Those who fly too close to the sun will inevitably burn, tumble out of the sky, and meet their just reward. It is not the so-called forces of evil which damn men, but rather, their own selfish pride that shall be their undoing.
He flipped the pen in his fingers, tossing it down on his desktop as he leaned backward in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. The combination of the sound of the squeaky joints of the chair and the bored yawn from the researcher matched nearly perfectly.
What was he doing, sitting here? He was wasting time, wasting his existence! Surely there had to be more to this life, Daryl Faustus abruptly slammed his fists down on the wooden desk in frustration. He stood up and adjusted his glasses as his eyes whirled around at his bookcase, crammed with books on every subject he could think of, half of which were composed by himself. A successful scholar of logic, law, theology, and medicine, Daryl had begun dismissing the topics one by one as they were no longer challenging or fit for him. These first three topics only were tools for people to use to argue with and attempt to control one another, and Daryl was above that, therefore making them useless to him.
Medicine was a completely different story, because there was one thing that he cared about more than his research. He remembered the strange young woman that he had seen washed upon the shore so many years ago. Her hair was the color of seaweed and stormy skies, her skin a sickly gray as she suffocated on the beach. Her fins and torso had been mangled on the sharp rocks by the shore and she had cried out for help with the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. Not questioning why a naked woman with the tail of a fish had appeared on the beach, he carried her to his lab and prepared a lukewarm bath of saltwater for her to recover. She had thanked him through tears as her angelic voice died away for the last time; the internal injuries had been too much…
Daryl blinked the mistiness from his own eyes. Medicine was pointless unless it could bring the departed back or grant immortality. He looked around the room as if someone might be peeking into his only window before he unlocked his trap door. It was time to check the formaldehyde levels on the tank he kept downstairs.
She was still there, waiting for him as she always was. Her pale skin had a greenish cast upon it from the chemicals used to preserve her body. The man placed a hand on the glass, wishing he could reach out to her. So many questions had run through his mind at the curious creature. Where did she come from? Had she always been half fish, or was this some sort of evolutionary development he had stumbled upon? His questions always melted away at the sight of her face. Daryl's eyes would drift toward her mouth, her plump lips as full and soft as if she were still alive. He could still hear her musical voice. The number of sleepless nights in which he could hear it ringing in his head was too high to count.
Was there a sort of medicine that could bring her back? Perhaps, but a mortal wouldn't be able to figure out something like that themselves, he decided as he jammed his hands into his lab coat pockets. My worldview is only that of a mere human. How could I possibly hope to be more? And what is the point if I can't? Can I really be alright with the fact that she is gone and there is nothing I can do about it? I will be no better than the simple fools that populate this village. Can I simply be happy getting by allowing my brain to be stifled? Giving into normalcy and embracing the concept that there are those still seeking knowledge?
Forget-Me-Not Valley wasn't exactly populated by geniuses. There were those who claimed to be experts at their studies – the bumbling twin brothers who fiddled with pyrotechnics, Kasey and Patrick Hildebrand, along with the stubborn, yet naïve researcher, Archeologist Jasper Carter. Their studies were a mere mockery to the time and effort Daryl spent on his research. The man slapped himself on the forehead at the memory of Professor Carter. The bumbling idiot made a habit of inviting himself over once a week for tea and snacks, no doubt an attempt to relieve himself of his research assistant's terrible cooking for a spell. Hearing the knock on his metal door, Daryl rolled his eyes and washed his hands. He turned toward the figure in the glass.
"Later, my love," he breathed, his fingers streaking the glass. It was the first time he had ever uttered the phrase aloud.
0o0o0o0
The researcher had a particular fondness for nautically themed things, Carter recalled as he was offered a teacup adorned with a sand dollar. That, and he always had a nice stash of orange jaffa cakes and buttery shortbreads that he adored. His dark eyes followed Daryl and when he had his back turned to get the teapot, Carter darted out his hand and promptly inhaled a few of the treats.
"Here we are," Daryl brought the porcelain teapot and set it on the table between them. "Darjeeling." His eyes darted to the hatch on his floor. If only Carter would leave, he would be able to spend some more time with her… It was best to get this visit over with; he had set out Carter's favorites in hopes that it would appease him and make him in a cheerier mood to leave.
