The tie that binds

“We are so fucked!!!” Lucifer’s voice carried throughout the cells of hell. It was usual for Satan’s son to come calling, but when he did even the most fearsome demons hid. They all knew Satan’s son could make his father seem like a fluff bunny. No one could cause pain and humiliation with the finesse of Lucifer.

“No, son, YOU are the one that is fucked. I, and rest of the lowly minions, are safe and sound in our home.” Satan’s replied in a voice as soft and smooth as velvet. “You failed to do what was needed in order to prevent her awakening, now YOU will deal with the results. I will sit here in the comfort of my realm and watch.”

Lucifer knew he had overstepped when he raised his voice, but the anger and…..was it fear? Yes, it was fear. The anger and fear he had experience form the moment he felt the awakening had driven him to seek out his father, the one being he hated above all others.

“I’m sorry, father. I didn’t mean to raise my voice.” Lucifer attempted to sound contrite, and failed miserably. “Everything was under control until that bastard Death began to meddle. HE is the one at fault for this, not I.”

Even as the words left his lips, Lucifer realized his mistake. His father could not abide someone that did not take responsibility for their mistakes. He could forgive a mistake, if being tortured for a few hours as opposed to being tortured for centuries amounted to forgiveness. But to blame another for your screw-up, that was something he refused to allow.

Lucifer didn’t have time to brace for the assault before he found himself pinned against the far wall, his feet dangling a foot above the floor. Pain rippled through his body as his blood began to boil within his veins. Throwing back his head he screamed out his agony, praying to a God that no longer listened for it to stop.

As suddenly as it began, the torture stopped. He felt himself gently settle on the floor and although his legs were too weak to hold his weight he remained upright. Red tinted steam emanated from his skin, more proof of the fact that he had been as close to death as he would ever be. Taking a ragged breath, he struggled to take back control of his body.

“Death only did what he had to do, son. He didn’t ‘meddle’ in this any more than you did.” Satan said. “If the two of you had continued this stupidity everything would have crumbled. Although I do not agree with my Father, He has rules that He will NOT allow to be broken. The two of you were breaking them and that could not be allowed to continue.”

Satan stared at his son. Lucifer was a wonderful specimen of what true beauty could be. Satan once looked like that, tall, muscular with skin that shone like satin with hair like spun gold. He had lost more than his wings when his Father threw him out of Heaven, he had lost his identity. Satan had vowed not to damage his own son the way his Father had damaged him.

“Sit down before you fall down.”

A chair appeared behind Lucifer just as his knees gave out. His father had never been overly kind, the pain of all he had lost had twisted him into something unrecognizable, but he had never been outright cruel to Lucifer either. As a matter of fact, he treated him with a back-handed gentleness that was almost worse than outright cruelty.

“Son,” Satan began, “I don’t mean to be so harsh to you. But you must understand, now that she is awake everything will change. If Death cannot find a way to control her all of us will pay the price. I don’t believe Death CAN control her, but it is better for him to try than for you to risk everything. Even my Father would have difficulty with her, and he is the Creator of all.”

Lucifer stared at Satan in shock. Never before had his father ever said a kind word to him, never before had he ever said he didn’t mean to be “harsh” with him. Things must be worse than Lucifer realized for his father to be acting in such a manner. And to hear that even the Big Guy would have a problem with that little bitch was almost more than Lucifer could stand.

“What is she?” Lucifer’s voice was barely above a whisper. He was afraid his father was setting him up for a harsh punishment, the out of character actions had to be an act. “Why is she so important? She’s just a parasite, a carrion eater.”

Lucifer was stunned as Satan burst out laughing. He had rarely heard laughter from the King of Hell, and he had never heard laughter such as this. Fear, that unfamiliar feeling that seemed all too common today, once again began to curl in his gut, Satan laughing was a sure sign that things were taking a turn for the worse.

“A carrion eater! Yes, she was that, wasn’t she?” Satan gasped between fits of now hysterical laughter. “I’ll pay for that one, I’m sure. She never did have a sense of humor.”

Lucifer stiffened. His father spoke of the bitch as though he actually knew her, or had known her. There was something in the way he spoke of her that conveyed affection. He had never known his father to be affectionate toward anyone, especially a ghoul.

“Father,” Lucifer began, “you speak of her as though you know her. She’s just a flesh eating parasite, a being that is too stupid to die. How is it that YOU know her?”

“Well, Lucy,” Satan replied, knowing his son hated the nickname, “that ‘flesh eating parasite’, that ‘being that is too stupid to die’ is your Mother.”

Satan’s laughter echoed in Lucifer’s head as darkness enveloped him and he sank into a stupor. The word Mother chased him into oblivion.