before? And how could he have been there before? I mean, he's not dead, he… he's..." Trailing off, his mind stumbled over the man's words over and over and a dark premonition spread inside of him.
"He's what?" Maze asked, confused about his sudden silence. "Lucifer?" Jumping down from his desk, she made her way over to him, waving a hand in front of him, but he didn't react, his eyes not snapping up to meet hers. "Lucifer, he's what?!"
[Secession Studios - Wolf At The Door]
He didn't hear her anymore as his gaze darted into nothingness, his mind piecing together the fragments of what he knew. "Bollocks…" he breathed, feeling the knot of confusion untangle. It was getting clearer. There was an option, but he wasn't sure of what it all meant and he wasn't sure in what way certain things had been influenced by it.
He needed to know. He needed to know for sure, but how could he get to any proof? First things first, he thought, set aside his glass and folded his hands in prayer, completely ignoring Maze who stared at him, dumbfounded. He prayed in silence, urging his sister to visit him, begging her to help him not just for his sake but also to find Flora's killer and to stop him before he could murder anyone else. Seconds passed by, but his sibling did not show. He urged the angel again and again until finally the sound of rustling feathers announced the arrival.
"Azrael! Finally! Bloody hell, what took you so long?!" he exclaimed, exasperated and somewhat upset.
Drawing back her dark wings, the quirky looking angel stepped from the balcony towards him, and pushed back her green cowl to reveal her face. The circles under her eyes were not a sign of temporary overwork, but sadly a visual trait that went hand in hand with her job. "Lu! You know I've got a busy job, okay?!" she grunted, peevishly. "It's not like there's a single second where there's nobody dying on earth." The angel's head turned towards Maze and her jaw locked in a second of disapproval before she focused back on her brother. "So what's that emergency all about?"
"Yeah," Maze grumbled, sheathed away her daggers behind her back and crossed her arms. "Why call your baby sister?"
Closing the distance to his sister, Lucifer's gaze turned less upset and more urgent and pushy. "Tell me, Azrael. Did you bring someone back from the dead lately?" His chest began to rise from tense breathing, the possibility that had crept up in his mind almost at the point of painful as it crawled its way to the surface.
Her juvenile features grimaced, affronted, her brows coming down in disapproval. "Excuse me?! What are you accusing me of, Lu?"
He flinched, suddenly realising how his question had sounded not at all what he wanted it to come across like. "I'm sorry, sister. I'm not accusing you of anything. I just need to know if you did. I have reason to believe someone has gone past the threshold but somehow got back to the land of the living and I can only assume that you would know about it for obvious reasons."
Azrael's eyes continued to size him up sceptical and hurt for a few more seconds, before his apologetic puppy-eyes broke through her defence. "Well… you know it happens from time to time. Modern medicine and all that. The line between life and death isn't as finite as it once was. Sometimes a person manages to cheat death and gets lucky."
Modern medicine. Medicine. How fitting for the topic of looking for a surgeon. But it meant something else in the matter of this case. It wasn't about medicine in that sense. Not a drug. It was about a person being revived. "So you say there have been cases like that lately? Let me be more precise with my inquiry. Have you brought back the soul of a surgeon in LA, say... two months ago?"
Raising a brow at her brother, Azrael blew her cheeks and released a sigh. "Erm… I mean… I'm not exactly memorising every single soul I carry across or bring back, Lu… The job is hard enough as it is..."
His expectation began to falter. He knew the burden of a difficult job. It was why he had always felt quite connected with his sister, only that her job had not been intended to be a punishment, although he figured it most certainly appeared like one. "Please, Azrael, try to remember," he desperately urged her, his voice softening. "He has cold, piercing, blue eyes and a kinda creepy, low voice. Does that ring a bell?"
Sighing again, the angel of death let her gaze shift as she tried to remember. "Let me see… erm… I'm not sure about any surgeon. But I remember someone with really piercing blue eyes. Maybe mid forties, short, brown hair."
