Leap forward two hundred years, and what has changed?
Certainly not the existence of bigotry, or fear, or greed, or hate. Time hasn't curbed the human hunger for homicide. Enter Kailu Parker of the LAPD - overworked, underpaid, but burning with a passion to clear the streets of crime. The detective's desire for justice lands her a case surrounding the biggest hollywood star of the century. Introduce Lucifer Noxsonn. Born on one an off world cult colonies, his rise to fame included the cold case murder of his sister and a controversial film series everyone but Detective Parker has heard of. Brash and entitled, Lucifer's connections and fortune is exactly she needs. The unlikely duo sets off to discover the true culprit of the city's latest murder, which may be more nefarious than either the detective or the writer are equipped to handle. |
Asherah
Characters involved: Lucifer (page on Individual Worlds)
Writing Type: Open for writing by other people Status: About half the time I write it when I'm not working on Darkest Minds/overcomming writers block & the other half lioden authors write it |
An End of an Era but The Start of an Age
If he could indeed count, Lucifer had not slept for the past forty-three hours. It had evaded him with the skill of a well-trained hunter since Seraphina had sat him down and explained that a detective (one with some urgent complex to prove herself) had picked up an old cold case, deciding that she had the right to dig up the past and ruin his life all over again.
He had stood, cursed openly and left the room to sit at the piano and stare at the ivories.
Since that fateful day, Seraphina had conscientiously chosen to avoid him as much as possible, keeping small talk at the dinner table just that, small talk. So no further personal questions or queries arose for the next two days. Seraphina did not tell him to sleep as she always did when she noticed dark circles under his eyes, she looked without seeing.
The topic was not discussed until the very day Detective Parker was to arrive.
He was sitting at the piano, holding the weight of his heavy head on his hand, his index finger pressing the same ivory again and again, the dull repeat of the note numbing his mind in a pleasing way. But as a shaft of golden sunlight slipped through the window and fell over his face she crept into his mind once again. When she was fourteen or perhaps fifteen he had attempted at teaching her the piano, she had already proven her skill in the arts and had a brilliant mind.
It was sure to be a simple task, though that sentiment was quickly proven incorrect.
Asherah was like wildfire trapped in a human body, she burned like flames and it reflected in those golden eyes of hers. She was as willful and stubborn as she was brilliant and if she liked something she stuck with it, but if she didn’t her mind could not be changed. She groaned when he instructed her, told him she hated taking orders, she clanked the ivories down with splayed hands creating ragged noise and laughing at his yelps and pleas and blazing looks.
She was the lesson that taught him why hurricanes have human names.
“Jesus Christ Noxsonn you look like a mess.” Lucifer turned dreary eyes to the smooth voice, At the sight of Logan Hunters, one of his closest companions, he brightened. Just two years younger than him, Logan looked like a teenager with a soft jawline and a halo of messy golden curls. His cheeks were flushed by winter wind and his blue eyes were framed by oddly long lashes. The curve of his lips made him look like he was always smiling. Most of the time he acted like a young child, refusing to do his laundry for weeks as it became a mountain in the corner of his small apartment room, eating toast and beans for dinner and being so oddly proud of the cat hair that adorned his every garment.
Through a sleepy mind Lucifer noted he almost appeared to look like the embodiment of sunlight. Proof that though there was darkness in the word there were rays of light, rays like Logan Hunters. He to in someways escaped a haphazard family. Parents who smothered him after the overdose of his older sister.
Messy boy, he was Lucifer and Seraphina’s first friend in their new world, finding the then trio after their escape from the Covenant. “I feel like it to,” he returned, a haphazard attempt at a smile ghosting on his lips.
At this Logan gave a pitiful excuse for a grin. “Detective Parker arrives in two hours, I thought I could make you breakfast, I need to make sure you eat.” At that proposal, Lucifer realized how hungry he truly was. He nodded at Logan who took the lead to the kitchen. Logan was no cook so they sat together and ate grapes and cheese with burnt toast and biscuits.
Throughout the meal Logan spoke of his recent discovery of his love of cactus plants, reasons why blue was his favourite colour and the antics of his fat old cat lovingly called Eddie or Ed. Though exhausted Lucifer was immensely glad of the easy company. He had missed speaking so lightly on nonsense topics. Mid-way through a laughing debate which fruit was the best (Logan was steadfast on strawberries, Lucifer argued for cherries) Seraphina entered the room and the two men fell silent.
“Good morning,” Seraphina said stiffly, reaching for a branch of grapes. Lucifer felt guilty at the bags under her eyes, he had been frustrated and hurt by her avoidance of his presence to think that she too was fighting a lot right now, she too had not slept. He was not the only one who had loved Asherah.
He had blamed his oldest friend. Perhaps he was still bitter towards her for separate reasons, something he would have to reflect on after this case was eventually dropped and life could return to normal. He hoped Seraphina would not require an apology, he couldn’t muster the ethic goodness to conjure that at this point in time.
He had loved Seraphina in the way young lovers do, but with all his heart he loved Asherah and her death had left no room for a silly type of pointless love, and the rise of this case had torn him to shreds already, he lacked the energy to amen the scars he had put on someone else. Instead he cut a piece of cheese for her and handed it over, hoping it would act as some type of temporary truce.
To his relief Seraphina sat beside him and rubbed her eyes. There was a still silence for a few moments before Seraphina spoke. “I know you're mad about this case, but I’ve tried all I can to get the department to drop it and they aren’t. The Detective is just here to give you a quick interview.” By the way she worded it it sounded like Detective Parker was just popping by for a cup of tea and some light conversation, which Lucifer knew wouldn’t be the case. He was the closest to Asherah and the two were living together at the time of her death. He was the only one who held any information, the only grounds that case even stood as one.
No witnesses, no leads and no evidence.
It was his father no doubt, or his brother, but in the eyes of the law there was no proof as to their involvement.
And thus it had been a cold case for six long, cruel years. “Let’s hope she realizes she’s a fool and drops this case as soon as possible,” Lucifer returned.
He looked to Logan for the sympathy he craved, but Logan’s sea gaze had darkened and he fists were balled tightly. “You know Lucifer, this is tough, I get that. But not all of us get to sort our loved ones deaths straight. Just stop for a second to consider this more. You're miserable that it isn't solved then, and when they try and solve it now you complain.”
Shocked, Lucifer shook his head. “It’s not the right time…”
At the Logan became even more upset. “I didn’t even get a time.” He snapped. The silence that followed was deafening, buzzing in Lucifer’s ears. Logan suddenly looked so much younger, helpless and timid. Brushing his nose quickly, his eyes filling he stood, his chair scraping backwards. “She’ll be here in fifteen minutes. Be ready.” He rushed away.
Lucifer and Seraphina sat in silence. “You deserved it, it was hard to hear but you did.”
His mind was a blurry mess. Mere minutes ago Logan had chatted to him about the softness of his cat’s fur, now there was a wall of thorns between them. Did he deserve it?
He considered the idea, though prideful he was able to admit to himself finally that Logan was right. There were deaths that went unexplained, unavenged for eternities. Families who grieved unfound bodies, who stayed up studying dropped cases. There was Logan, whose sister used drugs as an escape from a cruel reality. A sister he put through rehab and therapy, a sister who could not for all the kind words forget her rape at fourteen and the drugs that delivered her from pain stole the breath from her lungs.
She had an unsaid name, a question mark face and was the dark side of Logan's moon. Yet Logan still loved, with a heart that was jagged and ripped but used to to love everything possible.
His apartment was filled with different types of potted plants that he tenderly watered daily.
There was his cat, Eddie, who he found on the dirtier alleyways of LA as a helpless kitten. Who he bought home and in the time before Mirage's record contract, he’d chose to buy cat food instead of heat. He loved that ugly creature, sung songs and played music to it, talked about it at every given chance.
And his friends, who he took care of. When Lucifer couldn’t sleep Logan would bring mugs of cocoa and talk in a gentle voice about his nonsense things and Lucifer would wake with a blanket around him in an empty room.
Logan loved with everything the world had left him, which wasn’t very much but Lucifer was cold and unable to apologize even when he realized he wasn’t right. Guilt again washed over his shaky body. He did not realize Seraphina had left the room until he turned to look at her and was greeted by blank space. He swallowed his sadness, set his face and used the last five minutes to prepare for the arrival of Detective Parker if he remembered her name right.
