"Lucifer?" Dean asked in disbelief, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.
Arcadia nodded, never making eye contact with him.
"So that's why you were taken and why there are traps everywhere," Dean said quietly. Now he knew why the other him had been so violent to her. She had been dragging his brother to the abyss for so long.
"I'm not a demon," Arcadia said sharply. "You, well, the other you, he blessed the water I just chugged before soaking me with it last week. But he never knew about Luci-Sa-Lucifer."
Dean began eyeing her suspiciously when she stumbled over the two names. Something wasn't adding up here. Why would Lucifer marry a human, and why would she nearly say Sam's name?
"He really didn't," she pleaded, obviously thinking that he was going to either hurt her or lock her up again. "I swear, he didn't."
Dean still didn't say anything, just looked over her. She would have been Sammy's type... But that still didn't add up, especially if he had become a vessel while they were dating or married. He'd seen what had happened to Castiel's vessel after letting the angel in. Lucifer would have made a power match up to ensure his rule and influence. Probably with Meg or another demon.
"How did you even meet Lucifer?" he asked, his voice dark and quiet. It was almost a threat and the woman flinched as he spoke.
"It was about four years ago," she began, her voice wavering slightly. "I was living in Detroit when it happened. The apocalypse, I mean. I remember the details of that first day so well. The whole world shook that day."
November 16th, 2010
Detroit, Michigan, The United States
10:15 AM
Arcadia was late to work. Again. However, this was purposeful and she had a wide smile as she walked up the sidewalk towards the door of the pizza place where she worked, aptly named the Pizza Place. If this didn't get her fired, nothing would. Working at that pizza place in the quaint shopping areas just outside downtown was horrible. The other staff members were rude to her, the pay was terrible (but livable), and the pizza sucked besides that. She always felt embarrassed to take her family there and use the employee discount. She knew they felt bad for her too, though no one wanted to say it to her face. She was ready to hand in her resignation, but the damn manager had given her a pay raise the day she walked in with the letter tucked into her purse.
However, when Arcadia reached the front door, it was locked tight and none of the lights were on. She grabbed the pull handle and yanked on it with as much force as she could put behind it and when it still didn't open, she scowled and began heading back the way she had come. On her way, she slammed shoulders with a tall man, who was walking briskly down the street. Scowling after him when she was clear of him, she saw the man watching her and the other, shorter man beside him moving in an almost run next to the first man she slammed. Scowling to herself, Arcadia continued moving.
10:30 AM
Arcadia had driven home with hardly any issues and unlocked the door to her townhouse with a sigh. Shrugging off her coat, she headed to her couch and snatched her TV's remote from the kitchen counter. She flopped down with a sigh and turned on the TV. It was set to a news channel she had been watching the night before. It was a news broadcast and was flashing a breaking news icon across the bottom of the screen. The reporter was a pretty young women with blonde hair and slightly tanned skin in a bright green dress. She was a pretty good newscaster, but the only issue was her voice. It was very high pitched and she tended to pause a lot between sentences. Every word made Arcadia wince, but the news was really important, so she ignored her instincts.
"And as you can see behind me, these are the remains of Fisher Body Plant 21. In an apparent gas explosion today, the entire factory went up in flames and the building then collapsed, killing the single security guard who was inside at the time," the reporter said, her bright dress framed by rising black smoke across the skyline behind her. The factory was just a huge crumble of cement and thick black smoke was still rising from the ruins despite no sign of a fire. "This factory has been scheduled for demolishing since 1985, but continuing protests from city historians have prevented the land the ruin sat on to be re-purposed," the reported explained. "Although no news crews have been allowed any closer to the explosion site, from this vantage point, it looks as though a large bomb went off, rather than a gas explosion. DFD fire fighters are about to approach the scene and begin to research the reasons behind the explosions. Oh my! There seems to have been a survivor!"
The reporter gestured for the camera man to zoom in on the single person pulling themselves out of the cement. The reporter began talking again. "Stay tuned for more information-" The reporter's voice was abruptly cut off as the survivor seemed to throw a fire fighter away from him. The two reporters (The camera guy and the anchor) ran towards the police line, but a huge chunk of cement soared towards the camera and the TV satellite connection went dead.
10:33 AM
Arcadia frowned and smacked her remote twice before attempting to turn on the satellite again. It didn't respond and she saw that her DVR box had gone completely dead. Growling in frustration, she threw the remote across the room, right as the TV box came back on. Rolling her eyes, she was about to get up and get the remote, but what was going on on screen caught her attention.
The camera guy was running, fast. The whole camera was bouncing and you could hear him breathing.
"He killed Kristie," he kept saying to himself, obviously choked up. "He killed Kristie..."