"Ah, very nice," Carter nodded excitedly as his host poured the tea. He promptly dunked a shortbread biscuit into the hot beverage and savored the flavor, grateful that it wasn't curry.
"So, how are things at the excavation site?" Daryl took a sip from his tea and avoided leaning back in his chair. A relaxed attitude would make Carter want to linger too long.
"You know how it goes," the researcher let out a dry laugh, "lots of dirt and dust and not much to show for it. Well, that's the case most of the time." He reached into his bag with a proud smile. "I actually unearthed this artifact yesterday; found it in an old box. Neither me nor Flora can make any sense of it." He presented Daryl with a cloth wrapped parcel.
Figuring it was one an ancient soap dish or other useless novelty, he feigned interest as he removed the cover of the package. Upon seeing the contents, however, he found himself struggling to contain his excitement as he unwrapped the ancient tome. "I see… very curious." The book was bound in a leather that he did not recognize, and the language looked to be an ancient one. He felt an excited chill run down his spine as he deciphered the title written on the first page: Magick of the Night: Dark Spells. "If you don't mind… I can study it for a while and get back to you with my findings… although unfortunately, this doesn't look like it will be too terribly important. Nonetheless, I will get to work on it."
"Oh, would you?" Carter's eyes lit up.
"I'd be more than happy to," Daryl replied quickly, snapping the book shut. Eager to get to reading, he stood up. "Well, I suppose I better get started. These dead languages take some time to decipher, you know," he let out a soft chuckle, but it ended up coming out as more of a cackle.
"Ah, well, there's nothing wrong with taking a little bit of time to relax from our studies, eh?" Carter gave him a small grin, reaching for another jaffa cake.
Daryl responded by handing him the entire plate and gently ushering him out of the door. A bewildered Carter said nothing in response, but silently stood outside for a few minutes, munching on the sweets before heading somewhere quiet to hide from Flora.
0o0o0o0
Flipping through the pages excitedly, Daryl let out a satisfied chuckle. Dead languages are hard to decipher, pah! He quickly leafed through the contents of the book for anything mentioning necromancy. Hours flew by as he pored through the book, soaking in the information eagerly. It seemed that a familiar of some sort would be quite useful if he wanted to get into this field of study… His eyes flicked back to the chapter on raising the dead.
An assistant was necessary – absolutely necessary. The lovely lady downstairs wouldn't have to wait much longer. His stomach filled with giddy butterflies. This was what he had been searching for! This was the method for bringing her back!
He carefully lit the candles and carved the runes into his arm, using the blood to spell out the ancient glyphs. Murmuring the words to the oath in the yellowed pages, a cold rush of wind filled the lab and he could feel his unkempt hair standing on end as a darkness permeated the air.
"You called, and so I am here, your servant."
Daryl squinted through the murky fog, wiping his glasses. The thought of another being bound to him filled him with a great sense of power. Still, he could see his familiar nowhere. "Reveal yourself to me, servant!"
"I am here," the voice replied, feminine in nature, with a sharp bite. "If you wish, I can make myself into a form that you can better comprehend with your mortal brain."
The researcher cringed his nose at the implication that his intellect could not handle what he was looking at. Still, he managed to give a slight nod and the fog in the room condensed into the figure of a human. It was a young woman with wild blonde waves and glowing red eyes. There was something terrifying and beautiful about her at the same time. He stepped closer to her and reached out with his hand, touching her shoulder, as if to ask if she was really there and tangible. She jumped a bit in surprise and looked down at her own form in shock, her eyes widening as she recognized her old body. It had been so long since she had been in this state… As Daryl circled her curiously, she frowned as she touched her arms, her face, her torso – surely this was a form of punishment that her true master had in mind for her…
"What shall I call you?" Daryl asked curiously, taking a lock of her hair and running her fingers through it. For a demon, her hair was surprisingly soft. Very strange – he had much to learn about demons…
She abruptly snatched her hair back, giving him a dirty look. She didn't appreciate being stared at and prodded like some sort of laboratory specimen. "Call me whatever you like, I suppose. I am yours for the next twenty-four years, after all."
He bit his lip. Thinking of a name for his assistant wasn't something he was really expecting. "Well, what is your name, then?"
The woman gave a shrug, her blonde locks bouncing as she tossed them over her shoulders. "My true name is not one that mortals may speak. I am but a servant demon, but when I was human, I was a princess among witches." She let out a nostalgic sigh; if she had known she was to meet this fate, she would have shaken things up a bit more when she was alive…
"Princess among witches?" he repeated with a puzzled expression.
