Author's Note: This is my very first fanfiction ever - please do enjoy and feel free to leave any criticisms in the comments. I Hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Do note that this fic ignores the entire Examtaker storyline, as some of my ideas would conflict directly with its canon, so I guess this story is slightly AU.
Chapter 1: Fall of the Hellherder
The moon bathed the suburban street below in pale light, gleaming through the windows of the houses, casting its soft silver on the floors, the walls, and shimmering in the still water of their swimming pools, so that they became like panes of mirrored glass. In the light only the smallest of creatures stirred, insects creeping unseen and unheard through the grass of well kempt lawns, bats fluttering with barely a sound, fluttering silhouettes, blotches of ink before the great Pearl in the night.
In one particular household the silver incandescence went through the master bedroom window to fall on the face of the house's owner. He was awake now, his eyes open, intense as they always were, but staring off into the moon. He was thinking, so much so that he was so lost in his thoughts he barely noticed the stirring of something just below his neck. His arms rested under his pillow, his one knee drawn up beneath the cotton sheet. There was an arm draped across his broad chest, as pale as the light that shone into the room, second only in pallor to the stark, silvery white hair of its owner. He shifted his gaze to regard the limb, staring for a moment at it as if it were something that had appeared by some magic, and was not there a moment ago. He looked at the slender wrist, the dainty hand splayed across his ribs. The other occupant was stirring now, murmuring something as they turned into their side and seemed to hold more possessively onto him. He regarded the sleeping face now, the soft, pale, moonlight skin, the full lips, the softly lidded eyes that curtained the most terrifying and arousing red.
Only a moment later did he feel something else, something like a thin snake, drape itself across his thigh beneath the snowy covers. He turned his head back to the street, the silence, the bizarre tranquillity of the empty tar-road and soft street light. He knew he would be unable to sleep again. He reached a hand out into the darkness, clumsily fumbling until his hand hit its mark, the small nightstand that would let out a small light at the touch of a button. 4:33 - he would not need to wake for another hour and a half, but Heaven and Hell knew he wasn't going to fall back asleep, so he resolved to begin making breakfast early. He used all his skill to shift his weight as subtly as possible, no easy task considering his immense size, king size bed notwithstanding. When he was finally free and certain that he had not roused his bed mate, he moved across the wooden floor with a quiet grace that belied his hulking frame. He treaded slowly into the kitchen, not quite ready to turn on the lights. He mused that truthfully, he didn't quite need it, as the moonlight mixed with that of the street lamps spilling in through the window was sufficient. He proceeded now, with opening and closing the necessary cupboards, drawers and jars, attempting to do so as quietly as possible.
He had a cup in his hands, placing it on the expensive marble countertop, his finger a millimeter away from touching the button to turn on the kettle, when a pair of pale arms wrapped around his waist, the warm hands moving up over his abdomen and coming to rest on his chest, thumbs rubbing soft circles on his skin and something soft and pleasantly warm pressed to his back. He froze for the barest moment at the unexpected contact, but all tension in him was gone a moment later when he heard a familiar, melodic voice, rich and sweet like heated honey whisper in his ear. 'Don't. It's too early. You'll wake everyone up. I'll take care of that.' The unmistakable, stately intonation of the queen of Hell.
He remained still, unmoving like a statue for a Moment. 'A man might get startled and do something not-so-nice, getting snuck up on like that.' He spoke, only above a whisper, a small smile growing on his lips. He could feel her warm mouth touch the base of his neck, the hot breath washing over his neck, goosebumps flooding across his entire torso. 'As if.' She chuckled. 'I could rip your heart right out of that impressive chest before you knew what happened. Luckily for you, I quite like you alive.'
He snorted in amusement. 'Is it the pancakes?' He said with a wry smile.
'Definitely. Helps that you're nice to look at too. Let me,' she spoke, disentangling herself from him, and moving to take the cup and the kettle, pouring the water. He regarded her now, dressed in only one of his gargantuan, red shirts that draped over her like robe, only the pale legs and spade-tipped tail sticking out beneath, the slender arms only seemed smaller now, coming out of the rolled up sleeves accustomed to strong forearms that were much larger. She held the cup in one hand, taking the index of the other and putting it on the surface of the cold coffee. A few seconds later the water started to boil, and she retracted her finger, a satisfied smile on her lips. She held out the cup to him like a trophy, seeing his raised eyebrow in the darkness. 'That's one hell of a party trick.' He said, turning to the refrigerator, taking out the milk.
