(Author note: Another near 10k words chapter! The other ones were shorter for a reason after all, gotta save the energy for the best.
I hope you all enjoy!)
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-Universe 666
The Los Angeles sun beat down mercilessly as Detective Chloe Decker pulled her unmarked police car into the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district.
She'd been following a lead on a series of ritualistic murders that had left the department baffled for weeks.
Three victims, all with similar markings carved into their skin, all found in locations with religious significance.
The latest tip had come from an anonymous source - coordinates to this warehouse with a cryptic message: "Where the fourth will fall."
Chloe checked her sidearm and badge, then glanced at the empty passenger seat beside her.
For once, Lucifer wasn't with her.
He'd called that morning with some excuse about needing a "personal day" - something about his wings being burned.
She'd rolled her eyes at that. Even after all this time, he maintained his elaborate devil persona.
"Props don't burn, Lucifer," she'd told him over the phone.
His response had been typically enigmatic. "Indeed they don't, Detective. Which should tell you something, shouldn't it?"
She'd dismissed it as usual and told him she could handle this lead on her own - not having told him about the case in her anger, because of his refusal to come.
Now, as she approached the dilapidated building with its broken windows and graffiti-covered walls, a small part of her wished he were here, to have back up, her partner, but not like she was that loved at the pricinct to have anyone else.
Not that she needed him - she was perfectly capable - but his uncanny ability to get suspects to reveal their desires had proven useful more than once.
The warehouse door creaked as she pushed it open, gun drawn but pointed downward.
"LAPD," she called out, her voice echoing in the vast, empty space. "Anyone here?"
Silence answered her. The interior was dim despite the bright day outside, dust motes dancing in the few shafts of sunlight that penetrated the grime-covered windows.
The air smelled of rust and mildew, with an underlying scent she couldn't quite place - something metallic and sharp.
Chloe moved cautiously through the space, her footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. Years of police work had honed her instincts, and something about this place felt wrong.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she ventured deeper into the warehouse.
In the center of the main floor, she found it - a circle drawn in what appeared to be dried blood, surrounded by candles that had burned down to stubs.
Inside the circle lay various objects: a doll with its eyes gouged out, several animal bones arranged in a pattern, and photographs of the three previous victims.
And one more photograph - of a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes.
A woman who looked disturbingly like Chloe herself.
Her heart rate accelerated as she knelt beside the circle, careful not to disturb anything. This was evidence, and clearly their killer had been planning another murder. She reached for her phone to call for backup.
The sound came from behind her - a soft footfall that wouldn't have been audible if not for the cavernous acoustics of the empty warehouse. Chloe spun, raising her weapon.
"LAPD! Show yourself!"
A figure emerged from the shadows - a tall, gaunt man with hollow eyes and a smile that didn't reach them.
His clothes were nondescript: jeans, a dark hoodie, work boots. Nothing remarkable except for the knife in his hand - a curved blade that gleamed dully in the dim light.
"Detective Decker," he said, his voice soft and almost gentle. "Right on time."
Chloe kept her gun trained on him. "Drop the weapon and put your hands where I can see them."
The man tilted his head, studying her with an expression of mild curiosity. "You know, I've been watching you for weeks. Following your investigation. Leaving little breadcrumbs. I was beginning to think you'd never figure it out."
"I said drop the weapon," Chloe repeated, her voice firm. "Now."
"The others were just practice," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Preparations for the main event. For you." He took a step forward.
"Stop right there!" Chloe commanded. "One more step and I will shoot."
He smiled wider. "No, you won't. Because you need to understand why. You need to know what makes this all necessary."
In one fluid motion, he flicked his wrist, sending something small and metallic flying toward her. Chloe fired instinctively, the gunshot deafening in the enclosed space. The man staggered backward, a bloom of red spreading across his chest.
But even as he fell, Chloe felt a sharp pain in her neck. Her hand flew up, fingers finding a small dart embedded in her skin. She pulled it out, staring at it in confusion as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
"What did you-" she began, but her tongue felt thick and uncooperative.
The man, despite his gunshot wound, was smiling up at her from where he'd fallen to his knees. "A gift," he whispered. "A key to open the door between worlds."
Chloe tried to reach for her phone, but her limbs wouldn't cooperate. The warehouse seemed to tilt around her as she stumbled, her gun clattering to the floor. The dizziness intensified, and darkness crept in at the edges of her vision.
"You'll see," the man's voice seemed to come from very far away. "You'll understand when you meet him..."
Chloe collapsed to her knees, then forward onto her hands. She could feel her heart racing too fast, her breathing becoming labored. Whatever drug he'd used was acting quickly - too quickly.
With the last of her strength, she reached for her fallen weapon, but her fingers found something else - the knife the man had been holding, now lying on the floor beside her.
As she touched it, a searing pain shot through her palm. She pulled her hand back to see a deep cut across it, blood welling up and spilling onto the concrete.
The warehouse began to spin, the floor seeming to open up beneath her.
As consciousness slipped away, Chloe's last thoughts were of Trixie - her smile, her laugh, the way she threw her arms around Chloe's neck when she came home from work.
I'm sorry, monkey. I'm so sorry...
Darkness claimed her.
Pain was her first sensation - a deep, throbbing agony that seemed to emanate from her very core. Chloe gasped, her eyes flying open as awareness returned in a rush of confusion and fear.
She was still in the warehouse, lying on her back in the center of the blood circle.
The candles around her, which had been burned down to stubs before, now blazed with unnatural brightness, their flames stretching upward like reaching fingers.
The killer lay a few feet away, motionless, a pool of blood spreading beneath him. She'd shot him - she remembered that much. But something was wrong. Her body felt... different. Heavy and yet weightless at the same time.
Chloe tried to sit up, but the movement sent a fresh wave of agony through her. She looked down at herself and froze.
Blood - her blood - covered the front of her shirt, spreading outward from a wound in her abdomen. The killer's knife protruded from her stomach, buried to the hilt.
"No," she whispered, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. "No, this isn't... I didn't..."
But the evidence was undeniable. Somehow, in her drugged state, she'd fallen on the knife - or perhaps the killer, with his last strength, had stabbed her.