Lucifer almost had to choke out his words as his throat closed with a lump from so much pressure on the matter. A lead. It was really a lead. And she already had more information than him. Mid forties. Short, brown hair. That was something that could really help them find this bastard. His tone turning lower and more gnarled, his hellfire eyes flashed up with rising anger, thinking about him. "Tell me more. Everything you remember of him. How did he end up with you? How did he come back? Where was that? When? What's his bloody name? Give me everything."
Starting to pace back and forth in front of his couch, Azrael lowered her head and chewed on her lower lip in thought. "Uuugh… Yeah… Maybe a bit over two months ago? I got to him in a hospital, I think. He looked kinda pale-ish-blue of some sorts. He just had… you know…" Trailing off, she stopped her pacing, and looked at Lucifer. Then she tilted her head awkwardly to the side and used her hand in a pulling motion from her neck upwards.
He listened and watched her gesture in a mix of surprise, shock and excitement, all entangled with each other in a throbbing ball inside of his chest that yearned for closure and when Azrael demonstratively let her tongue loosely slip out of her mouth and her eyes rolled back into her head, he understood. "He hanged himself?" It was not much of a question but more a statement. The pieces were starting to come together.
"Uh-hm," she confirmed with a sad smile and nodded. "He was pretty eager to leave with me. He wasn't scared at all." Her expression shifted to a comical 'oops'-face. "But I suppose that was because he didn't know where he was heading…"
Lucifer's jaw dropped while his right brow rose in surprise. "You don't say…?"
"Hell. Yep. The realm of crispy self-torture. That was his destination," she said in a sing-song voice.
He had been in hell. If this was the right person - and he did have a pretty decent gut feeling about it - then this was an explanation for not only the man's wish for redemption, but also his overall crazy way of trying to get to it. He had become truly mad. And the most selfish thing didn't have anything to do with another person. It hadn't been about the man having maltreated anyone else. At least not another human. He had disrespected God's most precious gift, life itself, by taking his own life and committing suicide. The most selfish act.
But there were still so many questions unanswered, so many things an absolute mystery. "Alright, so then what happened? You said you think he hanged himself in a hospital. Did you take a look around?"
"No, that I did not," she admitted and shortly glanced towards Maze as if she expected the demon to make a move and swing her daggers at her. "But a few minutes after I brought him to hell, I felt pulled towards his body again. So I took a hold of his soul and brought it back to earth. I appeared at his body's side which was then laying on the ground. There were many people in doctors coats and nurses around him. They were reviving him. And, like I said, he was one of the lucky ones. His soul slipped back in and I left for the next job."
What a curious story. The man had tried to commit suicide for whatever reason, stupidly enough inside of a hospital, went to hell for several minutes, and got revived. If he could now confirm that the guy was in the USC Medical Center, then it would be a definite hit. "You wouldn't happen to know the name of the hospital or that of the guy, would you?"
"Sorry Lu. I don't know anything else," she apologised with a concerned frown. "Why do you wanna know all of this anyways? Did he do something bad since he's back?"
Her innocent question was hitting him with such full force, it pushed the air out of his lungs, and his heart felt as if it had just been squeezed into a mushy jam. "You could say that," he uttered bitterly and took a deep, long breath. "Thank you, Azrael. I know I kept you from your duties…"
With a wave of her hand and an adorable Pffft! she shook her head. "Don't sweat it. I just hope to hear from you again in this millennia, and not just because you need something from me."
It was a bit of a painful jab, but she did have a point. Among all his siblings, and aside from Amenadiel, she was certainly the only one he could consider spending time with without feeling the need to crawl out of his skin or disappear in a hell loop. "Will try, Rae Rae," he fondly used her nickname, offering her a soft smile.
She returned the gentle smile before making her way onto his balcony and unfurling her wings, and within a blink of an eye and beat of her wings, she was gone again.
He stared towards the balcony in eerie silence, realising how the sun had already settled. His mind wandered over to the Detective, figuring she might already have gone home from work. She was probably having dinner with her spawn by now, talking about each other's day, what they wanted to do in the evening, maybe watching a movie or playing boardgames.
