Rae Rae had turned off the TV, and now two Demons, an Angel and the Antichrist were sitting in the living area of the penthouse, watching the man in his robe. Alex said:
"Okay, Thomas. Maybe you want to tell us why you were jogging in your boxers in a forest with a group of blood-lusting so-called Satanists on your heels."
Those words made the young man go a little pale, and he said:
"Is all this real? I'm not hallucinating? I'm really in the company of an Angel, two Demons and the Devil's son?"
The Antichrist nodded:
"Not a dream; you are not hallucinating; you are not in a coma somewhere, and you are certainly not dead. Azrael, you already know, that lady over there is my aunt Mazikeen, and this here is my mom Celine. For all clarity, not my natural mother but the mom who raised me after my mother died in childbirth. As stated, I am Alexander, son of Lucifer, and better known to you people as the Antichrist."
The young man shook his head and said:
"I am an atheist... No, I was an atheist. Nothing of what I see and hear matches what is written in the Bible—what was ever written about Heaven and Hell, the Devil, Angels, Demons, and the Antichrist."
Celine and Maze laughed out loud, and Rae Rae asked:
"What would you have preferred? That Lucifer looked like in a horror movie and would eat you or your soul? That as an Angel I would immediately go to war with every Demon I meet? Or that our Alex here would have a plan to kill a few billion people, destroy the planet, and then go to war against the Angelic Host and Jesus in an attempt to remove Father from the throne?"
Thomas got big eyes and quickly said:
"No, no, of course not, but this is all so strange. You are so human."
Alexander winked at the young man and said:
"Let me let you in on a little secret, Thomas. Mankind and the Demons were created in the image of the Angels. Let's say God, my grandpa had a little lack of inspiration. Unfortunately, something went wrong with the Demons and they were later more or less split into two groups. The more human ones, as you call it, like my mom and aunt here, and a part that really evolved in the wrong direction, more beast than anything else. Humans were given the gift of complete free will, and if you know the history of your species a little, you know the excesses it has led to. The original species, the Angels, are not all what you would call Saints either. There are zealots among them who can be really dangerous. You see, the races are not that different from each other, and you all have things in common. My father Lucifer may be the Devil, but he is more human than a lot of people walking around on the face of this planet. Granted, he can be an idiot, but he is a benign idiot who wouldn't hurt a human being and is always willing to help. The stories about the Devil and the Antichrist are just that, stories. Lies deliberately spread among men, and man, with all his imagination, has run with that and made whatever the fuck out of those myths. The only thing that can still be recognized as truth is the origin of the Devil in those legends. He is the Archangel who was banished by God to Hell. But that's where it ends."
"But he rules Hell?"
Alexander nodded thoughtfully and asked in turn:
"Tell me, Thomas; suppose you lived on an island and you were the boss of everyone on that island. There comes a time when you have to build a prison for residents who fuck things up so badly that they have to be banished to that prison. Who would you appoint as a prison warden? The biggest, most dangerous, meanest criminal you could find, or someone who you know with certainty would never stoop to such undesirable behavior, someone who always and everywhere tells the truth regardless of whether that truth is popular or not, someone with a moral compass that you know is chiseled in granite?"
The young man pondered those words, nodded softly, and said:
"I think I understand. You want the Joker locked up in the Arkham Asylum, not that the Joker is the warden of the asylum, which would be a disaster for everyone."
"Exactly, Thomas, you totally get it."
"If the Devil is nothing like what popular literature tells us, then I guess the Antichrist is also different from what we see in movies or read in books."
The three women giggled, and Alexander said:
"Let's put it this way, Thomas; I don't want to exterminate or dominate humanity because I'm really fond of you humans and what you are capable of. The good things, I mean. I love nature as it is, and I certainly don't want a war with my grandfather and with Rae Rae's brothers and sisters because they are my uncles and aunts."
"But you're the Antichrist?"
"Technically yes. At least that's what humanity has made of it. If Lucifer has a son, then according to you people, he should be the Antichrist. No one has ever asked Lucifer or me for our opinion or what we think about it. According to you people, I would automatically become the great enemy of God and want a war where I would just about wipe out humanity and destroy the Earth. As if that is baked into my genes and I have no choice in the matter. No one has ever asked me if this is something I want to do. Man has forgotten a very simple principle in all these fantastic stories, Thomas."