It didn't matter now. What mattered was that she was bleeding out on the concrete floor of an abandoned warehouse, with no backup and no way to call for help.
Chloe's training kicked in through the haze of pain and shock. Apply pressure to the wound. Don't remove the knife - it's keeping some of the blood in. Try to reach her phone.
She fumbled weakly at her pocket, but her fingers were already growing numb, her movements uncoordinated. The phone slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor just out of reach.
"Help," she tried to call out, but her voice was barely a whisper. "Someone... help me..."
No one would hear her. No one would find her until it was too late.
As the reality of her situation sank in, Chloe's thoughts turned to Trixie. Her beautiful, bright daughter who would grow up without her mother. Who would have to face the world alone.
No, not alone, she corrected herself. She has Dan. And... Lucifer.
The thought of Lucifer brought a fresh wave of emotion. Despite his eccentricities, his inappropriate comments, his maddening habit of making everything about himself - he had become important to her.
More than a partner. More than a friend she realised as he life flashed before her eyes.
And she would never see him again.
"I should have told you," she whispered to the empty air. "I should have told you how I felt."
The pain was receding now, replaced by a cold numbness that spread through her limbs. Chloe knew what that meant - she was going into shock. Her time was running out.
So many things left undone. So many words left unsaid. She would never see Trixie grow up. Never solve another case. Never know if what she felt for Lucifer could have become something real.
And her father - would he be waiting for her, wherever she was going? The thought brought a small measure of comfort amidst the fear and regret.
The candles around her flared suddenly brighter, their flames turning an unnatural blue. The air in the warehouse seemed to thicken, pressing down on her with invisible weight.
Chloe's vision began to tunnel, darkness encroaching from all sides. Her last conscious thought was a desperate wish to hold her daughter one more time, to tell her how much she loved her.
Then, nothing.
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Dan Espinoza was halfway through paperwork on a separate case when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID - it was Lieutenant Monroe. Unusual for her to call directly.
"Espinoza," he answered.
"Dan," Monroe's voice was tight, controlled in a way that immediately set off alarm bells. "Where are you right now?"
"At the precinct, finishing reports. Why? What's happened?"
A pause. "It's Chloe."
Dan's heart stuttered in his chest. Despite their divorce, Chloe was still Trixie's mother, still someone he cared deeply about. "What about her? Is she okay?"
Another pause, longer this time. "No, Dan. She's not. There was an incident at a warehouse in the industrial district. She went to check out a lead on the ritualistic murder case."
Dan was already on his feet, grabbing his jacket. "How bad is it? Which hospital?"
"Dan..." Monroe's voice cracked slightly. "She didn't make it. By the time backup arrived, responding to shots fired, it was too late."
The world seemed to tilt beneath Dan's feet. He gripped the edge of his desk, knuckles turning white. "That's not... that can't be right. Chloe is - she's careful. She wouldn't-"
"I'm so sorry, Dan. We have officers at the scene now. The killer was also found dead - it appears she got a shot off before..." Monroe couldn't finish the sentence.
Dan's mind raced, trying to process the unthinkable. Chloe, gone. How would he tell Trixie? How could he possibly explain to their daughter that her mother wasn't coming home?
"Dan? Are you still there?"
He swallowed hard. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. I need to... Trixie is at Chloe's place with Maze. I need to go there."
"Of course. Take all the time you need. We'll handle everything here."
Dan ended the call, his movements mechanical as he gathered his things. The precinct around him continued its normal buzz of activity, detectives at their desks, phones ringing, life going on as if the world hadn't just shattered.
As he drove to Chloe's apartment, his mind replayed memories in rapid succession: Chloe on their wedding day, radiant and full of hope.
Chloe holding newborn Trixie, tears of joy streaming down her face. Chloe laughing at something ridiculous he'd said during one of their better moments.
Chloe.
By the time he parked outside her building, his eyes were red-rimmed, but he'd managed to compose himself somewhat. He needed to be strong for Trixie. He couldn't fall apart, not yet.
He knocked on the door, taking deep breaths to steady himself.
Maze opened it, her usual scowl in place. "Didn't expect you until later," she said by way of greeting.
Dan stepped inside, glancing around. "Where's Trixie?"
"In her room, drawing pictures of unicorns or whatever." Maze closed the door, then paused, studying him with narrowed eyes. "You look like shit. What happened?"
Before Dan could answer, Trixie came bounding out of her room, her face lighting up when she saw him.
"Daddy!" she exclaimed, throwing herself at him for a hug.
Dan caught her, holding her tightly - perhaps too tightly, because she squirmed after a moment.
"Dad, you're squishing me!"
He loosened his grip, forcing a smile. "Sorry, monkey. I just... I'm really happy to see you."
Trixie looked up at him, her smile fading as she noticed his expression. Even at her young age, she was perceptive - too perceptive sometimes.
"What's wrong? Why are you sad?"
Dan glanced at Maze, who was watching them with an unreadable expression. "Hey, Trix, why don't you go back to your room for a bit? I need to talk to Maze about something."
Trixie's brow furrowed. "Is it about Mom? Is she okay?"
The innocent question hit Dan like a physical blow. He swallowed hard. "Go to your room, baby. I'll come talk to you in a minute."
Reluctantly, Trixie obeyed, though she cast suspicious glances over her shoulder as she went.
Once her door closed, Dan turned to Maze. "Chloe's dead," he said, the words feeling like glass in his throat.
Maze's reaction was not what he expected. Rather than shock or grief, her expression hardened into something cold and dangerous.
"What happened?" she demanded.
"She was checking out a lead on the ritual killing case. At a warehouse. The killer was there and..." Dan's voice broke. "She was stabbed. By the time backup arrived, it was too late."
Maze was unnaturally still, her eyes fixed on some middle distance. "When?"
"About an hour ago. I came straight here after Monroe called."
"Where?"
"Some warehouse in the industrial district. I don't know exactly-"
"The address, Dan," Maze cut him off, her voice sharp. "I need the exact address."
Dan frowned. "Why? What are you going to do?"
"Just tell me."