Should I call her?
"Hey!" Maze pulled him out of his thoughts. "So now what? We are back at the beginning, Lucifer. I could still check the files, find out about that suicide-attempt surgeon and-"
"Still no, Mazikeen," he grumbled and let out a sigh. "I have more information now than before. I know more of his looks now and that he for sure is a human. He died and was in hell which explains his crazy talk and his lunatic butchering. Maybe that's gonna help speed up the process of finding him."
Rolling her eyes, she let out a long stretched sigh and walked her way past him towards the elevator. "Fine. Whatever. If you need me to help with my skill set, gimme a call. Until then, I'm out bounty hunting and keeping my ears open for that sicko."
He knew she was annoyed. Oh, he could understand. He was too. Human laws in a celestially induced case were a huge bother, but he knew following the protocol had its reasons and upsetting or even endangering the Detective was not an option. So he became aware that he had to swallow the bitter pill of his hands being bound until further notice. Grabbing his jacket from the barstool, he sighed and rushed after Maze before the elevator doors could close on him.
"You gonna get your Decker-kuddles, aren't you?" she teased with a provocatively childish voice.
Huffing, he avoided meeting her amused look as well as answering her, and merely pursed his lips. That was answer enough.
[Freight Train Foxes – Lucky Penny]
Much like he had predicted, Chloe and her daughter were having dinner when he arrived. The scent of a fruity tea and something with curry hung in the air as Chloe had let him inside. When he spotted the dishes, he saw they were having chicken with rice and veggies. A small chuckle passed his lips as he saw the pushed-aside pile of peas on the spawn's plate. "Yeah… who in the world likes peas, am I right?" he stated out loud and Trixie was on her feet within a millisecond, storming towards him.
"Lucifer!" she cheered, her arms wide.
"Hello spaw- Ahh…!" Unable to rush back through the door - his clever Detective had already closed it behind him - he raised his arms and braced himself for the impact of the child.
Clutching herself close against him, her cheek pressing against his stomach, she gave him a long squeeze, utterly happy to see him. When she felt a pat on her head, she tilted back to look up at him with a curious expression. "How are you doing?!"
He gazed back down at her somewhat surprised by her very excited question. "I… I am doing quite alright, thank you."
That, however, was obviously not answer enough for her curiosity. "How are your back and your head? Did you get your memories back by now?" she continued, her eyes seeming to become bigger as she asked him innocently.
It was curious how this small, young human, so innocent, so inexperienced in life, held such capacity for affection towards him. He couldn't quite wrap his head around why it was the girl seemed so fond of him, except maybe if she were affected by his charming presence, but telling by the amount of times she had already tricked him into a deal that was less favourable for himself and having a much more generous outcome for her, he came to the conclusion it wasn't his charm that was making her hug him or care for his well being on such a frequent basis. Maybe it was something else he did? Did she like him, because her mother liked him?
Children… Such a bloody mystery, these tiny, cunning creatures...
"I… I erm… My back is much better and as for my head, well, I had quite a few memories return, so I suppose you could say I am recovering," he shared with her, making sure to keep it as superficial as possible and leaving out the gruesome impacts of his flashbacks and what they entailed.
What happened to his back and the memories that had returned from his traumatic experience were certainly nothing he would ever tell a child, especially since he was sure Trixie would take his word for the full truth and not think of him as crazy and that he made that whole story up. She would sincerely believe him and that meant she would have her small, innocent world tainted with a drop of darkness that couldn't ever be taken back. It would be soaked up in her soul and nestle there until she'd someday cross the threshold to the afterlife. No, she had to stay as pure as possible. He'd do everything to keep her from harm to her body and soul, and protect her with his life.
The girl's expression turned wary as he finished his short statement, clearly sensing that he was keeping something from her, but after a few seconds her lips curled up in a smile and her eyes sparkled. "See? I told you it's gonna get better! I'm sure the rest will come back in no time! And mom will help you!"
