2 DAYS
Chloe slid into her desk chair, her hand automatically adjusting the sunglasses covering her bloodshot eyes. She was hoping for a quiet day as the rest of the department focused on solving the mass murder scene found at The Mayan the day before. She felt like she had a huge black hole in her chest sucking up every good feeling.
"Chloe!" The cheery call echoed throughout the bullpen as Ella practically bounced her way over from her lab. "Where were you yesterday? You totally missed out on the biggest murder mystery this city will ever have!"
Chloe rubbed her temples against the verbal onslaught. "I was up half the night the other night looking for baby Charlie…." Ella opened her mouth to speak, but Chloe ignored her. "We found him; he's unharmed. But the… uh… guys who kidnapped Charlie did it to get back at Lucifer. So afterwards, I went over to the penthouse to talk, and…."
Chloe wasn't telling her story fast enough, apparently, so Ella interrupted, her words tripping over each other. "Oh my god! Is Lucifer all right? I mean, how is he handling that? Where is the big guy anyway?"
Chloe squinched her eyelids shut, letting the fluids do their best to soothe the scratchiness. "He went home." She tried her hardest to keep her voice emotionless.
"Where is home, anyway? Somewhere in England, obviously …."
"Hell, Ella. He's the Devil, remember? He went back to Hell."
Ella scrunched up her nose. "So… he's in Michigan?"
Time passes differently in Hell than on earth. The perpetual twilight made it difficult to mark the hours. But to the vast majority of the residents, time was irrelevant anyway. Demons would live until the end of eternity. Or until they were destroyed by their brethren. The damned had only the limited sense of time passing before their hell loop reset.
The only one who cared was the newly restored king of Hell. How much time had passed on earth? Was it long enough for her to realize he was never coming back? Had her broken heart started to mend? Were her memories of them fading into the haze?
But Time had no answers to give. And those who could have provided answers stayed away far from this domain.
And so the Devil took up his mantle, ruling over his kingdom with an iron fist. He reigned in rogue demons. Oversaw the torture regimen of the new psychopaths and mass murderers who damned themselves to Hell during his absence. Made a special guest appearance at more than one of Cain's torture sessions.
And he brooded. He sat on his throne high above the denizens of Hell or wandered through the warrens below. Absently listened to the screams and cries that passed through the doors. Those blasted, damned, unlocked doors.
And all the while, he thought of his detective. The way she looked when she was focused on a case. The way she rolled her eyes at his puns or lechery. The thousands of ways she smiled. When she was afraid of him. Afraid for him. The amazing way it felt when it seemed like they were the only two beings in existence. Her surprisingly bad attempts at seduction. And one really good one. Her eyes glassy with unshed tears as he told him she thought he could use a friend. Tears streaming down her face as she called out her love and begged him not to leave her.
Cain's unselfish act lifted his curse. If there was any sense of justice, Lucifer would have found himself right back on the balcony after his own first unselfish act. But no, one little rebellion against Dad and he was doomed to rule Hell for all eternity.
Or maybe Dr. Linda had been right all along…. 'When angels fall, they also rise. All that you have to do is embrace all that you are.' On the perverted altar at the Mayan, he had certainly done part of that. Accepted his place as the King of Hell. Working with Chloe and living with Eve had allowed him to explore every desire, from the truly good to the truly wicked. And reaffirmed what he had told Linda during one of their early sessions. 'I punish the guilty.'
But therein lies the rub. The guilty went straight to Hell. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200.
G. U. I. L. T. Y.
Cain seemed to think that, even after the crimes he had committed, he was going to Heaven. So, were there murderers up there? People who felt no guilt over their misdeeds and so therefore were not doomed to Hell?
But, no. Hilter certainly felt no remorse. Neither did Goebbel. Or Nero. Or the thousands of other mass murderers currently being tortured. So there was some criteria sending those psychopaths to Hell.
But…. And it was a big but.
Charlotte hadn't actually committed any crimes before her first death. She worked within the limits of the law to protect men and women she knew to be criminals, but she herself had never committed a crime. And yet, she went to Hell based solely on her own conviction that she was guilty for murders and other crimes committed by her clients after she did her job.
