Several parties that took place in Miami where murders took place all pointed to one man. It is because of that one man that I decided to visit Los Angeles. Dexter thought to himself, pondering the evidence that had accrued over the years, but he was far too busy to notice before. Too busy killing other serial killers, not unlike himself, except for his ‘Code.’ It was his code of conduct developed by his late adopted father, Harry, that kept him Dexter alive and from getting caught.
Dexter Morgan had seen many types of evil in his life, but Los Angeles had a peculiar kind of darkness. The evidence he'd uncovered during his work as Miami's blood-spatter expert pointed to one man, a charming nightclub owner with an unsettling knack for leaving chaos in his wake—Lucifer Morningstar.
Dexter arrived in L.A. under the guise of a tourist but was, as always, hunting.
His research revealed that Lucifer had once hosted wild parties in Miami that coincided with a string of gruesome murders. The details of the killings—a dark, sadistic edge—gnawed at Dexter. The more he dug, the more Lucifer fit the profile. Yet something felt…off.
Dexter watched the nightclub owner and his activities within the walls of Lux from the shadows. The bartender, an attractive and very athletic looking woman named Maze gave Dexter notice. She watched Dexter watching Lucifer from the shadows. What was this one up to and who was he? Maze wondered. She poured a double of their finest scotch and approached the table where Dexter sat.
“This one is on the house. Tell me, what brings you to the Lux?” Maze sat the drink on the table, catching Dexter by surprise.
Dexter hesitated for a split second before meeting Maze’s sharp, curious eyes. He studied her demeanor—calm, predatory, and laced with a hint of amusement. It was unsettling, but she didn’t seem immediately hostile. He reached for the drink, his fingers brushing the cool glass.
“Just passing through,” Dexter said casually, though his mind raced to calculate the safest response. “I heard this place was... unforgettable.”
Maze chuckled, leaning against the edge of his table. “Oh, it is. But most people don’t spend their time lurking in the shadows. You’ve got the look of someone hunting more than a good cocktail.”
Dexter forced a smile, lifting the glass as if in thanks. “Maybe I’m just not much of a dancer.”
Maze’s grin widened, her sharpness cutting through the dim light. “No, you’re something else entirely.” She folded her arms, tilting her head. “Let me guess. Private investigator? Ex-cop? Or just someone with a very peculiar hobby?”
Dexter took a measured sip, the scotch burning down his throat. “Let’s call it... an interest in justice.”
Her laugh was low and edged with menace. “Justice? Oh, sweetie, you’re in the wrong place for that. But maybe you’re exactly where you belong.”
Dexter’s eyes flicked to Lucifer across the room, engrossed in conversation with another patron. “Your boss—he has a way of attracting attention.”
Maze followed his gaze, her expression softening slightly. “Lucifer attracts trouble the way moths find flames. But he’s harmless... mostly. Whatever you think you know, I’d think twice before poking that bear.”
The warning hung in the air, but Dexter wasn’t deterred. “Noted.” He leaned back in his chair, meeting her gaze again. “And you? What’s your role in all this?”
Maze’s smile turned sharper, like the edge of a blade. “Oh, I’m just the bartender. But if you’re not careful, I could be your worst nightmare.”
Dexter let a small, genuine smirk slip. “I’ve met my share of nightmares. You’d be surprised how many don’t live up to the hype.”
Maze laughed, a deep and genuine sound that softened the tension. “I like you. You’re strange, but I like strange.” She leaned closer, her tone dropping to something more conspiratorial. “Just remember, everyone has secrets. Even you.”
Dexter inclined his head slightly. “Noted.”
As Maze sauntered back to the bar, Dexter couldn’t help but feel the weight of her gaze linger, like she was dissecting his every move. Whatever game Lucifer and his entourage were playing, he was no longer certain who was hunting whom.