His gaze travelled to her mother, his heart thumping with affection and gratitude. "Oh she is, spawn. She already helped me so much," he mouthed thankfully, smiling lovingly at his Detective who stood a few feet away, blushing at his words. Finally detaching the little girl from him, he walked up towards her. "I hope I wasn't interrupting you?" he quietly asked, his chin pointing at the dining table.
It was still heart-warming to see him interact with her daughter and how he changed the topic away from something he didn't like to dive deeper into because he felt too warm and fuzzy about it. Usually it was accompanied by a deep inhale of breath, his eyes nervously flickering through the room to find something else to talk about, and him harrumphing to not have his voice give him away as he would start a completely new topic.
She shook her head with an amused smile that she knew he wouldn't be able to decipher. "Nope. Not interrupting. We were just about finished. There is some left, if you like," she asked as she walked back to the table and began cleaning up.
"Oh, no, I don't really feel hungry, thank you," he declined politely and quickly went to help her with the dishes. It was odd, but it felt strangely normal to him to slip into being more domestic when he was not out on the streets with her, fighting criminals. It had become a wholesome routine to meet at each other's place after work and enjoy each other's company, something Chloe had told him before humans funnily called quality time.
Before, he had always thought that quality time meant they would do something exciting, some sort of an event, something out of the ordinary. But then he was surprised to find out it was not necessarily the uncommon events or any crazy happenings. Ironically it were the calm moments, the ones where they'd rest on the couch and he'd have Chloe's legs stretched out across his own to give her feet and calves a gentle massage while relaxing to some soft music or a cheesy movie. It was the moments when the three of them would sit around the table, playing Monopoly, Game of Life, Clue or Scrabble. And now, everytime he knew he'd get a chance to have this quality time with his Decker girls, he was more than happy to settle down with the mundane, domestic things.
And in addition to that, he even got to relax his mind for a while, forgetting about the case and the maniac that was out and about. For a few hours at least, he would get some peace of mind, some calmth, and his world would appear whole and healed.
"Let's play some Scrabble!" Trixie announced as she came rushing back to the cleaned table with the board game in hand.
Not as much of a surprise, the girl didn't wait for either of them to complain about her wish. Exchanging an amused smile with Chloe, he settled down at the table sitting opposite to Chloe and with Trixie in between them.
It was a truly fun game, even though each of them kind of cheated. Every once in a while Chloe laid out a police expression neither Lucifer nor Trixie had heard before. In return, Trixie conjured forth pop-culture expressions and slang words she had picked up at school, making Lucifer question the next generations' mental capacities as it seemed the youth's language was degenerating rather than progressing. And lastly, Lucifer himself did some cheeky moves, using British expressions that the Decker girls had never heard of.
"What's a plonker?" Trixie asked confusedly as he placed the last letter with a sheepish, satisfied smile on his lips.
Chuckling, he grinned at Trixie and then at Chloe, who looked at him with a raised brow, curious about the meaning as well. "Well, it's a British word for a bit of a clumsy idiot... and also into what you kick the mean guys so they drop to the ground and cry like babies."
Her jaw dropping, Chloe gave his arms a light slap. "Lucifer!"
"What?! I'm teaching her useful words and how to be witty with them. If anything, you should thank me," he stated boastfully before pursing his lips and innocently looking away as she stared daggers back at him.
Another hour passed by until they ended their Scrabble session. It was already 10pm and despite it being the weekend, it was time for Trixie to go to bed. After changing into her PJs and brushing her teeth, she said her goodnights to her mom and Lucifer, but not without teasing him about her win on the board game. Unexpectedly, the little girl not only took her mom into a hug, but also pulled Lucifer into another hug before rushing to her room.
"Well, that was… charming," he mouthed with a warm smile, his dreamy gaze shifting from the girl's room towards Chloe. Upon seeing her smirk, he raised a brow, his lips curling higher. "What?"
"Lucifer, you've got a softie hugger within you! I had no idea," she teased, biting her lip, unable to keep from chuckling.
