He loved this, this part of being a familiar. It wasn’t a bad job, per se, but it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, either - no pun intended. Ceb could think of a LOT of other things he’d rather be doing than being trapped in a haunted mansion filled with screaming wretches and tortured souls, and hunting was one of them.
Lucifer only let him out on two occasions: when he needed to reap some souls, or when he needed to hunt someone - or something - down.
There were times when Lucifer would accompany him - big jobs like collecting souls from the living, or when he needed to dish out some chaos.
Usually, though, Ceb would be given the freedom to hunt alone.
And there was no higher honor - or pleasure, in Ceb’s unbiased opinion.
He loved the feeling of the breeze through his fur, loved the heavy thudding of his paws against the ground, the rush of excitement and adrenaline he’d get when he ran so fast it almost seemed like he was gliding over the ground.
He loved the electricity running through his veins, the sudden rapid-beating of his heart.
Hunting made him feel alive, after not feeling anything for a long time.
Hunting was a distraction.
This time, the reason for the hunt was not so pleasant.
He’d been tasked to track down one of Lucifer’s familiars, and it wasn’t particularly one Ceb was fond of.
Of course, he’d had to get used to the idea of Lucifer never being content with just ONE familiar - and it had been a lesson that had been painful for him to learn, a lesson that left a wound that constantly bled.
Just recently, it seemed, Lucifer had taken in a young male demon to be his second familiar - and it’d been nice to see Lucifer smiling, no matter how brief - that was the only reason Ceb tolerated the familiars’ shitty attitudes; the fact that they made Lucifer feel empowered again, made him smile - give him a small taste of happiness, or whatever it was they gave him.
As long as Lucifer was smiling, Ceb was happy.
That’s what being a servant meant, right?
Sacrificing your own happiness for your Master’s, even if it caused you pain.
Ceb shook his head, clearing his mind of any unwanted thoughts.
Right now, he had to focus on the hunt - the demon boy was a cunning one, and he knew that he was being hunted.
Which made him all the more unpredictable. Everyone was dangerous when they were afraid.
"Bring him back alive. His punishment will be by my hand."
Ceb disagreed, but he knew how Lucifer could get when he was pissed off.
After minutes treading the grounds, he finally caught the slightest trace of a scent - demons gave off a slight burnt smell, like embers in a dying flame. Underneath the musk was a bitterness that lingered in your nose and on your tongue like an aftertaste.
Grinning ferociously, Ceb sped up, feeling the powerful muscles in his fore-and-back-legs flex and strain to their maximum velocity.
The scent was growing stronger now, and his grin turned into a snarl as he readied himself for a struggle.
Just as he burst through a copse of looming bushes, he stopped dead in his tracks, surprise halting the heat of the hunt.
His senses had never failed him before, and it didn’t now - but what he didn’t expect was the demon boy to have already been captured.
“Ah, Ceb. I thought I’d bump into you.”
The other unwelcome guest was someone Cerberus knew too well - before he’d become Lucifer’s servant, he’d had had several run-ins with said guest.
Feeling a ripple go through his spine, Ceb let waves of the Change take over him.
He stood up, stretching his neck and shoulders luxuriously before smirking at the person before him.
“I knew I was smelling a rat somewhere.”
“That’s not how you say hi to an old friend.”
Ceb snorted, but kept the retorts to himself - one learned not to pick unnecessary fights with Death.
Ironic, how Death and the Devil were two and the same, but they existed as entirely different people with entirely different jobs.
In reality, Death and Lucifer were - acquaintances. Partners in the same field of business.
Lucifer would cause the chaos, and Death would be there to count the numbers.
Their relationship was nothing more than professional, but during times like these, Ceb wondered if Lucifer had ever harbored any feelings for the other person, or vice versa.
I mean, it’s not like they’re unattractive, Ceb thought.
Death and Lucifer both shared the same deathly-pale parlor, the color that seemed to drain the life and blood out of them.
Where Lucifer was blonde and blue-eyed, Death had messy black hair that stuck out in eccentric tufts around his head, and pale - almost white - irises that stood out above black circles under his eyes.
Another thing that attracted Ceb was the fact that Death’s veins stood out prominently against his pale skin - they were the colour of a day-old bruise; blue and black and mottled purple.
These veins trailed all the way up his pale, skinny arms, intertwined around his neck like intricate lines and made their way up his face, tracing the hard edges of his features like a lover’s caress.
Ceb - as well as on the few occasions when they’d bumped into each other - had to fight the sudden urge to trace Death’s veins with his fingers.
“What are you doing here?”
Death ignored the question - he suddenly seemed fixated on the brand-new collar around Ceb’s neck.
The male demon, sensing a disturbance in the force, tried to struggle out from underneath Death, who had him pinned down to the ground with his boot-clad foot planted on the small of his back.
Not taking his eyes off Ceb, Death reached down and stroked a long, pale finger along the demon’s bare neck, leaving a map of black veins at his touch.
The demon let out a piercing howl of rage and pain, but it otherwise stopped any further attempts at escaping.
“That’s my prey you’re tormenting,” Ceb said, raising an eyebrow.
Death blinked, then looked down at the demon in what looked like disinterest.
“Oh. I thought he was just another random trapped soul trying to claw his way out of hell.”
“He’s my Master’s familiar, and I’ve been tasked to take him home.”
Death looked up, meeting Ceb’s eyes.
“I see. You aren’t enough for Morningstar?”
Ceb tried to control the wince, but it was too late - Death had hit home, and he knew it.
“I’ll take the demon now.”
Ceb stepped forward, his hand outstretched.
Death smiled at him, long and slow.
As fast as lightning, Death reached down and placed both of his hands around the demon’s neck.
Almost at once, dark, black lines appeared on the demon’s skin, running through every inch of his flesh they could reach. It looked like he was being eaten from the inside by black tape worms, and if Ceb hadn’t known what to expect, he would’ve already turned away from the grosteque sight.
The demon screamed, thrashing for dear life underneath his captor, his fingers turning into claws as they desperately tore at the ground, trying to free himself from his torture.
But it was too late - nobody could escape Death when he decided your time was up.
With a last piercing scream of pain, all that was left of the demon was a human-shaped pile of ash on the ground.
“Master’s going to be very disappointed,” Ceb said, without much conviction - he knew that Death had done it on purpose, and he knew that Lucifer wouldn’t be pleased that he did.
“I bought you more time to have Morningstar all to yourself,” Death said, a manic smile spreading across his porcelain face. “Is that not what you desired?”
Death inched forward, curiosity burning questions in his eyes.
“You know, you’ve always intrigued me. It’s hard to escape me once, but you, my friend, have done it countless of times.”
Death stood an inch or so away from him, white irises staring down black ones.
“I have yet to have you for my own - but of course, Morningstar always has to have the very best. I admit, you're a grudge I hold against him.”
Death reached out, his fingertips lightly brushing Ceb’s jaw, his thumb skimming over the leather collar bound around his neck.
Nothing happened - no pain, no screaming.
Ceb almost wished that there was pain, just so he could feel something once more instead of this numb stupor he always seemed to be in.
Death breathed out a gust of cold air, frustration evident in his voice.
“He made you his, all because he was the collector of perfect things. And so he made you untouchable, even to me.”
With a final, playful tug at his collar, Death took a step back.
“There’s one thing I do admire Morningstar for.”
Ceb raised an eyebrow. “That is?”
Death shrugged, then smiled wickedly. “He truly protects his most valuable possessions.”