She let out a cackle, her memories of her deeds filling her with pride for a brief moment. "Yes. I used to strike fear into those who saw me. Poisonings, illnesses, bad weather, killings, I brought them all." Her voice faded as she realized this was the very reason why she had met her fate in the first place and the grin faded from her lips. "A few earthly pleasures and powers for an eternity of damnation… You do realize once our contract is up, you will meet the same fate, right? You will be trading your immortal soul for only twenty-four years on this Earth with me and enhanced knowledge. It's not exactly… happy where I live," she finished with a frown, her scarlet eyes reflecting an anguish that he had never seen another human bear. How could she possibly describe the deep despair that permeated her very being every moment she existed?
He was already confident that with his knowledge and power of magic alone, he would be able to find a method toward reaching immortality. He doubted he would even need the demon's help very much. "I don't care," Daryl replied firmly, the girl's melodious voice echoing in the recesses of his mind. They would be together soon enough, forever. "I have already damned myself by forming this pact, Witch Princess. What will be, will be – que sera, sera."
Shocked at his flippant answer, she scoffed. "Fine. You'll see that these years will go by quicker than you think, and then you will be his. I will be required to take you to your new home." When she was met with a snort, she realized that she didn't have much pity for him.
She shrugged once more. Que sera, sera.
0o0o0o0
Leia had been her name, and he couldn't think of a more beautiful, flowing name for her. The very letters sounded like music as he said them. He loved the way she sung his name; his heart would stop and immediately hammer in his throat, and he found himself unable to stay away from her side. He commanded his demon bring him a bucket of fresh fish every day, and he relished in watching Leia carefully eat the raw food, slowly getting stronger day by day. He soon learned that she seemed to be lacking something in her diet; her skin began to grow paler and her hair grew limp, her body language becoming lethargic. Despite this, she sang more than ever, looking at Daryl with hooded eyes.
"Oh, Daryl~ you make me so very happy~!" Leia's voice rang out as she leaned over the edge of the tub weakly. "Why don't you come a little closer so I can properly thank you~?" Her voice echoed through the lab, ethereal and wild, yet beautiful.
The Witch Princess shook her head as she watched Daryl's pupils dilate at the sound. He set down his pen and left her to the research. "Ah, I-I'm coming," he quickly hurried to the side of the tub to attend to her.
The demon shook her head as she watched the mermaid cup his face with her damp hands and pull him into a deep kiss. She watched him writhe in pain for a moment and stared curiously; from what she remembered in her experiences, kisses weren't supposed to hurt. Leia's tail slapped the water with a large splash of excitement as she pulled him into a tight embrace. Daryl broke off the kiss and the Witch Princess's eyes widened with understanding as she watched the mermaid lick the blood from her lips.
"What's the matter, darling~? Come on into the tub with me~…" Her pupils were narrow slits as she carefully cleaned off her mouth, eyeing him up the way a predator does one's prey. "I can thank you some more…"
If Daryl had a sound mind, he would have stayed as far away from that pool of water as he possibly could. He found himself powerless as he gripped the edge of the tub, preparing to climb in after his love. He wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen, but he was willing to find out… for science, of course.
The Witch Princess couldn't believe she was doing this; maybe it was better letting him go this way. She shook her head. Part of the contract was that he must live out the full twenty-four years; it was her responsibility to watch over him until them. Besides, she was starting to get some ideas of her own… She roughly grabbed him by the shoulder and jarred him back, a very hungry Leia wailing as she clawed for him with desperate arms.
"I don't think so," the Witch Princess replied curtly, shaking her bouncy blonde waves. This elicited a piercing cry from Leia that broke a few flasks in the lab. The demon dug through the cupboards of ingredients and produced a vial of human blood, pouring it into a glass and handing it to the mermaid. "I won't have you eating my partner." After all, a shortened contract meant that she would have to return to where she came from sooner. The Witch Princess let out a sigh; she hated that such a miserable place was what she had to refer to as home.
Leia touched the beverage to her lips and wrinkled her nose in displeasure. The blood of those she had charmed was much sweeter. She threw the glass to the ground and it shattered loudly as she let out a shriek. She was not going to be forced to live in this small tub and fed such swill!