"I've told you, I have layers!" he cooed back playfully and with a swift pull on her hand, swirled her towards him. She let out a squeal and stopped her involuntary movement with her hands against his chest, giggling. Slipping his arms around her waist to hold his hostage in place, he looked down at her along his nose, smirking. "A very magnetic onion, don't you think?" he added, snickering, and leaned in to kiss her.
Humming in agreement, she tilted her head upwards, sighing contently at the feel and taste of his lips. "Magnetic indeed," she murmured, nuzzled against his big nose and pulled away slowly.
Happy about his positive effect on her, he grinned, proudly telling her the news. "And I've got even more in me," he added, triumphantly. "I've learned something about our butcher today..." His hand lifted with a raised finger to keep her from protesting or questioning his methods. "All information was acquired very legally… I suppose. Well, I can't say any human law was broken. It was a rather celestial insight."
Chloe took a second to absorb what he said. She took note of how he had honoured her line of protocol and still managed to get some form of information, because, of course she knew he wasn't one to sit around and do nothing. Reaching up to his cheek, she lovingly caressed over his stubbles, admiration in her eyes. "That's amazing, Lucifer," she complimented him and sat down with him on the couch. Once cuddled against him, she went on. "What did you learn and… equally as important, how did you learn it?"
Arms wrapped around her, he held her head lovingly tucked in beneath his chin, resting against his chest. "I had stumbled over something the man said to me. It made me suspicious, so I called for my sister Azrael."
Her head tilted to look up at him, surprised. He hadn't mentioned many of his siblings yet. If she remembered correctly, she actually just heard of Amenadiel and their much hated sibling Michael who she hadn't met yet. "What's this Azrael like?" she asked, not specifying the obvious meaning of her question she was sure he knew: Did she like him or not? Was she one of the bullies and had been condescending towards him or was a cool sibling?
The expression in her face was curious to him, so riddled with suspicion, wariness and a fierceness he had often seen spark in her eyes when she was protecting her child from harm. Was she defensive over him in the means to shield him from harm coming from his celestial family? "She's a little quirky, and, even though she's got quite the dreary job, she's actually a real quipster." Smiling fondly over his sister, he let out a little laugh in reminiscence over their early sibling bond.
Her initial defensive and suspicious mode dropped at his words and the sight of his smile, and she was left with a tiny melancholia, wondering how it was like to have siblings, especially ones you were on good terms with. "What dreary job does she have? Is it as dreary as yours was?" she asked, drawing lines with her fingers over the smooth fabric of his shirt.
He stayed silent for several long stretched seconds, thinking. Surely Azrael's job wasn't one to envy, that was out of question, but whereas he had been doomed with an eternity of a place of suffering, she had at least the possibility for her mortal entourage to be brought to heaven. She had the opportunity to not be solely surrounded by horror, but also relief and happiness. Still, her job held other difficulties to endure, burdens to shoulder. She was the first being a dead human was talking to. She had to explain to them what was going on and where they were heading. She had to listen to the shock, the grief, the pain and despair. She had to bring them to their destination… and leave them, only to head straight to the next soul that needed guidance to the afterlife.
"She is the Angel of Death," he murmured thoughtfully. "It's her job to bring the souls of the deceased to heaven or hell. It's certainly not a job she gets envious glances for."
Chloe's eyes widened with surprise, her mind drawn back from its little daze to full focus. "There's an Angel of Death?! You're telling me, when I die… your sister, Azrael... she comes and brings me to heaven or hell?"
The weight of her response hit him rather unprepared and his chest tightened painfully at the thought of her dying. A fact, a reality, he preferred not to think about, because he knew he could never change it. "Yes… One day… at the end… she'll be there and she'll guide you to heaven." There was no alternative to mention for her. Not only did it seem absurd, but he could not imagine a scenario why she would end up in hell. A miracle of god, a human whose creation was of such divine intervention, was surely impossible to end up in hell.
