Inhuman Warlock

Even though the rubber gloves didn't stop his decaying powers entirely, they did decay the slowest. It allowed him to still touch things when he wore them.

There also seemed to be something incomprehensible about his power which he couldn't understand.

Even though everything he touched did decay, some things decayed unusually fast while others decayed a little slower. It was as if something subconscious was at play which he couldn't control.

Lucifer picked up the bowl and started drinking the soup without using the spoon. He wasn't given the knife and other cutleries when he was in the Facility, and he had to eat things with hands, so it had become his habit not to use such things.

He finished the soup in an instant. His hunger was satiated. He turned back and started leaving without saying anything to the ones that had fed him.

He was curious if they would ask him for something in return. Was it that they actually helped him because they were good? That wasn't possible. People were only good for their greed. That's what he thought.

He walked slowly to see if there was something else. What was their purpose in helping him? He wanted them to stop him. He wanted them to show him their true side.

"Wait!" Lucifer was just about to push the door open to leave when he heard the voice of the woman.

'Here it comes. They're all the same.' He thought as he clenched his fist, slowly turning back. As he turned around, he saw the woman looking at him with a caring smile.

"You can come again if you're feeling hungry, alright? Our doors are always open for you."

Lucifer didn't respond even though he was taken aback. Was he wrong? Did they actually help him for no greed?

He turned around once again and left the restaurant.

***

Lucifer left the restaurant. He had only taken a few steps outside when he saw a group of 20 or so people walk past him. The group of men entered the restaurant.

Lucifer looked back at them and saw some of them having baseball bats in their hands. He stopped in his tracks as he looked towards the restaurant in uncertainty.

He took a deep breath as he shook his head. Why? They were the same! Why! Why did he feel the urge to check if the couple was in danger? They were all bastards! He couldn't be sold for a little bit of compassion. Inside, they were all the same.

He clenched his fist even harder as he took a deep breath. He started leaving. Unfortunately, he couldn't take even two steps before he stood.

"Dammit!"

He cursed out loud as he looked towards the sky. His parents' face flashed before his eyes. The banter of this couple and the help they had provided him, even if it was but a simple soup. He wanted to check things out once more.

Was it really good to give humans the benefit of the doubt? Maybe people could actually be good? His parents were good after all. He started thinking of excuses to give him a reason to go back.

He knew that it was going to be something that will change him forever. If he helps, he will change. But if he were betrayed again, that would break him even more. He'll be too broken. And all it would take is one more betrayal.

He was still a kid, though, and decided to trust his guts, unaware of what a bad decision it was. And how it was going to change him, not for the better but, for the worst.

***

After deciding, Lucifer turned back and walked back to the restaurant. Pushing the door open, he once again entered the place. As he entered the restaurant, he saw the group of people surrounding the couple.

"It's been a month now, but you still haven't paid the protection money, Weston! Are you really trying to go down that path?" The bulky man in the leather jacket told the middle-aged owner of the restaurant.

"We can't pay you this month, Paolo. Please understand. We're a small business, and business has been down this month. We're even struggling to keep the business running, let alone paying you. Give us more time," Weston replied as he lowered his head.

He couldn't help but notice the shivering hand of his wife, who seemed to be scared. He held her hand gently.

"I don't see you dying of hunger? Why is that? If you have money to eat, then you have money to pay! But I guess you don't want to pay us. Do you think that we won't break all the bones in your body?" Paolo laughed out loud as he rubbed his baseball bat gently.

"I w-will pay you next month," Weston replied. "I swear on my life. Just give us one more month!"

Paolo shook his head lightly as he sighed.

"Tell me one thing. If I go easy on you, how many businesses will follow your example and give me the same excuse? In this business, reputation is much more important than money, and I won't let my reputation fall because of you."

He looked back at his men before he commanded, "Guys, break the legs of his wife. This should act as a reminder to him and as a warning to the other businesses."

"Yes, boss," a man responded as he stepped towards the dark-haired woman who hid behind Weston.