The Fallen and The Furry

Lucifer was his father’s most prized possession. He was a picture-perfect son. He did his chores without complaining, got straight A’s in school, and was the drum major for the marching band. Life was going great for his family. Lucifer was the oldest child, meaning his job was to protect his siblings from anything life threw at them. His life was perfect until one day, it wasn’t.

Father called everyone into the living room for a family meeting, which usually meant something was wrong. He sat proudly in his big lazy boy chair, with heat and massaging capabilities. It sits in the middle of the living room, and he is the only one allowed to sit there. His dad announced that the family would be getting a dog! It was not just any normal dog; it was a talking dog. His siblings shrieked in happiness because they had never had a dog. Lucifer became angry at this news. He didn’t want a dog. His life was perfect as it was. The new family dog arrived on Saturday, the sixth day of the week. Lucifer would grow to hate Saturday. His father gave that dog everything you could imagine. Toys, treats, blankets, you name it, this dog had it. His father made the dog his top priority, even over his children. His siblings didn’t care, but by god, Lucifer did.

Lucifer went to his father and expressed his feelings of betrayal and sorrow. His father dismissed him and said, “Don’t you have enough? Is your life not good?” This response only fueled Lucifer’s anger and resentment, sparking the beginning of his rebellion.

Lucifer went to his siblings and shared his feelings and plans. He reminded them of how great life was before they got the dog. Many of his siblings were shocked and refused to join him, but a few felt sympathetic and agreed to support him. They, too, felt forgotten.

The siblings who disagreed with him went to their father to report Lucifer’s plan. His father groaned deeply when he heard this news, marking the start of the great household war.

Lucifer, once the perfect son, now found himself toe-to-toe with his father, ready to fight a war. The house was chaotic. Vases were being thrown, eggs were splattered against the wall, and the whole house looked like a tornado had just blown through. Outside, the rain and wind whipped around, knocking at the windows. As the war raged on, Lucifer became tired and more reckless, consumed by his rage and despair. His father, seeing this, seized the moment. In a final move, his father grabbed his shirt and tore it from his back, sending him backward down the stairs. The scream that followed was deafening and reverberated through the whole house. There at the foot of the stairs, Lucifer lay broken not by the physical wounds but by the deep pain of this father’s rejection.

Without hesitation, his father kicked him out of the house. Despite his banishment, Lucifer was resolute. He vowed to get back at his father by corrupting his most prized possession-the dog.

Lucifer is now out of the house, shrouded in his fallen glory. He observed the dog with a keen, strategic mind, understanding its desires and weaknesses. He built a rapport with the dog, charming it with treats. The dog trusted him in his innocence, seeing him as a friend and protector.

His father had given the dog one command: do not eat from the box of treats in the middle of the cabinet. Before Lucifer’s influence, the dog had never considered disobeying because he feared the consequences. However, Lucifer’s persuasive words began to plant seeds of doubt and curiosity.

Lucifer spun grand tales about the flavors, and satisfaction that awaited those who ate from the forbidden box of treats. He described the enlightenment he would gain, his voice smooth and authoritative, echoing the divine command he once enforced. The dog, intrigued and captivated, began to question the restriction.

One fateful day, Lucifer approached the dog in the closet’s doorway. He tempted the dog with a voice as soft as a serpent’s hiss. “Did my father say you must not eat from any box of treats in the closet?” he asked, pretending to be innocent. The dog replied, “I may eat treats from the boxes in the closet, but Father said, ‘You must not eat treats from the box in the middle of the closet, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’”

Lucifer smiled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You will not surely die,” he said. “Father knows that when you eat from it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like him, knowing good and evil.” His words resonated with the dog, stirring a desire for the forbidden knowledge. He reached his head into the box, picked up a treat, and took a bite. The moment the treat touched his lips, a thunderous roar echoed through the house.

The peaceful tranquility of the house shattered as his father’s voice thundered. “What is this you have done?” His voice was filled with sorrow and anger, for his son had betrayed him a second time. The dog, realizing his mistake, was filled with fear and shame. He looked to Lucifer for answers, but he was gone, his work complete.

God punished the dog, casting him out of the house to toil and suffer in the harsh world beyond. He was to walk the earth in shame. Lucifer watched from the shadows, satisfied. He had succeeded in corrupting his father’s most prized possession.

But Lucifer’s revenge didn’t end there. He vowed to spend the rest of his days finding ways to lead the dog astray, to make his father despise the creature he once cherished above all. Lucifer became the eternal adversary, forever seeking to undermine his father’s work and draw the dog into darkness.

Thus, the tale of Lucifer, the son, reminds us of pride, rebellion, and the eternal struggle between light and darkness.