"Why, you ungrateful little-! You want someone in that tub so badly?" The Witch Princess threw off her shawl and stormed to the pool of water, leaning over the edge. "Don't make me come in there for you!" she taunted.
The mermaid tugged her by the hair in response and she let out a yelp as she was pulled into the water. A paralyzed and dazed Daryl watched with dilated pupils as the two thrashed about, splashing the contents of the tub all over the lab. It was only a matter of time until Leia realized the true strength of a demon's powers, gasping for breath as she was suspended mid-air while the Witch Princess climbed out of the tub, squeezing the water out of her hair. She peered over at Daryl, who was staring blankly at the wall with dazed eyes; Leia's high shrieks had him out for the count. The demon tended to him, tucking him into bed before returning to the pale mermaid. She flung the creature back into the tub violently, Leia crying as she struggled for breath. She let out a gasp as a bucket of water was dumped over her head; the Witch Princess was refilling the tub for her.
"You are not to harm Daryl beyond repair, you hear me?" The Witch Princess glared at her with glowing red orbs. "I don't care if you need to feed. I wouldn't let you live unless it was for the fact that you're the reason he's seeking immortality, so be a good girl. Be content with your silly little kisses." She condescendingly patted her on the head.
Leia bared her sharp teeth as she snatched her arm and bit into it hard, causing the Witch Princess to laugh. The mermaid's eyes widened as it felt like acid was pouring down her throat; she had never tasted something so foul... She leaned over the tub, her stomach immediately ill from the demon's blood as she retched. The Witch Princess ran her fingers over the wound, sealing it with a smirk.
"Don't ask him to come into that tub again, or you will face me. Next time, I won't be so playful."
0o0o0o0
Daryl was walking back to the lab with a basketful of herbs he had collected in the valley. Throughout the years, he had allowed the Witch Princess to watch over Leia for a short time, but he had noticed increased arguments between the two as of late. Not wanting the demon to harm his precious love, he kept his outings short. He hurried along the dirt path, stumbling over a small bump. He caught himself at the last moment, checking the contents of his basket when he heard a tiny voice.
"Daryl Faustus!"
The researcher's eyes flew to the dirt, and a small creature dusted off his red jacket and straightened his pointy hat. His eyes widened in amazement; he had heard that the harvest sprites only existed in fairy tales. Too surprised to apologize for tripping over him, Daryl simply stared.
A little miffed that he was going to have a nasty bruise on his knee later without so much as an "I'm sorry", the sprite stood up straight. "I come to deliver you a message from the gods."
"Pah," Daryl dismissed the sprite's words with the wave of a hand. "I have no use for the gods, and they have none for me. I have already entered a contract and my soul no longer belongs to them."
"It is never too late if you will repent, Faustus. Renounce your contract and come back to us," the sprite pleaded, jogging to catch up with the man's much longer legs.
He froze in place as a wave of guilt welled up in his heart, but he quickly pushed it down. If the gods truly cared about him, they wouldn't have allowed Leia to die in the first place. He had brought her back completely by himself, and it was by his hand alone that he was able to find happiness. "Begone!" He picked up his walking pace, hoping the speed would be too much for the sprite's tiny legs. "I have nothing more to say to you."
"Just remember, Daryl… you can always change your mind."
He slammed his door in the sprite's face. He didn't need to change his mind if he was going to live forever, anyway. His soul would belong to no one. He and Leia would live here forever.
0o0o0o0
Nearly twenty-four years passed in the blink of an eye. The Witch Princess stirred in bed and glanced over at the back of Daryl's messy black head with a frown. He had become less and less motivated to work on his quest for immortality throughout the years and she found that she was filled with fear. She trembled as she thought about what waited for her when her assignment was over; her true master was far from forgiving and kind, and the thought of returning to her constant state of agony and suffering filled her with a paralyzing dread. She found herself bursting into tears from time to time, and Daryl quickly attended to her with curiosity, more interested about how demons could begin shedding tears than the Witch Princess's state of mind.
The fact that he hadn't aged a day since taking up the pact was likely the reason why he wasn't so concerned about his studies. If they could manage to find immortality, then Daryl could live here forever… and she could stay at his side, as bound by the contract… There would be no more pain and torment. Daryl had his faults, of course, but she couldn't help but admit she felt safe here. She almost didn't mind Leia that much anymore; the mermaid demanded her regular sessions with the researcher a few times a day, and sometimes it even seemed to reinvigorate his desire to pursue immortality. A faint light of something glowed in her heart. It was such an old and faraway feeling that she had forgotten it existed; she hadn't even felt it much when she was human…
Hope?