As despicable as Professor Carlyle was in the end, he was not in Hell over his guilt from poisoning people. Or his suicide. Or even trying to manipulate others to hurt themselves in order to save the poisoned people. No, his Hell loop was to relive the car crash…. He wasn't the one who caused the crash. He could have tried to save the driver, yes, but there is nothing inherently wrong or even immoral about running away from a potential death sentence. And in cases of drowning, the advice lifeguards give out is to get a professional in the water who knows to stay a certain distance from the victim. Drowning victims have been known to kill their rescuers as they attempt to stay afloat…. Carlyle's guilt over leaving the scene sent him to Hell….
How many damned souls were being punished for a crime they didn't commit as opposed to the ones they did? Or worse… how many were damned after not having done anything actually wrong but just thought they did?
After mulling this around in his head for a while, (a month? A year? How much time had passed on earth?) he opened a door to one of the damned caught in a Hell loop.
She was small, barely taller than the detective's spawn. And seemed even smaller still as she knelt, head bowed and hands clasped in prayer, on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. The salty air was gritty with sand. The sound of gulls screeching set against the crashing of the waves against the cliff base. Tall grasses waved in the stiff breeze. Then she stood up, crossing herself. "Dear Lord. Please forgive what I am about to do. And may You have mercy on my soul," she begged. And stepped off the cliff.
A few heartbeats later, she appeared a hundred or so feet away from the edge. She walked slowly through the grasses, knelt to pray, stood and begged, and fell to her death. He watched her fall several times before he stepped through the doorway right before she materialized.
"Oh," she exclaimed. "I did not know anyone else was going to be here."
"You came here to kill yourself. But you are obviously a God-fearing girl." He cocked his head to the side. "I'd like to understand."
"How… how do you know that?" she stuttered and sidled a few steps back.
He smiled, trying to put her at ease. "You succeeded. And your God did not have mercy on your soul." She screamed and ran.
"Oh," she exclaimed after she materialized. "I did not know anyone else was going to be here."
He decided not to reveal she was in Hell. "I took an accidental turn and ended up here, mistress…?"
"Mary," she supplied.
"How contrary," he murmured, wishing his detective was there to laugh with him. He firmly squashed the impulse to ask how her garden grew. "And what brings you to this secluded area of the world?"
She gazed out over the ocean; "Peace," she whispered. Then she walked to the cliff edge, seemingly forgetting his presence, and knelt in prayer.
"Oh," she exclaimed. "I did not know anyone else was going to be here."
"Good afternoon, Mistress Mary," he offered.
"Do I know you?" she questioned hesitantly.
"My name is Luci; we met briefly a while ago." It was not technically a lie.
"Oh," she bit her lip. "It must have been when I was a child; I do not remember you."
"You seem to be hardly more than a child now…" She had a woman's breasts lying under her homespun bodice, but based on her facial features she could not have been older than thirteen or fourteen when she died.
"I have been a woman for more than a year," she retorted. "And a married woman for almost as long." She turned away in a huff, forgot he was there, and began her walk.
"Oh," she exclaimed. "I did not know anyone else was going to be here."
"Mistress Mary! It has been some time since last we met!" Again, not technically a lie. "And how is your husband doing this beautiful day?" He kept his tone jovial, hoping that he could keep her talking for longer this time.
To his surprise, she burst into tears. "He is away, fighting for our King and God in the Holy Land. I have not seen him since the winter before last. The first long thaw after Yule saw them marching off to the ships…. I can only pray that God strengthens his body as well as his soul as he battles against the infidels. And that he never learns of my shame…."
"Oh," she exclaimed. "I did not know anyone else was going to be here."
"A good afternoon to you, Mistress Mary. We meet again. I had heard you were married recently. I offer you my heartfelt congratulations."
She curtseyed. "I thank you, kind sir. My good man and I were indeed married by proxy after the last harvest."
"By proxy? It is such a shame that a beautiful woman, such as yourself, is left to fend for herself. I hope he is away for a good reason and is not neglecting you…."