After weeks of careful observation, Dexter struck from the shadows as Lucifer was dropping Chloe off at home. Lucifer and Chloe were coming back from a night out at the Lux when Dexter’s needle pierced her and Lucifer’s necks. Armed with two syringes of M99, Dexter subdued them both just as Chloe opened her front door. The M99 shouldn’t have worked, but it was only Lucifer's proximity to Chloe that made him vulnerable.
Dexter, cautious, ensured Chloe was unconscious and carried her inside lying her on the couch, leaving her none the wiser.
Maze, who was sitting for Chloe, watching Trixie, witnessed the whole event. Having demonic instincts, she was prepared. She was curious as to what this mysterious man was after and wanted to let things play out in order to discover the truth of his sudden presence at the Lux and his interest in her boss, Lucifer.
As Dexter finished laying Chloe on the couch, Trixie woke and saw him.
“Hey, mister,” Trixie said, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
Maze watched from the shadows, panicked and ready to pounce on Dexter if she had to.
Dexter froze. “Lucifer had a bit too much fun tonight. I’m taking him home, so he doesn’t drive.”
“Oh, good! Mommy says driving drunk is bad.” She giggled. “You’re nice!”
Dexter forced a smile, his heart racing as Trixie wandered back to the couch to join her mother.
With a sigh of relief, Dexter left the house and closed the door behind him. He scooped up the unconscious body of Lucifer and carried him to the trunk of his rental car where he bound and gagged the Prince of Darkness before closing him in the trunk and driving away.
Maze stepped out of the shadows. Seeing Trixie was safe beside her mother, she took her leave after the would-be hunter with Lucifer.
Once in the kill room, Dexter began his ritual, setting up photos of the victims and preparing his tools. Lucifer woke sooner than expected but he was curious and played coy. He allowed Dexter to undress him, lay him out on a plastic-covered table, only to be completely wrapped in plastic himself. Bound securely to the table with industrial plastic wrap, Lucifer was beginning to lose interest. Dexter cracked open some smelling salts beneath Lucifer’s nose. This was a sign he was supposed to wake up.
Dexter loomed, his blade ready, but Lucifer was oddly calm, even amused.
“Are you going to monologue, or shall we get straight to the point?” Lucifer quipped.
Lucifer scanned the evidence. “Oh, these poor souls. You think I’m responsible?” He smirked. “Deliciously flattering, but wrong.”
Dexter hesitated. Something in Lucifer's demeanor didn’t match the killers he knew. As Dexter gripped his scalpel and blood slide, his father appeared—Harry, his moral compass.
“Dexter, you’ve been wrong before,” Harry cautioned.
Lucifer tilted his head, amused. “Who’s Harry? Is he here too? Sounds fun!”
Dexter froze. “How do you…?”
Lucifer leaned into Dexter’s mind, his powers peeling back the layers of Dexter’s psyche.
“Well, well. A ‘Dark Passenger’? How thrilling!” Lucifer said. “I might like you, Dexter.”
The tension broke as Lucifer offered to help. “If I were guilty, you’d have evidence beyond a party guest list. Let me prove you wrong. Together, we’ll find the real monster.”
Reluctantly, Dexter agreed and moved to cut Lucifer loose. Maze entered the kill room from behind and surprised Dexter. Before Dexter could react or say anything, Lucifer freed himself from the plastic and stood up, revealing all his glory to Dexter and Maze.
Dexter froze, his scalpel still in hand, as Maze strolled into the room. She looked around, her eyes taking in the meticulously wrapped plastic, the photos, and the tools laid out in perfect precision. She gave a low whistle, her gaze landing on Dexter with an amused smirk.
"Well, this is cozy," Maze said, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. "A little extreme for a bachelor party, don’t you think?"
Lucifer, sat up, ripping the plastic free of his body with ease, turned to Maze with a delighted grin. "Maze, darling! You’re just in time. Our friend here was about to perform a very... intimate procedure on me. But alas, it seems I’ve ruined the surprise."
Dexter’s grip on the scalpel tightened. "How did you—?"
Lucifer waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, please. Do you think a little tranquilizer and some duct tape could keep me down? Amateur mistake, my dear."