'That isn't even my party trick.' She said coyly, stepping past him and planting a kiss on his cheek. As she stood now in the center of the kitchen she was a vision of beauty, the oversized shirt seeming to leave a lot to the imagination, the soft, silvery light from outside reflecting off of her pale skin and hair, accentuating her unearthly beauty. As if sensing this, she began to shift her weight. She never quite became accustomed to the sheer intensity of his natural expression. It was a strange thing to her, for all his unflinching stoicism and mystery, when he began to laugh - and he did often - that such furious eyes could accompany such a disarming and friendly sound. Those eyes that could make her feel certain other emotions. She turned now towards the living room and began to walk with the languid grace of a cat, beckoning that he followed with a few waves of her tail. He seated himself on the couch, placing his cup down on the low, oak table before him. Lucifer moved to the other side, gracefully seating herself right in his lap and bringing her legs to either side, resting her hands on his broad shoulders, bringing her face so close that he could feel her hot breath on his lips, smell the sweet scent of her mouth.
He stared at her lips, then moved his gaze to her eyes, the intense red seeming almost black in the darkness. He looked down her neck and saw the pale breasts, soft and round and contrasted against the dark red of the overly large shirt she had chosen as an impromptu gown. His breathing deepened as he looked into her eyes once more.
Only a moment later had she crushed her soft lips to his, a tiny sound escaping from her. Her kiss became deeper, hungry and full of need, as he brought his hands up to her generous hips, reciprocating the depth of her kiss, their tongues caught in an intimate dance. She was rocking her hips into him now, grinding into him, relishing the hardness of his sex against hers. She let out a hiss of pleasure, increasing the force of her movements, the agony and need was becoming unbearable. He broke their contact suddenly, and she let out a tiny whimper. 'I thought you didn't want to wake everyone up?' He said, his mouth still all but touching hers. 'We won't.' She whispered, brushing her lips against his, wanting more contact, giving another roll of her hips to convey her want, which brought her a thrilling growl from his throat that made her thighs throb. Then he began to chuckle softly in the middle of her attempt. 'Oh I know what it means when you kiss me like this. If we carry on, everyone will most definitely wake up. And I don't think 'Monica is going to be very forgiving being woken up at this hour. Much less Modeus or Cerberus if they see how.'
She paused, looking down at his mouth for a moment as if seriously considering his words. "You know I hate it when you are right, right?" She said, climbing off of him.
In a single, graceful movement she had repositioned herself so that her head fell softly in his lap, her hair splayed out like silvery streams over his legs. He ran his strong fingers through her soft hair, her eyes fluttering closed. 'Say, I always wanted to know something.' He said, something in his voice disturbed her, she opened her eyes to look into his again. 'And what might that be? Looking to see what else I can shapeshift into? Perhaps a cat this time?' She said, a wicked smile forming in her lips. 'Fuck no.' He replied, shuddering at the recollection of the time she had turned herself into an anthropomorphic goat as joke. 'You run Hell. What happens now that you're not there? Does someone else run the show while you're gone or what?' Her eyes went wide very suddenly, Something cold had gripped her heart, a hazy memory, indistinct, something she was supposed to remember, scratching at the back of her mind, a silhouette in the fog. 'What is it?' He asked, seeing her far-away stare. She brought a calm to herself, telling herself that she would remember later, her distress only a symptom of her inability to recall. 'No… it isn't like what you think.' She began, slowly, as if counting her words. 'Hell does not need to be "run" in that way. It is truthfully a very self-sustaining system. Most of it is just the souls of the sinful, wandering around aimlessly, no purpose, no drive, no feeling… up until judgement day. The only thing they might desire is to escape, and as you've seen it is very possible to get in and out… The demons are there to ensure they do not. An escaped soul that has been condemned… that can cause quite the problem in this realm.' He let out a low whistle. 'That's actually pretty interesting. And when is judgement day? Or am I not allowed to know? Do you have it marked off on some kind of calendar?' Despite his smile, she stared onwards, the cold feeling returning to her heart again. 'No, God only knows.'