"'What then?"
"The famous or infamous free will. The precept that the Antichrist must be a child of Lucifer and a human woman. Thereby forgetting that the Antichrist is a Nephilim, half-human. But that being half-human does mean that I have full free will. That free will means that I can simply say that you can fuck off with your ideas and that I never, ever want to or will unleash the Apocalypse."
One could almost hear Thomas's brain cracking as he processed this information. Alex said:
"But enough about my little person. How did you end up in this misery, Thomas?"
The young man drank the rest of his glass after Maze immediately refilled it. He took a deep breath and began to recount:
"I try to make it as a freelance journalist. I write articles and sometimes stories. Some I've already been able to publish. Most I put on X, Instagram, Facebook, and so on. A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon a story about a group of Satanists on a more obscure thread on Reddit. I started doing some digging and got in touch with someone from that group online. We wrote back and forth for a while. I thought I had established a connection, and he invited me for a getting-to-know at a coffee shop downtown. That all went well, and then I was invited to witness a ceremony. I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen and what they were planning. Long story short, apparently it was me they were interested in. So I went to meet the whole group in Louisiana. They took me to that nature reserve with those dense pine forests. I had to undress and make a run for it. An hour they gave me to escape, then they would come after me, and if they caught me... Well, nothing good was about to happen."
Alexander looked at him sternly:
"You don't really strike me as someone who is stupid, Thomas. That's why I have to ask you: Why? Why did you think it would be a good idea to visit Satanists?"
"I thought the whole thing was a bunch of hocus-pocus, nothing real. Some wannabes who wanted to be interesting. I did not think anything real would come out of it. I just wanted to document it and write a story about it."
"I understand that, man! Do you know the difference between Satanists and Luciferians?"
The young man blinks his eyes and shook his head softly. The Antichrist said:
"Satanists, the real ones at least, believe in Satan. The Devil, as depicted as we said earlier in popular literature. Evil himself, the personification of all evil and all sin. The followers of Satan believe they can do anything, the vilest things, and yes, that includes rape and murder. Those people are damn dangerous for outsiders like yourself. Most do not go further than playacting or the sacrifice of a chicken or maybe a goat. But there are real bad ones out there that try to go all the way. I admit that you couldn't know beforehand that the group you went to was just using the whole Satanist thing to have power over others, use a lot of drugs and alcohol, and abuse younger people. But that basically doesn't matter. How could you get it into your head to expose yourself unassisted and unarmed to a group that claimed to be worshippers of a being who embodies all that is evil and wrong? People who think the Marquis de Sade is a hero for his stand on morality and the things he did. That loony tune really believed that to be free, no human law, rule, or morality should be adhered to. Did you really think they would invite you over for tea and cookies, let you quietly document everything, and then drop you off neatly and safely back home?"
When the young man did not seem to answer those questions directly and turned a bit pale, Antichrist simply continued:
"You really should have done your homework, Thomas. If you really want to write a good piece that is going to get attention on social media, write something about Luciferians. Believe me, you are going to get attention from three sides. Twice negative, from the Christian side and the more traditional conservative side, because you write about Lucifer, and most of those folks cannot tell the difference between him and Satan. But I think on social media, negative attention is also attention, views, and therefore money. And you will attract the attention from a more logical side, people who want to engage with you or your story. I notice you've focused so much on this group that you haven't done enough research. So let me put it this way: Lucifer represents human intellect, enlightenment, and questioning of religious authority. Rather than being evil, Lucifer is seen as a liberator who encourages humans to think freely. Luciferians do not believe in worshipping any external deity. They view Lucifer as a symbol, not an actual being to be worshipped. Think about what almost happened to you, Thomas; think about how and what you want to write in the future. If you want to continue on this path and write more about the supernatural, Heaven, Hell, God, Lucifer, Angels, and Demons, fine, no problem, but make sure you don't get into trouble again. I won't always be there to get you out of shit!"