Maze laughed and gestured to Dexter. "You have to admit, though, he’s got style. Look at all this—plastic everywhere. Not a drop of blood gets out. I almost want to hire him for clean-up duty."
Dexter’s mind raced, his usual control slipping. His dark passenger screamed at him to act, but the surreal absurdity of the situation froze him in place. "What are you people?" he finally managed to ask, his voice low and sharp.
Lucifer stepped closer, his naked body exposed and vulnerable in appearance, yet magnificent to view, his red eyes glinting with amusement. "People? Oh, Dexter, how quaint. I’m the Devil, darling. The Morningstar. Prince of Darkness. Haven’t you heard?" He winked. "Though, lately, I’ve been dabbling in law enforcement. A bit of a passion project."
Dexter blinked, the weight of Lucifer’s words pressing against the fragile boundaries of his rationality. Maze chimed in, her tone dripping with mischief. "And I’m his number-one demon. Think of me as the muscle. So, what’s your deal, plastic man? You’re not exactly law-abiding yourself."
Dexter took a step back, his grip on the scalpel faltering. "I don’t... believe in demons or devils. You’re lying."
Lucifer’s grin widened, and with a snap of his fingers, flames erupted briefly in his palm before vanishing. "Oh, Dexter, denial is such a bore. But let’s not dwell on my divine credentials. What’s more fascinating is you. All this effort to play judge, jury, and executioner. How deliciously hypocritical."
Maze moved closer, her gaze piercing. "You know, I kinda like him. The whole ‘dark and brooding’ thing works. But here’s the thing, buddy: you mess with Lucifer, you mess with me. And trust me, I don’t play nice."
Dexter’s instinct to survive kicked in, but before he could react, Lucifer raised a hand. "Enough, Maze. Let’s not scare him off—yet." He turned to Dexter, his tone almost... friendly. "Here’s the deal, Dex. I can see it in your eyes—you’re searching for something, hunting someone. And I love a good hunt. Why don’t we help each other out?"
Dexter hesitated, his thoughts warring between logic and the surreal nightmare unfolding before him. "Why would you help me?" he asked cautiously.
Lucifer’s grin softened into something almost sincere. "Because, my dear Dexter, I find you utterly fascinating. And besides..." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "What’s life—or death—without a little chaos?"
Maze smirked, crossing her arms. "What do you say, plastic man? Team up with the Devil and his demon? Could be fun."
Dexter’s dark passenger stirred, intrigued by the offer. Against every instinct, he found himself nodding slowly. "Fine. But no police, no interference."
Lucifer clapped his hands together. "Marvelous! Oh, this is going to be so much fun."
Maze rolled her eyes but smiled. "You better not get yourself killed, Dexter. Cleaning up after humans is not in my job description."
And so, the unlikely alliance was formed, with Dexter realizing he might have found partners as dangerous and unpredictable as himself.
Their investigation unraveled a sinister conspiracy implicating a powerful individual using Lucifer’s parties as cover. The killer’s signature brutality even shocked Dexter. Lucifer, thrilled by the hunt, introduced Dexter to Mazikeen, who became fascinated with his ritualistic justice.
The climax unfolded in a deadly showdown. Dexter’s dark ritual took center stage, with Maze assisting and Lucifer watching in giddy excitement. As Dexter disposed of the body far at sea aboard Lucifer’s yacht, he realized this peculiar team might understand him better than anyone had before.
“I’d say come back anytime,” Lucifer teased, “but Miami sounds like a ghastly bore.”
With that, Dexter returned home, his dark passenger temporarily sated, carrying memories of allies who danced on the edge of morality like he did.
Mazikeen and Lucifer watched as their new dark friend left them in the night.
“Why have we not heard of him or seen his name on our list of those expected in Hell?” Mazikeen asked curiously. Her words stung Lucifer deep with curiosity.
“Not on our list, did you say? He must be one of dear old dads.” Lucifer gestured before taking a sip of his scotch glass.