A DARK HUMOR of Faust and Cecile | Teen Ink

A DARK HUMOR of Faust and Cecile

May 10, 2011
By Chungybob, Alpharetta, Georgia
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Chungybob, Alpharetta, Georgia
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Favorite Quote:
I like children--fried
-W.C. Fields

Author's note: A smattering and rabblings of stories that come together for some reason over a nice cup of dandelion tea.

The author's comments:
First Chapter


Stave 1. A New Arrival

The city was still bright with ecstasy as the more respectable citizens went to bed for another cheery day. The shops and cafes along the avenues and streets had long since boarded up. Shoppers, lovers, families had scurried back to their own warm beds. As one climbed higher up then the clean apartments, higher up then the never-ending light show of mega-skyscrapers stood proudly the mighty gilded clock tower among the clouds. The being was almost like a patriarch among the children of the land. The enormous dials mounted over a white face, 70, and 76 feet respectably were pointing to the silver numbers littered beyond the hands. Below the clocks, like a big sticker, digital signs were slapped on which, besides the time, broadcasted various advertisements, somewhat diminishing the magnificent surrounding area. If anyone had cared to look up at the southern face of the tower, that night, one would’ve seen a rare object was sitting upon the minute hand. If anyone had cared to listen carefully beyond the hum of distant vehicles and shouts, a soft noise…. Like a song transferred by the evening wind would’ve been heard. Under the blackness of the sky, the mammoth microwave cavity inside began the complicated process of emitting the gas mases on the hyperfine transition to operate the dials. As the field of the cavity oscillated, the longer titanium dial slowly began turn downwards 10 feet. Due to the natural forces of gravity, the strange little thing began to slide towards the sharp points at the end of the hand. Understandably not wanting to be skewered, the demon in the night pushed itself off and fell headfirst down and down and down. The cold air rushed past the object as it passed through the relaxed clouds and into the endless, shining bottom below.

It was now 1:15 Pm, July 17. 2376.
If anyone had changed their minds and looked upon the southern face, they would have seen only the time and a new commercial for genetically modified cucumber bananas. But if anyone had bothered to hear, they could’ve still heard the haunting, wistful song as it descended from the heavens at 90 miles per hour.

The Night had arrived in a city of lights and its inhabitants knew it. In this Age where they could have easily repelled such an evolutionary fear, still, they would flee safety top their own havens. No, they may not have been afraid of the black night itself, but the Night of shadows, deceit, and forbidding.. The cold Night that provoked the worst fears of one mortality and soul. That was what the simple ones really feared and so they ran away. But in a herd that escapes a hungry predator, there would always be stragglers. One prime example would’ve been the boozed young lady straggling across the left hand side walk down Techne 3rd Street. Wearing the latest fashion of a Fione Mood piece, the clothing had taken on a dark hue of blood red. The young lady was swinging to one side to another, giggling and hiccupping at the aftereffects of 27 to 28 glasses of strong Mars Purple Shots. She staggered and grasped the wall for support. As a college student of an institution that no one really cared about, she had spent a rather satisfactory evening partying with her friends at…….she tried to remember, gave up halfway, and decided it was time to head home to her run down apartment down the street. The street was deserted as she half-heartedly walked down the cracked sidewalks, cheap light from the lamp posts making long strange, dancing shadows from her figure. There was certainly no way for the intoxicated woman to travel any further. Especially when 2 gigantic hands had curled around her neck and dragged the surprised lady into the welcoming shadows of the alleyway.