He chuckled. 'So you're clueless too?'
'Well yes.' She said, 'I mean that quite literally. Only God knows.' She sighed. 'I don't even think it's going to happen, to be perfectly frank. Maybe the Man Upstairs can forget things.' She chuckled, pushing down the gnawing dread of whatever it was that she had in fact forgotten. 'I thought you hated him? Why take orders from someone you despise? Why not just start it when you like, end the world?'
She laughed now, reaching up to caress his face. 'You humans can still be so silly, so naïve. Our relationship is…. Complicated. There was a time where we got along, then I fell. I suppose I'm lucky I was not outright winked out of existence, much to Uriel's disappointment. You know the rest, tempt people here, cause chaos there, run the greatest prison in the universe. I haven't spoken to Him since you were a bunch of apes. As for ending the world, I don't enjoy destroying things just for the sake of it, you know. I'm Lucifer, not Loki. Besides, I've come to… enjoy your world, even your species.' She smiled softly at him now, bringing her soft hand to touch the stubble on his jaw.
'Also there is honour in having my purpose. All demons and angels agree on that at least… to have a reason to exist, that is of great importance. Also if I ended the world there would be no pancakes and that is the highest no-no on my list of no-no's.' He let out a rumbling chuckle, the voice reverberating through her chest, making her feel warm. A creaking coming from the stairs drew both of their attention, a pair of pale legs came down the stairs, a lithe body in silk shorts and a white T-shirt far too large for her frame. Large red eyes fixed themselves on the two, narrowed over the heart-shaped pupils for a moment and realising the romantic picture formed before her, flushed a deep scarlett, then she moved silently towards the large man, and sitting on the armrest by his side, flung her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook and breathing in deeply of his scent. 'Hungry.' Was all she said, and the Helltaker chuckled, tapping her lightly on her rear and eliciting a surprised squeak from her. 'Guess that's my cue. I'll get the stove going.'
Lucifer rose from her position, and he left the couch, grabbing his neglected mug and downing its contents in a few gulps. As soon as he was out of earshot, Modeus turned to Lucifer, her expression one of worry. 'I'm sorry… was I interrupting something?' She asked, her eyes looking to the queen of Hell, who was now staring off into the distance, distracted, but realised now that she had asked a question. 'Huh? No, just burning the time, we were both awake.'
Modeus seemed to accept that answer, but shifted her weight and continued on regardless. 'Sorry though… you looked comfortable, but it was the only way I could hide my…' she looked at her feet now, and Lucifer was taken aback, but connecting the dots in her mind finished for her. 'Blush? You really do find the whole romance thing perverted don't you?' Modeus nodded, casting her glance to the mountain of a man standing in the kitchen in a pitch black apron making pancakes. It still eluded the CEO of Hell why such a common human concept could stir up such a reaction in Modeus, a literal demon of lust. She mused that Modeus in all probability merely had a penchant for romance and struggled to put it into the right words. The two sat down and turned on the Television, waiting for their mountain to finish making breakfast. The channel had been left on the one that ran the news from around the world, in time to see something that brought that feeling back to Lucifer; A news report showing that there had been widespread blackouts across the globe, followed by riots in several places. Modeus watched intently, transfixed. Next to her, Lucifer had managed to become even whiter than any other day. Modeus however, took little notice, absentmindedly bringing her knees to her chest and playing with the hem of her sweater sleeves. The images flashing across the screen showed scenes of chaos, destruction and violence, fires raging so far across the cities that it had begun to look to the two demons like a place they were very familiar with. People were running like ants without a queen, completely lost, scared. The smell of the Helltaker's pancake making had clearly roused the rest of the house, as the sun rose higher into the air and the scent of food had made its way up the wooden stairs, one by one the other occupants had begun to rise from their beds, first Justice, who came down without her signature jacket and sunglasses, and having forgone tying her hair. Yawning as she walked, she looked at the two demons, giving a lazy wave as she passed behind the couch and stood in the doorframe of the kitchen. She was distracted for a moment, her pale eyes turned towards the kitchen, her expression hungry. An equally furious hunger burned in her eyes when she looked at him.