Thomas looked at him intensely for a while and then asked:
"Can we talk about this then? All my life, I have found this subject fascinating. Although I didn't believe in the existence of it all until I saw you guys, I've always wanted to know how faith works and where myths and legends come from."
Alexander smiled:
"No problem, Thomas. If I have time, I do want to talk to you. But preferably when you're wearing pants next time... Or maybe you prefer to talk without pants; we can see how that talk goes..."
The young man turned a little red in the face, but a faint smile appeared on his face for the first time.
"Now it's time for you to go home and think about what happened. You can put your story on the net if you want, but I wouldn't do that if I were you. Just follow the news tomorrow, and you will know why. Unless you want to be grilled by the FBI..."
Thomas got big eyes and shook his head.
"Very well. Back home, you will find all your personal items plus my phone number in your cell phone."
Alexander snapped his fingers, and Thomas disappeared from the penthouse. He snapped his fingers again and suddenly had on a stylish tailored suit and said with mischief audible in his voice:
"I think I'd like to take a closer look at this lady who has suddenly appeared in Dad's life."
At the nightclub, Lucifer stood at the bar with his eternal drink in hand. He was a little nervous. He wasn't quite sure why. He the Devil nervous? He glanced at his wristwatch from time to time, and the hands seemed to creep forward agonizingly slowly toward the designated hour when Chloe Decker had said she would come in for a drink. When she came in, he saw her immediately. Exactly as he had expected. She had not changed; she still wore jeans, practical high shoes, and a short leather jacket. When she came to stand by him, he said:
"Detective, you look very functional even though you are in a nightclub."
"I'm not here to party, Lucifer. I'm here because you didn't stop whining. I thought if I came and had a glass, I might get rid of the nagging for a few days. It's the middle of the week; the sitter is at home with Trixie, and I have to get back to work tomorrow. So..."
He smiled at her as a bartender placed her favorite drink in front of her:
"Detective, you really are the oldest young person I've ever seen."
She bumped her glass against his and said with undisguised pleasure:
"And you are undoubtedly the sweetest, most irritating, utterly off-the-wall nightclub owner I have ever experienced."
Lucifer nodded:
"Indeed, but you said sweetest... Does this mean you have changed your mind and wish to see the inside of this devil's bedroom up close, hmmm..."
"In your dreams, Lucifer..."
Suddenly, the two heard an amused voice:
"Bedroom... Tell me if I'm wrong, but to be a room, doesn't a space have to be closed off from the rest? I mean, you're allergic to doors, Lucifer, then how can you call it a room?"
Chloe Decker looked at the young man who had joined them. She wondered if he was old enough to enter the club legally. He was about the same height as Lucifer, looked muscular and athletic, and dressed just as perfectly in an expensive tailored suit as Lucifer, but the comparison ended there. His hair was blond; he had wild curls; it hung down to his shoulders, and he had the brightest green eyes she had ever seen. The twinkle in his eyes and the small, warm smile around his mouth betrayed that he was having fun with what he had just said but more likely with life itself. At his side, Maze and a blond sex bomb in her early thirties were smiling. The young man said:
"Won't you introduce us to your guest Lucifer?"
The Devil took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and was suddenly a whole lot more nervous. Before, he had not known how to make it clear to the detective that he had a son, and now suddenly this one was standing in front of her. He said somewhat uncomfortably:
"Detective, may I introduce you? The blonde is Maze's older sister; her name is Celine, and the young man is... my son Alexander. Celine, Alex, this is Detective Chloe Decker."
Chloe looked strangely at Alex, but the latter still had the same smile on his face. He held out his hand, and when she grabbed it, he said:
"Pleased to meet you Detective Decker. I hope this idiot Devil of mine isn't causing you too much trouble."
She wanted to joke:
"If he is the Devil and your father, then you must be the Antichrist?"
The answer she got was definitely not what she expected:
"Absolutely. I have to admit that I look a lot better than how Hollywood usually portrays me."
Chloe rolled her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and said:
"Oh, God, it's a family thing..."