He pulled out his phone, checking the text Monroe had sent with the details. "1435 Westmore Avenue. But Maze, there's nothing you can do. She's gone."
Maze was already moving, grabbing her leather jacket from the back of a chair. "Stay with the kid," she ordered. "Don't leave her alone."
"Where are you going? Maze, this isn't-"
"Just do it," she snapped, then her expression softened fractionally. "Please. She needs you right now."
Before Dan could argue further, Maze was out the door, leaving him alone in the apartment with his daughter and the impossible task of telling her that her mother was never coming home.
With a heavy heart, he walked to Trixie's door and knocked softly.
Maze waited until she was out of the building before breaking into a run, her movements supernaturally fast as she headed for her motorcycle.
Her face was a mask of controlled fury as she straddled the bike and roared off toward the industrial district.
"Stupid, stupid Decker," she muttered under her breath as she weaved through traffic. "Getting yourself killed when Lucifer's not around to save your ass."
But beneath the anger was something else - something Maze wasn't accustomed to feeling. Concern. Not just for how Lucifer would react when he found out his precious detective was dead, but for Decker herself.
And for the child.
Maze had never intended to care about humans. They were weak, fragile, their lives over in the blink of an eye by demon standards.
But somehow, against all her better judgment, she'd developed a... fondness for Trixie. The kid was fearless, honest, and unafraid of Maze's demonic nature - even if she thought it was just a game.
And now Trixie had lost her mother. Because Chloe had gone to investigate a lead alone, while Lucifer was dealing with his wing situation.
Maze pushed the motorcycle faster, ignoring traffic laws as she sped toward the warehouse. She didn't know what she hoped to find there.
Chloe was dead - human deaths were usually pretty final. But something about this felt wrong. The ritualistic nature of the killings, the timing of it all...
When she arrived at the warehouse, the place was crawling with police.
Yellow crime scene tape cordoned off the entrance, and uniformed officers stood guard. Maze parked her bike out of sight and approached on foot, sticking to the shadows.
She circled the building, looking for a way in that wouldn't attract attention. A broken window on the second floor offered access. With inhuman agility, she scaled the wall and slipped inside.
The upper level of the warehouse was empty, dust and debris covering the floor. Maze moved silently to the stairwell, following the sounds of police activity below. She needed to see for herself what had happened.
From her vantage point on the stairs, she could see the scene clearly. The blood circle. The ritual implements. The body of a man with a gunshot wound to the chest.
And Chloe - or rather, where Chloe had been. Her body had already been removed, but the pool of blood remained, along with the chalk outline drawn by forensics.
Maze's enhanced senses picked up details human investigators would miss. The circle wasn't just drawn in blood - it contained other elements. Sulfur. Grave dirt. Crushed bones. Ingredients for opening doorways to places humans shouldn't go.
And there was something else - a scent so faint that even she almost missed it. Brimstone. The unmistakable smell of Hell.
"Shit," Maze breathed, realization dawning. This hadn't been just a murder. It had been a ritual - one designed to send souls directly to Hell, bypassing the normal judgment process.
Which meant Chloe was in Hell right now.
Maze retreated back up the stairs, her mind racing. Lucifer needed to know immediately. He was the only one who could retrieve Chloe's soul before it became permanently trapped.
But as she reached for her phone, she hesitated. Lucifer's wings were burned - that's why he hadn't been with Chloe today.
He'd tried to downplay it when he'd called Maze earlier, but she knew him well enough to hear the pain beneath his casual tone. He couldn't go to Hell in his current condition.
Which left only one option.
Maze reached into her pocket, her fingers closing around a small box she'd carried for years.
Inside were three small feathers - Lucifer's feathers, which she'd secretly kept after helping him cut off his wings all those years ago.
She'd told herself they were insurance, a way back to Hell if she ever needed it.
She never thought she'd use them for this.
Maze made her decision. She couldn't leave Trixie motherless. Couldn't face Lucifer's grief and rage if Chloe was lost forever.
And - though she'd never admit it out loud - she couldn't abandon Decker to the torments of Hell when the detective didn't truly deserve to be there.
She left the warehouse the same way she'd entered and sped back toward Chloe's apartment. She needed to check on Trixie once more before she went.
When she arrived, she could hear Dan's gentle voice through the door, explaining to Trixie that her mother had been hurt very badly and wouldn't be coming home.
The child's sobs tore through the air, a sound of pure grief that made something twist uncomfortably in Maze's chest.
She entered quietly, moving to Trixie's bedroom doorway. Dan was holding the girl as she cried, his own tears falling into her hair. He looked up when Maze appeared, his expression questioning.
Maze gestured for him to come out. After gently disentangling himself from Trixie with promises to return in a moment, Dan joined her in the living room.
"What did you find out?" he asked, voice hoarse.
"Nothing important," Maze lied smoothly. "Listen, I need to go for a while. Take care of her, okay? Don't leave her alone."
Dan frowned. "Where are you going? Maze, this isn't the time to-"
"Trust me," she cut him off. "This is important. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Before he could argue further, Maze went to Trixie's doorway. The child was curled up on her bed, clutching her stuffed animals, her small face streaked with tears.
"Hey, little human," Maze said softly. "I need to go away for a bit. But I'll be back, okay? You stay with your dad."
Trixie looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "Are you going to find Mom? Dad says she's gone, but maybe she's just lost. Maybe you can find her and bring her back."
The innocent hope in her voice nearly broke something in Maze. "I'm going to try," she said, the words feeling strange on her tongue. She wasn't used to making promises, especially ones she wasn't sure she could keep.
"Really?" Trixie sat up, wiping at her tears.
"Really. But you have to be brave while I'm gone. Can you do that?"
Trixie nodded solemnly. "I can be brave."
"Good." Maze hesitated, then awkwardly patted the child's head. "See you soon, small human."
She left quickly after that, not wanting to drag out the goodbyes. Dan called after her, but she ignored him, her mind already focused on what lay ahead.
Once outside, Maze found a secluded alley several blocks away. She took out the box containing Lucifer's feathers, handling them with uncharacteristic reverence.
