When the door opened, I didn't really know what to expect. Maybe a tired middle-aged guy with half my jawline, or just a complete bum in general only me taking me in for state benefits. But the man who stepped in looked like your typical tycoon. Tailored suit, clean shaven, and decently built. No wonder why he left that bitch guy probably moved around a lot.
Still slightly contemplating. "Are you my dad?"
He paused in the doorway, gave me a slight nod. And then, everything in the room stopped. Literally stopped. The cop across from me froze mid-blink. The officer with the coffee? Still mid-pour, the drip hanging in the air like a glitch.
I felt my chest tighten. My mind kept trying to figure out the closet exit route, but my feet wouldn't budge.
The man stepped forward, closed the door softly. He scanned the room like he was checking his grocery list. "We don't have much time here. I'm going to need you to listen carefully."
I couldn't even get a word out.
He studied me. "I'm not just your father. I'm Lucifer. The actual one."
For a second, my brain tried to run through possibilities: stroke, gas leak, some deep-fake VR experiment. But then another thought landed: Well, I've died multiple times already. Not really that far off in the spectrum to be honest. Guess it was about time I experienced something new but something still gnawed at me.
He kept going. "Your mother summoned me years ago, wanted power, knowledge… all the usual mortal nonsense. You were the outcome. A reckless spark I started — maybe to get my own father's attention. Maybe out of boredom."
I just stared at him. No big meltdown, no screaming — just that creeping realization that my life had always been a slow-burn dumpster fire, and this was the inevitable sequel.
He stepped closer, voice dropping slightly. "You have to come with me. Whether you like me or not is irrelevant. If you don't, you'll be hunted, tortured, or worse. You will be used as bait to try and force my hand."
As much as I wanted to think I'd debate that, logically I was already on board. I mean, what's the alternative? Stay here and let some demon frat party turn me into a piñata? No thanks. And the fact he has the whole police station frozen with out moving a muscle has me convinced.
Then it hit me. Even with the whole "actual Devil" reveal, I was… weirdly calm. Too calm. I tilted my head, studied him back.
"What are you doing to me?"
He tilted his head, almost curious. "You noticed that?"
"Yes," I said flatly.
A small smile played at the edge of his mouth. "You would. You're my son, after all. I needed you calm. I didn't want you panicking and making a scene…well at least in front of me considering the statues and all that."
I took a slow breath, forcing myself to stay upright. "Can you stop? Because, regardless of all this, no one likes their head messed with."
He paused, then gave a single slow nod. "Of course. Forgive me. I'm… still getting used to this 'parenting' thing. Seeing you in distress seemed counterproductive."
The second he pulled back whatever mind trick he was doing, I felt the full surge of adrenaline hit. My stomach flipped, hands went a bit numb. But somehow, that felt more honest.
I nodded once, slowly. "Thanks," I muttered.
He straightened up again. "If you stay here, if you try to hide, you'll be found. There are beings who would use you to force me to step down, or try to turn you into some figurehead for their own rebellion. Others might just want your for leverage or just for some good all revenge. Hell isn't exactly a democracy, and isn't any better than Earth when when it comes to power games."
I didn't say anything, just watched him. That old instinct kicked in: listen first, act later.
Lucifer, or whatever name he wanted to go by, let out a slow sigh , like he was measuring his next words carefully for once. "You're going to come with me. I only have so much time to prepare you for what's coming before I forcibly have to go back to hell. Whether you hate me or not doesn't matter right now. It's survival."
I ran a hand over my face. "Guess I don't really have a choice then," I said still trying to come to terms to whatever this is.
He gave me a small, approving nod. "Good. While I'd like you to see me as your father eventually, you probably won't as of now or ever will. So to make this easier… you can call me Cade."
I let the name roll around my head for a second. Felt weird, but less loaded than "Dad."
"Cade," I said testing out the name.
He looked pleased.
"Alright," I said, clearing my throat. "If we're leaving, I still have stuff to grab. Clothes, and other essentials."
Cade's mouth curled into that smug, half-amused grin — the type you want to wipe off someone's face.
"You won't need to pack," he said, almost lightly.
I frowned. "Why—"
"I burned your house down," he interrupted, matter-of-fact.
My head snapped up.
"You what?!!!"
Cade held up a hand like he was calming a dog. "It wasn't random. Any personal belongings, anything tied to you, can be used to track you or manipulate you. Burning it all was the cleanest option. Compared to wiping the minds of an entire town to forget you existed? Relatively easy."
I just stared not knowing what to say. Thanks for the warm send-off, Dad. Nothing says bonding like arson and a neural lobotomy of my neighbours.
Cade kept going, unbothered. "My power here is limited unless directly summoned. It ties back to why I will have forcibly pulled back to hell, altering memories on this scale drains me significantly. But it was necessary. You can be paranoid if you want — that's healthy, actually. But understand: it was to keep you alive."
I slumped back against the chair, rubbing my temples. It felt like every piece of normalcy was systematically dissected and set on fire. Literally.
He watched me for a second, then tilted his head, as if gauging whether I'd bolt.
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked finally, voice flat.
He chuckled softly. "Mystic Falls."
I squinted. Mystic Falls… why did that sound familiar?
Then a memory hit, on the top shelf of my old bookcase, and their it stood with its broody cover. The Vampire Diaries.
I sighed, pressing a palm to my face. "Of course because being the son of the devil wasn't enough," I mumbled.
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I would like to thank you all for the support, however I won't be as active as I like due to the fact of have a hundred of ideas running a-mock in my head along with preparing for basic training(I need to make bread somehow.) So again much to my dismay except irregular updates for this specific fic.