Chapter Eight: The Crest
1043 Words
The hollow click echoed as Lucifer shifted the bookshelf aside, revealing the concealed compartment built into the wall. His fingers brushed the cold steel of the pistol nestled inside, the familiar weight greeted his palms. He reached for it, gaze hardening—until—
“Daddy… is that a real gun?”
His hand froze.
Slowly, he turned. His daughter stood behind him in her school uniform, backpack slipping from one shoulder, her honey-brown curls pulled into two uneven braids. Elsa’s ocean-blue eyes—the same eyes that once belonged to him—were wide with unfiltered curiosity.
He quickly shut the panel, masking the weapon from view.
“Hey, Princess,” he said, his voice too casual. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
“Is it real?” she asked again, pointing to where the wall had just closed.
Lucifer hesitated. “Yes. It’s real.”
She blinked. “Are you going somewhere?”
“No,” he said gently, walking over to her. “Why?”
“You only ever open that spot when you think something bad might happen.”
Lucifer knelt in front of her, brushing a curl behind her ear. “You’ve been watching me?”
She folded her arms, pouting her lips. “I’m not stupid, Daddy."
He smiled faintly. “No. You’re not.”
“Where’s Mummy?” she asked.
“In the garden. Said she needed some air,” he murmured, then added quickly, “You hungry? Want me to make you some pasta?”
She ignored the question. “Can I see it?”
He blinked, trying hard to feign ignorance. “See what?”
“The gun.”
Lucifer exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. He knew playing ignorance wouldn't work on Elsa, she was too smart.
“Elsa…”
“I won’t touch it. Just want to see.”
Her eyes glittered with curiosity as they pled with him. It was irresistible.
The corners of his mouth twitched as he gave in. “This stays between us, alright? No telling Mummy.”
She beamed excitedly. “Cross my heart.”
With a slow sigh, he reopened the hidden panel and removed the weapon—sleek, matte black, compact but deadly. He ejected the magazine, checked the chamber twice, and enabled the safety before placing the disarmed Desert Eagle gently into her small hands.
Elysa’s eyes lit up. “Whoa.”
Lucifer kept his hands hovering around hers, careful. “This is a Compact Mark XIX .357 Magnum. Modified. Custom-engraved.”
She traced the golden etching along the side with a delicate finger.
“Velut Aquila Ad Alta,” she read aloud, tilting her head. “What does that mean?”
“‘As the eagle to great heights,’” he answered. “A reminder. To always rise above. Look ahead, see what is invisible to others. Conquer.”
“Did you make this yourself?” she whispered.
“I designed it. A long time ago. Before you were born.”
Her gaze lifted to him, thoughtful. “So… it’s your symbol?”
Lucifer smacked his lips. “Something like that.”
She nodded slowly. “Then it’s mine too, right? I mean… since I’m your daughter.”
Lucifer’s chest tightened. “You'll always be my daughter, Elsa.”
"Since it's now a family thing, can we can call this a family crest?" she asked excitedly. "I'll love to have a family symbol."
Lucifer chuckled at her childlike excitement. He didn't want to ruin it for her. "Sorta... we can call it that too."
She smiled at that—soft, innocent, knowing. Then her tone shifted, like a breeze before a storm.
“Daddy… are you a bad man?” she asked quietly.
The question cracked something inside him.
He sat back on his heels. “What makes you ask that?”
“Because… in stories, bad guys carry weapons. Mummy says guns are for hurting people.” she whispered.
Lucifer looked at her long and hard, then gestured for her to sit beside him. She did.
“Look at me, baby.”
“I am.”
He held her gently on the shoulder. “No, really look.”
Her eyes met his. Calm. Steady.
“What do you see?” he asked.
She looked and this time, she muttered. “I see… love.”
“Look deeper.”
She squinted, tilting her head. “And something else. Like… sadness?”
He nodded. “You’re close. What you’re seeing is the will to protect. That’s why I carry it. To keep safe guard the people I love most.”
Elsa leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re not a bad man.”
“Me too, baby,” he whispered.
Lucifer swallowed really hard. It dawn on him that their daughter was growing, maturing emotionally, quickly.
Too quickly.
She wasn't growing up at the pace of her age, she was growing up an adult-child. And that reality pierce his heart.
They sat in silence for a moment. Then she whispered, “I saw someone today.”
Lucifer frowned. “At school?”
She nodded. “A man. He was dressed in black… everything black. Suit, gloves, glasses. He looked strange.”
Lucifer’s jaw clenched. “Did he talk to you?”
“No. Just stood near the gates. Watching.”
“Did he follow you home?”
“No. But Daddy…”
“Yes?”
“He had a strange symbol on his blazer. Something just like our crest.”
Lucifer’s pulse spiked. “What kind of symbol?”
She got up and dashed to his work table. In seconds, she returned with his sketchbook and a pencil. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Elysa began to draw.
Her hand was quick and precise. When she turned the book around, Lucifer’s stomach dropped.
Two daggers. A ring of feathers. A skull over crossed blades.
His blood ran cold.
The Omertà.
Lucifer stood, gun forgotten, heart pounding. They’d found him. After all these years.
Niklaus was telling the truth!
He looked at Elsa—his daughter, his joy, his reason for redemption—and felt the storm break inside him.
They are not coming....
They are here already!
- Writer