Each was about three inches long, gleaming with an inner light that had never dimmed despite years kept hidden away.
Maze knew the ritual - she'd seen Lucifer use his feathers to open portals between realms many times.
As his right hand, his most trusted demon, she was one of the few beings who could channel their power - the power trusting her as he trusts her, though it would burn the feather in the process.
She placed one feather on the ground and drew a circle around it with her knife, murmuring words in an ancient language that predated human civilization.
The feather began to glow brighter, its light expanding until it consumed the circle entirely.
Flames erupted from the ground - not ordinary fire, but the cold, clean fire of celestial power. They rose higher, forming a doorway of light and heat.
Maze took a deep breath. "Hang on, Decker," she muttered. "I'm coming to get your stupid ass."
With that, she stepped into the flames and vanished.
--------------------------
Chloe Decker opened her eyes to darkness.
For a moment, she thought she was still in the warehouse, that perhaps she had only lost consciousness. But as her vision adjusted, she realized she was somewhere else entirely.
She was standing on a vast plain under a blood-red sky. The ground beneath her feet was black ash that swirled with every step.
In the distance, mountains rose like jagged teeth against the horizon, and what looked like lightning flashed among them, though no thunder followed.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice small in the immense emptiness. "Is anyone there?"
No answer came. Chloe looked down at herself, surprised to find she was wearing a simple white dress that seemed to glow faintly in the darkness.
Her police uniform, her badge, her gun - all gone. But strangest of all, there was no wound in her abdomen. No blood. No pain.
"Am I dead?" she whispered to herself. "Is this... Heaven?"
A harsh laugh came from behind her.
Chloe spun around to see a figure emerging from the swirling ash - a creature that might once have been human but was now twisted into something grotesque.
Its skin was gray and mottled, its eyes sunken pits of darkness.
"Heaven?" it rasped, its voice like stones grinding together. "Oh, no, little soul. This is most definitely not Heaven."
Chloe backed away, her instincts screaming danger. "What is this place, then? Who are you?"
The creature grinned, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. "This is Hell, human. And you are its newest resident."
"Hell?" Chloe repeated, disbelief warring with growing horror. "That's not possible. Hell isn't real. It's just a-"
"A metaphor? A fairy tale to scare children?" The creature laughed again. "Tell that to the millions of souls who burn here for eternity. Tell that to the demons who feast on their guilt and fear."
It took a step toward her, its movements jerky and unnatural. "You should be in a cell already, reliving your guilt on endless loop. But something about you is... different. You glow with a light that keeps the worst at bay. For now."
Chloe continued backing away, her mind racing. This couldn't be real. It had to be a hallucination, some effect of the drug the killer had used on her.
Or perhaps this was what the brain experienced in its final moments - a dream so vivid it seemed real.
"Lucifer," she said suddenly, grasping at the connection. "If this is Hell, then Lucifer-"
"The King?" The creature tilted its head. "Gone. Abandoned his throne. Left us all to rot while he plays at being human.
But don't worry - there are plenty of others eager to claim what's theirs. Including fresh souls like yours."
It lunged suddenly, fingers curved into claws. Chloe reacted instinctively, diving to the side. She rolled and came up running, her bare feet pounding against the ashen ground.
Behind her, she could hear the creature howling, calling to others of its kind. Soon, more voices joined the chorus - hungry, eager voices that promised pain and torment.
Chloe ran blindly, her only thought to put distance between herself and her pursuers.
The landscape around her shifted and changed, the plain giving way to twisted forests of blackened trees, then to fields of what looked like glass shards that cut at her feet.
Still she ran, driven by a primal fear deeper than anything she'd experienced in life. This wasn't just fear for her life - it was fear for her very soul.
Eventually, she found herself in what appeared to be the ruins of a city.
Crumbling buildings rose around her, their architecture a nightmarish blend of Gothic and something alien that hurt her eyes to look at directly.
The streets were empty of people but littered with objects that seemed to move when she wasn't looking directly at them.
Chloe ducked into one of the buildings, hoping to hide from her pursuers. Inside, it was eerily quiet, the air thick with dust and the smell of decay. She moved deeper into the structure, looking for a place to catch her breath and think.
What she found instead was a mirror - a full-length, ornate thing that seemed out of place among the ruins.
Her reflection stared back at her, pale and frightened, the white dress gleaming with that strange inner light.
But there was something else in the reflection - a shadow that stood behind her, though when Chloe spun around, nothing was there. When she looked back at the mirror, the shadow remained, growing more distinct by the second.
It took the form of a man - tall, elegantly dressed, with a face that was both beautiful and terrible.
"Lucifer?" Chloe whispered, recognition dawning.
The reflection smiled, but it wasn't Lucifer's familiar, mischievous grin. This was something colder, crueler.
"Not quite," the reflection said, its voice echoing strangely. "But close enough for our purposes."
The shadow reached out, its hand passing through the mirror as if it were water. Chloe stumbled backward, but not before those cold fingers brushed against her cheek.
"Such guilt you carry," the shadow murmured. "Such fear. Such regret. Hell will feast well on you, Chloe Decker."
Chloe turned and fled, bursting back out into the ruined streets. But the city had changed while she was inside - or perhaps it had never been a city at all.
Now she found herself in a vast cavern, its ceiling lost in darkness, its walls lined with countless doors.
Each door was different - some wood, some metal, some materials she couldn't identify. And from behind each came sounds: weeping, screaming, pleading.
"The cells," came a voice from behind her. Chloe whirled to see the first creature she'd encountered, now joined by several others.
They formed a loose circle around her, cutting off any escape. "Where souls relive their greatest guilt for eternity. One of them is waiting just for you."
"No," Chloe said, backing away until she hit the wall of doors. "I don't belong here. I'm not - I'm not evil. I'm not a bad person."
"Good, evil," one of the creatures mocked. "Such human concepts. Here, only guilt matters. And you, Detective, are drowning in it."
They were right, Chloe realized with growing horror. Guilt had been her constant companion in life - guilt over her failed marriage, guilt over not spending enough time with Trixie, guilt over the cases she couldn't solve, the victims she couldn't save.