She could pinpoint sounds and smells with such accuracy that sometimes the others could forget that she couldn't see at all. The silence of the other two occupants in the room drew her attention now, and seeing what had their attention so, turned her head to the flickering screen. 'Woah, holy shit! What's happening out there? Sounds like fucking world war three!' She said, her mouth turning into a satisfied smile at the sounds of carnage.
'If it were the third of their world wars, believe that there would be no magic box for you to watch it on.' A voice spoke, strong, feminine, but authoritative. The three demons in the living room turn their eyes to see Judgement coming down the stairs, her great mass of ashen hair tumbling down over her shoulders to her ankles. 'Why? Maybe because I'd be fighting in it?'
The wry, daring smile on Justice's face did not seem to amuse Judgement at all. She said nothing, still she stood by the stairs, her gaze on Lucifer, who's secret look of terror did not escape her. She resolved that she would ask her later, hoping that she might find her alone. Helltaker had finished now, having a full stack of pancakes ready for each of them, and sent judgement to awaken the remaining seven who had not yet joined them. The kitchen had soon plunged into the usual scene of absolute chaos as the full harem of demons were given their breakfast. Zdrada was of course smoking at the breakfast table again, much to the Helltaker's ire, and he had very nearly managed to have all three of Cerberus sit down to eat. He wondered perhaps, if he would ever grow used to the madness and financial pain they incurred on a day to day basis. He felt that it was better not to allow himself thoughts on how much they had collectively cost him over the last year since he had brought them back from hell, pushing away the thought to fester somewhere deep down and become an inescapable anxiety that would more than likely land him in trouble with the law. Silently placing a fresh cup of coffee in Pandemonica's hands, he sat down next to Luci, whom it occurred to him now, had not uttered a single sound since their tête-à-tête only an hour before. 'Something on your mind?' He asked.
'Nothing.' She replied. 'Nothing you need to worry about.' He looked at her now as if he were struggling to hear her, his scepticism evident in his eyes. She did not look into them. 'We can speak after breakfast. For now, let us not think of such things.' She stood now, and as if to illustrate the seriousness of her feeling, turned immediately towards the lounge and disappeared silently up the stairs. Several moments later, he heard her door close, making a mental reminder to address her strange behaviour. The sharp eyes of judgement were upon where the two sat and only the Helltaker remained.
In the late evening, as the sun had again begun to sink below the horizon, the Helltaker was engaged in an activity that he found himself engaging in ever more as the days went on: He was cleaning the house, refitting the portrait frames and sweeping the floor, incomprehensible mutters coming from his mouth, twisted in annoyance at the shards of glass left from a bottle of Vodka. He was vaguely aware that he was not alone, a sense that had manifested since he had brought demons to his home. Was he ever alone anymore? He suppressed a sense of foreboding. He reached for the light switch, when a lithe, ash coloured hand came from around the corner and wrapped around his wrist. This might have surprised him, had he not known exactly who held him now and grown very used to her foreword behaviour over the months prior. Judgement came around the corner, her intense, silver eyes boring into his with urgent ferocity. She wished to speak to him, he could see that much.
'What is it?' He asked calmly, knowing that despite her directness, she would often sputter and struggle to find the words. It was not now such an occasion. 'Lucifer is hiding something.' She said. The surety with which she spoke was not lost on him. The Helltaker raised an eyebrow, his eyes searching her expression. 'What makes you say that?' He asked, resting his fingers on the wall as she let go of his arm. 'She is frightened of something. She stares at the picture box with doubt and her fear radiates from her skin like a great cloud.'
