Disclaimer: Dr. Faustus belongs to Ch. Marlowe. Title taken from Shaman King.
I do confess it Faustus, and rejoice.
'Twas I, that when thou wert i' the way to heven
Damned by the passage. When thou took'st the book
To view the Scriptures, then I turned the leaves
And led thine eye.
What, weep'st thou! 'Tis too late, despair, farewell!
Fools that will laugh on earth, most weep in hell.
"It was I." I whisper in the dark, remembering, and hoping my voice reached that man; that lost soul; my dearest Faustus.
Merely a decade had passed by, and already my body craved for him. His touch was a drug to my senses, and I had become an addict by the time I turned him in to his fate. It had been my plan all along; to give him in to Lucifer. I had been watching him since before that, years into the past, when I first met the little angel.
"You dropped this." I turned around to find myself staring at two brilliant sapphires, smiling innocently at me. At first I thought there might be someone behind me—surely he couldn't see me; not a demon—but realised I was in the wrong when he stretched his hand to give me back my flute, or rather, the Piper's flute.
I took the object uncertain. I was almost sure I had infiltrated the academy invisible, as a spirit, so there was no possible way this kid could differentiate my figure from that of thin air. Yet, he had.
After a long moment of silence, making it apparent that neither of the two would speak, the tiny boy smiled again before running back to the library were he spent most of his days.
Before that day, I thought it impossible for a devil such as myself, to be capable of feeling the single emotion that separated us from humans and angels: love. But I could feel it, deep inside my chest; and suddenly the noisy beating of my heart had become too much to bear. I had cried rivers of blood, since there were no such things as tears in the underworld. And it hurt; it was so terribly painful, that no eternity in hell could compare to such suffering.
I wanted him. I needed him. And I was going to get him
I watched him for the years that followed; memorizing every breath, every step, every word he ever spoke. My mind felt so full, but there was always more room for Faustus.
Even just thinking of the name makes my heart stop and my back arch in pleasure. There was no method to express the joy I felt once my plan gave fruit and I was made to spend 24 years with him. He wouldn't touch me—ever—unless he was forced to; he must have known the danger I posed to whatever purity he had left. But just being with him was enough to satisfy me. It didn't matter with how many women he slept with, one after the other, they would find themselves dead by morning, once Faustus had had enough of their services.
Wretched women who dared to try to take away my angel.
But now I was back where I started. Faustus had surpassed his time on Earth, and he was thrown into hell to finish his sentence. I was allowed to see him, of course, but how could I face him begging me again to free him.
O thou bewitching fiend, 'twas thy temptation
Hath robbed me of eternal happiness.
I didn't dare. Not to see him hate me.
How ironic; me, the great demon Mephostophilis, afraid of the wrath of a human? Disgraceful. Let Lucifer punish my tender heart, and feed it to the never-ending flames of his kingdom! I deserve not to keep my title, nor the right to call myself a devil.
I sat up in my bed and looked around at my riches. In Earth I might have been a slave to a human, and that human to my master, but here in hell, I was a prince. Just this bedroom of my palace was dressed in the finest gifts from all seven dimensions; gifts as useless to myself as they had been to my lord. Just the silk I was lying on might have made anyone in this side of the abyss rise in rank, but they did nothing to keep the warmth at bay, so to me they were nothing but old rags I would change for something far sweeter, softer, and more alive; like the skin of my beloved.
A shiver ran down my back at the thought.
If only I could have him…
Suddenly, realisation struck me, sending adrenaline through my body. I jumped from the round bed only wearing a pair of sweats—here in hell, modesty isn't an issue. I hadn't been to the prisons in a century, but I was sure my legs still knew the way.
I ran as fast as doubt would carry me, hesitation kicking in from time to time, until finally, I made it to the tall, black building just in the middle of Sixth Layer. I struggled to settle down before entering so as to not raise suspicion. I found it hard to believe that anyone would try to stop me, but let one word spill to Lucifer, and it was all over—at least for Faustus.
I walked in calmly past the guards who made no attempt to block my way, and had no trouble finding the cell I was looking for. It was past a long corridor and two pairs of staircases, down in the basement, where the only light came from the torch I was carrying. It was a lonely place to be, away from all the other lost souls, but I knew he would like it better that way.
As I came closer to the chained figure lying against the far wall, I had to suppress gasp at the sight of such perfection.
He was bear naked; prisoners weren't allowed to have any material possessions. I knew he had been tortured on and off since he had first arrived, but as was expected, his body was intact; as pale as it had ever been, smooth and flawless. His dark hair fell to his face in greasy strands that only made it shine the more; magnificent. The only sorry sight to see was his eyes. All life had been drained off them; what once had been an immense, blue sky of knowledge, was now two gray clouds that couldn't recognise anything past them.
I trembled, wondering if there was anything left in this empty corpse that remotely resembled my Faustus.
Determined to at least run my hands through his body, at least once, I kneeled before him, caressing his cheek, and softly whispered.
"Faustus." There was no response. "My love." This made him look up. His stare was cold and drained of all emotion, but I knew he somehow saw me; he knew who I was.
I hadn't anything more to say. I had expected him to jump and swing at me, or to start yelling and cursing my name. But nothing happened. He stayed still as any other corpse would have it, eyes always fixed on me.
At the loss of words, all I could thing of was his skin and how perfectly pleasant it felt to the touch. My fingers moved from his cheek to the rest of his face; exploring, remembering. Then they went further down to his chest, smooth as the rest of him. They moved to the arms, and finally settled on the scar, the mark of our contract. The memory of our time together.
"Homo fuge; fly man." I muttered as more memories filled my head. I turned my gaze back at him and chuckled. "It's ironic, isn't it?" I said as I brushed some hairs away from his face. "You are as far away from the sky as you could get." I pushed his shoulder to one side so he could be lying on his back; he didn't respond. Next, I straddled him; I was light enough that I wouldn't hurt him. I leaned in over him, letting my elbows carry the rest of my weight on each side of his head. Our faces were close enough now, that I could feel his cold breath against me. My long, maroon hair fell like feathers over his eyes but he didn't blink once. When I was comfortable enough, I spoke up again. "But don't worry; I'll help you reach that height."
I thought I saw his eyes widen, if only a bit, when I finally leaned in and closed the gap between us.
I felt like I was back in Heaven when he started kissing back.
Yes, I know the summary is a little off, but my inspiration is about ground level at the moment so I couldn't come up with a better one.
I wrote this a while ago, and I actually published it first on even tho it's not an original story. Personally, I like how it came out, but then agian, it's probably my lack of inspiration talking since I can't seem to write much of anything as of late. Favorite play so far.
Hope you enjoyed it. Please review :3