I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.
But this story is mine, all mine I say!
In the Absence of Light, Darkness Prevails
Farewell, My Soldier Boy
"There is a man waiting on the stoop downstairs."
Elsa moved her face from the healing sun and gazed at Massimo.
His eyes revealed nothing.
Finally, she spoke and her words were harsh and ugly, even to her ears.
"How wonderful for him to be able to move so independently."
Massimo did not acknowledge her biting, self-pitying statement. He simply removed his round eyeglasses and began cleaning them calmly with a small cloth.
Elsa decided she didn't care that he wasn't rising to her bitter hate. She would chew upon all by herself as she sat in the sun.
Then he spoke again.
"It's, uh, it's the man who brought you to me."
Her soldier boy. The one who had come to her for a little something special.
The one who had fallen in love with his whore.
And she was back there, in those hidden rooms. Wearing her skin tight leathers and her tiny veil.
Never letting any of them touch her, no, not one bit.
And dominating them, pushing the limits, seeing their ecstasy, seeing their pain.
Knowing she was the cause of it all made her sick.
And grimly satisfied.
The Watchers behind her, never speaking, never moving.
Like ghouls, masked demons bearing witness with eager, hungry eyes from the pits of foulest hell.
All I ever wanted to be was famous, a star. Something glamourous. Not that. Not wallowing in filth.
And that boy, that soldier boy. The one who had thanked her for making him sit on a toilet seat lined with rusty, sharpened nails.
The one who had followed her everywhere thereafter.
The one who rescued her after the monsters had left her all alone.
The one who should have left her to die.
"Send him away," she replied tonelessly.
Massimo hesitated before speaking.
"He has come back every day for a month inquiring as to your recovery and condition."
He, her self-sadistic soldier boy, was part of her past. A past she could never regain, even if she wanted to.
Which she did not.
He was a reminder of her ugliness, of her shame, of her humiliation.
She never wanted to see him again, never wanted to think of him again.
She chewed her lower lip and stared out at the afternoon sky.
Puffy white clouds lay before her.
She had never noticed them before. She had been busy looking down upon the twisted dredges of society to ever look up and see anything more.
Beyond the puffy clouds were darker, thicker, heavier clouds, promising downpours of rain to block out her healing sunlight.
And she made a decision.
"Tell him I died."
Massimo blinked in surprise.
"What?"
She refused to look at him.
"I do not want to see him. Ever again. I do not want him to return."
Massimo was silent.
"So tell him I died. An infection or something. Or tell him I threw myself off the roof in shame. I don't care. Make him go away, Massimo. Make him leave."
The tall man with his salt and pepper hair slowly placed his glasses back on his face and stood quiet for a moment.
"As you wish, cara mia."
When he returned, she was sipping her lemonade.
No tears had escaped her eyes and they were dry and clear once again.
"I told him died in your sleep from a sudden infection."
She did not reply.
"I told him your end was peaceful."
She did not look at him.
"I thanked him for trying to save you."
She sipped her lemonade.
"He asked me where you were to be buried and I told him your body was cremated."
And then she finally did look at him with empty, hollow eyes as he spoke his final words.
"He is gone."
She nodded and looked out again at the picturesque sky.
After standing quietly next to her for a span of time, sharing her vista, Massimo left her alone to herself.
She was glad.
She knew then that he was a better person than she.
And part of her hated him for it.
Elsa watched the people below from her perch up above.
They did not see her. They were unaware of her presence, her existence.
They moved to and fro, appearing from she knew not where, heading toward she knew not where.
Some were dressed quite shabbily and some appeared a bit more well to do.
But on they walked, walked, while she could do nothing but sit and watch them pass by on their way to their lives.
Taking no notice of her at all.
She was dead to the world, to everyone.
Even to herself.
She watched them attend to their lives, unaware of her ongoing misery and suffering.
And she hated them.
She could drop clay pots down upon them, breaking their skulls open and they'd never know she was there.
She wanted to.
She hated them.
They could walk and she could not.
They could run and she could not.
They could dance and she could not.
They could love and she could not.
She was a deformed, crippled creature and they were not.
And she hated them with a fury so black it nearly made her skin smoke with the intensity of it.
Massimo was within, at work at his table.
If she called out to him, even in a whisper voice, he would hear and immediately come to her side, ready to serve.
His unwavering patience seemed beyond human to her.
And she remembered when she had first awoken on the table, cold and drained and trembling in her new found shame.
She remembered their exchange.
I will never be beautiful again.
But your legs will be beautiful.
Legs.
He was making her legs, carving them out slowly, meticulously, out of blocks of wood. Chipping away little by little.
She scoffed inwardly.
They barely resembled legs at all, only perhaps so to a blind man with drunk heart.
But she could not deny, even to herself, the meek, tentative rise of hope beginning to take root in her.
He making her legs.
He was going to teach her to walk.
He was going to give her beauty again.
And freedom.
And life.
She scoffed again, wishing for a cigarette, wishing for a drink, wishing for anything but what she had.
And thought.
He was going to make her legs.
So he said.
Oh my fantastic readers, I can't express how happy it makes me to see you willing to give this story a try! Thank you so much! :D
Thanks especially to brigid1318, Jurana Keri, MaverickPaxaPunch, JavierCervantes, Gracious Guest, and mystery guest for reviewing this new tale.
Thanks to YellowBrickQueen and lalaleigh for adding your support as well.
And thank you, silent readers. I hope you enjoy this too. :)