He scoffed, shaking his head. 'Luci isn't afraid of anything. You must have misread-'
"I did not misread." She interrupted, stepping closer to him now. He could smell her perfume, distracted for a moment by the rise and fall of her ample chest, in the strangest sense more alluring to him now in an oversized night-shirt than her usual attire that covered virtually nothing. His eyes came back to her. If there truly was something that frightened Lucifer, then the mere reality of her fear had Judgement all but in a cold sweat. 'It is my role to read the thoughts of the guilty, punish them accordingly for their sins. I did not misread.' She insisted, her great silver orbs searching his face. 'You must be very careful. I have an unshakable feeling of foreboding.' He was taken back, perturbed by the sternness, her evident conviction. 'I'll go talk to her.' He said, glancing at their closed door. 'And what if she would refuse you the knowledge?' Judgement asked, seeming more fragile now that she had foregone her intimidating armour, concern on her features. He turned from her, his hand on the oak railing, the stairs already creaking under his sheer weight. 'She won't.' He said, his face cast somewhere between a wry smile and a determined frown. He came up the stairs and stood before the spotless, white door of the master bedroom and lifted one of his great hands to knock, but the door opened before he could. She looked up at him, startled for a moment, then she was calm again.
'Surprise?' He said, breaking the silence before it could bloom. 'I wanted to check if you-'
'You wanted to check up on me because Judgement sent you. More than likely she thinks I would rip her head off if she dared ask. She's probably right.' She interrupted, looking past his broad frame to the stairs, as if someone were hiding there in the darkness.
'She's concerned. I didn't think much until she came to me. She never gets upset over anything. So whatever has her so riled up must be quite the shit-show.'
She looked at him with a pained expression for only a second, before her face became a smooth mask of composure once again. 'Come in.' She said.
He complied, closing the door behind him.
He was watching her attentively now, scrutinising her movements, doubting for the first time his own confidence in the situation. He thought that perhaps Judgement may indeed have had reasons to be concerned with her; Lucifer was unable to be still, pacing around the room, seeming like a gliding ghost, the carpeted floor beneath her feet masking her steps. The Helltaker had seen Lucifer in dangerous situations before. Situations that she was the architect of, but nonetheless able to strongarm or talk her way out of. For how composed she was usually, her silent pacing now was as a manic frenzy, of one frightened and in terrible danger.
She stopped suddenly, staring out through the great windows that looked out onto the street and the black sky littered with stars, studded again with the Pearl of a full moon. 'Did you take heed of the moon?' She asked, her stone mask of an expression locked to the sky. The loss of her usually calm and informal way of speaking had not escaped his notice. 'No.' He answered, going to sit on the foot of the bed. His eyes never left her.
'What's so special about it? You going to turn into a puppy?' He said, smirking, but her back remained to him. 'Every night for some time the moon has been full, without fail. Do you know how many there have been?'
'No.' He said, his sharp eyes now looking into hers, searching.
'Seven.' She said, her gaze going for a moment to meet his eyes before she gave her attention again to the silver moon behind the silhouettes of the trees, where great grey clouds had formed, the first announcement of thunder rumbling within.
'I hadn't noticed. Is that special? Does it signal your birthday?' He made one final attempt at brevity, and she hardly reacted to his words at all, the stillness with which she stood had begun to disturb him.
'Seven trumpets, seven seals, seven moons of warning.' She said, turning her head to regard him from her periphery. 'Guess the answer to my riddle and I'll grant you three wishes!' He said, half joking, half mocking. She turned to face him fully, she scowled. 'Are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or do I need to keep playing detective?' He said, unfazed by her indignant expression. She made to move over to him, and flung her hand for his face, but he caught her by the wrist before she could, moving his other hand to her cheek.
'What. Is. It.' He asked, articulating each word as his eyes stared into hers, their faces so close he could feel her breath on his lips. The rain had begun to fall heavily on the windows, the soft rumbling of thunder growing ever louder as the moments passed. She paused now, staring for a moment at the carpeted floor before her eyes came back to his. 'Remember earlier when I said to you, that you need not be concerned?' He let go of her wrist, stepping back and folding his arms over his broad chest. 'Go on.' He said. She pulled at the fabric of her nightgown.
'That might have been-' she was cut off now, her sentence interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.
He continued to hold her in place with his gaze. 'Whoever is here this late at night and in this rain had better have a damn good reason.' He said, turning now to look to the door that led to the stairwell. 'It might be that detective again. You stay here, don't make a sound. We aren't done. But whatever it is, don't worry. I have you. I always will, ok?'