* - * - *
When the musical chime of the doorbell echoed the halls of the house it was Seraphina who answered the door. She led the party into the parlour where Logan and Lucifer sat on opposing sofa’s in an awkward silence.
Logan stood to assist one man in a dreary grey suit pull a small desk to sit behind the third sofa and helped him set up his notebook and pen. A uniformed officer stood like a living statue to the arm of the sofa, his purpose was unexpected and unexplained as he remained still and mute.
The dreary suited man’s dullness extended beyond his bleak outfit to his thinning mouse brown hair and wrinkled face with sad, watery looking brown eyes. He engaged in short small talk with Logan.
The tap of two sets of shoes announced the arrival of Seraphina and Detective Parker. The woman who entered was not what Lucifer expected. She was young, with smooth skin and a lithe gait and a pretty face. Her eyes were green and gave her an intelligent pondering appearance, honey blonde hair was pulled back tightly combined with her powerful stance and blue suit she gave an intimidating and authoritative feel.
Though attractive Lucifer despised the way that when she laid those green eyes upon him they filled with some type of expression like disgust. She sat on the couch.
“Good morning Lucifer Noxsonn, I am Detective Parker. This-” she gestured to the dreary man - “is Mr.Greyson. He will be writing your statements-”
“I am being recorded?” Lucifer asked in an angry tone.
“Yes, you are,” she said curtly before continuing. “This is Captain James Holt, he will be our witness.” She flipped open a notebook. “I am here to speak to you on the case of your sister's death.” Lucifer narrowed his eyes at her.
“You’re five years late,” He said, hoping his tone was as cold as it needed to be. Logan coughed pointedly but Lucifer ignored it.
“So I am. Now, can we proceed with this interview?” The Detective asked in a dismissive tone. “Where were you the night of Aherah Noxsonn’s death?”
He would let on as little as possible, forfeit information and hopefully she’d drop the case in a matter of days. “I can’t remember, as I stated before it has been a long time.” The Detective didn’t seem unnerved, which frustrated him further.
“I see,” was all she said, scribbling something in her notebook. “When did you find out about her death?”
He remembered it clearly. That night he had gone to a rowdy bar with Seraphina, they both spent the night pretending to enjoy themselves and he stumbled home drunk and passed out on the sofa. He woke up midday the sound of a sharp tap at the door. A uniformed officer began his speech and Lucifer could still remember how his heart dropped. “The next day I guess.”
Again the Detective nodded. “What was your relationship with Asherah?”
At this he stumbled, his eyes prickled. He couldn’t let on though, not if he wanted his life back. “We were siblings- we were siblings-" he quickly corrected, "she was kind.” He shrugged after this statement. There was a prolonged pause in which the Detective looked at him, perhaps expecting more. “I would like you to drop this case immediately.” He finally said, just to break the unnerving silence.
“You have no power to do that, I’m sorry.” She said, flipping her notebook closed. Lucifer’s brows furrowed.
“Of course I do, I’m close family.” The detective stood.
“Yes, you are-” she said, gathering her things “and now you are also a top suspect.”
The world froze.
* - * - *
His thoughts were a whirling storm of utter confusion. “W-What?” he stumbled.
“I said you are now a top suspect, your coldness to the event and forgetfulness do not reflect the symbols of the loss of a loving relationship. Captain Holt will now read you your rules and rights.”
As the Captain began Lucifer could not hear him, Logan was suddenly beside him, a strong hand on his shoulder a repetitive chant in his smooth voice “are you okay? Lucifer are you okay?”
He heard Seraphina say “Impossible-” and there were other words he didn’t catch that sounded like curses but he couldn’t be sure.
“You can’t do this!” He insisted desperately, stumbling a step forward.
The detective looked him up and down. “Actually I can.”
Lucifer shook his head. “It wasn’t me!”
“On what grounds are you to prove that? You expect me to take you for your word? That isn't how this works. If you are truly innocent the case will prove it so.”
How could he take that chance? The department would jump to any lead they could, conclusions would be made before the case was even investigated any further. How the media would love it, Distraught Famous Writer/Director Proven Guilty For Sister’s Murder. They grabbed ahold of it like rabid animals the first time. Right after Asherah’s death when he accused his father and a preliminary hearing had been held. His eyes stung. “I can help you!”
The detective raised her eyebrow. “Can you now?”
His breathing sounded jagged in his ears. “Yes, I can, give me a chance to prove myself innocent!”
The room stood still, the detective considered this silently, her brows furrowed in pondering. “You better have a good lead Mr.Noxsonn otherwise you’ll be trialled.”
Lucifer pulled in a breath. “I do.” He lied. The detective nodded and something was clasped around his ankle.
“This is protocol, I can’t have you running away.” She said with a slight smirk that sent red-orange flames burning in his chest and anger flareing through his blood. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Noxsonn.” She almost spat out the last word.
“Bitch!” Seraphina exclaimed as the door shut behind the departing party. Logan was pacing anxiously, fiddling with his thumbs. Lucifer sat at the grand piano, his fingers hovering over the ivories.
No solutions could be found.
* - * - *
“We need to get your father to confess. Somehow convince her to go there and investigate him. He’s forbidden to lie.”
Lucifer was shaking. “It won’t be the confession that’s the hard part.” He said bluntly. “That old fool’s forbidden to lie but he can snap his fingers and have us killed before we even step planetside.”
Seraphina stamped her foot. “We have nothing else! Your facing jail time and a murder would destroy your reputation if you even get out of a life sentence.”
“God I hope you have the best lawyer in the world,” Logan added.
“Stop that Logan, focus on a winning plan, not a losing one,” Seraphina said, her eyes taking the sharp look they always did when she was conceiving a risky plan. “Lucifer, we escaped Convent, we can get that confession. We have seen harder times my friend.”
Logan nodded in agreement. “You’ll have a government force on your side, officers and swats, you won’t have a problem.”
The thought of defence relieved Lucifer fractionally and he dismissed his friends. “The detective will return tomorrow, until then we can’t do anything. Rest if you can.”
Logan left soon after the three shared a cup if hot tea saying, “Eddie will be hungry and upset. Call me if you need anything, I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Neither Seraphina nor Lucifer had the heart to tell the young man he was unneeded on the mission and would probably burden the already difficult plan even further. He just wanted to try and help, a quality that was rare in the world. Everyone had been torn down enough for the day Lucifer decided. So they masked their voices to be grateful and encouraging. When the door shut behind him Seraphina was the first to say what they both thought.
“We can’t let him die, he’s to… good.”
Since the pairs escape from the terrible life at Convent good things had been few and far between. But Logan, Logan was the people they had wanted to exsist out of the Convent, the type of person they spoke to each other about meeting. A ray of hope in a bottomless sea. He was gentle and young. The two of them had suffered through so much and it became apparent to Lucifer that if either was killed in a mission to save himself he could never forgive himself.
“You can’t come either Seraphina, I can’t let either of you die.” Seraphina was not one to argue with logic for the purpose of nostalgia. She knew the more people travelling the harder the escape would become. She merely nodded. “I understand.”
* - * - *
The next day was grey and drizzly, Lucifer threw a black trenchcoat over his suit and inspected it for cathairs he may have snagged from Logan, he found one and gave a tiny sad smile at it. Logan’s loyalty was admirable. He had fought two hours to remain on the mission before finally agreeing when Lucifer explained other ways to help him, such as discreetly searching for a lawyer should plan a backfire. He took to this new job immediately with Seraphina tagging along.
Their last words had been brief but over the polished tabletop Seraphina had slid him a handgun. “Just in case.” She said before they parted ways.
So Lucifer was left in an empty house enveloped by a weighty silence. His gun pressed against his ribcage from it’s hidden holster. He didn’t want to alert to Detective that he was carrying arms.
It would be a long journey to the planet and he now gritted his teeth at the time he would have to spend with someone who so quickly accused him of murdering his own sister. But he needed to do this. When the doorbell rang he expected a small army of uniformed officers. Instead, it was just Detective Parker, with jeans and a white long sleeve on.