"Oh no, we were betrothed before he left to fight in the Holy Land. But I was not yet a woman, so our marriage had to wait. I lived with his mother and father these last months learning how to be a good wife for him." Her shoulders drooped and she hung her head. "Or I did until this morning." She hunched even further in on herself. "My husband's brother caused me to shame both of our families this morning." She turned to face the sea and whispered to herself, "And now I will pay for a sin I did not knowingly commit with an even greater one that I choose willingly."
"Oh," she exclaimed. "I did not know anyone else was going to be here."
He shrugged his shoulders releasing his wings in all their splendour. She dropped to her knees and crossed herself. "Dear God in Heaven…" she breathed. "Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum…"
"Yes, yes," he interrupted. "For thine is the meatball, the noodle, and the sauce, forever and ever. R'amen." And proceeded to ignore her look of complete confusion. "I guess the church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster hadn't arisen during the Crusades," he muttered to himself. "Do you know who I am, child?"
"An angel…" she breathed.
"My name is," he swallowed harshly, forcing the hated name past his lips, "Samael." She probably would have recognized every other name. Satan, Beelzebub, Lucifer, Baal, and so on were all commonly used terms for the Devil.
"Am I dead? Am I in Heaven?" she questioned, hesitantly, afraid that the second answer would be no.
"Yes, you are dead. About a thousand years ago, give or take a century or two, you committed suicide. And your guilt for that sin sent you to Hell. Over and over, you walk up this hill, pray for forgiveness, and die. Satan's demons are eager to have you punished for eternity, but I am not so sure. Confess your sins, child."
"Forgive me, Fath… er, my Lord Angel, for I have sinned. I stole an apple when I was about six."
He snorted impatiently. "Let's just stick to your recent sins, shall we? Say, just since you became a woman."
"Yes, my Lord Angel" she whispered looking at his feet. "I have thought ill thoughts about my husband's mother. She is very strict with me, as she should, but my efforts seem to be in vain as I am never quite good enough. She says I am a failure and she regrets wedding me to her son. I try to be a dutiful daughter to her, but some days it is very hard to keep my mouth silent. I pray constantly that I may learn to be the daughter she deserves, but even that does not stop me from thinking about cutting out her tongue or pouring boiling water on her hands. My sole consolation is that my own mother calls her a harpy, so I know I am not alone in my thoughts.
"This morning, I had carnal relations with a man not my husband. I was gathering eggs when my husband's brother pushed me down and lay on top of me. I screamed and cried for him to stop! It hurt so much! Mother came running and saw what I was doing with her son. She called Father over to see my shame. They called me a Jezebel. A whore. Claimed I had used my womanly wiles on my husband's brother. They told me to leave and never return." She wiped away some of the tears streaming down her face. "I went to my own mother and father and told them what happened. My mother slapped me and told me she had raised me to be better than a whore. My father tossed me over his shoulder and threw me out of his house saying that I was dead to him." She turned her tear streaked face up to him. "I do not even know what womanly wiles are!" she wailed.
She stood up and resolutely faced the cliff. "Dear Lord. Please forgive what I am about to do."
Lucifer stepped in her way. "Kneel, child," he commanded. Mary obediently dropped to her knees, hands clasped in prayer, lips moving silently to the mantra of the Pater Noster. She gazed up at him in complete adoration and submission to his will. He placed a hand on her head, and said, "Here goes nothing." He took a deep breath, "I forgive you, my child. Go and sin no more."
"Thank you my lord Angel. I will pray daily for the Grace of God," he winced, "to continue to live within and upon you, the Angel Samael, and thank you for bringing His blessings to the world." She stood up and smiled, a genuinely happy smile, as she turned away from the cliff and the sea and towards her village. "Do you see that, my Lord Angel? What is that door doing over there? A door in a field, how curious. Where do you suppose it leads?" She walked, almost danced, through the doorway.
The second she closed the door behind her, it was like someone said 'Computer: end program' on the holodeck of the Enterprise. He was left alone in a small blue-gray cell.
The enormity of what he had just done began to sink in. He had just released a damned soul.
Oh. Shit. This is going to be bad.