Man that You Fear

[Celeste Vida]

 There was no elegance in death; no beauty or honor or dignity. Contrary to what poets and terminally ill patients would like to believe, death was disgusting and messy and stripped creatures of things like pride. All animals died the same - afraid and alone. Lucifer sat in the chair, suspending the Vida witch in an endless loop of those last moments. He'd stripped her magic with scary ease, and left her utterly defenseless against the onslaught of physical attacks. Much to his annoyance, the wards he couldn't touch, and oh he'd tried, practically reaching into Danielle's very soul to get them out but they appeared to be Angelic in nature. It meant he couldn't jump into her body, which still kept the fact that Tim was her biological father unknown to Lucifer (and Danielle), but since he couldn't jump into her body, she was useless to him - and the wards didn't do anything beyond exactly what they had been made to do.

She sat in the kitchen chair he'd left her tied to, head tipped to one side, eyes half-open in a semi-conscious state. It was very clear that death was just on the other side of this heartbeat or that, but as Lucifer kept her breathing, she was in a never-ending cycle of pain, feeling every injury sustained fully. Blood poured from a wound on her head, matting her blonde hair and making her near-unrecognizable. It was obvious that some of her wounds were defensive, but the overwhelming majority were not, making it clear that Lucifer was out of her league in terms of opponents. He was out of everyone's league, actually. They just hadn't realized it yet.

"Just.. fucking.. kill.. me.." she wheezed, mouth barely able to move as she rolled her eyes to look at him. She couldn't even feel her legs - he'd crushed her spine somewhere when he'd stomped on her. Sitting in a pool of her own blood and fluid, she was almost thankful for the fact that he'd paralyzed her, because if what she felt now was any indication of what he'd done to the rest of her, she didn't want to feel it.

"Oh, I will," Lucifer said, smiling with Tim's face at Danielle. Except, it wasn't Tim's smile, because Lucifer had made it all his own. And it was terrifying. "Just waiting for your dear mother to arrive. I predict your little boyfriend will run right after. Tell me, if both of you are dead, who's left to be the next witchy bitch in charge?"

Danielle didn't get to answer him, because they both heard a car door slam shut and fleeted clicking steps as Celeste ran towards the door. "Guess we're about to find out," he said, grinning.

As soon as Celeste flung the door open, it was like entering a wall of heat. Lucifer was up and moving - unlike Danielle, who'd gotten a few shots in before he'd snatched her magic away, it was his first priority with the older, more powerful witch. The sensation of having your magic forcibly pulled from your bones was painful to say the least, and stopped any and all attacks she could have made for the moment. Lucifer took the opportunity to grab her by the neck, and dragged her to face her daughter.

"I wish I could say that you'd both reunite again in the afterlife, but we all know that's never going to happen. Doesn't matter how good you are, God's creatures don't include witches. Trust me, I know," he whispered. "Any last words?"

"Danielle, I - "

Lucifer broke her neck before she said anything else, and dropped her body unceremoniously onto the floor.

"Mama..." Danielle managed. She looked up at Lucifer, one eye grey and the other ringed in red from blown out blood vessels.

"How about you? Got anything to say?" he asked, leaning in close to her. "Come on, darlin'... I'll hear your confession before I put you down." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Fuck you," she hissed. She gasped as Lucifer jammed her own knife through the side of her neck, unable to say anything else, or even scream, as blood poured from both mouth and gaping wound in her neck. Lucifer pulled the knife out, watching intently as the light slowly left her eyes.

As she faded into death, he took her by the shoulders, and in a very serious voice said, "Sorry sweetheart, not into cripples."

With the two witches dead, he knew he'd started his time on the clock. Now, all he needed to do was wait - the first name on his hit ist would be inbound as soon as he felt the power balance take that drastic dive - and dive it did, straight to the bottom of the pit where he was.