Backed against the wall with a knife to her throat, life and fear finally sprang back to her eyes as a hulking thug pinned her down. The man wore a tattered cap. In the darkened alley, she could barely make out a dirty shirt and torn jeans. Standing almost 6 feet tall he had bended down to show his scar ridden face. Overall the most appropriate attire for such a man of his career.
He hissed menacingly,” Alright you drunken B****, Gimme all the dough and I won’t slit off your neck!”
Spit spluttered from his yellow and chipped teeth onto the petrified girl whose previous beet-red face had turned into a deathly pale. The young woman than realized that she had spent her card all on alcohol earlier, something she thought the thug would appreciate. Surrounded by garbage and graffiti, the carefree college girl regretted many things that were going to lead to her untimely, although appropriate death. She thought of how there would be news tomorrow of a body found in a dirty alley. Probably no one would care in this city. Not like the small town she had come from. Tears began streaming down upon the lady’s cheeks and she whimpered. The man, obviously unmoved by the pathetic display, prepared to carry out his threat and wait for a less pitiful target.
“Am I interrupting something♫?”
The two both looked up to see a short strange figure leaning against the wall….looking right back at them. It wore an old-fashioned top hat and cocked its head at them inquiringly. Covering the body was a long coat that seemed to distort the frame of its wearer. With its arms crossed in a peculiar manner, one hand clutched quite nonchalantly a small black suitcase. A void of blackness could be seen between the high collar and the hat. It seemed perfectly in tune with the world to happily chance upon a situation like a mugging. An awkward silence proceeded as the two tried to acknowledge that such an inappropriate figure was there. Finally, the thug registered that it could’ve been an actually human in front him.
“Who the f*** are you?!””
“No, the question is who are you? It seems quite suspicious that a tall man like you would wait all night long for a random girl and pull her in here….are you lonely inside? ♫” It was a voice that seemed to be having a time of its life.
The thug opened his mouth in a surprise….then remember he was a cold hearted criminal. He snarled and slammed the college girl against the wall. The she groaned and slumped against a dumpster. The thug ran forth with the knife to take care of the witness. Perhaps there was something valuable in that case.
Lunging at the relaxed figure, his eyes writhed with bloodthirstiness. His ugly mouth contorted into a nasty grimace and his hands tight around the knife. It would’ve probably had been far scarier if the figure hadn’t just sidestep and stuck out an outstretched leg inches from the incoming thug. Not possessing the balance of a ballerina, he tripped face first into the concrete ground. Screaming, the thug rolled over on the ground and dropped the knife. Clutching his bloody nose, he stared with intense loathing at the figure that had already lost interest and began to walk towards the unconscious girl.
“YOU SHITTY LITTLE BASTARD!” snarled the thug.
The shitty little bastard perked its head and a miniscule chuckle could be heard floating through the air.
“Sir, are you insecure♫?”
The annoying thing then proceeded to examine whether the lady was dead or not. Hearing the clang of a discarded can, the figure turned around to see the relentless goon running towards him with the tiresome knife. Sighing, the figure put the suitcase carefully next the lady. Seeing a chance, the thug stopped and hurled the knife through the air straight towards the head.
Flying through the air, it hit the flesh hard and true. There was a sickening crunch both could hear the sound of blade going through clothing, skin and bone.

The petty criminal stared at the mad monster that just nonchalantly raised its left hand and let the knife sink halfway through it. The loony looked genuinely surprised that a knife had just pierced through glove of the hand and proceeded to pull it out. Effortlessly. Silently.
Flinging the knife into the various garbage behind it, the figure looked curiously at its gloved hand which begun to flow out what appeared to be blood…Or at least that’s what it looked like. The figure then turned its attention from the spectacle towards the trembling man who didn’t appear to act like the gangsta he was supposed to be. The figure cocked its head ever so slightly to the right.
“Oh? You’re finished?”
The man began to back slowly out of the alleyway.
“Wonderful! My turn♫.”
The man stared in confusion. He blinked in anticipation and opened his eyes. In a flash, the figure appeared right in front of him. The thug screamed, the noise ringing out of the alley and into a deaf street as the figure calmly prepared for the finale. The monster in the hat pulled something from its coat and held it up to the fearful man’s face. Rattling in anticipation, the thug saw it beginning to shine and realized now was a great time to run. The thug tried with quite pitiful skill to run away but it was already too late. Way too late.
“What the FUU---,’’ were really the last words of that unsuccessful criminal. Not very poetic for a final ultimatum as the rattling object shined and the magic BEGIN.
Pure light flooded from the alley in a mighty heave. It erupted into the sky, passing the looming skyscrapers in a luminous beam. An immaculate substance as it was, it flew beyond the field of dirty lights. Beyond the clouds. Beyond even the Clock tower. Touching the stars, it dissipated into the Night air. The dark king had met a match that night. For the first time of a long millennia, a tinge of fear could be felt by the Night. A new arrival had arrived in its domain and there could only be opposition in the future. For the beam of light was a declaration of war. The college student who had experienced better days opened her eyes and groaned. It was still all shadows around her. A headache shot through her brain and slowly felt her head. As the pain started to racing through her, bile crawled up her throat. She stumbled up and puked among the rubbish. Her suit began to turn a sickly green as she tried to figure out why the headache was still there. Maybe from the early hangover or maybe being knocked out against a titanium wall. She gasped and twirled around, expecting the thug to come out and break her neck. She looked and peered into the darkness of the fearful alley. She turned to run out and turned straight into the figure in the hat and coat. She stared, debating of whether to run in the opposite direction or faint. She couldn’t see the face at all. There however was a annoying teasing voice that could be heard from below the hat.
“Are you okay”
The lady nodded numbly.
The figure beckoned her with his right hand, as he walked out of the alley with a suitcase in the other. She gingerly followed him out of the den of Night and breathed a sigh of relief as walked into the deserted but safe street.
“Well madame, do you know where the Gleemye High School is by any chance? I’m quite lost.” The figure looked questionly at her.
The college girl was startled by the casualness of speech and stammered,”oh….just go up the this street and cross into Norsefire Avenue….and turn right….”

The figure bowed slightly.
He then walked passed her without another word. Surprised at the abruptness of it all, she turned around to see her savior.
"Hey wait!---"'
But there was only the lamplights, illuminating the empty Techne 3rd Street at this usual time. Perhaps she was still drunk after all.

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