And now, guilt over leaving her daughter motherless. Over dying alone in that warehouse, with so many things left unsaid.
The creatures advanced, their twisted forms blocking what little light existed in this place.
Chloe pressed herself against the wall of doors, her hand inadvertently touching one of them - a simple wooden door with a tarnished brass knob.
The door swung open at her touch, revealing a swirling vortex of memory and regret.
Chloe caught glimpses of her own life - Trixie crying as she left for work, Dan's face twisted with hurt during one of their arguments, her father's funeral, Lucifer looking at her with those dark, unfathomable eyes...
The vortex began to pull at her, drawing her toward the endless loop of her own guilt. Chloe resisted, clinging to the doorframe, but the pull was relentless, growing stronger by the second.
"No!" she cried out. "Please! I don't want this!"
"What we want is irrelevant," one of the creatures said, its voice almost gentle despite its monstrous appearance. "Hell is what we deserve."
Just as Chloe's grip began to fail, a howl echoed through the cavern - not the hungry cry of the creatures, but something deeper, different. A sound that made the very air vibrate with its power.
The creatures scattered, disappearing into the shadows with surprising speed. Chloe clung to the doorframe, still fighting the pull of the cell, as a new figure appeared at the far end of the cavern.
It was massive - a beast that stood taller than a horse, its form reminiscent of a wolf or lion but composed entirely of white light.
Its eyes burned with blue-white fire, and when it moved, it seemed to flow rather than walk, as if it wasn't entirely bound by physical laws.
The beast approached Chloe, its burning gaze fixed on her. She should have been terrified - this creature was clearly more powerful than the others - but something about it felt... different. Less malevolent. Almost protective.
It reached her just as her grip on the doorframe finally failed.
As she began to fall into the vortex of her own guilt, the beast lunged forward, its jaws closing gently but firmly around the back of her dress.
With a powerful jerk, it pulled her free of the cell's grasp and set her down safely on the cavern floor.
The door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing like a gunshot.
Chloe stared up at the beast, trembling but no longer afraid. "Thank you," she whispered.
The beast studied her for a long moment, its fiery eyes seeming to look through her rather than at her. Then, to her astonishment, it spoke - its voice deep and resonant, yet somehow gentle.
"You do not belong here, mortal," it said. "You carry the light of the Lightbringer upon you."
"The light of...?" Chloe shook her head, confused. "I don't understand."
The beast's form rippled, shifting and contracting until it stood before her in a different shape - still composed of white light, but now roughly humanoid, with features that reminded her of classical statues: noble, serene, timeless.
"You bear the mark of Lucifer Morningstar," the being said. "His light protects you, even here in the depths of Hell. Yet you are not dead by his hand, nor are you one of his claimed. How is this possible?"
Chloe's mind reeled. Lucifer. Not just a man with delusions, but actually... "Lucifer is really the Devil?" she asked, the words feeling strange on her tongue.
The being tilted its head. "He is the Lightbringer. The Morningstar. Once ruler of this realm, though he has abdicated his throne. And you..."
It leaned closer, studying her with those burning eyes. "You are important to him. His light clings to you, mingled with something else. Something... divine."
Before Chloe could process this, the sound of distant howls reached them - different from the creatures that had pursued her earlier. These were deeper, more powerful.
"We must go," the being said, its voice urgent. "The hounds of Hell approach. They sense your presence - a living soul where only the dead should dwell."
"Living?" Chloe repeated, confusion momentarily overriding her fear. "But I was stabbed. I died in that warehouse."
The being shook its head, its form rippling with the movement. "Your body may have failed, but your soul was diverted here before true death could claim you.
The ritual that killed you was designed to bypass the natural order - to send souls directly to Hell regardless of their worthiness."
It extended a hand of pure light. "Come. I will take you to safety. To the Beloved."
"The Beloved?" Chloe asked, hesitantly placing her hand in the creature's. Despite its appearance of flames, its touch was cool and solid.
"One of the rulers in Lucifer's absence. She who carries the light of the new Lightbringer."
Before Chloe could ask what that meant, the being's form shifted again, returning to the massive beast of light. It lowered itself, clearly indicating she should climb onto its back.
With no better options, Chloe complied, gripping the creature's glowing mane as it rose.
The moment she was secure, it launched into motion - not quite running, not quite flying, but a strange combination of both that sent them hurtling through the cavern faster than should have been possible.
They burst out into the open, back under that blood-red sky, but now the landscape was different.
Mountains rose in the distance, their peaks disappearing into roiling clouds.
Structures dotted the plains - some resembling medieval fortresses, others more like organic growths than buildings.
And everywhere, there were souls. Some wandered aimlessly, their expressions vacant and lost.
Others huddled in groups, as if seeking safety in numbers. Many bore visible marks of torment - wounds that never healed, flesh that constantly burned but was never consumed.
The beast avoided these gatherings, keeping to the shadows and less traveled paths.
They moved for what felt like hours, the landscape gradually changing around them. The red sky darkened to near-black, the air growing colder and thinner.
Finally, they crested a rise, and Chloe gasped at what lay before them.
A massive fortress rose from the plain, its walls gleaming white in stark contrast to the darkness surrounding it.
Unlike the other structures she'd seen, this one seemed... whole.
Untainted by the corruption of Hell.
Light emanated from its towers, not the sickly glow of brimstone but something purer, more radiant.
"The Palace of Light," the beast told her, its pace slowing as they approached. "Once the ninth circle of Hell, now the seat of the Beloved's power."
Guards lined the walls - some human in appearance, others clearly not.
All bore weapons that glowed with the same white light as the beast beneath her. They straightened to attention as Chloe and her guide approached.
"Marchosias returns!" one called out, and the name rippled through the ranks like a wave.
The beast - Marchosias - carried her through the massive gates, which swung open at their approach. Inside, the fortress was even more impressive.
The architecture reminded Chloe of Gothic cathedrals she'd seen in Europe, all soaring arches and intricate stonework, but with an otherworldly quality.
Souls moved about purposefully, their expressions calm and focused rather than tormented.