Before she could reply he was out the door and moving down the stairs. He came to the front door, grabbing the brass handle and swinging open the door. There was a figure standing there, soaked to the bone, wetted clothing stuck to their skin, rivulets running down a sunken face. It took him a moment to see the eyes like pools of onyx, not a trace of colour. Before he knew it, something had struck him in the stomach, a dull pain at first, that quickly bloomed into sharp, unbearable agony, weakness in his knees, his entire frame. He couldn't speak or move and he could smell blood, his own blood, feel the warmth pooling in his abdomen. He looked down from the empty face with the black eyes, down the length of the arm to find the hand disappeared, embedded completely in his body. In one swift motion the assailant ripped its hand out, splattering his blood on the floor of the doorway and on the stone path that fed out onto the streets, where it was washed away by the rain. Up in the master bedroom Lucifer only heard the sound of something large -heavy- dropping into the wooden floor of the foyer. In a flash she was out the door, her senses already heightened.
She could smell the blood before she could see it; the Helltaker sprawled on the floor, the crimson pooling on the floor around him, the decrepit figure standing before him, the hand stained with blood. His blood. She shot down the stairs in a single leap, like a snake shooting forward to strike, the wood of the floor splintered under feet as they connected. The figure turned to her, but before it could make the slightest move further, she had wrapped her hand around their throat, looking into their eyes before she ended their existence. But the eyes were black as the night. No remorse or light of intelligence shone there. She recognised the creature, a lesser demon. A ghoul, the risen dead possessed by a malevolent spirit. The colour drained from her now, understanding the reality she now found herself in. She was shaking now, the tears running down her face, the ghoul violently trying to bite at her arm, sluggish and clumsy with her hand around its neck, it was reaching for her face with its bony hands, and in one swift motion she flung it across the room, the creature crashed into the glass table, shattering it. She turned quickly to the Helltaker on the floor now, falling to her knees despite his blood on the floor, the front of her night dress falling into the red. She put her hands over his wound, attempting to pour her will into existence, to do something that she had not in a very long time.
Heal.
But nothing came. She became ever more alarmed when she saw no rise and fall to his chest, no movement of his eyes. She focused her supernatural hearing now, listening for the beating of his heart as she pressed her ear to his chest, listening for the sound that she had so come to enjoy, hoping that she could not hear it because it had simply grown faint, but only silence met her ears. She brought her blood-stained hands to his face, staining his cheeks.
She began to weep silently, a silence that was soon broken by a scream that would freeze the blood of any other creature. Lucifer looked up and saw Modeus standing at in the hallway, the light from the kitchen behind her, casting terrible shadows in her face, that made her seem aged now despite her youthful beauty. Her hands had flown up and covered her mouth, staring on in horror, frozen where she stood, where Lucifer could see the quivering of her leg. Lucifer offered no words of explanation, coldness beginning to creep over her mind now, a feeling that she was only in a dream, not in the room at all.
She simply looked at the remains of the table where she had flung the ghoul, the decrepit form still twitching slightly, a creature in the throes of death. Modeus' eyes followed where she had looked, going wide as they settled on limp mass, and trailing finally over its bloodstained hand. she understood now. With her back against the wall, Modeus sank slowly to the floor as the first tears began to fall, and she was racked with uncontrollable sobs.