“I expected an entourage.” He said, squinting his eyes suspiciously.
“I am no longer working under governmental resources. Off the clock, I’m Kailu Parker.”
“Kailu?”
“Still Detective Parker to you.”
This made him smile a little but he shook the expression off of his face. “I’m glad you packed, we may be away for a while.”
She nodded. “Where are we headed?”
Lucifer bit the inside of his cheek, even saying the name of that hideous place awoke a trembling fear and anger inside him. “Off world,” He was as vague as possible. He expected the detective to persist but she didn’t merely followed him to the car he had purchased of a shady salesman. It was janky and rumbled but it looked inconspicuous.
Lucifer pointed at his ankle. “First of all, you need to take that off.” The detective paused a short time, released a sigh before taking it off. “Good,” Lucifer said, feeling slightly lighter. “Get in, we have a lot of driving to do.”
* - * - *
Detective Parker quickly proved herself almost insufferable. Her chipper attitude made him grit his teeth in frustration. She rejected his classical music, then again laughed at his best CD’s. She insisted on playing the radio, channels that blasted autotuned rap and pop. She turned it up to eighty-seven and sung along in an off-key voice. He suddenly realized this case meant nothing to her. Justice probably meant nothing to her. So long as someone was behind bars and the right sheets were signed she would have her promotion or reputation or whatever she wanted out of this whole ordeal. Yet he still needed her compliance if he wanted to even stand a chance. So he grit his teeth, fixed his dark eyes on the road ahead and kept a death-grip on the steering wheel.
The ship they caught to cross to was of the cargo sort. They stood in the cold wind by the port, the shadows pressing around them. There was no light beside the oily glow of overhead lights which failed to light up the rows and rows of cargo containers. Finally, an old, rusted craft landed on the air strip. Men began yelling, throwing rope to dock. They squawked amongst themselves in seemingly organized panic.
Every part of the situation made the hair on Lucifer’s neck stand.
Twelve days on this thing would surely take a toll on him. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to book a unionized ship? But he needed to think about the paper trail. This ship’s captain had told them he could take them to a trading planet near Convent (the small, tera-formed terrestrial Beta-Class planet he’d spent the first half of his life upon) even adding that one of his friends could then land them planetside. The whole ordeal was rough around the edges but still, it proved their best and only chance.
As two men strolled up to them and gruffly took their hands in their freezing calloused ones to give them a firm shake. One paused to light a cigarette and the other introduced them. “I’m Scottie, the captain-” Scottie was old with thinning white hair, a turkey-like chin covered in salt and pepper whiskers and watery blue-grey eyes. His breath smelled sour like whiskey and cigarettes. “And this is Pip-”
“It’s Ollie,” Pip corrected with an annoyed sigh proving that you can’t give yourself a nickname.
Scottie gave a rasping laugh that ended in strained coughing. “Whatever Pippin.”
Pip glowered and drew another breath of his cigarette. Lucifer again expected the detective to question the situation. She again did not. Instead, she looked at the ship and asked in a keen voice: “When are we leaving?”
Scottie laughed. “Keen aren’t we lassie, give the boys some time to warm themselves. Y'all can climb aboard, Pip'll show you to ya boarding.”
“Ollie,” Pip corrected under his breath, he proceeded to take one last savouring drag of smoke before crumbling it with his boot into the wet cement.
“Follow me,” He said in a tone that implied he’d much rather join his friends who were now jostly and jogging their way to the small bar a mile or so away. He lead them through a series of narrow hallways. “‘Ere ya go, best view,” he said, opening a heavy door into a tiny room with two wire beds with thin water-stained mattresses and dirty sheets. They looked around their new residence. The paint was chipped and the one window was round and overlooked a swaying sea.
Lucifer turned to Pip, who was glancing back to the hallway. “Thank-you, we’ll be alright from here.” Pip nodded and quickly scurried off, closing the door behind them. Lucifer checked his watch. “One-thirty, I’m going to try and get some shut-eye.”
He looked at the Detective who looked neither tired or disheveled. “I’d like to explore.”
“Tsk.”
She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What?”
He wondered if she’d back down, admit she was tired. She didn’t. He shrugged “Suit yourself.”
She pulled on a heavier coat, tightened her ponytail and pulled open the door. It shut behind her, five minutes past and she had not returned. He took off his jacket with a sigh and took out the gun, hiding it in one of his drawers. This plan had to work.
* - * - *
The two managed to avoid each other for the next two days after departing from Earth. Lucifer was amazed to see the detective enjoying herself. She spent her days helping the boys move things and tinker with the engine. She proved a pair of strong and helpful hands. The ship was making quicktime.
In the evening’s she drunk beer and shared loud stories of shoot-outs and being on the police-force side of the law. Some of the lads probably saw a whole new perspective through her stories. By the fourth morning, they were calling her “Karrie,” or “Missus,” and begging her to finish last night’s story or share their cigarettes.
The only thing they would ask Lucifer was if he’d slept with her. Then they’d fall about laughing. The same joke lasted long in the dark emptiness of space.
On the evening of the fourth day she found him looking out at the bleakness surrounding them. Over the past couple of days, they avoided any turbulence posed by the pull of the gas giants and made the journey a bit more bearable. However, he was still constantly hassled by the ship-hands so he took to finding forgotten places to sit and think or read. This spot was usually abandoned, an unsheltered part of the deck usually cold and shaky but space was calm and forgiving today.
“Wanna come grab a drink?” She asked, glancing behind her. He sighed through his nose.
“No,” He responded bluntly.
“C’mon, you have to atleast try and have a bit of fun.”
He scoffed at this. “I am the top suspect of my sister’s murder case.
She narrowed her eyes in the way he had learnt that meant she was thinking. “No, you aren’t. You wouldn’t be here if you were.”
“Jesus, thanks,” he said with heavy sarcasm. She squinted at him. Heartbeats passed. “What?”
“I’m trying to work you out,” She responded before shrugging off a silent thought and turning on heal. She seemed so adult-like (claiming all the moral leverage of the situation), whereas he was akin to a child. The words settled under his skin and set him alight. He thought of going after her, requesting a drink and continuing the argument until he won. But she had already disappeared. The air grew progressively colder and he retreated to his room.
* - * - *
On the sixth day, she found him again with a packet of beers. She sat silently and threw one to him before turning to look at the window at the red dwarf sun that marked them ¾ done with their journey. He could handle alcohol very well but she couldn’t (if her drunken recounts of stakeouts where anything to go by). She nursed her second beer and watched him drain his first and take another. For the first three cans, they sat in silence. The brew was cheap and tasted too bitter but tipsy was a welcomed state of mind.
“What are you thinking?” She suddenly asked.
Lucifer was unable to blame the alcohol for his groggy laugh and candid words; “Where I grew up you could hear the ocean lap against the land. The echoes in the ship remind me of it, it reminds me of her. When she was alive. It was bad, the place I grew up. But she was there. And I can’t decide if I would go back again.”
She considered this. “You did what you did for her. But she wasn’t the only person who cared about you. Your friends, you push them away. Just because Asherah’s dead doesn’t mean you have to be.”
“I-” He tried to summon the correct words.
“You seem to grieve people who aren’t even dead yet.” After a second of stuttering wordlessness, she stood, tipped her beer to him and smiled. “This is justice, Lucifer.”
She left him alone. He avoided her for the rest of the trip and her words echoed in his thoughts.
* - * - *
Scottie’s word proved valuable for when they landed in the mainland port another old weather-beaten Captain awaited them. The two made gruff yelled greetings, slapped each other's backs before Lucifer and the Detective where introduced. “Karrie and Lucifer this is my old friend Captain.” Captain smiled at them heartily, though rough around the edges we seemed welcoming. “He’ll take you to Convent, though I’m not sure why anyone would willing go there.”
The twitch of a frown on the normally jovial man’s face gave Lucifer pause. How many people had he seen succumb to the will of the Convent - of his father? Those with lives and futures and someone awaiting them back on their respective planets.
Lost, wandering souls - like his mother.
Broken and hurt - like Seraphina's mother.
Young, haunted people - like him.
Good people - like the detective.
* - * - *
Captain turned to be a great man.
