Die Tragödie von Johann Faust VIII
Hey, how are you all doing? I'm fine myself. To begin this chapter, I shall indulge in shameless self advertising and promotion. If any of you happen to be a Naruto fan, then I'd like to ask you if you would please read my other story, Betray Me Not My Grave. I know, the title is a bit cheap, however, the story has been stewing in my mind for a while now and I feel the need to get it out. Heh. Now, let us begin the next chapter for this story!
Your right morningstripe, Mephisto was being gross. However, I found his, how shall we say, seductive attitude to be necessary to show his lack of restraint and such. This story is not promoting yaio, I assure you. Thank you.
Chapter 6:
Faust felt water dripping down his forehead. It was annoying him to no end, however, he couldn't seem to get away from it. No matter the way he turned, or if he tried to block the water with his arm, it found a way to attack his exposed forehead.
Finally, he opened his eyes. There stood Esther above him, holding a water bottle so that the nozzle was pointed down on him.
" Good morning, sir." The young lady said, not moving the bottle so that it were to drip elsewhere.
Last night, Faust had given in to the spoiled creature and taken her to the movies. They had had to sneak in thorough the back because neither had the money to pay for tickets. The movie itself had been rather boring in Faust's opinion. It was about a group of kids, he didn't remember exactly what happened. He didn't really care, it followed the same plot as any other movie. A group of people are trying to stay alive whilst something hunts them down, and to strengthen the plot, they can't work together due to sexual tension. Truly boring.
He had spent the time thinking about his beloved. Her smile, her laugh. The way her hair shined in the sunlight as she danced on the pavement. How she would always get teary eyed and over joyous every time he brought her a bouquet of flowers. He rarely ever brought her roses, mostly carnations and lilies. They were her favorites.
But he couldn't dwell on his love for long, the movie had finished and Esther wanted to go home. She said she was too tired to walk and demanded Faust carry her. He would not, but he knew she wouldn't walk on her own, and he couldn't just leave her behind. So, he summoned one of the dead. He had meant to terrify her by having the skeleton carry her, however, it didn't work.
She had seemed at ease riding on the back of a pile of bones. Mephisto's fault, Faust concluded.
The skeleton itself had come from the tombs nearby. He had summoned one of them to stand watch by the theater, just incase a shaman wished to do battle. He didn't like the Americas, there were far too many people who had contact with the dead just roaming around. Modern day nomads, Faust though, ravaging the land and destroying any who got in there way.
He was somewhat like them. Anything for loves sake. Even death. However, he didn't kill unless he needed to. It was his way. He knew Eliza would not be pleased if he murdered any he chanced upon.
But back to the point, the Americas were quite bountiful in shamans. And unlike other countries, they didn't wish to befriend others, they wished to conquer them. Hey believed themselves to be the most powerful, and would attempt to kill anyone who was seen as a threat to that power, and Faust knew he would be considered a threat. He didn't want to fight. He was too weary, too upset. He didn't dare fight in this condition, it did nothing but bode ill for any and all onlookers. As well as the opponent.
When they arrived home, to Esther's home, no place was his home. Not any longer.
When they arrived, Faust collapsed on the floor, more from sorrow than fatigue. He cried himself to sleep as Esther hummed a tune to herself while doing God-knows-what. Faust hurt. Oh he hurt. He missed his beloved and it was tearing him up. He wanted to die. There was no way he could continue doing what Mephisto wanted, no way. He just, wanted to give up.
He couldn't. He quite literally couldn't. For him, it truly was impossible to give up on Eliza. He had told himself for so long that he could do it, that he would save her. So that now, even when he wanted to quit, he knew he couldn't.
'Oh Eliza! Eliza, my love! I wish to be freed from this burden, to be freed from this sorrow! I still love you, but you are dead! You died! Why? I cannot live with ought you!'