she simply stared at thing before her, until she could bear the sight of it no longer, turning to look at Lucifer, slumped over the still form of the Helltaker, her face buried in his chest, her shoulders shaking. As the thunder clapped outside, the flickering light of the lightning revealed the two were not alone; the entire harem stood on the balcony, staring down in mute shock. All save for Cerberus, who let out a wail in three voices, binding together in a terrible, anguished harmony that struck Lucifer down to her very core. 'What the fuck did you do!?' she cried, her voice unstable, shrill. Cerberus bound down the stairs, all three falling upon the Helltaker as Lucifer had, sobbing without restrain or care. Each of the others in turn moved in silence down the stairs, not uttering a word, simply gathering around the man they had come to cherish. Even Justice, who could not see, could smell his scent, mixed in with the scent of death, his the iron of his human blood. She could no longer feel his energy - his soul- in the room, standing in the darkness of his absence like a great room where a lone candle had been winked out. Only Judgement remained atop the balcony, mustering every ounce her strength not to weep as the others had. She stared now at Lucifer as if she were something monstrous, worthy of destruction. 'You have brought this.' she said, her eyes never leaving Lucifer's form, who looked up now o meet her gaze. She said nothing. The others too looked up at Judgement's cold expression, her statuesque stance, gauntleted arms folded over her chest. 'What the hell is she talking about Luci?' said Cerberus between her sobs, barely moving a centimeter away from the Helltaker. 'Yes, Lucifer, why don't you tell them why this world is in chaos, why the living dead are walking in the streets, why as we speak, the very armies of Hell begin to march and cry for blood? Or shall I call you S-'
'Don't. You. Dare.' said Lucifer suddenly, her voice thick with an unseen, unfelt authority, that sent a shiver of fear down every spine, save for Judgement, who stood still proud and stoic atop the balcony. The others shared with each other a silent communique; their eyes wondering to each other. questions that they dare not not speak aloud. 'You will not speak to me this way.' She continued, standing now to her full height like a cat preparing to fight, looking directly into Judgement's eyes, her own seeming to radiate hellish light. The atmosphere became at once intense, uneasy, felt by everyone in the room, the beginnings of a great storm brewing that would swallow everything in its path whole. 'Luci please! What is she talking about?' interrupted Cerberus again, where Modeus had now moved to her side, taking her hand in hers. 'Yeah, I wanna know what this bitch is on about.' said Zdrada, staring intensely at Lucifer, cigarette in hand, as she blew a great plume of smoke from between her full lips. Lucifer felt absolutely cornered now, her pride and defiance shrinking, her shoulders slumped. She drew in a great breath, as if mustering all her mental strength to prepare for a great and arduous task. 'The end of this world is here.' She said, looking to the floor, her eyes trailing up the wooden boards to the Helltaker. 'Armageddon. The apocalypse. It is here because of me.' As she spoke, the faces of the others twisted into expressions of confusion and disbelief. 'What do you mean, the end?' Said Malina, carefully avoiding that her eyes should fall on his body. 'I am lord of Hell.' said Lucifer matter-of-fact-ly, adding to their confusion. 'Long ago, before any of you existed... there was a condition put in place. Should the reigning lord of hell leave for any great amount of time... it is regarded as a signal of the end of days. The Barons of hell and all their armies are bound to this condition. It has been more than a year since we left Hell, came here, started new lives.'
All of he others were silent now, the expressions of shock had turned to anger in Zdrada and Malina. Modeus looked up from where she held the still convulsing shoulders of all of Cerberus. 'And you knew? You knew this would happen and you what? Ignored it?' she said, the wavering of her voice evident to everyone in the room. She looked at Lucifer now with an expression she never had before. Apathy, pain, betrayal. 'You've killed him. Do you understand me? I hold you responsible.' Lucifer said nothing, only staring at the spatters of his blood on the wall. 'Luci.' began Justice, pity in her voice. 'How could this happen?' Tears began to fall from Lucifer's face now, she feel to one knee, the other followed. 'I forgot...' she said, the tremble in her voice sounding unnatural and disturbing to the others. 'It had been so many years, I thought it would never come. Pushed it to the back of my mind. Nothing to do in Hell but wait. And then he came.' she said, looking longingly now at the Helltaker. Cerberus snarled at her at once. 'Don't you speak of him! Don't you even look at him!' all three of her spoke through bared teeth. 'So let me understand you correctly,' began Zdrada, her disdain clear in her eyes. 'You brought the fucking end of the world because it slipped your mind? Is that it?'