She wrapped her trembling arms around the sleeping man's waist, burying her face into his back. Somewhere along the line, she had felt a heart beating in her chest again. It had become about more than escaping her inevitable fate that awaited her. She recalled Daryl teaching her about different flasks and ingredients, their gentle laughter over her butchering of the pronunciations of the scientific words in their text, the way he regularly brought her little boxes of her favorite pistachio Turkish delight even after she explained that demons had no need for earthly food. She had come to genuinely care about this man despite his faults. She held him tighter and he rolled over, weakly draping an arm over her before falling back asleep.
Maybe they could live like this forever, she thought. Perhaps there was a way if they kept trying… She felt her eyes well up with tears again; this had been happening nearly daily now and she tried to sort out the feelings in her once non-existent heart.
He pulled her closer in his sleep, and a strange warm feeling overwhelmed her. She remembered the warmth of a friend's embrace and forgot for the moment that she was a demon. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh, deciding she liked it.
"Oh, my sweet Leia…" he slurred, snoring abruptly.
The Witch Princess bit back a chuckle and nuzzled against him. For a famed researcher, he really was an idiot, allowing himself to be charmed by a lower life form. Perhaps she was a fool as well…
0o0o0o0
"Hurry, Daryl, take me to the ocean," Leia cried desperately, clawing at the edge of the tub. "Don't leave me here! Don't be so cruel to me!"
"Don't be silly, my dear," he replied, his voice quavering, "Once I get this concoction finished, I will drink the elixir of life and the three of us will live here happily forever. I only need to get the right combination. It will glow a brilliant gold when it's ready, just like our bright, happy years together in the future!"
The mermaid cried out in despair. "You said that years ago! Please, let me go to the water so I can live!" The idea of starving to death if he was gone was not exactly a happy one.
Daryl leaned over the tub and placed a kiss on her lips and he frowned when he noticed she didn't have her usual zeal. Leia turned her head away in frustration. "Leia, my darling, please don't fret…"
The Witch Princess was juggling an armload of vials. "Faustus, if you really care about that silly fish lady, you'll get over here and help me!" She swore as one of the tubes slipped out of her arms and landed with a crash onto the floor.
He rolled his eyes at the clumsy demon. If he didn't know any better, he would think that she was worried. "There's nothing to concern yourself with, my dear Leia. I'll take care of this; I think I'm on the verge of a breakthrough, really," Daryl laughed, walking back over to the work bench.
"It is time…" A deep voice echoed through the lab.
Daryl felt a violent cold wave through his very being. Twenty-four years had passed so quickly. Paralyzed in fear, he tipped over the beaker he was holding, the contents spilling across the table. His eyes whirled around the room, oblivious to the fluid dripping onto the floor in the Witch Princess's puddle, a beautiful mixture of liquid gold soaking into the wooden planks. "Who said that?"
The Witch Princess slouched her trembling shoulders. "M-my… m-master…" Tears sprang from her eyes and her knees gave out as she fell to the floor, suddenly aware of the true agony that had been waiting to come into fruition, particularly for her.
"Mephistopheles, bring him to me." The voice was like a ghostly whisper, chilling the three hearts in the room.
"M-master…" The Witch Princess clutched a hand to her breast, her breathing labored. She ached to plead with him to not have to follow through, but she realized now that this was simply another part of her torment for being condemned. She had learned to love and care for another, and she understood with bitter tears that this had been her master's true intention all along, to remind her of what she had given up so it could be snatched from her once again.
Curse magic! Curse our selfish pride! Why do we long to fly into the sun when we know it will only burn us in the end?
He was losing patience with his servant. "Bring him to me now."
She let out a strangled cry as she looked at Daryl, who was wide-eyed, his mouth agape. He couldn't comprehend that his time had come. She threw her arms around him, struggling to fight back her sobs. "I-it's time to go now, Daryl…" She tucked her blonde locks behind her ear and wiped away her tears, planting a chaste kiss on his lips, her once cold heart now hammering in her chest painfully. Curse human emotions and love! "M-my dear friend…"
He blinked in surprise. "B-but we're going to be together, the three of us!" He thought of the daydreams he had used to pass the time – him and the Witch Princess working on experiments while Leia watched curiously from her tub, offering a sweet song or two…
She shook her head and buried her face into the crook of his neck. "You and I will be together always… b-but I didn't want it to be like this…" she choked, unable to contain her feelings any longer. Eternal damnation was unbearable; eternal damnation with a friend she had drug down herself would tear her soul into shreds.