Many wore simple white garments similar to Chloe's dress, though others were clad in what appeared to be armor or uniforms of various designs.
Marchosias finally came to a stop in a vast courtyard at the center of the fortress. As Chloe slid from his back, his form shifted once more, returning to the humanoid shape of light.
"Wait here," he instructed. "I must inform the Beloved of your arrival."
Before he could leave, Chloe grabbed his arm - or tried to. Her hand passed partially through his luminous form, though there was enough substance to halt his movement.
"Please," she said, "I still don't understand what's happening. You said I'm not really dead? That this is Hell? That Lucifer-" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.
Marchosias regarded her with those burning eyes. "Yes to all your questions, mortal. You are in Hell, though not yet truly dead.
Lucifer Morningstar is indeed the Devil, the former ruler of this realm. And you..." He tilted his head, studying her. "You carry his mark, though you are not his consort. Curious."
"His mark? Consort? I don't-"
"Marchosias!" A new voice interrupted them - female, authoritative. "You've returned. Was your patrol successful?"
They turned to see a woman approaching across the courtyard.
She was striking - tall and slender, with dark hair that fell past her shoulders and eyes that held the same inner light as Marchosias, though less intensely.
She wore a flowing white gown that seemed to shimmer with each movement, and a simple silver circlet rested on her brow.
"Beloved," Marchosias bowed deeply. "I found this mortal soul wandering near the Cells of Lamentation. She bears the light of the Lightbringer - the original Lightbringer."
The woman's eyes widened as she took in Chloe. "Lucifer's light? Impossible. The records state that he hasn't marked a soul in eons."
She moved closer, circling Chloe with an expression of intense curiosity. "Yet I see it clearly. His essence clings to you, protecting you from the worst of Hell's influence."
She stopped directly in front of Chloe, "Who are you to bear such a gift?"
Chloe straightened, drawing on her detective's training to maintain composure in this impossible situation. "My name is Chloe Decker. I'm a detective with the LAPD. And I don't know what you mean about bearing Lucifer's light. He's my... colleague. My partner. That's all."
The woman - the Beloved - laughed, the sound surprisingly warm in this cold place. "A colleague? A partner? Oh, you poor thing. You really don't know, do you?"
Before Chloe could respond, Marchosias spoke again. "Beloved, there's more. She's not truly dead. Her soul was diverted here by ritual means before death could fully claim her."
The Beloved's expression sharpened. "A living soul in Hell? That hasn't happened since..." She trailed off, then turned back to Chloe. "Come with me. Both of you. This requires privacy."
She led them through the fortress, up winding staircases and along corridors that seemed to shift and change as they walked. Souls and demons alike bowed as they passed, murmuring "Beloved" with reverence.
Finally, they reached what appeared to be a throne room - a vast chamber with soaring ceilings and walls lined with tapestries depicting scenes Chloe couldn't quite comprehend. At the far end stood a dais with two thrones.
The smaller throne, clearly designed for human proportions, sat on the lower step of the dais. It was ornate but modest compared to what loomed behind it.
The second throne rose to an impossible height, its upper reaches lost in shadow.
It appeared to be carved from a single massive tree, its trunk forming the seat while branches reached upward like grasping fingers.
The wood was pure white, glowing with the same light that emanated from Marchosias and the Beloved.
"The Throne of Hell," Marchosias murmured, seeing Chloe's awestruck expression. "Also known as the Axis Mundi - the center point of infernal reality.
If an angel acknowledged by Hell were to sit upon it, they would have absolute authority over this realm. But only Lucifer has ever held that honor, and perhaps someday, Samael."
The Beloved took her seat on the smaller throne, gesturing for Chloe to approach. "Now, Detective Decker. Tell me how you came to be in Hell with Lucifer's light upon your soul."
Chloe, still struggling to process everything she'd seen and heard, recounted what she remembered - the warehouse, the ritual circle, the killer, the knife, the darkness that had claimed her.
As she spoke, the Beloved's expression grew increasingly troubled. "A sacrificial ritual," she murmured when Chloe had finished. "Designed to send souls directly to Hell, bypassing judgment. But why target you specifically?"
"I don't know," Chloe admitted. "The killer said something about me being 'the main event,' that the others were just practice. He said I needed to understand why it was necessary."
The Beloved exchanged a glance with Marchosias. "The why is clear enough. You bear Lucifer's mark. Someone wanted to hurt him through you."
"That's ridiculous," Chloe protested. "Lucifer and I are just-"
"Partners. Yes, you mentioned that." The Beloved's tone was gently mocking. "Yet his light protects you even here, in the depths of Hell.
That doesn't happen by accident, Detective. Lucifer has claimed you in some way, whether you recognize it or not."
Chloe fell silent, her mind racing. If what they were saying was true - if Lucifer really was the Devil, if his "metaphors" had been literal all along - then everything she thought she knew had been a lie.
The man she'd worked with for months, argued with, laughed with, even begun to care for... was the literal Devil.
"I need to go home," she said suddenly, the full impact of her situation hitting her. "My daughter - she needs me. I can't be... I can't be dead. I can't be in Hell."
The Beloved's expression softened. "I understand your distress. And as it happens, you're in luck. Since you're not truly dead yet, your soul could potentially return to your body - if it hasn't been too long in the mortal realm."
Hope surged through Chloe. "You can send me back?"
"Not I," the Beloved clarified. "The boundaries between realms are not mine to command. But there may be another way."
Before she could elaborate, a commotion erupted outside the throne room. Shouts echoed down the corridor, followed by the sound of fighting.
Marchosias moved swiftly to position himself between the Beloved and the doors, his form shifting back to the massive beast of light. "Stay behind me," he growled.
The doors burst open with explosive force, reduced to splinters that rained across the marble floor. Through the dust and debris strode a figure Chloe recognized immediately.
"Maze?!"
The demon looked exactly as she did on Earth - leather-clad, fierce, and radiating dangerous energy.
But here, in Hell, there was something more to her, something that had been muted in the mortal realm.
Her eyes gleamed with an inner fire, and the scars on her face seemed to shift and move of their own accord.