He called himself Captain and Lucifer wondered if he had forgotten his name or space had stolen it. Captain knew the system well and spoke about the planets fondly sharing tales and stories of when he was younger and keener. He spoke of poetry, cherry pies and things he missed about the homeland when he was away.
When they planet drew near enough to see a sombrerity settled over the ship. The detective came up to stand beside him and squint into the distance.
“So you really are just Kailu Parker at the moment?” He asked.
She squinted then shrugged at him. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Good,” he said, drawing out his gun and clicking in his ammunition. She looked at it before drawing her own to show him. He nodded.
“So this is it?” She asked, turning again to look at the silhouette of land shrouded by mist and rain as they descended into the atmosphere.
“This is it,” he repeated softly to himself.
* - * - *
“I don’t think you understand the extent people here are willing to go to.” He insisted, grabbing the Detective’s elbow as she attempted to leap out of the ship. She gave a frustrated sigh and turned to him.
“I understand, some old, rather backwards religious jerks. All I need is a confession, stop being so dramatic.” She swiped her limb back.
“Stop!” He pleaded, his eyes scanned the grassy banks. With the cloak of mist shrouding the buildings, it looked even more ominous. No one had come to greet them but by the loud sounds of the ship the people of Convent had most likely been alerted of the unexpected arrival. They would be waiting. His stomach was a knot. “Look can you just calm down Parker? We need a game plan.”
The detective shrugged this off. “We have one, get in, get the confession on this tape then get out. We’re carrying arms Lucifer it can’t be more serious than that.” Two measly handguns, a shiver passed through his spine. She was now half-way down the mounting ramp, the Captain was looking impatient, his stout body leaned against the doorframe of the ship. When Lucifer looked at him he tapped his wrist and gave a crooked yellow tooth grin.
Hiding a shudder and checking his ammunition Lucifer ran after the detective. “Finally decided to show up, I was begging to think I’d have to do this by myself.”
“Shut up,” He growled.
“Fine then,” it almost sounded like a laugh was concealed behind her soft voice which made Lucifer even angrier.
They were met halfway up the road by two young men, perhaps he would recognize them if long black coats didn’t conceal most of their features. “Follow us.” One said with an empty, hollow-sounding voice.
They slowly made progress up the winding road before taken by another set of cloaked people who lead them into the heart of the planet’s main village and through winding passageways. Suddenly they stopped, cloaks swishing. A large oak door stood before them at the end of the corridor. Lucifer secretly touched the hidden gun.
The two figures rapped on the door.
After several silent heartbeats, it swung open to reveal his father, wearing a black suit and looking exactly as he remembered him, right down to the cruel smile he flashed them. “My wayward son, home again - a place he forsook. To what do I owe this pleasure, should I tell your siblings?”
“Did you kill Asherah Noxsonn.” The detective demanded, and to Lucifer’s horror his father turned his smile upon her.
“Physically I did not lay a hand on that child,” and Lucifer contained a snarl - for the entirety of their childhood that would have been a lie. “Although it is my Lord's work to help those unenlightened find the path and punish those who stray. The actions of my Lord are my own, and he knows what must be done.”
The world fell around him. His father must have delegated - ordered - Asherah’s murder.
Detective Parker stared back, into eyes Lucifer could not hold, “Let me rephrase, did you orchestrate the murder of Asherah Noxsonn?”
“The presence of so many disbelievers is unwelcome on the island, take your leave. As accordance with the Private World Legislation, page 4,679 I ask this only once.” His father met his eyes and smiled. “Goodluck.” He mouthed.
And Lucifer latched onto the detective’s arm and for everything he held dear forced his legs not to run.
“Lucifer!” Parker was shouting, though she matched his brisk pace, “Where you just threatened, did he just threaten our lives?” Softer he thought he heard her say, “Jesus, the shining example of the Private Worlds is a cult. A father ordered a hit on his daughter without remorse. He’s guilty, he’s guilty…”
“Detective…” he began, but she shook her head and walked with a vigor to match him.
* - * - *
Halfway back to the dock Lucifer realized they were being followed at some distance. He tried not to change his gaint but the detective must have noticed his expression for in a low whisper she asked: “What’s going on?”
“We’re being followed, be ready to take out your gun.” The detective stiffened at this, her pace changed and she edged closer to him. “Look normal!”
Then a shot rang out.
It took the breath out of him, he couldn’t think, but the bullet had not hit him. The detective gingerly touched her lower abdomen. She turned her gaze to him - shocked, but not frightened, with a thread of steely resolve in her green depths. Lucifer spun quickly, firing six sporadic misses before the seventh one caught skin and he heard a yell of pain.
He pulled Parker into a jog, and though she stumbled she managed to will her limbs to cooperate. She turned weakly, drew her gun and fired one shot. Her aim was infinitely better than his, her bullet hit and there was a soft thud as the man fell and a yelp of pain.
“Leg shot, I’m not here to kill anyone.” She breathed at Lucifer’s raised brow.
The chase was taken up by another pair of figures. Two shots were fired from behind them, they hit the dirt so close to the fleeing pair that one misstep and it would have been Lucifer’s leg instead of the ground. Again the Detective fired, but she was weakening from blood loss and it took eight shots before a yell of pain sounded. The success was short lived as six return shots narrowly missed.
“Focus on running!” He insisted.
“I don’t need your help!” The detective spat back.
Asherah flashed into his mind. The two of them once again sitting at the piano. Her groaning and complaining and ruining the ivories and laughing at her brother. In fact, the detective reminded him of Asherah in several ways, her chipper attitude in misplaced situations, her eagerness to avenge and her willful determination to prove herself to anyone and everyone. They were so close to the dock now but he couldn’t see the ship. He cursed. They continued at an agonizing pace, missed shots fired both by themselves and whoever was following.
Then one caught his calf, at the sudden pain and he gave a yell and staggered.
“Cmon!” Parker yelled, but their stop had allowed another two bullets to catch his left thigh and right ankle. He fell, clasping the bleeding limb, his whole body ringing with pain. Three more shots and Parker was withering beside him, clasping her hip.
He couldn’t think.
A figure was almost upon them.
The figure leapt.
Lucifer’s gun clicked out of ammunition.
Suddenly Parker had rolled onto him, bracing a knife before her. When the figure landed on them it knocked the breath out of Lucifer, he heard screaming then silence. Parker rolled the body off her, her eyes wide and fear had leaked into the steadfast steel. The body beside them was breathless a sharp blade sheathed deep inside his chest cavity. Two more figures quickly replaced him.
The pair tried dragging themselves away.
They were gaining ground.
Two shots fired and Lucifer closed his eyes. He opened them seconds later.
The cloaked figures had fallen. Captain was suddenly beside them, dragging their arms up. Lucifer remembered the Captain hollering victory at the top of his lungs before the world went blank.
* - * - *
Two weeks later after a short investigation and shorter trial, their (still alive) attackers were deemed guilty and sentenced to a lifetime in jail.
Even though his father slipped free with a few well placed lies, bribes, and declarations of a xenophobic sector of Convent who would be disciplined, Lucifer slept well that night. The next morning came hesitant sunshine.
He walked five miles to the local cemetery to lay purple flowers on his sister’s headstone. Purple had always been her favourite colour. He talked with Asherah for hours about all that had happened since that fateful night, the first time in six long years.
He began with the pain, how the world stopped spinning when he learned of her death.
The first trial, with his father and brother with their endless smirks and hard knowing eyes.
The silent house, devoid of her and Seraphina who he drove away.
Long empty days, longer emptier nights that music and writing could not fill.
And then the people who did, who had come to ease the burden of her death.
The old, who she knew:
Logan Hunters and his ugly cat and the way he loved so fully and completely. Who spoke of simple things and made the world sound beautiful. And it was, though Asherah already was privy to that fact.
Seraphina no longer slept with a knife under her mattress. She smiled more, and once tried to cook lasagna and Lucifer said he hated it in a voice that implied the opposite. Told in long whimsical sentences how Logan didn’t stop talking about it for days.
The new, who she would have loved:
Pip and Scottie, though they teased him he came to appreciate their strange ways and the closeness between the boys on the ship. When it was only twenty men against light-years and light-years of open space real friendships were formed.
He spoke of the Captain who loved poetry and cherry pie who was the perfect shot just when they needed it.