What Alexander said next made her hesitate for a moment. He said it so sincerely and without hesitation. She felt the same way she felt about Lucifer when he said he was the Devil. No deceit, no lies, nothing. She had developed a kind of radar for lies as a police officer and later as a detective, and it registered absolutely nothing with these two:
"Well, Grandpa made sure that Dad never lies, kind of part of being the Lightbringer, the Archangel who represents justice and creation. And Dad is a shining example, so I don't lie either. I can lie but choose not to. It is often much more fun to tell the truth instead of lies."
This conversation seemed to be taking on a depth that Lucifer did not like hearing at all, and he was really starting to get quite nervous now. He felt like his son was playing a totally open game with the detective here, and he was getting scared of her reaction when she finally connected the dots. She asked:
"Grandpa?"
"Yeah, you just mentioned him when you said it's a family trait."
She squeezed her eyes shut a little, and her voice softened a lot:
"God? You mean God?"
His smile got a whole lot wider, and he replied:
"Of course I mean God. Even if you are not religious detective, the story is common knowledge. The Devil was an Angel before he was banished to Hell. Indeed, the very first Angel, well, Archangel to be exact. Half of a twin, the demiurge as Dad and Uncle Micky are also called. Light and darkness, creation and destruction, matter and antimatter."
She took a sip of her drink and considered his words. She didn't really believe the young man, but something began to gnaw at the back of her mind. Along with Lucifer, Maze, Celine, and Lucifer, she took a seat in the owner's booth. She turned to Alex, who let his gaze wander admiringly over the guests present and more specifically their bodies, and asked:
"I read something about that once, yes, that the Devil was an Angel first, but the first one?"
He looked at her again with that warm look of his; it seemed he had no attention for anyone but her when he asked:
"Hmmm, not very familiar with the Bible, detective?"
"Not really, no. I wasn't really raised religiously."
"I can't blame your parents; pretty dry stuff all around. Especially Genesis. An entire laundry list of names and ages people should have had. Boooooring... The beginning of Genesis is kind of interesting, though, and God said, Let there be light..."
He pointed to Lucifer and said:
"That was the moment that idiot came into existence there along with his twin."
"Twins? Lucifer has a twin?"
"Yep, Uncle Micky. You people know him better as the Archangel Michael, the Prince of Heaven."
She thought for a moment and then asked:
"Just a moment, God is supposedly all-knowing and all-powerful, right?"
Alex nodded vehemently, took a sip, and said:
"Right, supposedly. But what are you trying to say, Detective?"
"Well, if God is all-knowing and he created Lucifer, then he must have known how that would end, right?"
He smiled at Lucifer and said:
"Dad, I bet if this lady has you and Grandpa in an interrogation room and after you guys are done pointing fingers at each other like a couple of toddlers having a tantrum, Miss Decker here could smooth out the family creases in no time!"
He looked Chloe tightly in the eyes and said:
"And what does that tell you, detective? God is all-knowing; he creates Lucifer, and so he must have known what an idiot he created and that someday Lucifer would end up in Hell. So why should he have done it? Why not create Lucifer in such a way that he would not rebel and stay in line instead?"
When she didn't seem to be going or able to answer that question, Alexander said:
"Free will, Miss Decker. That's what everything is about. Mankind has free will to do whatever man wants. Demons like Maze and Celine have that to a much lesser degree, and that will is restricted, especially in Hell. Demons cannot resist the one bound to the throne of Hell. Angels can actually be divided into two groups. One group has free will up to a point but has freely decided to serve, adhere to, and honor God, no matter what God says or decides, no matter how off-the-wall an idea may be, they will never question him. Then there is a group like Lucifer, Uncle Michael, my Aunt Azrael, and others who do dare to question things. With an absolute outlier, my idiot Dad, who simply walked up to grandpa and demanded that the Angels be given the exact perfect free will as humanity had been given. That didn't please Grandpa; the two got into a big argument, and Grandpa said, If Dad knew it all so well, then he should just try to run his own kingdom, and poof, his feathered ass was in Hell."
Chloe shook her head and said:
"From what you say, I can tell you weren't raised to be Christian. But why are you playing along with Lucifer's game? Why do you pretend everything is real, and are you his son?"
It was as if Alexander's eyes began to light up at what Chloe had said. As if he had been waiting for words to that effect.