Lucifer burned in her shame, but looked back at her indignantly nonetheless. The sound of each of their tears feeding the guilt in her heart. 'You have no idea! You try waiting around for the better part of 2 million years for something that never comes!' Her words brought silence to the room now, Cerberus and Modeus' sobs lowered to barely controlled sniffling. Melina's mouth opened and closed, but now words came. Finally, Pandemonica spoke, her voice thick with emotion, the trails of her tears still glistening on her face. 'Luci... Exactly how old are you?' she said, approaching Lucifer slowly. Lucifer looked at her with a pained expression, and Pandemonica saw now the extent of her years in Lucifer's eyes. 'very.' she replied, looking away from her to show that she had little intent of continuing the conversation. 'As if any of that fucking matters.' said Zdrada, walking over to Lucifer, carefully hidden rage behind her eyes. 'You fucked up, and now he,' She gestured with her hand to the body of the Helltaker, the first traces of tears forming. 'is fucking dead. And all you have to say for yourself, is "oops I forgot"?' Her voice held the slightest shudder, something that disturbed everyone, that the usually defiant and uncaring Zdrada would betray any emotion at all.
'I know that does not help.' said Lucifer softly, so inaudibly that any human being in the room would not have hear her at all. "But do not pretend that you alone have lost. Do you not think that I loved him, as you did? We were all saved by him, one way or another.' Zdrada's eyes widened, and she flung her hand out, striking lucifer across the face, the slap echoing off of the walls of the house. 'Fuck you.' she said, her lips trembling. 'Do you understand what this means? We have no more reason to be here. We might as well go back to our boring lives in Hell. What the fuck do we do now?'
Lucifer regained her bolt upright pose slowly, staring into Zdrada's eyes. 'How dare you.' She said slowly, her shoulders squared, her hands balling into fists.
'Do not.' a voice intervened, the formal, authoritative tone of Judgement. 'Afraid I'll end up kicking her ass?' teased Zdrarda, folding her arms over her chest. 'I bet this bitch can't even throw a punch. Need mommy Judgement to save you?' she smiled haughtily at Lucifer. 'I intervened, you fool, because if she strikes you but once, you will be wiped from this existence like an insect. Do not forget to whom you are speaking.'
'Oh piss off.' She responded, rolling her eyes in contempt. 'Hell's been let loose, she's CEO of nothing.'
At this Judgement jumped down the balcony, grabbing Zdrada by her lapels in a flash. 'You arrogant fool.' She said, bringing her face so close to Zdrada's that she could feel her breath. 'Hell is here because they remain loyal, and think that it is by her command that they come for this world.'
'Put me the fuck down.' Zdrada said, defiant, narrowing her eyes.
Malina stood now, staring at the two, then she turned her gaze to Lucifer. 'Wait...' She said, stopping for a moment. 'If they follow your orders, can't you just tell them to stop? Stand down and go home?' Lucifer let out a sigh, exasperated. 'No. It is not that simple. They believe that it must be carried out to the end. It does not matter if it is the right time or not. they think it is. I do not have the authority to make it stop.'
Pandemonica was struck then with a thought, a realization. 'If demons have come to invade... then the angels will surely come too? Maybe even the archangels? or even-'
'No!'Zdrada interrupted, having been put down by Justice. 'There is no fucking way I am dealing with Seraphim! They're going to take one look at us, and vaporize us. We need to get the fuck back to hell where it is safe.' For the briefest moment Lucifer heard something in her voice that she had come to believe the btich demon incapable of: fear. Looking around, she saw each of the others seemed uneasy, frightened. Most of them had only ever heard stories told to them of the higher ranking angels, stories made to frighten them as children. "If you step out of line, the Archangels will come for you!" Lucifer almost laughed bitterly. She paled now, the thought of the presence of the Archangels was not an eventuality she wished to face.
Modeus spoke now, releasing Cerberus' hand, who whined almost inaudibly. 'We'll face that when we get there. What do we do about him?' She said, putting her hand softly on the Helltaker's head, raking her fingers affectionately through his hair. 'We give him a proper burial. It's all we can do for him now.' Lucifer said, unable to bring her eyes to him. 'We need to get him wrapped up at least. 'Monica, bring the sheet from our bed. He doesn't deserve to just lie there on the floor.' Pandemonica nodded slowly, and left up the stairs, disappearing behind the door to Lucifer's room. Lucifer focused her hearing; she could now hear Pandemonica allowing herself to cry.
'Speaking of angels,' said Malina now, looking around the room. 'Where the hell is Azazel?'