Suddenly, the guard made a choking noise and toppled forward. As he fell, the viewers could see his shadow falling with him, with what looked like a pole sticking out of his back. Arcadia gasped and covered her mouth in shock. The camera hit the ground with him, and, surprisingly, did not crack. Footsteps came running up to the camera and slowed. Whoever it was, they were tall or had a long stride. The camera lifted from the ground and a large calloused hand covered the lens gently. The camera seemed to spin around chaotically and there was soft humphs as the same hands fumbled around, looking for something. As the person grunted happily and stopped the live stream, there was a split second flash of someone's face.
Arcadia had been watching the live stream with morbid fascination and she felt her eyes widen when the face was shown. Fumbling with the remote as the image of the guy's face froze on her TV. Clicking the pause button, she stared at the face. It was bruised, bloody, an obviously broken nose and a strong chin. No discernible eye color could be seen, but long brown hair (For a man) streamed out over the lens. The hair was dust covered and slightly stringy. On any other occasion, she would have found this guy attractive, but she had the hinting suspicion that he was the guy who killed the two reporters and attacked the fire fighters.
Shivering to herself, Arcadia hit the play button and watched as the static following shifted to the main news studio. They were looking shaken and terrified as they sat in their chairs with their fancy clothing.
"Well, as always, we will have a constant stream of information for everyone with the breaking news," the male anchor said with a shudder. A live stream from a helicopter's view point appeared on the screen, and as the audio took a few seconds to come on, Arcadia could clearly hear the female reporter sobbing and the male one retching violently. The helicopter pilot picked up the lag in broadcast almost immediately and began narrating the camera feed.
"As you can see, I am approaching ground zero," he said. The explosion site looked like a comet had crashed into it and then stayed put. "The police haven't been able to get further than a mile to the crash site without sustaining casualties. So far, the death toll is seventeen police officers, twenty reporters and camera men, and eight people with dangerous injuries."
10:45 AM
Arcadia winced and muted the TV while heading to the kitchen. For the first time in months, she climbed up on her counter and opened the highest up cabinet. Pulling out a glass bottle filled with amber liquid, she carefully climbed back down and grabbed a glass. She chucked a few ice cubes into it and popped the cork of the bottle. Arcadia poured the liquid into the cup and nearly slammed the bottle back down as she lifted the glass to her lips. Taking her first drink of alcohol in three months, she swallowed the liquid courage and grabbed her cell phone. She dialed her mom's number and frowned when she only heard a dial tone. Muttering curses, she looked at the screen of her phone and winced when there was no service.
A flash of color jumped off her TV and her head whipped around to see a huge fireball erupting across the live feed.
10:57 AM
She gasped and covered her mouth with one hand when she saw some of the wreckage from the now destroyed helicopter falling with the camera. Holding back bile, Arcadia choked down more whiskey and tried to block out the images. Not being able to, she shut off the TV and set the remote back on the counter.
The phone's are down, the news can't get any information, what else can we go to? she asked herself, then remembered the radio. Fumbling with her phone again, Arcadia turned on her iHeart Radio app and tuned it to a local station with volume all the way up.
"Hello again listeners," a voice said, nervous and shaking. "As everyone knows by now, the news can't get any information to viewers because the maniac rampaging through Detroit is destroying their helicopters and killing on ground reporters. Last death toll said that one hundred people were now dead by maniac related causes. There no longer seems to be one threat, there seems to be a gang of super-powered people attacking the city of Detroit. They have been working their way towards the Downtown area of the city in a rampage that reminds this speaker of the attack on Atlanta in the Civil War or the Purge. The White House has given a set of recommendations for concerned and panicked citizens to follow to ensure that emergency services can help as many people as possible while also rallying the National Guard. Number one: stay in your home or place of business. Keep traffic to a minimum. This will ease all traffic. If you must travel, travel by foot. Number two: do not swarm the grocery stores or attack other places of necessary business. This will cause more issues to require emergency vehicles for. Number three: Don't-"
11:03 AM
Arcadia groaned as the radio cut out, and her phone's battery died completely. Taking another sip of her drink, she walked up the stairs to her bedroom. Fumbling a bit with the plug, she plugged it in and headed back downstairs. The living room and kitchen were surprisingly dark and when Arcadia looked outside, the sky was starting to darken. She bustled around the kitchen and made herself a quick can of soup in the microwave. Of all of the things to go out in the city, at least it wasn't the power.
11:55 AM
Feeling a bit buzzed and starting to have a small headache from the whiskey, Arcadia finished her soup and decided to take a nap to sleep off the alcohol. She muttered a small cuss and put the whiskey glass down on the counter before heading to the front door. It was locked securely and so were all the windows (She even checked the second floor ones). Sneaking into her bedroom, she quietly grabbed a golf club and headed back downstairs to check the back door and all of the other windows. Since the back door was glass, Arcadia had recently gotten a security sliding bar installed to prevent break ins. All she had to do to protect her back door was to simply press a button. She pulled out a few blankets and arranged them on the couch like a nest as the security slide clicked into place. Satisfied that she could now sleep in peace, Arcadia collapsed into the blankets with a sigh. Within minutes she was asleep.