And finally told of a detective with a silver tongue and intelligent eyes who had reminded him so much of her. Too much at times.
He talked and talked, and though it wasn’t the same (it would never be again), he stayed until the sun began to dip behind the skyline illuminating the City of Angels with a heavenly showcase of red, pink, and blue until settling into the dusky purple of night.
Wounds were healing. The shadow that settled over the house since her death was receding.
It was just as she would’ve wanted it.
Light.
Written by: SofiaNotSophia (#135984) with edits by myself
If he could indeed count, Lucifer had not slept for the past forty-three hours. It had evaded him with the skill of a well-trained hunter since Seraphina had sat him down and explained that a detective (one with some urgent complex to prove herself) had picked up an old cold case, deciding that she had the right to dig up the past and ruin his life all over again.
He had stood, cursed openly and left the room to sit at the piano and stare at the ivories.
Since that fateful day, Seraphina had conscientiously chosen to avoid him as much as possible, keeping small talk at the dinner table just that, small talk. So no further personal questions or queries arose for the next two days. Seraphina did not tell him to sleep as she always did when she noticed dark circles under his eyes, she looked without seeing.
The topic was not discussed until the very day Detective Parker was to arrive.
He was sitting at the piano, holding the weight of his heavy head on his hand, his index finger pressing the same ivory again and again, the dull repeat of the note numbing his mind in a pleasing way. But as a shaft of golden sunlight slipped through the window and fell over his face she crept into his mind once again. When she was fourteen or perhaps fifteen he had attempted at teaching her the piano, she had already proven her skill in the arts and had a brilliant mind.
It was sure to be a simple task, though that sentiment was quickly proven incorrect.
Asherah was like wildfire trapped in a human body, she burned like flames and it reflected in those golden eyes of hers. She was as willful and stubborn as she was brilliant and if she liked something she stuck with it, but if she didn’t her mind could not be changed. She groaned when he instructed her, told him she hated taking orders, she clanked the ivories down with splayed hands creating ragged noise and laughing at his yelps and pleas and blazing looks.
She was the lesson that taught him why hurricanes have human names.
“Jesus Christ Noxsonn you look like a mess.” Lucifer turned dreary eyes to the smooth voice, At the sight of Logan Hunters, one of his closest companions, he brightened. Just two years younger than him, Logan looked like a teenager with a soft jawline and a halo of messy golden curls. His cheeks were flushed by winter wind and his blue eyes were framed by oddly long lashes. The curve of his lips made him look like he was always smiling. Most of the time he acted like a young child, refusing to do his laundry for weeks as it became a mountain in the corner of his small apartment room, eating toast and beans for dinner and being so oddly proud of the cat hair that adorned his every garment.
Through a sleepy mind Lucifer noted he almost appeared to look like the embodiment of sunlight. Proof that though there was darkness in the word there were rays of light, rays like Logan Hunters. He to in someways escaped a haphazard family. Parents who smothered him after the overdose of his older sister.
Messy boy, he was Lucifer and Seraphina’s first friend in their new world, finding the then trio after their escape from the Covenant. “I feel like it to,” he returned, a haphazard attempt at a smile ghosting on his lips.
At this Logan gave a pitiful excuse for a grin. “Detective Parker arrives in two hours, I thought I could make you breakfast, I need to make sure you eat.” At that proposal, Lucifer realized how hungry he truly was. He nodded at Logan who took the lead to the kitchen. Logan was no cook so they sat together and ate grapes and cheese with burnt toast and biscuits.
Throughout the meal Logan spoke of his recent discovery of his love of cactus plants, reasons why blue was his favourite colour and the antics of his fat old cat lovingly called Eddie or Ed. Though exhausted Lucifer was immensely glad of the easy company. He had missed speaking so lightly on nonsense topics. Mid-way through a laughing debate which fruit was the best (Logan was steadfast on strawberries, Lucifer argued for cherries) Seraphina entered the room and the two men fell silent.
“Good morning,” Seraphina said stiffly, reaching for a branch of grapes. Lucifer felt guilty at the bags under her eyes, he had been frustrated and hurt by her avoidance of his presence to think that she too was fighting a lot right now, she too had not slept. He was not the only one who had loved Asherah.
He had blamed his oldest friend. Perhaps he was still bitter towards her for separate reasons, something he would have to reflect on after this case was eventually dropped and life could return to normal. He hoped Seraphina would not require an apology, he couldn’t muster the ethic goodness to conjure that at this point in time.
He had loved Seraphina in the way young lovers do, but with all his heart he loved Asherah and her death had left no room for a silly type of pointless love, and the rise of this case had torn him to shreds already, he lacked the energy to amen the scars he had put on someone else. Instead he cut a piece of cheese for her and handed it over, hoping it would act as some type of temporary truce.
To his relief Seraphina sat beside him and rubbed her eyes. There was a still silence for a few moments before Seraphina spoke. “I know you're mad about this case, but I’ve tried all I can to get the department to drop it and they aren’t. The Detective is just here to give you a quick interview.” By the way she worded it it sounded like Detective Parker was just popping by for a cup of tea and some light conversation, which Lucifer knew wouldn’t be the case. He was the closest to Asherah and the two were living together at the time of her death. He was the only one who held any information, the only grounds that case even stood as one.
No witnesses, no leads and no evidence.
It was his father no doubt, or his brother, but in the eyes of the law there was no proof as to their involvement.
And thus it had been a cold case for six long, cruel years. “Let’s hope she realizes she’s a fool and drops this case as soon as possible,” Lucifer returned.
He looked to Logan for the sympathy he craved, but Logan’s sea gaze had darkened and he fists were balled tightly. “You know Lucifer, this is tough, I get that. But not all of us get to sort our loved ones deaths straight. Just stop for a second to consider this more. You're miserable that it isn't solved then, and when they try and solve it now you complain.”
Shocked, Lucifer shook his head. “It’s not the right time…”
At the Logan became even more upset. “I didn’t even get a time.” He snapped. The silence that followed was deafening, buzzing in Lucifer’s ears. Logan suddenly looked so much younger, helpless and timid. Brushing his nose quickly, his eyes filling he stood, his chair scraping backwards. “She’ll be here in fifteen minutes. Be ready.” He rushed away.
Lucifer and Seraphina sat in silence. “You deserved it, it was hard to hear but you did.”
His mind was a blurry mess. Mere minutes ago Logan had chatted to him about the softness of his cat’s fur, now there was a wall of thorns between them. Did he deserve it?
He considered the idea, though prideful he was able to admit to himself finally that Logan was right. There were deaths that went unexplained, unavenged for eternities. Families who grieved unfound bodies, who stayed up studying dropped cases. There was Logan, whose sister used drugs as an escape from a cruel reality. A sister he put through rehab and therapy, a sister who could not for all the kind words forget her rape at fourteen and the drugs that delivered her from pain stole the breath from her lungs.
She had an unsaid name, a question mark face and was the dark side of Logan's moon. Yet Logan still loved, with a heart that was jagged and ripped but used to to love everything possible.
His apartment was filled with different types of potted plants that he tenderly watered daily.
There was his cat, Eddie, who he found on the dirtier alleyways of LA as a helpless kitten. Who he bought home and in the time before Mirage's record contract, he’d chose to buy cat food instead of heat. He loved that ugly creature, sung songs and played music to it, talked about it at every given chance.
And his friends, who he took care of. When Lucifer couldn’t sleep Logan would bring mugs of cocoa and talk in a gentle voice about his nonsense things and Lucifer would wake with a blanket around him in an empty room.
Logan loved with everything the world had left him, which wasn’t very much but Lucifer was cold and unable to apologize even when he realized he wasn’t right. Guilt again washed over his shaky body. He did not realize Seraphina had left the room until he turned to look at her and was greeted by blank space. He swallowed his sadness, set his face and used the last five minutes to prepare for the arrival of Detective Parker if he remembered her name right.
* - * - *
When the musical chime of the doorbell echoed the halls of the house it was Seraphina who answered the door. She led the party into the parlour where Logan and Lucifer sat on opposing sofa’s in an awkward silence.
Logan stood to assist one man in a dreary grey suit pull a small desk to sit behind the third sofa and helped him set up his notebook and pen. A uniformed officer stood like a living statue to the arm of the sofa, his purpose was unexpected and unexplained as he remained still and mute.
