Chapter 7:
Even though Mephistopheles had very limited understanding of time, or at least in the way mortals measured its passage, he still knew he hadn't been to this particular piece of nether space for a rather long time. He could, of course, have just summoned the object he was looking for to him without leaving the office, but he wanted to come here. He wanted to find that piece that could fill the missing gap inside of him. Sherwin seemed to remind him of how it was to be young, and free, and in love. He had hated love. It seemed to weaken the mind. So trying to keep true to his morals he let eons pass, and the wounds across, his back and his heart were still raw, but maybe today things would change and she could help him.
He reached into his suit pocket, retrieving a steel key, rusty and dented, but still usable. He turned to face the abyss and, with the steadfast assurance of one who had performed this act many times before, he stepped out into the void. He fell, feeling the lurch in his gut and the rush of repressed images once again, but it wasn't very far. See, the thing about gravity on the cosmic plane is, quite simply, it doesn't really exist. It's all a matter of mental notions of up and down.
Landing on the path, he smiled at the door. Of all the doors he could have chosen…
A small, white painted, wooden door. Its frame` the deep shade of plum she had always liked. He waited a long few seconds, a tiny eternity, before turning the key in the lock. The brass handle turned and the room beyond was bathed in the peculiar half-light of the void. He strode inside, surveying it, judging it.
A battered armchair beckoned, its scuffed leather upholstery ready to welcome him back. He walked past it, searching through the piles of detritus he had accumulated over the centuries. There it was, gathering dust in between two pillars of novels.
It was a dusting of her. Mephistopheles drew a bow across the strings. The violin sang, venting frustration in a wave of melancholic music. He played on, the lyrics pouring from his lips as the violin's soft music picked up speed and volume.
He smiled sadly, reminiscing over her. The one with hair as dark as the midnight sky. Her eyes, seeming to hold all the stars of the cosmos. He remembered the days they had spent drawing up elaborate blueprints for her grand creation. Those plans had all gone awry when she made several last minute additions. She had always been spontaneous like that. She had taken a perfectly good ape and decided it needed a rapid kick towards sentience. If She'd just taken time to rework the plan she would have seen that for such a move to be viable, it have would needed so much longer to craft itself. As it stood, she was left with a race of gibbering wrecks. He had tried to warn her, but she in all her stubbornness, wasn't ready to hear it.
She had always had that weakness. She loved to claim omniscience, but her all-seeing eyes were blind to flaws in her own creation. One particular flaw named Sherwin infact. "You know, Meph, I do regret what I did." The voice emerged, beckoned by the sound of the violin. His eyes widened a bit wrinkling at the corners. A grudge couldn't last forever she had to own up to it sooner or later. "Well, can't take it back now, can you?" "No… You're right, I can't. But would you at least have the courtesy of facing me?" Providence asked sweetly. "Why? So you don't have to be reminded of what's missing from this picture?" He retorted. "Ouch. That Hurts…" Providence cringed inwardly. "Not nearly as much as that knife did." "…Fair point." Providence agreed
Mephistopheles slumped into the armchair. He needed a break. She came up behind him putting her hands on his shoulders. She could feel him tense with anger and hatred, but he softened as his facade of hate towards her love dissolved. He finally let her fill the cracks in his yearning heart and mend him. It was her way of saying "I'm sorry."
She walked around and looked towards him "I believe staring at the back of your head was a improper form of communication." She looked no less beautiful than the day she was conceived as the conscious brainchild of the universe. He forgot how much he had loved the way her chocolatey skin complimented the dark void of the heavens. She literally was his universe as that was who had conceived her, but who had conceived him? All Mephistopheles could remember was the dark void of nothingness and loneliness which in needing to one up the other one created what he could only suppose to be himself.
Providence smiled. She had forgotten how she had loved the mysterious unknown and all the mystique that came with it. It would be and was the reason she loved him. He was her sentient embodiment of all she found mystery in. But in the end, they split. There love and differences of being the face of what would become good and evil, got in the way of the bigger tasks they were faced with. Like creating humanity.
"Meph, you never told me why you came." Providence probed. "I needed your help." He responded. "Well let's not have it go the same way it did when we tried creating humans." She let out a breathy titter and smiled. "You think I would really do that after waiting for so long to join you again? Please! So how can I be of assistance?"