12:06 PM
6:13 PM
Arcadia was woken by her doorbell, a strange sound in the now silent home. She rubbed at her eyes to try and clear her eyes of the blurriness. Her drunkenness seemed to be gone, so she got up slowly and headed to the door. It rang again, more urgently and she suddenly was pissed off.
"I'm coming," she yelled as she approached the door. "Knock it off..." She trailed off as she approached the door and opened it without even looking through the peep hole. A man was standing there, looking like he'd been through hell and back.
6:17 PM
The guy was tall, had to be at least six feet tall, with longer brown hair and a muscular build that would normally have made Arcadia a bit nervous for her own safety. He was horribly beat up, with a bleeding nose and cuts and scratches across his cheeks and face that seemed to mingle with splatters of mud and smears of general grime. The man's clothes were covered in what looked like chalk and blood was splattered across them in strange patterns. Despite the dirty state of the clothes, none of the clothes were ripped or destroyed. He was breathing heavily and looked like he was about to pass out.
"Can I- can I come inside," he asked, stumbling over the words slightly.
Arcadia had been watching him in partial shock and slowly opened the door more than just having her head sticking out. "What happened to you?"
He chuckled lowly and swallowed before speaking. He looked very nervous, more nervous than her. "I've been... fighting. With one of the gang members. He tried to kill me. I think he stabbed me..." The man began to look down at his side, where a hand was pressing his shirt to his skin. It looked like blood was leaking through his fingers.
Gasping, Arcadia let the man inside, leading him to the nearest bathroom. She looked frantically around for a place to put him and decided on the the bathtub. That would make clean up easy. "Stay here," she said after helping him into the bathtub. "I'll be right back with some first aid equipment." She bolted to her kitchen and scrambled around, looking for the small first aid kit that her father had given her when she first moved in.
Finally finding it under the sink and behind the dish soap, she bolted back to the bathroom to find the man sitting on the edge of the tub and pulling up part of his shirt to check the place where a large blood stain was. The man put an almost obscenely large, gorgeous hand over the wound and closed his eyes in concentration. To the shock of Arcadia, a bright, glowing white light seemed to come out of his hand and made Arcadia close her eyes to make sure she wasn't blinded. When the light finally died, she saw that the stab wound was completely gone. He was so absorbed in it that he only looked up when she dropped the first aid kit in surprise.
6:22 PM
"How the hell?" she asked breathlessly. The man dropped the shirt and had a panicked look on his face. He obviously hadn't seen her or realized she was watching him. "You were stabbed," she protested as he stood and climbed out of the bathtub, a pleading look on his face.
"Please, don't freak out," he told her, holding his hands up in sort of surrender.
"I already am," she yelled at him, making him wince and step back away from her. "How the hell did you do that? Were you faking it this whole time? Just to get inside my house? Ugh, I feel like an idiot..." She trailed off and watched the man with wary eyes, unsure of what he was going to do next.
"It's not like that," the man insisted. "I was stabbed. Look, you can see the mark in my shirt"-He showed her the hole in his t-shirt and jacket. Blood stains were still drying around the mark-"And here's the knife"-he handed it to her and she nearly dropped it when she saw that it had blood on the handle. He watched her face, waiting for her to believe him. Even with this, she still couldn't see how this happened.
"Then how are you healed," Arcadia asked him, handing him the blade handle-first against her better judgment. He took the knife and put it into a sheath he pulled from his pocket without a word.
"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," he told her, setting the knife down on the counter. Arcadia glanced quickly between the knife and the man. She was still extremely nervous about this man, whoever he was.
Finally deciding to take her chances, she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a challenging look. "Tell me," she said, only barely worried about what he might say to her.
The man sighed and turned away from her, running a hand through his long hair. Arcadia stayed where she was in the same position.
"Can we go to your living room?" he asked her, turning back around after a minute or so.
Arcadia didn't say anything to him, just stepped back from the door and gestured for him to go in front of her. He exited the bathroom and walked down the hall, slowly rubbing his right palm with his left thumb. It was a strange gesture, but it seemed to calm him down slightly. Arcadia still watched him and stayed standing when he went and sat down on her couch. She leaned on the wall and gestured for the man to start talking. She was tempted to grab a blanket from the couch to warm herself up, but she was okay despite her many goosebumps.
The man saw her shiver and looked over at the fireplace that she hadn't ever used. "Do you mind?" he asked her carefully.
Arcadia shrugged and rubbed her forearms in an attempt to heat them up. The man took a deep breath and flicked his hand towards the fire place. Flames burst out of the fake logs as the gas turned on and heat began to spread across the whole room. The man winced for a moment, then scrunched up his eyebrows, pushing the pain away. Arcadia glanced between the man and the fireplace, her mouth barely open in surprise. The man smiled at her, but sobered up when he saw how surprised she was.
"How the hell did you do that?" Arcadia asked, her voice barely higher than a whisper.
"I'd guess that I should start at the beginning," he said, looking at the ground. "It's the only way I can really explain it."