It was impossible to miss how much he was moved by the topic, the light tremble in his throaty voice and the nervous glance from her eyes down to her hands and back to her eyes being clear indicators for her. She could see the despair in his dark pools of brown and the small hint of tears as they were shimmering more wetly in the dimmed lights of her living room. "And what does Azrael have to do with our butcher?" she asked quietly, intentionally taking the topic back to its origin.
Thankful for her switch of direction of their conversation - he knew she did it on purpose, for both their sake - he took a long, preparing breath. "Well, as it turned out, our butcher has committed suicide, or at least tried to. You see, it happens from time to time, that a person dies and Azrael brings the soul to its destination, but then, because of medical intervention, the dead body gets revived, so she brings the soul back into its body."
Chloe stared open-mouthed, the extent of what he was saying sinking in just very slowly. She thought of the times she had seen cardiac massage at more than a dozen crime scenes, while she had still been a police officer doing her patrols. On more than one occasion, she had witnessed people dying, the efforts of the medics sadly not bearing fruit. But the opposite had happened as well. She could recall at least six people who had been unbelievably lucky. Despite a short moment of the portable defibrillator's monitor showing a flat line, the massage helped the victim's heart to begin pumping again and come back to the living. It never really occurred to her since she was now in the know about celestialness, that there was more truth to it than just that superficial thought.
Those lucky people had been truly dead and thus had either been to heaven or hell. Heaven, perhaps being that well heard of 'light at the end of the tunnel'? But consequently, what did it mean for people who had gone to hell? What had they seen?
Lucifer's information was still sinking deeper into her and eventually it hit her. "He was in hell, wasn't he?" she breathed, her expression shifting from surprise to low-key contempt.
He nodded in silent confirmation. "Unfortunately Azrael couldn't tell me much more. She remembered his eyes, that he had short, brown hair and that he was maybe in his mid-forties. I think he truly wanted to die. Azrael said he was looking forward to the afterlife, only that he didn't know his soul was about to go south." Exhaling a sigh, he moved one arm from her back to gently take a hold of her hand, enjoying the warmth her slender, delicate fingers radiated and transferred into him. "Perhaps he has been mad before his death, but his short trip to hell certainly has made it worse. I mean, just remember Malcolm..."
It was strangely not the first time during this investigation she had thought of her former colleague, the corrupt cop, complete maniac and serial killer Malcolm. Previously, she had remembered him when Lucifer told her of what divine exposure could do to a human mind. "He was in hell for a few seconds and went completely crazy."
"Exactly. Azrael said she brought back our butcher a few minutes later into his body, so that means a hundred years give or take a few decades he was in hell. I'm afraid the human souls' sanity isn't like a fine whisky. It's not getting any better the more time passes by in hell." Leaning over her head a little more, he placed a kiss on top of it, and let her snuggle back against him. "In any case, that's all we have, so I hope the additional celestial insight is able to help us."
More than a hundred years in hell. She could see how there was more than enough time to drive a soul mad during that time. Crazy people were unfortunately always the most tricky to catch. They were unpredictable, even when following a certain pattern. She knew they'd have to be extremely careful when closing in on their killer. "I'm sure it'll help us one way or another, Lucifer." Pausing for a moment, she recalled something he had explained before. "Do we know why he wanted to kill himself? You said that Azrael mentioned he seemed to look forward to the afterlife, obviously thinking he'd go to heaven. Why do that in the first place?"
Releasing a low sigh, he shrugged. "I don't know. The usual reasons suicide victims have? Perhaps he was deeply depressed. Or maybe a beloved spouse died or he was suffering some medical condition and he would've been carried off by illness over a long period of time. Maybe he's lost his savings, got blackmailed, I mean, who the bloody hell knows?"
"Right…" she murmured with a sigh of her own and snuggled a bit deeper into the comfort of his arms, her eyes fluttering tiredly. "Well... in any case. His trip to hell explains why he was so angry at your remark."
Another complex, eventful day had gone by and they had had their struggles to get through it. Being closer at least a noticeable step towards a suspect, they had made progress, she could feel it in her gut. Now it was a difficult time of waiting and she hoped that the judge would act sooner rather than later.