"Ah, Detective Decker, now we're getting to where we're supposed to be. Was I raised Christian? No, not really. Other than the fact that I regularly hang out with Dad's youngest brother, or better, half-brother, and am best friends with that half-brother's son and daughter."
"Which half-brother, then, and what has he to do with this?"
"Yeshua ben Joseph, of course, Uncle J, better known to you as Jesus."
She looked at him incredulously and said a little disdainfully:
"Right, yes, Jesus is the Devil's half-brother..."
"Of course, how else does a family tree work, Miss Decker? It is common knowledge that Jesus is the son of God. All Angels are sons and daughters of God. If Lucifer was an Archangel before his fall, then he is also a son of God, so if both Jesus and Lucifer are sons of God, then that must mean they are brothers, or in this case, half-brothers. But to answer your question directly, no, I'm not really religious. I kind of had part of this talk a little earlier tonight with a young man. If a label has to be put on my view of all this, then Luciferian would come closest."
"A devil worshipper?"
Alexander shot into a deep laugh, got tears in his eyes, and finally said:
"Oh, heavens, dear no. You really need to do some research, detective. This is LA, more crackpots per square mile than anywhere else, and sooner or later it might come up in your day-to-day activities as a detective. Luciferians do not worship a deity—not the Devil but not God either. With Luciferians, everything revolves around individualism. Lucifer represents human intellect, enlightenment, and questioning of religious authority. Rather than being evil, Lucifer is seen as a liberator who encourages humans to think freely. Humans have complete free will, so humans are also 100% responsible for their own actions. It is man himself who chooses to do something good or do something evil. God does not make people do good things, and the Devil does not make them do evil things. You humans are absolutely responsible for what you do and no one else."
A young blonde beauty in a tight, short dress walked to the dance floor and smiled at Alexander. The latter winked at her and turned back to Chloe:
"Looks like that young lady has my number, and I have to answer that call. It was nice meeting you, detective. As for the rest of your question, yes, I am the one and only son of Lucifer. Why should I treat him differently or call him anything other than who he is? Dad never lies; he never lied to you either, detective. Dad is the Devil. But consider this for a moment: the actual Devil as described in your popular literature does not exist. That is a personification put together from I don't know how many myths, legends, and lies. It is an ideal image on which humanity can hang all their evil deeds and sins; the Devil made me do it, so I am innocent. What would you do if you suddenly had proof that Lucifer is indeed the Devil, and what would you do to me if you had that proof in your hands? Would you shoot Lucifer? Would you shoot me? And if so, why would you shoot us? How much evidence do you have that Lucifer is evil? How many children have you seen him eat? How many souls have you seen him steal? Have you seen him suck the blood out of a human being?"
Lucifer growled:
"Bloody hell, Alexander, I am not some blasted vampire!"
The Antichrist laughed:
"No, you like standing in front of a mirror, Dad. Way too much and way too long for that."
Before making his way to the blonde, who was obviously waiting for him, Alex said in conclusion:
"You're a detective, Miss Decker. Forget for a moment the whole supernatural angle when you think of the Devil. Where is the evidence? Where are your eyewitnesses? All that is doing the rounds about the Devil and about the Antichrist are rumors and stories from witnesses who were or are so far removed from the facts that it has become a game of telegram. I have heard from the daughter of the baker, who is friends with the son of the greengrocer, that the nephew of the butcher has it from a good source that his niece heard the daughter of the dentist at summer camp from a camp counselor who was friends with, and so on, and so on. If you ever had proof that Lucifer is the real Devil, what are you going to base it on? Those wild stories or on what you yourself see, hear, feel, and experience on a daily basis? Want to fact-check what I just said? Then why do you not read the bible? Is that not the big holy book in which all the truths of Christianity, God, and the Devil are written down? Was it not a colleague of yours who once said, If you exclude everything that is impossible, then whatever remains, no matter how impossible it seems, must be the truth..."
Chloe shook her head and said:
"That was Sherlock Holmes, a made-up character."
Alexander nodded:
"Exactly, and if a made-up character can make such a comment, wouldn't a real detective do well to heed those words a little better?"
With those words, the Antichrist turned and walked toward the blonde with a broad smile. He gently put an arm around her waist and whispered something in her ear, after which the young woman laughed out loud.