That was what Faust's soul cried out as he slipped into a comforting sleep. Sleep was his only escape, and sometimes the haven betrayed him by allowing that thing he prized the most into it. It let Eliza come in. It let him bask in her radiance. He didn't want to see that beauty when he knew he could not reach it, but he did not want to abandon it, either.
He was caught up in a paradox that was so sinful it was near blasphemy. He could not leave, even when he wanted to, because for love he stayed, but to prove love he must go. Eliza would not want him to hurt, but would she want him to leave and give up on her?
" Eliza…" He whispered as he feel into sweet oblivion for the night.
" Who is Eliza?" Esther asked as she stared at Faust.
" Close that bottle. The water is bothering me."
" The water woke you up."
" I didn't want to wake up."
" Because Eliza?"
" How do you know about Eliza?"
"You said her name last night."
" I did not."
" You did."
" I don't take correction from little girls."
" I'm not a little girl."
" Fine then. I don't take correction from little teenage girls."
" Perhaps you should."
" Perhaps you should stop bothering your elders."
" I would. But Mephisto said I could do anything I want, as long as I'm happy."
" Why would the devil want you to be happy?"
" Because I gave him my soul to be happy."
" That doesn't sound wise."
" You gave up your soul for Eliza."
" Who told you that?"
" You, in so many words."
" That's different."
" Why, you'll be happy if you have her, won't you?"
" Yes, but--"
" Then you are with him for the same reason." Faust scowled. She was right. He was working for Mephistopheles for the same reason that she sold him her soul.
" Just because I do it, does not mean it's wise." Faust muttered as he rose and headed for the bathroom. He needed to get away from the little pest. He needed morphine.
Ahh, yes, his sweet morphine. It had dulled the pain for so many years, why not now?
Faust took a needle out of his lab coat and filled it with the sweet substance. As he inserted the needle into his arm and emptied the contents, he felt blissful relief wash over him. His mind was numb, his body was numb, he felt nothing but a driving passion that never left him. The passion of his marriage, of his wife.
Suddenly, he was filled with new vigour and had the strength to continue on down the path of eternal damnation, all for Eliza. He did it all for Eliza.
" What did you do in there?" The Esther asked, who had been standing on one side of the door. She hadn't heard the toilet flush nor the sink turn on.
Faust smiled down on the little one, aware of his height.
" Where ist die skeleton from last night?" Faust asked her, in a strange sort of calm that the little girl had never heard before. It did not contain any hints of some under toned superiority nor confidence that she had heard hidden beneath the voices of so many. There was no sign of the anger the man had felt for her before. It was just, empty. Like he had no reason to be there, except that he was there.
however, his eyes told a different story. One that let her know that he did not care for her. He did not hate her, he simply did not care. She was merely one of the people he would come across on his journey to get to what he really wanted. And Esther had her suspicions that what he wanted, had something to do with a woman named Eliza.
" I, I buried him last night." She said quietly, suddenly afraid of the man. People or demons who were brimming with ego and emotions she could handle, but one such as him, who seemed far more humble than any priest, but more dangerous and quick to anger that a devil, she feared.
" Ah." He merely said, not voicing the question she had expected. 'Why?'. The man seemed to like asking her questions, but now he was eerily silent. She had buried the bones only to annoy the man, but he seemed as if he did not care, it was only a miniscule matter to him in the larger, cosmic, scheme of things.
" Sir." She murmured, terrified to speak. Who knew what a man like him could do. "Could you, could you please leave?"
Faust looked at her. He did not appear hurt, or even relieved. He just, looked. Then he turned around and opened the door. As he stepped out onto the front porch the early morning sun shined into the house and caused Esther to squint. Then the door closed.
Esther stood there till she couldn't see Faust in the window. He had headed down to main street. Vaguely, she wondered where he was going. He said he was from Germany, so where could he possibly be headed with such sure steps.
The cemetery! Yes. He was a necromancer, after all. It only made sense.
" I'm glad he's gone." She whispered, then turned around and crawled back in bed. She would wait for Mephisto to come and play with her.