She was covered in blood - some of it her own, judging by the cuts and gashes visible on her arms and face, but most of it clearly belonging to whatever opponents she'd faced to reach this chamber.
"Decker," Maze acknowledged, her gaze flicking briefly to Chloe before returning to Marchosias and the Beloved. "Step away from her. Now."
Marchosias growled, a sound that made the very air vibrate. "You dare, Mazikeen of the Lilim? You dare enter the Beloved's sanctum uninvited, bearing steel and threats?"
Maze twirled her demon blades, her lips curving in a dangerous smile. "I dare a lot of things. Including gutting anyone who stands between me and what I came for."
The Beloved raised a hand, halting Marchosias as he tensed to spring. "Peace, old friend. Let us hear what Lucifer's right hand has to say."
She turned her attention to Maze. "You're a long way from Los Angeles, Mazikeen. What brings the consort of the former king back to Hell?"
"Consort?" Chloe repeated, the word finally registering. "Maze is Lucifer's...?"
"Wife, basically," Maze said with a casual shrug, never taking her eyes off the potential threats. "In your human terms. Though it's a bit more complicated than that."
Chloe felt as if the floor had dropped out from under her. Lucifer and Maze were married? All this time?
"You didn't answer my question," the Beloved pressed. "Why are you here?"
Maze's expression hardened. "I'm here for Decker. The kid needs her mom, and Lucifer would burn this place to ash if he knew she was down here. So I'm taking her back before he finds out and goes nuclear."
The Beloved studied Maze with newfound interest. "You came for her... of your own accord? Not on Lucifer's orders?"
"Lucifer doesn't know yet," Maze admitted. "He was dealing with... other issues when it happened. I acted on my own."
"Fascinating," the Beloved murmured. "The legendary Mazikeen, acting out of... what? Compassion? Loyalty to a human? How you've changed since leaving Hell."
Maze bristled. "Are we doing this the easy way or the hard way? Because I've already carved through about thirty of your soldiers, and I'm just getting warmed up."
Marchosias growled again, his form growing larger, brighter. "You will show respect to the Beloved, demon, or I will teach it to you with pain."
"Enough," the Beloved commanded, rising from her throne. "There's no need for further bloodshed. Mazikeen came for a worthy purpose, however crudely executed." She turned to Chloe. "It seems your way home has arrived, Detective Decker."
Relief washed over Chloe, though it was tempered by the shock of everything she'd learned. "Thank you," she said, moving to join Maze. "For saving me from those... things. For explaining what I could understand of all this."
The Beloved smiled, the expression transforming her face into something truly beautiful. "It was my pleasure. Not often do I get to converse with someone who knows Lucifer in his current life. It's... illuminating."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice so only Chloe could hear. "He from what I've heard was always drawn to unique souls. Special souls. I see why he favors you."
Before Chloe could respond, the Beloved raised her voice again, addressing Maze. "You may take her, Mazikeen of the Lilim. But I would ask a favor in return."
Maze's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What kind of favor?"
"A message," the Beloved said simply. "For Samael. Tell him that Hell awaits its rightful king. Tell him that I have prepared his kingdom, that I have fought in his name. Tell him..."
Her voice softened, taking on an almost reverent quality. "Tell him that I am his, body and soul, whenever he chooses to claim me."
Maze's eyebrows shot up. "Samael? You mean-"
"The new Lightbringer, yes," the Beloved confirmed. "Lucifer's successor. The one whose light I bear, as this one bears Lucifer's." She gestured to Chloe.
"And who exactly are you?" Maze demanded. "How do you know about Samael?"
The Beloved's smile widened, becoming almost predatory in its intensity. "I am Betty. Once a mortal soul rejected by Heaven, now the Beloved of Hell.
Samael's light saved me, guided me, gave me purpose. I have conquered in his name, unified what I could of Hell's fractured realms. All for him."
Her eyes took on a fervent gleam that sent a chill down Chloe's spine. "I don't care if he has other wives, other consorts. I will be one of them. I will serve him, please him, worship him in all ways. Tell him this. Tell him his kingdom and his queen await."
Maze stared at her for a long moment, then shook her head. "You're insane," she said bluntly, but then a smirk bloomed on her face. "I like you. Fine, I'll deliver your message, if it means we can leave without any more fighting."
"Excellent." Betty returned to her throne, seating herself.
"Marchosias will escort you to the thinning - the place where the barrier between Hell and the mortal realm is weakest. From there, you can use whatever means you brought to return home."
Maze nodded curtly, then turned to Chloe. "Let's go, Decker. This place gives me the creeps, and that's saying something."
As they followed Marchosias from the throne room, Chloe's mind whirled with questions. "Maze," she whispered, "is it all true? Lucifer is really...?"
"The Devil? Yeah." Maze glanced at her, her expression unreadable. "You okay with that?"
"I don't know," Chloe admitted. "It's a lot to process. And you're his..."
"Consort. Right hand. Chief torturer. Personal bodyguard." Maze shrugged. "Take your pick."
"And this Samael person? The 'new Lightbringer'?"
Maze's expression darkened. "That's a whole other mess. One problem at a time, Decker."
They walked in silence after that, following Marchosias through the twisting corridors of the fortress and out into the hellish landscape beyond.
The journey seemed shorter this time, as if Hell itself was eager to be rid of them.
Finally, they reached what appeared to be an ordinary cave entrance set into the side of a cliff. The air around it shimmered strangely, like heat waves rising from hot asphalt.
"The thinning," Marchosias announced. "The barrier is weakest here. Your... method of return should work most effectively from this point."
Maze nodded, reaching into her pocket to withdraw a small object that gleamed with golden light - a feather, Chloe realized.
A feather that radiated the same warmth she'd felt from Lucifer in rare, unguarded moments.
"Is that...?" she began.
"One of Lucifer's feathers, yeah," Maze confirmed. "I've got two left - one to get us back to our universe, one to restore your life. Don't make me regret using them on you, Decker."
Chloe stared at the feather in wonder. "Lucifer has wings? Actual angel wings?"
Maze rolled her eyes. "Seriously? That's your takeaway from all this? Yes, he has wings. Or had them, before he cut them off. Then got them back. Then burned them. It's complicated."