[Rok Nardin - The Mad King]
It was shortly past 1 am and since it was Saturday already and he knew he needed to be quick with his work. His main present had to be ready for Sunday, because Sunday was the day of the Lord, the day of rest, and he wasn't going to make such a foolish mistake as to do God's work on His holy day. But he figured that now that he had cut his teeth, his work would not take as many hours as before.
The lure had been perfect. She had stepped out of the airport in all her God-given beauty, looking just like he had been informed: Endless, slender legs had walked gracefully towards him in bronze high-heels. Her creme, sleeveless turtleneck dress had clung delicately against her feminine curves and ended just above her knees. But her attire had paled at the perfection of her face and hair. Big locks of copper-red hair had curled along her oval lined face, the tips reaching a little longer than her shoulders and some strands had seemingly innocently danced towards right on the swell of her breasts as her steps made them bounce just the tiniest bit. Her plum lips had been full and pursed, painted with a soft glistening, peachy lipstick, that sparkled along with the warm rouge on her cheeks.
Most overwhelming though, had been her eyes. They were almost glowing, shimmering in shades of light blue and turquoise. Added with her mascara and eyeshadow they were pools to drown in. Captivating. Bewitching. They alone were enough to taint a man and tempt him into sinning.
But none of her beauty had saved her from his determination to remove what she was undeserving of and what he would give a new, divine purpose. She had thought he would bring her to her most desired place, lured by her personal interest, but that was not what awaited her.
Oh no, not at all.
Seated in his car, she had no time to react at all when he pulled out the syringe with zolpidem and jabbed her into the side of her throat. Her beautiful eyes had ripped open, but she was gone before she could even begin to make a scene.
And now... now she was ready. Having laid her on the tilt table and fixated with straps all across her body, he abrasively set the IV on the back of her right hand. Just like with the Devil, he was surely not going to treat her with kid gloves.
The transparent liquid trickled from the bag through the IV line until it began pressing itself into the woman's vein. She stirred as the zolpidem started losing its effects, but he was not concerned as the new drug entered and compromised her system within moments. Her beautiful turquoise eyes fluttered open, just the way he had calculated it to happen. It was important for him that she was able to see. It was important for him that she'd have all her senses ready, while her muscles wouldn't follow her brain's desperate instructions to get away.
Her eyelids fluttered until they finally stayed open and her irises followed his movements as he stepped in front of her. Her head was already not moving anymore, just like her hands. Only her chest was slightly rising and falling to her flat, rapid breathing. It took another two seconds after her eyes had focused on him, that she realised something wasn't right.
He knew that the common reaction would be to widen one's eyes in surprise and shock, but she couldn't, even though he was sure she desperately wanted to.
There was no escape now.
No way to escape God's wrath.
...Yes… You are the wrath of God! Punish them all! They are undeserving of walking the earth!...
...Do it! He will be proud of you!
...Yes… Yes.. and He will take you back into His realm, ha ha ha ha!...
...And then you see your dear Samantha again...
The voices made him smile. They knew what God wanted. They were the true angels, he was sure of it. They told him what he needed to do in order to get back into His graces. In order to see Samantha again and be with her for all eternity.
He ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth in excitement. He didn't know exactly what his new presents looked like and he was more than curious to find out. All it needed was a little nudge. "Let's see what yours looks like," he whispered, smiling behind his mask, and walked around her.
The woman's eyes began to glisten as they followed his movements without turning her head until he disappeared from her vision.
He knew she was terrified and he relished in it.
Grabbing the cattle prod from the trolley, he turned on the switch and took a step behind her to be in a safe distance. With his arm and the prod outstretched, he reached towards her shoulders and let the electric surge shoot into her back.
A/N: MUAHAHA! I hope I haven't disappointed you with this lovely chapter! What do you think? Sick bastard or poor lost soul? A mixture of both? And who's that gorgeous but very unfortunate lady? I hope you enjoyed this very "mad" chapter! Leave me your reactions, thoughts and hopes and see you in the next one!
- Luni