The dreary suited man’s dullness extended beyond his bleak outfit to his thinning mouse brown hair and wrinkled face with sad, watery looking brown eyes. He engaged in short small talk with Logan.
The tap of two sets of shoes announced the arrival of Seraphina and Detective Parker. The woman who entered was not what Lucifer expected. She was young, with smooth skin and a lithe gait and a pretty face. Her eyes were green and gave her an intelligent pondering appearance, honey blonde hair was pulled back tightly combined with her powerful stance and blue suit she gave an intimidating and authoritative feel.
Though attractive Lucifer despised the way that when she laid those green eyes upon him they filled with some type of expression like disgust. She sat on the couch.
“Good morning Lucifer Noxsonn, I am Detective Parker. This-” she gestured to the dreary man - “is Mr.Greyson. He will be writing your statements-”
“I am being recorded?” Lucifer asked in an angry tone.
“Yes, you are,” she said curtly before continuing. “This is Captain James Holt, he will be our witness.” She flipped open a notebook. “I am here to speak to you on the case of your sister's death.” Lucifer narrowed his eyes at her.
“You’re five years late,” He said, hoping his tone was as cold as it needed to be. Logan coughed pointedly but Lucifer ignored it.
“So I am. Now, can we proceed with this interview?” The Detective asked in a dismissive tone. “Where were you the night of Aherah Noxsonn’s death?”
He would let on as little as possible, forfeit information and hopefully she’d drop the case in a matter of days. “I can’t remember, as I stated before it has been a long time.” The Detective didn’t seem unnerved, which frustrated him further.
“I see,” was all she said, scribbling something in her notebook. “When did you find out about her death?”
He remembered it clearly. That night he had gone to a rowdy bar with Seraphina, they both spent the night pretending to enjoy themselves and he stumbled home drunk and passed out on the sofa. He woke up midday the sound of a sharp tap at the door. A uniformed officer began his speech and Lucifer could still remember how his heart dropped. “The next day I guess.”
Again the Detective nodded. “What was your relationship with Asherah?”
At this he stumbled, his eyes prickled. He couldn’t let on though, not if he wanted his life back. “We were siblings- we were siblings-" he quickly corrected, "she was kind.” He shrugged after this statement. There was a prolonged pause in which the Detective looked at him, perhaps expecting more. “I would like you to drop this case immediately.” He finally said, just to break the unnerving silence.
“You have no power to do that, I’m sorry.” She said, flipping her notebook closed. Lucifer’s brows furrowed.
“Of course I do, I’m close family.” The detective stood.
“Yes, you are-” she said, gathering her things “and now you are also a top suspect.”
The world froze.
* - * - *
His thoughts were a whirling storm of utter confusion. “W-What?” he stumbled.
“I said you are now a top suspect, your coldness to the event and forgetfulness do not reflect the symbols of the loss of a loving relationship. Captain Holt will now read you your rules and rights.”
As the Captain began Lucifer could not hear him, Logan was suddenly beside him, a strong hand on his shoulder a repetitive chant in his smooth voice “are you okay? Lucifer are you okay?”
He heard Seraphina say “Impossible-” and there were other words he didn’t catch that sounded like curses but he couldn’t be sure.
“You can’t do this!” He insisted desperately, stumbling a step forward.
The detective looked him up and down. “Actually I can.”
Lucifer shook his head. “It wasn’t me!”
“On what grounds are you to prove that? You expect me to take you for your word? That isn't how this works. If you are truly innocent the case will prove it so.”
How could he take that chance? The department would jump to any lead they could, conclusions would be made before the case was even investigated any further. How the media would love it, Distraught Famous Writer/Director Proven Guilty For Sister’s Murder. They grabbed ahold of it like rabid animals the first time. Right after Asherah’s death when he accused his father and a preliminary hearing had been held. His eyes stung. “I can help you!”
The detective raised her eyebrow. “Can you now?”
His breathing sounded jagged in his ears. “Yes, I can, give me a chance to prove myself innocent!”
The room stood still, the detective considered this silently, her brows furrowed in pondering. “You better have a good lead Mr.Noxsonn otherwise you’ll be trialled.”
Lucifer pulled in a breath. “I do.” He lied. The detective nodded and something was clasped around his ankle.
“This is protocol, I can’t have you running away.” She said with a slight smirk that sent red-orange flames burning in his chest and anger flareing through his blood. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Noxsonn.” She almost spat out the last word.
“Bitch!” Seraphina exclaimed as the door shut behind the departing party. Logan was pacing anxiously, fiddling with his thumbs. Lucifer sat at the grand piano, his fingers hovering over the ivories.
No solutions could be found.
* - * - *
“We need to get your father to confess. Somehow convince her to go there and investigate him. He’s forbidden to lie.”
Lucifer was shaking. “It won’t be the confession that’s the hard part.” He said bluntly. “That old fool’s forbidden to lie but he can snap his fingers and have us killed before we even step planetside.”
Seraphina stamped her foot. “We have nothing else! Your facing jail time and a murder would destroy your reputation if you even get out of a life sentence.”
“God I hope you have the best lawyer in the world,” Logan added.
“Stop that Logan, focus on a winning plan, not a losing one,” Seraphina said, her eyes taking the sharp look they always did when she was conceiving a risky plan. “Lucifer, we escaped Convent, we can get that confession. We have seen harder times my friend.”
Logan nodded in agreement. “You’ll have a government force on your side, officers and swats, you won’t have a problem.”
The thought of defence relieved Lucifer fractionally and he dismissed his friends. “The detective will return tomorrow, until then we can’t do anything. Rest if you can.”
Logan left soon after the three shared a cup if hot tea saying, “Eddie will be hungry and upset. Call me if you need anything, I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Neither Seraphina nor Lucifer had the heart to tell the young man he was unneeded on the mission and would probably burden the already difficult plan even further. He just wanted to try and help, a quality that was rare in the world. Everyone had been torn down enough for the day Lucifer decided. So they masked their voices to be grateful and encouraging. When the door shut behind him Seraphina was the first to say what they both thought.
“We can’t let him die, he’s to… good.”
Since the pairs escape from the terrible life at Convent good things had been few and far between. But Logan, Logan was the people they had wanted to exsist out of the Convent, the type of person they spoke to each other about meeting. A ray of hope in a bottomless sea. He was gentle and young. The two of them had suffered through so much and it became apparent to Lucifer that if either was killed in a mission to save himself he could never forgive himself.
“You can’t come either Seraphina, I can’t let either of you die.” Seraphina was not one to argue with logic for the purpose of nostalgia. She knew the more people travelling the harder the escape would become. She merely nodded. “I understand.”
* - * - *
The next day was grey and drizzly, Lucifer threw a black trenchcoat over his suit and inspected it for cathairs he may have snagged from Logan, he found one and gave a tiny sad smile at it. Logan’s loyalty was admirable. He had fought two hours to remain on the mission before finally agreeing when Lucifer explained other ways to help him, such as discreetly searching for a lawyer should plan a backfire. He took to this new job immediately with Seraphina tagging along.
Their last words had been brief but over the polished tabletop Seraphina had slid him a handgun. “Just in case.” She said before they parted ways.
So Lucifer was left in an empty house enveloped by a weighty silence. His gun pressed against his ribcage from it’s hidden holster. He didn’t want to alert to Detective that he was carrying arms.
It would be a long journey to the planet and he now gritted his teeth at the time he would have to spend with someone who so quickly accused him of murdering his own sister. But he needed to do this. When the doorbell rang he expected a small army of uniformed officers. Instead, it was just Detective Parker, with jeans and a white long sleeve on.
“I expected an entourage.” He said, squinting his eyes suspiciously.
“I am no longer working under governmental resources. Off the clock, I’m Kailu Parker.”
“Kailu?”
“Still Detective Parker to you.”
This made him smile a little but he shook the expression off of his face. “I’m glad you packed, we may be away for a while.”
She nodded. “Where are we headed?”
Lucifer bit the inside of his cheek, even saying the name of that hideous place awoke a trembling fear and anger inside him. “Off world,” He was as vague as possible. He expected the detective to persist but she didn’t merely followed him to the car he had purchased of a shady salesman. It was janky and rumbled but it looked inconspicuous.
