The cool night air swept through the empty street as Lucifer strolled down the sidewalk, his mind lost in thought. The city lights cast shadows, and the usual hum of Los Angeles life filled the air. He was in no particular rush—his penthouse waiting for him up high, just a few blocks away. But then, a loud voice rang out, breaking his thoughts.
"Give me the damn cash, old man!"
Lucifer's sharp senses caught the unmistakable sound of a struggle. A man in a black hoodie was pointing a gun at an older gentleman, the terrified victim shaking and pleading. Lucifer's steps slowed, his gaze narrowing as the situation unfolded before him. It wasn't his problem, not really—but that didn't stop him from taking an interest.
"Please, don't do this. Take what you want—just don't shoot me!" the old man cried, his hands raised in surrender.
The robber snarled, his finger tightening around the trigger. "You think I care about your life? Give me the damn money!"
He fired a shot. The old man fell, a blood-curdling scream escaping his lips as the bullet found its mark.
Lucifer's heart sped up as he stepped forward, ready to intervene. He wasn't going to let this man die, not when he could stop it. He walked with casual confidence, the sound of his boots on the pavement echoing loudly in the silent night.
The robber, seeing Lucifer approach, panicked. He swung the gun toward Lucifer, eyes wide with fear. He fired.
The bullet tore through the air, and time seemed to slow for a moment. But as it reached Lucifer, the supernatural power within him reacted. The bullet struck his chest, but instead of piercing through flesh, it crumpled against his suit—flattened, like paper caught under a force too powerful to overcome.
Lucifer looked down at the bullet, the corner of his lips curling into an amused smile.
"You've made a mistake, friend," he said coldly, his voice carrying a menacing edge.
The robber froze. His eyes widened in disbelief, and his trembling hands failed to steady the gun. "What the hell... are you?" he whispered.
Lucifer's smile turned into something more terrifying—his eyes flickered with an unnatural red, like the heat of a blazing fire. The air around him seemed to grow thicker, charged with an ominous energy.
The robber's knees buckled as he tried to back away, but his fear paralyzed him.
"Who am I?" Lucifer repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "You'll know soon enough."
The red glow in Lucifer's eyes intensified. The robber's scream echoed through the street, his mind unraveling at the sight of the unearthly power radiating from Lucifer. His back hit the wall, and he scrambled to get away, dropping his weapon in his haste.
"I—no, I—I can't—get away from me!" the robber screamed, his voice high-pitched in terror.
Just then, the sirens of an approaching police car could be heard, and in a few seconds, two squad cars pulled up to the scene.
The officer leading the charge, a female detective with short dark hair, looked at the scene and immediately spotted Lucifer. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his intimidating presence.
"Fancy seeing you again, Lucifer," she said with a dry tone, her eyes scanning the robber, who was now visibly shaking and babbling nonsensically. "It seems you can't stay out of trouble."
The robber, as if on cue, broke down even further. "Take me—take me away! Please! Just get me away from him!" he begged, pointing at Lucifer with trembling fingers.
The detective, unfazed, exchanged a quick glance with her partner before signaling for the officers to arrest the robber.
As they dragged him away, the detective turned back to Lucifer. "You've got a way with people. But I've got a job to do," she said, then turned her back and walked off.
Lucifer stood there, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. He glanced at the terrified robber one last time before the police car sped off into the night.
The night had returned to silence, the only sound left being the soft patter of the rain as it began to fall, soaking the street and everything in its path. Lucifer stood there for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts of the robbery—and who was behind it.
---
Later that evening, after the robbery incident, Lucifer was at his penthouse, trying to forget the chaos of the night. He poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in his glass. But before he could sip it, the doorbell rang.
He walked over, still feeling the rush of adrenaline from his earlier encounter, and opened the door. Standing in front of him was none other than Lisa, looking a little hesitant.
"Lucifer," she said, her voice low. "I... I need to talk to you."
He studied her face, wondering what was going on. "What is it, Lisa?"
"About us," she began, pausing as though she wasn't sure how to proceed. "I... I don't know how to say this, but..." She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his. "I like you. I think I've liked you for a while now."
The words hit Lucifer harder than he expected. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Debbie appeared from behind Lisa, stepping into the room.
"I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" Debbie asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.
Lisa quickly stepped aside, clearly embarrassed. But Debbie continued with an amused smirk. "Oh, Lucifer," she said, shaking her head. "You really have no idea, do you?"
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, completely unsure of where this was headed. "What are you talking about, Debbie?"
Debbie leaned forward, eyes glinting with something like pity. "Lisa is so clingy," she said, glancing at Lisa who shifted uncomfortably. "She doesn't want to let you go, and you let her."
Lisa blinked, looking between them in confusion. "What...?"
"Debbie," Lucifer interrupted, his voice laced with a hint of frustration, "you don't get it."
"Don't I?" Debbie retorted, crossing her arms. "You think I'm the bad guy here, but I can't stand to watch you being dragged around by her like this. You deserve better, Lucifer."
Lisa, visibly hurt, turned her back on both of them. "I'm not... I don't need this," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucifer, sensing the tension between the two women, suddenly realized the situation had escalated far beyond his control.
Before he could make a decision on how to handle things, the rain started to pour heavily, cutting through the air with an unexpected intensity. It soaked them instantly, leaving them standing there, drenched.
Without another word, Lucifer gestured toward the door. "Come inside," he said quietly. "We're getting soaked out here."
They rushed inside, the tension between them still palpable. Lucifer closed the door, but neither Lisa nor Debbie spoke. The atmosphere in the penthouse grew heavier, each of them lost in their own thoughts, their silent exchange filled with emotional weight.
"Well," Lucifer said, breaking the silence, "this was an interesting turn of events."
Lisa gave him a strained smile, while Debbie simply turned her head away.
Lucifer sighed, wondering how he got caught in the middle of such an emotional storm.