"Insolent fool!" the voice seethed, growing impatient. "Come now, and bring him with you!"
The words registered with Daryl as he stiffened his posture with a gasp before losing all mobility, crumpling into a heap onto the ground. The words of the Harvest Sprite rang into his head. He knew there was no time left, but it wouldn't hurt to try… "I-I renounce the pact! Oh, I-I was a fool! Oh, gods, save me!" his broken voice cried out. How could he have been so blind? An eternity of misery awaited him for a few golden years on this Earth. He could hear Leia's awful shrieking in the background as she flailed in the tub restlessly, her voice hoarse and haggard, unlike anything he had heard before. He glanced over at her and stared at her curiously; she was a sickly pale, naked woman with a slimy fish tail and rows of sharp teeth in her mouth, her pupils mere slits as she thrashed about wildly. Had she always looked like that?
He knew his change of heart was too late as he heard a soft cry from the demon's throat as a ring of crackling flames adorned his lab floor, a dark portal opening for them that filled the air with a deeper chill than anything he had ever felt, despite the burning fire around them. She looked up at him silently for a moment, the fiery glowing of her eyes gone, her hair limp, her face pink and puffy from crying. She looked so… human.
"What art thou, Faustus, but a man condemned to die," the Witch Princess murmured through sobs, "and I, a demon who was made to suffer? C-Come, friend…" She pulled him close and pressed her lips against his as she pulled him through the darkness, relishing the last moment of comfort either of them would ever have again.
0o0o0o0
Carter hobbled on his cane toward the excavation site. His wife was surely waiting for him at home with a large pot of curry. The old man let out an airy laugh; he could remember a time where he couldn't stand the stuff. He walked along the dirt path, breathing in the fragrant spring air. Nothing beat beautiful days like this, and he couldn't wait to go home and hold Flora in his arms…
A book. A tome with strange bindings and unfamiliar letters. He had lent it to Daryl decades ago and hadn't seen him since. He shook his head. At what point had had he forgotten about an old colleague, and why did the memory stick out so clearly in his mind all of a sudden? He frowned as he wandered toward the old lab, cursing himself for simply forgetting about the man's existence.
The memories of tea and sweets danced through his head as he knocked on the door. Perhaps Daryl would be happy to see an old friend. He salivated at the thought of orange jaffa cakes as he knocked on the door. Upon knocking, the door swung open with a loud creak, the lights burnt out, and books strewn about the room. Perhaps Daryl had moved… He carefully stepped through the room, curious to see if there was a clue where he had gone. It wasn't long until he had discovered the hatch to the basement hanging open. He lit a candle and climbed downstairs to investigate.
He called out his friend's name and wasn't all that surprised when he didn't get a reply. Glass crunched under his boots as he stepped across the floor observing a table of lab equipment. A large scorch mark dominated the floor and a sinking feeling hit Carter's stomach. Had there been an accident? He walked a bit further and gasped at what he saw. In an empty bathtub was a mummified body, but something was horribly wrong with the bottom half – it almost looked like a fish…
Carter let out a scream in horror and scrambled back upstairs, slamming the door behind him, unable to register what exactly he had seen.
A messy table of flasks, the corpse of the woman he had been so desperate to bring back… There was not much to show for Daryl Faustus's twenty-four years of enhanced intelligence but waste. Faded dreams were cast by the wayside in favor of the foolish pride that he would be able to do it all, that he would become a god himself. The results were there, plain to see.
An intelligent mind soars high above the clouds like a pair of gilded wings. But even the most beautiful feathers are not immune to the heat of the sun.
Or the fiery pit.
0o0o0o0
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! So, I took quite a few creative liberties with this one. Doctor Faustus is based on the folk tale of Stingy Jack, so I'm calling it a fairy tale. I had a lot of fun writing this one, and I ended up using a lot of characters who don't get much screen time. I truly hoped that you enjoyed! Feel free to let me know what you think!