She turned to Marchosias. "We're good from here. Tell your boss I'll deliver her message, but I'm not making any promises about how it'll be received."
Marchosias nodded, his burning gaze shifting to Chloe. "Farewell, mortal. May you find your way home safely.
And perhaps, when you return to the mortal realm, you might look more kindly upon the Devil. Though he has not been the same since the Fall, he is still my brother. He has suffered more than you know."
With that cryptic statement, he turned and loped away, his form shifting back to the massive beast as he disappeared into the hellish landscape.
Maze held out the feather, which began to glow brighter in her hand. "Ready, Decker? This is gonna feel weird."
Chloe took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Wait. Before we go... Maze, I need to know. Will I remember all this when we get back? Or will it be like a dream?"
"You'll remember," Maze said, her expression unusually serious. "Every detail. That's part of the deal.
So before we do this, I need your word that you won't freak out and run off when we get back. No disappearing, no avoiding Lucifer, no doing anything stupid because you can't handle the truth."
"I-" Chloe hesitated, the full weight of what she'd learned pressing down on her. Lucifer was the Devil. Actual Satan.
The being who had supposedly tempted Eve, ruled Hell, rebelled against God Himself. And she had been working with him, laughing with him, starting to care for him...
But she had also seen Hell firsthand now. Seen the torment, the darkness, the endless suffering.
And Lucifer had left it all behind. Had chosen Earth, chosen humanity. Chosen, in some way she didn't fully understand, her.
"I promise," she said finally. "I won't run. I'll... try to understand."
Maze studied her face, searching for any sign of deception. Finding none, she nodded. "Good enough. Now hold onto me. This ride gets bumpy."
Chloe gripped Maze's arm as the demon began to chant in a language that sounded ancient and somehow wrong to human ears.
The feather in her hand burst into brilliant golden flame, its light expanding outward to envelop them both.
The last thing Chloe saw before the light consumed her vision was the blood-red sky of Hell, stretching endlessly above them like a sea of suffering.
Then there was only the light of the Morningstar, burning away the darkness, carrying them home.
-----------------------
In Universe 666, the light faded, leaving Chloe and Maze standing in what appeared to be Chloe's bedroom. Chloe looked down at herself, surprised to find she was still wearing the white dress from Hell rather than her police uniform.
"Am I really back?" she asked, her voice shaky. "Am I alive?"
Maze held up the second feather, which glowed even brighter than the first had. "Not yet. Your body's at the morgue, probably. This will fix that. It'll restore your soul to your body, heal the fatal wound, make it like you never died."
"And what about those who think I'm dead? Dan, Trixie, the department?"
"Time works differently in Hell," Maze explained. "We've only been gone about an hour in Earth time.
Lucifer and me will handle it, Lucifer is an archangel, can manipulate memories and all that, hates doing it, so maybe gotta bring Amenadiel in to do it. Just don't worry about it.
They'll know you were injured, but not that you died. The official story will be that you were found wounded but alive."
She held out the feather. "Ready?"
Chloe took a deep breath, deciding she'll ask about that memory thing later, then nodded. "Thank you, Maze. For coming for me. For bringing me back."
Maze's expression was uncharacteristically soft for a brief moment. "Yeah, well. The kid needs her mom. And Lucifer..."
She trailed off, then shrugged. "Let's just say I've seen what happens when he really loses it. Not something I want to deal with again."
She began the chant once more, the feather blazing with celestial fire in her hand. As the light surrounded Chloe, she felt a strange pulling sensation, as if her very essence was being stretched thin.
"Maze!" she called out, suddenly afraid. "How does-"
But the light consumed her before she could finish the question. It was everywhere, inside her, around her, filling her vision until there was nothing else.
Warmth spread through her, chasing away the cold emptiness she hadn't even realized she'd been feeling.
And then, darkness.
------------------------
The next thing Chloe knew, she was gasping for breath, her eyes flying open to bright fluorescent lights and the sterile smell of disinfectant.
She was lying on something cold and hard - a metal examination table. The morgue, she realized with a jolt of horror.
She sat up, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. Her police uniform had been replaced with a standard medical examiner's sheet, which she clutched to her chest as she looked around wildly.
The morgue was empty save for her. No attendants, no other bodies, just the quiet hum of refrigeration units and the distant sound of a clock ticking.
Chloe looked down at herself, at the smooth, unmarked skin of her abdomen where the knife wound should have been. She was alive. She was whole. She was home.
But everything had changed. The world she thought she knew had been torn apart and reassembled into something unrecognizable.
Lucifer was the Devil. Hell was real. Heaven, presumably, was too. And she had died and returned - a miracle that defied all she knew.
As the reality of her situation sank in, Chloe made a decision. She wouldn't run. She wouldn't hide. She would face this new reality head-on, with the same determination she brought to every case, every challenge.
She would talk to Lucifer. She would understand. She would find the truth, as she always had.
But first, she needed to see her daughter. Needed to hold Trixie in her arms and reassure herself that some things, at least, remained constant.
With that thought firmly in mind, Chloe slipped off the examination table and began looking for something to wear.
She had promises to keep - to Maze, to herself, and to the truth she had always sought.
The truth that, it seemed, had been staring her in the face all along.
-------------------
(Author note: So, Chloe died. Went to Hell, is back, now knows the truth.
They also met Betty, who told Mazikeen to tell Samael about what's been going on in Hell. So, who knows, maybe that will make Lucifer finally decide to see his baby bro.
Also, Maze's development, since she is Lucifer's consort, and is actually acknowledged as such here, she doesn't have that jealousy she had in season 1,
and the whole fall out with Lucifer, since of course, she didn't sleep with Amenadiel, because she is with Lucifer unlike in the show where they were only servant and king.
So, she's connected a bit more with emotions because of it, as well as thereby sooner with Chloe and Beatrice.
Well, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, I gotta go eat,
But before I forget, who do you think is stupid enough to have done this to Chloe? I'll give a hint, you shouldn't only think of Biblical side of figures, though that doesn't mean no biblical figure was involved.
See you all later,
Bye!)