NOTE: Sorry guys this took so long to get up. What with school starting and marching band, I barely have any time for myself anymore! Anyway, here it is. Hope you like it. I took class time to do this, so appreciate my sacrifices for you all, my devoted fans!!

-Momo

DISCLAIMER: Shaman King is owned by Hiroyuki Takei, who is a God. This story is purely fan-made.

…GOD SAID…

He awoke. It was the sun peaking through the window in the kitchen that woke him. He felt dirty, wet, cold. Eyes fluttering in the light, he searched the ceiling for answers. Then, almost on cue, the events of the night before flashed violently through his mind like a train going off track. He caught his gasp in his throat and lay there, holding his breath, afraid to sit up and look at the mess he had made.

Finally, with whatever initiative, he willed his body to sit up, and with a push, he propped himself up against a chair at the table, and he stared absently at the semi-dried puddle of blood in which he sat…and slept in last night.

Shaking slightly, he almost unconsciously stood and, with a dazed fascination that horrified him, he picked up the bloody kitchen knife on the table lay. He blinked, feeling all around him the filth of death. His clothes clung to his back, wet with crimson thickness he knew all too well. He looked around him. Two familiar dead bodies lay on the tile. They were as white as the floor around them, both lying on their backs. Their eyes were rolled back into their heads, hair messed, deep gashes strewn over their bodies like flecks of straw. He bent down and knelt beside Laura, his mother-in-law. He felt numb as he stared at the dead body. He flipped the body over with a gentle push. This side was not pale, but an almost purple-red colour. The rest of the blood had settled to this side, as sugar would settle if not stirred into a glass of lemonade.

He stood once more and with such lack of feeling that he could not place, he began to clean up the mess he made. The bodies…he would bury them in the field about a mile down the road. It seemed proper, yet grotesque in the same. No one can know…no one.

When all was said and done, having buried the bodies and cleaned up for the most part, he got back into his pick-up and drove back to his house. He only now realized that he was very uncomfortable in his messy clothes, and any passer-by that might have seen him would have thought that he had…

…but he had, hadn't he?

He walked inside, locked the door behind him, and for a moment, he stared at the surroundings in the room. All seemed so alien now that he was alone. Alone. He felt an ache in his chest, his heart wrenching. Sighing too heavily for his lungs, he walked across into the kitchen once more and picked up the knife, which still lay on the table. He examined it for a moment, and with some hesitance, he went to the sink and tossed it in. He swallowed. It was the first time he had semi-intentionally killed anyone. Anything, at that. He was a doctor. He saved lives, not took them. He helped millions and millions with his unmatched skill of surgical mastery. Of course, he couldn't save everyone. No...he couldn't save everyone.

He made his way upstairs into his bathroom, where he intended to sit in the bath for the rest of the day. He stripped to the flesh, dropped the pile of dirty clothes on the floor, and as the water ran, filling the tub, he sat in the middle of the tiled room and hugged his knees. He knew now what it truly meant to be completely and utterly afraid. No. This was not fear. It was terror, despair. No one really knows the true meaning of those words. When your heart is bleeding on the inside, a hole slowly getting larger with every shaken breath you take. When your hands are cold and trembling so badly it begins to hurt. Despair was something that could be compared to no other feeling on the Earth. And then there was the terror. The unescapable panic rising slowly in the depths of his being. The cold, blackened chaos that was mounting in his soul. The fear. Was it fear? Could it be called fear? It was a feeling much greater than that.

"Horror..." he breathed. He looked over at the bathtub and recognized that it was near full. He shut off the water and climbed in, the warm water rising as he lay. He leaned on the side of the ivory tub and, neck deep in water, he closed his eyes.

"...'Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle; she died young...'"

"What a lovely poem..."

"It's Vebster."

"Webster? You say it's Webster?"

"Yes."

"How pretty..."

"Just like you, Eliza."

She blushed. He leant over and kissed her cheek tenderly, chuckling as she began to giggle.

"Johann, please Spooky," she started, grabbing her husband's hands and playfully pushing them away.

"Oh, you're calling me by the pet name, now, hm?" Faust replied, smiling and delivering another sweet kiss to Eliza's cheek. It was a warm afternoon and they had just moved into their new house. They were nearly unpacked, and they were curled up on the couch in the sun room, gazing out the large window in front of them. Eliza sighed. She leaned her head against Faust's chest.

"I love you," she sighed, gazing up at him.His eyes met hers.