Lucifer pointed at his ankle. “First of all, you need to take that off.” The detective paused a short time, released a sigh before taking it off. “Good,” Lucifer said, feeling slightly lighter. “Get in, we have a lot of driving to do.”
* - * - *
Detective Parker quickly proved herself almost insufferable. Her chipper attitude made him grit his teeth in frustration. She rejected his classical music, then again laughed at his best CD’s. She insisted on playing the radio, channels that blasted autotuned rap and pop. She turned it up to eighty-seven and sung along in an off-key voice. He suddenly realized this case meant nothing to her. Justice probably meant nothing to her. So long as someone was behind bars and the right sheets were signed she would have her promotion or reputation or whatever she wanted out of this whole ordeal. Yet he still needed her compliance if he wanted to even stand a chance. So he grit his teeth, fixed his dark eyes on the road ahead and kept a death-grip on the steering wheel.
The ship they caught to cross to was of the cargo sort. They stood in the cold wind by the port, the shadows pressing around them. There was no light beside the oily glow of overhead lights which failed to light up the rows and rows of cargo containers. Finally, an old, rusted craft landed on the air strip. Men began yelling, throwing rope to dock. They squawked amongst themselves in seemingly organized panic.
Every part of the situation made the hair on Lucifer’s neck stand.
Twelve days on this thing would surely take a toll on him. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to book a unionized ship? But he needed to think about the paper trail. This ship’s captain had told them he could take them to a trading planet near Convent (the small, tera-formed terrestrial Beta-Class planet he’d spent the first half of his life upon) even adding that one of his friends could then land them planetside. The whole ordeal was rough around the edges but still, it proved their best and only chance.
As two men strolled up to them and gruffly took their hands in their freezing calloused ones to give them a firm shake. One paused to light a cigarette and the other introduced them. “I’m Scottie, the captain-” Scottie was old with thinning white hair, a turkey-like chin covered in salt and pepper whiskers and watery blue-grey eyes. His breath smelled sour like whiskey and cigarettes. “And this is Pip-”
“It’s Ollie,” Pip corrected with an annoyed sigh proving that you can’t give yourself a nickname.
Scottie gave a rasping laugh that ended in strained coughing. “Whatever Pippin.”
Pip glowered and drew another breath of his cigarette. Lucifer again expected the detective to question the situation. She again did not. Instead, she looked at the ship and asked in a keen voice: “When are we leaving?”
Scottie laughed. “Keen aren’t we lassie, give the boys some time to warm themselves. Y'all can climb aboard, Pip'll show you to ya boarding.”
“Ollie,” Pip corrected under his breath, he proceeded to take one last savouring drag of smoke before crumbling it with his boot into the wet cement.
“Follow me,” He said in a tone that implied he’d much rather join his friends who were now jostly and jogging their way to the small bar a mile or so away. He lead them through a series of narrow hallways. “‘Ere ya go, best view,” he said, opening a heavy door into a tiny room with two wire beds with thin water-stained mattresses and dirty sheets. They looked around their new residence. The paint was chipped and the one window was round and overlooked a swaying sea.
Lucifer turned to Pip, who was glancing back to the hallway. “Thank-you, we’ll be alright from here.” Pip nodded and quickly scurried off, closing the door behind them. Lucifer checked his watch. “One-thirty, I’m going to try and get some shut-eye.”
He looked at the Detective who looked neither tired or disheveled. “I’d like to explore.”
“Tsk.”
She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What?”
He wondered if she’d back down, admit she was tired. She didn’t. He shrugged “Suit yourself.”
She pulled on a heavier coat, tightened her ponytail and pulled open the door. It shut behind her, five minutes past and she had not returned. He took off his jacket with a sigh and took out the gun, hiding it in one of his drawers. This plan had to work.
* - * - *
The two managed to avoid each other for the next two days after departing from Earth. Lucifer was amazed to see the detective enjoying herself. She spent her days helping the boys move things and tinker with the engine. She proved a pair of strong and helpful hands. The ship was making quicktime.
In the evening’s she drunk beer and shared loud stories of shoot-outs and being on the police-force side of the law. Some of the lads probably saw a whole new perspective through her stories. By the fourth morning, they were calling her “Karrie,” or “Missus,” and begging her to finish last night’s story or share their cigarettes.
The only thing they would ask Lucifer was if he’d slept with her. Then they’d fall about laughing. The same joke lasted long in the dark emptiness of space.
On the evening of the fourth day she found him looking out at the bleakness surrounding them. Over the past couple of days, they avoided any turbulence posed by the pull of the gas giants and made the journey a bit more bearable. However, he was still constantly hassled by the ship-hands so he took to finding forgotten places to sit and think or read. This spot was usually abandoned, an unsheltered part of the deck usually cold and shaky but space was calm and forgiving today.
“Wanna come grab a drink?” She asked, glancing behind her. He sighed through his nose.
“No,” He responded bluntly.
“C’mon, you have to atleast try and have a bit of fun.”
He scoffed at this. “I am the top suspect of my sister’s murder case.
She narrowed her eyes in the way he had learnt that meant she was thinking. “No, you aren’t. You wouldn’t be here if you were.”
“Jesus, thanks,” he said with heavy sarcasm. She squinted at him. Heartbeats passed. “What?”
“I’m trying to work you out,” She responded before shrugging off a silent thought and turning on heal. She seemed so adult-like (claiming all the moral leverage of the situation), whereas he was akin to a child. The words settled under his skin and set him alight. He thought of going after her, requesting a drink and continuing the argument until he won. But she had already disappeared. The air grew progressively colder and he retreated to his room.
* - * - *
On the sixth day, she found him again with a packet of beers. She sat silently and threw one to him before turning to look at the window at the red dwarf sun that marked them ¾ done with their journey. He could handle alcohol very well but she couldn’t (if her drunken recounts of stakeouts where anything to go by). She nursed her second beer and watched him drain his first and take another. For the first three cans, they sat in silence. The brew was cheap and tasted too bitter but tipsy was a welcomed state of mind.
“What are you thinking?” She suddenly asked.
Lucifer was unable to blame the alcohol for his groggy laugh and candid words; “Where I grew up you could hear the ocean lap against the land. The echoes in the ship remind me of it, it reminds me of her. When she was alive. It was bad, the place I grew up. But she was there. And I can’t decide if I would go back again.”
She considered this. “You did what you did for her. But she wasn’t the only person who cared about you. Your friends, you push them away. Just because Asherah’s dead doesn’t mean you have to be.”
“I-” He tried to summon the correct words.
“You seem to grieve people who aren’t even dead yet.” After a second of stuttering wordlessness, she stood, tipped her beer to him and smiled. “This is justice, Lucifer.”
She left him alone. He avoided her for the rest of the trip and her words echoed in his thoughts.
* - * - *
Scottie’s word proved valuable for when they landed in the mainland port another old weather-beaten Captain awaited them. The two made gruff yelled greetings, slapped each other's backs before Lucifer and the Detective where introduced. “Karrie and Lucifer this is my old friend Captain.” Captain smiled at them heartily, though rough around the edges we seemed welcoming. “He’ll take you to Convent, though I’m not sure why anyone would willing go there.”
The twitch of a frown on the normally jovial man’s face gave Lucifer pause. How many people had he seen succumb to the will of the Convent - of his father? Those with lives and futures and someone awaiting them back on their respective planets.
Lost, wandering souls - like his mother.
Broken and hurt - like Seraphina's mother.
Young, haunted people - like him.
Good people - like the detective.
* - * - *
Captain turned to be a great man.
He called himself Captain and Lucifer wondered if he had forgotten his name or space had stolen it. Captain knew the system well and spoke about the planets fondly sharing tales and stories of when he was younger and keener. He spoke of poetry, cherry pies and things he missed about the homeland when he was away.
When they planet drew near enough to see a sombrerity settled over the ship. The detective came up to stand beside him and squint into the distance.
“So you really are just Kailu Parker at the moment?” He asked.
She squinted then shrugged at him. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Good,” he said, drawing out his gun and clicking in his ammunition. She looked at it before drawing her own to show him. He nodded.
