I Pledge my Soul

Chapter 4- A rejection

Faustus sighed and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. At this rate he would never get home. What he wouldn't give for a good night's sleep in a comfy bed, rather than ten minute snoozes in his hard, pine desk chair and its threadbare cushion. Satan damn you, Edward Spellman, Faustus thought as he crossed out yet another line of text from a piece of parchment. Why did you have to be so controversial?

There was a knock at the door of the High Priest's office and Faustus granted entrance without looking up from his work. Prudence entered the office in a white nightgown, having been woken by the ringing of the bell at the school's front door.

'Sister Zelda Spellman is waiting outside Father. I said you weren't taking appointments but she told me it was incredibly urgent and couldn't wait.'

Faustus' heart jumped into his throat at the sound of the ginger witch's name and he quickly threw the documents he had been studying into a drawer, pulling the Dark Lord's Bible towards him and opening it to a random page.

Given their most recent interaction he had a feeling he knew what this was about, and he certainly didn't want Prudence to overhear anything that they might discuss. 'Bring her in and then you may retire again for the night.'

Prudence bowed her head in respect before leaving the office. Her figure was almost immediately replaced by that of Zelda, whose attire confirmed Faustus' suspicions regarding the purpose of the late night visit. As the witch stepped into the soft glow of the office, Faustus' eyes widened with lustful amazement and he quickly averted his gaze to look at the Bible in front of him in an effort to hide the desire that grew so evidently on his face. Of course she would turn up wearing precisely the outfit that would make his trousers suddenly feel two sizes too small. He read a line from the page in front of him: Satan represents man as just another animal. How fitting, Faustus thought, given his current desire to leap over the table and tear that damn dress off the witch and feast on the body it hid.

Faustus gripped his knee under the desk in an effort to compose himself. He had to assert his dominance from the outset if he wanted to maintain control of the situation, and he couldn't do that if he gave in to her with every flip of her hair. No, he remembered the games they used to play back in their years at the Academy. He wouldn't let her win this time around; wouldn't let her torment him the way she did. It was his turn now.

Taking a deep breath he forced himself to look up into those enchanting green eyes that seemed to dare him to take the next step, dare him to fall into her trap, dare him to expose himself in ways even his wife had never seen.

'And what brings you to the Academy at this unholy hour, Sister Zelda?'

Zelda smirked, swaying her hips as she made her way towards him, never breaking eye contact, already putting on the charms that got them into such a mess just over 400 years ago. 'Well, dear Father, I've put a little bit of thought into your... proposition... and I can't help but wonder. What exactly it would entail? Of course, you said an informal relationship to find relief- is that correct? But I believe, given the part I may choose to play in this so called relationship, I am quite within my rights to expect a slightly more detailed explanation.' She raised an eyebrow at this last part, studying his now impassive face as she tried to gauge his reaction.

Of course she was going to make him spell it out. She always loved to watch him squirm under her gaze as he was forced to explain his intentions; standing like a predator waiting for its prey to show signs of weakness. Well, not this time.

By this point Zelda had reached the other side of his desk and leaned over towards him, still wearing that damn smirk, and she cocked her head to one side, waiting for his next move. Faustus forced himself to stay focused on her face, it took all of his concentration not to let his eyes wander down to the place he knew would destroy all his self control. He slammed his Bible closed with a little more force than was perhaps necessary, satisfied with the startled jump Zelda gave in response.