"I love you too, Eliza," he said, wrapping his arms tight around her. He bent slightly and kissed her strawberry lips softly.

"I love you so much," he whispered against her kiss. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

"Mmm…Spooky…you make me blush," she replied in a breathy whisper to his jaw line. She kissed him lightly, making a trail leading all the way down to his chest to the seam of his open collared shirt. Faust leaned back and sighed happily, staring out into the grande vista that was displayed before him behind the glass. The sun was setting. Perfect, a perfect scene. Two lovers, alone together, enjoying the company of one another as the world was soon to be at rest around them. It couldn't get much better. Unless, of course...

"You know, my darling," Faust said, looking down at his wife. "The bath upstairs has built in jets...like a hot tub..." He smiled coyly. Eliza giggled and kissed his lips.

"Sounds like fun," she whispered, sliding her hands up his shirt. "Shall we?"

"Du haben meine herz," he replied. "Forever..."

He realized he had been sitting there in the water for a long time, thinking, remembering. He also realized that the water on his face was not from the bath. He wiped his eyes and sighed a shaky breath. Slowly, he climbed out of the tub and without even drying or draining it, he walked out of the room and into his bedroom, where he threw himself on the bed and cried into Eliza's pillow.

"Oh, meine liebe! Meine liebeling Eliza!" he wept. He buried his face deep into her pillow and screamed. He screamed and screamed and he didn't stop until he found it hard to breathe. He lifted his head, breathing hard and hiccuped breaths. The pillow was soaked with his wet hair and tears. He swallowed hard and glanced at the clock. It was already late afternoon. It was warm, hot outside. He sat up. The curtains were drawn, it was moderately dark in the room. Downstairs, Eliza's body lay cold and dead on a med table, covered nicely and preserved at a set temperature. It made him feel almost sick to know that he had not thought about granting her a proper burial yet. Perhaps he should bury her near her parents? He moaned. He couldn't let her go.

He put his hands to the sides of his head and rubbed his temples. His eyes wandered over to the bedside table where a bible lay. There was a book marker in it that he had never taken notice to before. He narrowed his eyes and stared at it. It was a crimson ribbon, fairly old looking, and he could see that there was a certain marking on it, but he couldn't make it out. It was too far inside the book. He reached for it and plucked the bookmark out. It was indeed VERY old. Red ribbon, and the marking...it was a pentagram with a large calligraphic "F" in the middle. There were thorny vines strewn about the the pentagram, flowing in and out of it. Faust swallowed. The old family seal of is ancestor's true side. The first Johann Faustus. He blinked slowly and flipped to the page where the bookmark had been. Revelation, the page with the woman and the dragon. Faust closed the Bible and placed it back on the table. He continued to stare at the mark for a long, long time.

"Faust the First," he said. "Why do you call to me now?"

Talk of his ancestor was verboten for him in his household, and pretty much everywhere he went in Germany. He never really knew too much about him, but what he did know, he did not choose to discuss. Being a Faust in itself was something that was surefire to make everyone hate you. He'd faced ridicule from the day he was born. And he'd even tried to change his name, go by an alias and hope for the best. But nothing worked...and yet, he'd survived. But now...

"Definitely no place for this," he said to the Bible, waving the bookmark. And just like that, a thought hit him like a bus at full speed.

Resurrect her.

It was like a sign from God. Use Faust the First's art of Necromancy to resurrect your beloved Eliza! Bring her back to be with her forever! Forever in love! Yes!

Before he could consider it, he was pulling on his pants and stumbling down the basement steps. He unlocked the door and a rush of musty like coolness hit him, blowing back a bit of his hair. He shut the door behind him and ran over to the medical table, but stopped dead in his tracks before he reached there. What on Earth was he thinking? He was really going insane. He looked down at the cement floor. Blood, little dried droplets of blood. Her blood. Eliza's blood. No. If there were any way, it had to be this way. If he couldn't save her by means of science, of all he knew, he would have to defy all he knew. He would do it for her. Anything for her.

He stood over her body, staring down into her lifeless eyes, the eyes that were once full of sparkle and shining emerald glints of beauty and happiness and, oh, the pain in his chest was so heavy as he looked down at her. He bent slowly and very, very softly, he kissed her forehead. His eyes filled with tears.

"Don't worry, my lovely Eliza," he whispered into her hair. "You and I will be together soon. I promise I will not fail you this time. I promise."

TBC

TRANSLATIONS:

Meine liebe! Meine liebling Eliza! - My love! My darling Eliza!

Du haben meine herz - You have my heart