“So this is it?” She asked, turning again to look at the silhouette of land shrouded by mist and rain as they descended into the atmosphere.
“This is it,” he repeated softly to himself.
* - * - *
“I don’t think you understand the extent people here are willing to go to.” He insisted, grabbing the Detective’s elbow as she attempted to leap out of the ship. She gave a frustrated sigh and turned to him.
“I understand, some old, rather backwards religious jerks. All I need is a confession, stop being so dramatic.” She swiped her limb back.
“Stop!” He pleaded, his eyes scanned the grassy banks. With the cloak of mist shrouding the buildings, it looked even more ominous. No one had come to greet them but by the loud sounds of the ship the people of Convent had most likely been alerted of the unexpected arrival. They would be waiting. His stomach was a knot. “Look can you just calm down Parker? We need a game plan.”
The detective shrugged this off. “We have one, get in, get the confession on this tape then get out. We’re carrying arms Lucifer it can’t be more serious than that.” Two measly handguns, a shiver passed through his spine. She was now half-way down the mounting ramp, the Captain was looking impatient, his stout body leaned against the doorframe of the ship. When Lucifer looked at him he tapped his wrist and gave a crooked yellow tooth grin.
Hiding a shudder and checking his ammunition Lucifer ran after the detective. “Finally decided to show up, I was begging to think I’d have to do this by myself.”
“Shut up,” He growled.
“Fine then,” it almost sounded like a laugh was concealed behind her soft voice which made Lucifer even angrier.
They were met halfway up the road by two young men, perhaps he would recognize them if long black coats didn’t conceal most of their features. “Follow us.” One said with an empty, hollow-sounding voice.
They slowly made progress up the winding road before taken by another set of cloaked people who lead them into the heart of the planet’s main village and through winding passageways. Suddenly they stopped, cloaks swishing. A large oak door stood before them at the end of the corridor. Lucifer secretly touched the hidden gun.
The two figures rapped on the door.
After several silent heartbeats, it swung open to reveal his father, wearing a black suit and looking exactly as he remembered him, right down to the cruel smile he flashed them. “My wayward son, home again - a place he forsook. To what do I owe this pleasure, should I tell your siblings?”
“Did you kill Asherah Noxsonn.” The detective demanded, and to Lucifer’s horror his father turned his smile upon her.
“Physically I did not lay a hand on that child,” and Lucifer contained a snarl - for the entirety of their childhood that would have been a lie. “Although it is my Lord's work to help those unenlightened find the path and punish those who stray. The actions of my Lord are my own, and he knows what must be done.”
The world fell around him. His father must have delegated - ordered - Asherah’s murder.
Detective Parker stared back, into eyes Lucifer could not hold, “Let me rephrase, did you orchestrate the murder of Asherah Noxsonn?”
“The presence of so many disbelievers is unwelcome on the island, take your leave. As accordance with the Private World Legislation, page 4,679 I ask this only once.” His father met his eyes and smiled. “Goodluck.” He mouthed.
And Lucifer latched onto the detective’s arm and for everything he held dear forced his legs not to run.
“Lucifer!” Parker was shouting, though she matched his brisk pace, “Where you just threatened, did he just threaten our lives?” Softer he thought he heard her say, “Jesus, the shining example of the Private Worlds is a cult. A father ordered a hit on his daughter without remorse. He’s guilty, he’s guilty…”
“Detective…” he began, but she shook her head and walked with a vigor to match him.
* - * - *
Halfway back to the dock Lucifer realized they were being followed at some distance. He tried not to change his gaint but the detective must have noticed his expression for in a low whisper she asked: “What’s going on?”
“We’re being followed, be ready to take out your gun.” The detective stiffened at this, her pace changed and she edged closer to him. “Look normal!”
Then a shot rang out.
It took the breath out of him, he couldn’t think, but the bullet had not hit him. The detective gingerly touched her lower abdomen. She turned her gaze to him - shocked, but not frightened, with a thread of steely resolve in her green depths. Lucifer spun quickly, firing six sporadic misses before the seventh one caught skin and he heard a yell of pain.
He pulled Parker into a jog, and though she stumbled she managed to will her limbs to cooperate. She turned weakly, drew her gun and fired one shot. Her aim was infinitely better than his, her bullet hit and there was a soft thud as the man fell and a yelp of pain.
“Leg shot, I’m not here to kill anyone.” She breathed at Lucifer’s raised brow.
The chase was taken up by another pair of figures. Two shots were fired from behind them, they hit the dirt so close to the fleeing pair that one misstep and it would have been Lucifer’s leg instead of the ground. Again the Detective fired, but she was weakening from blood loss and it took eight shots before a yell of pain sounded. The success was short lived as six return shots narrowly missed.
“Focus on running!” He insisted.
“I don’t need your help!” The detective spat back.
Asherah flashed into his mind. The two of them once again sitting at the piano. Her groaning and complaining and ruining the ivories and laughing at her brother. In fact, the detective reminded him of Asherah in several ways, her chipper attitude in misplaced situations, her eagerness to avenge and her willful determination to prove herself to anyone and everyone. They were so close to the dock now but he couldn’t see the ship. He cursed. They continued at an agonizing pace, missed shots fired both by themselves and whoever was following.
Then one caught his calf, at the sudden pain and he gave a yell and staggered.
“Cmon!” Parker yelled, but their stop had allowed another two bullets to catch his left thigh and right ankle. He fell, clasping the bleeding limb, his whole body ringing with pain. Three more shots and Parker was withering beside him, clasping her hip.
He couldn’t think.
A figure was almost upon them.
The figure leapt.
Lucifer’s gun clicked out of ammunition.
Suddenly Parker had rolled onto him, bracing a knife before her. When the figure landed on them it knocked the breath out of Lucifer, he heard screaming then silence. Parker rolled the body off her, her eyes wide and fear had leaked into the steadfast steel. The body beside them was breathless a sharp blade sheathed deep inside his chest cavity. Two more figures quickly replaced him.
The pair tried dragging themselves away.
They were gaining ground.
Two shots fired and Lucifer closed his eyes. He opened them seconds later.
The cloaked figures had fallen. Captain was suddenly beside them, dragging their arms up. Lucifer remembered the Captain hollering victory at the top of his lungs before the world went blank.
* - * - *
Two weeks later after a short investigation and shorter trial, their (still alive) attackers were deemed guilty and sentenced to a lifetime in jail.
Even though his father slipped free with a few well placed lies, bribes, and declarations of a xenophobic sector of Convent who would be disciplined, Lucifer slept well that night. The next morning came hesitant sunshine.
He walked five miles to the local cemetery to lay purple flowers on his sister’s headstone. Purple had always been her favourite colour. He talked with Asherah for hours about all that had happened since that fateful night, the first time in six long years.
He began with the pain, how the world stopped spinning when he learned of her death.
The first trial, with his father and brother with their endless smirks and hard knowing eyes.
The silent house, devoid of her and Seraphina who he drove away.
Long empty days, longer emptier nights that music and writing could not fill.
And then the people who did, who had come to ease the burden of her death.
The old, who she knew:
Logan Hunters and his ugly cat and the way he loved so fully and completely. Who spoke of simple things and made the world sound beautiful. And it was, though Asherah already was privy to that fact.
Seraphina no longer slept with a knife under her mattress. She smiled more, and once tried to cook lasagna and Lucifer said he hated it in a voice that implied the opposite. Told in long whimsical sentences how Logan didn’t stop talking about it for days.
The new, who she would have loved:
Pip and Scottie, though they teased him he came to appreciate their strange ways and the closeness between the boys on the ship. When it was only twenty men against light-years and light-years of open space real friendships were formed.
He spoke of the Captain who loved poetry and cherry pie who was the perfect shot just when they needed it.
And finally told of a detective with a silver tongue and intelligent eyes who had reminded him so much of her. Too much at times.
He talked and talked, and though it wasn’t the same (it would never be again), he stayed until the sun began to dip behind the skyline illuminating the City of Angels with a heavenly showcase of red, pink, and blue until settling into the dusky purple of night.
Wounds were healing. The shadow that settled over the house since her death was receding.
It was just as she would’ve wanted it.
Light.
Written by: SofiaNotSophia (#135984) with edits by myself