The Faustian Love Bargain (COMPLETED)

Volume 2, Chapter 8

He wondered why when snowflakes fell, they would melt in seconds, and their beauty would disappear, as if they had never existed. When flowers wilted, was there a reason why they did? If beauty was so transient, why did it exist? He wished that he was not beautiful. He wished that he could see snowflakes pause in their midst of falling and touch flowers that would not wither in his touch. If the world was so simple, he would not find himself in his current situation. He would not find her across the cliff, opposite him, with a gun straight at him.

His anger at the world and at his life had dissipated with that single kiss. He looked around him and loved what he saw- shining city lights that exhibited the hope of modernisation, speeding cars with all the excellence that technology had brought and tall buildings that extended to the sky. These sights expressed the hope of science and progress. Yet, it was strange that with all this modern beauty around him, he wished that he could see the stars at night, that had been blinded by the city lights. The Faustian Bargain, he thought, did not only plague his soul. It plagued everyone and now, it had fell on Stella. She had traded her soul for revenge.

Pressing on the accelerator, he speeded towards Smith Corporation- the building that represented the taint of his blood. It was one in the morning and the security guard was surprised to see him running into the elevator. “Basement Five,” he said. “Voice recognised,” the elevator replied and it speeded downwards. 

The souleaters under his father tried to stop him as he teleported and sprinted past them. He found the entire group of men sitting around as they looked at the body of the girl, who laid unconscious on a metal table and was tied down by metal locks on her hands and feet. His father looked up and was shocked to see his son. Everyone was looking at him as he stood there. 

“Did you inform him about today?” Mr Aswald asked angrily.

“No. Why are you here, Nick?” Anthony picked up a scalpel when it was flung out of his hand.

“I think you have completely misunderstood me.” His father thrust Nick backwards and he hit a glass panel which cracked immediately into a thousand pieces.

“Go easy on the boy,” Mr Riravanja folded his arms, “He is still your son.”

Mr Carolle got up and offered Nick a hand, “We are not here to hurt you, our Prince. We are here to help you undo this curse afflicted upon you.”

“Ah, that cruel legend. How many more times must we kill this girl? Till she is no longer able to be reborn? She comes every two hundred years. A terrible annoyance,” Mr Riravanja sighed. Nick pushed Mr Carolle’s hand away and broke the metal locks on Stella. 

Mr Mousseur looked at Nick carefully. “Anthony, perhaps we should stop. Your son is stronger than you think.”

“You asked for her to be experimented,”Anthony replied.

“I did not ask her to be killed. Her powers are extraordinary. Of course, I say this with sympathy for the Aswalds and the Lees who have lost their heirs.” Mr Mousseur’s cold gaze remained on Nick Smith.

Anthony looked at his son with a certain amount of distaste. “Nick, I can provide you with all the humans you want to play with. Any number of cars you want to have fun in. Your only payment would be to leave this matter to me. This girl is dangerous. You know the legend. The girl dies. King Fredrick chose to marry Queen Cecilia and they lived happily ever after! The girl was sent from the heavens to inflict pain on you. I am doing this for your sake.”

Nick saw himself in his father. He remembered that he, too, had planned to experiment on Stella. 

“Don’t touch her,” he said calmly. He looked around at everyone’s faces- some of them looked concerned, others had a mocking gaze on him, while a few frowned at him. Which one of them had told him to come here? Who was the traitor of the group?

“Nothing is right or wrong in this world,” his father said, almost preachingly, “If we were to always care about morals, we shall never discover.” Then, turning to the callous aristocrats, he continued, “Let us not kill the girl as yet. I yearn for her soul but I shall wait for the greater good. Her ability to kill instantly fascinates me.” 

Anthony traced his fingers over the girl’s face, “She looks just like her mother. It’s a pity that they should both meet with unprecedented deaths.”