Praise Satan

Chapter 2

𝒯𝓊𝑒𝓈𝒹𝒶𝓎

Zelda's pov :
I was sitting at the breakfast table, going along with the usual routine. Eat my soggy toast that's far too sweet, wash it down with some tea and fix everything with a cigarette and some whiskey. All was fine until the phone rang. I answered as Hilda was cooking bacon for Ambrose. "Spellman sisters mortuary this is Zelda" is what I said. That's what I always say. Instead of the usual response which tends to be 'oh hello *sniffle* I was wondering if I could arrange a funeral' , the response I received was "sister Zelda is that you? It's Faustus. Faustus Blackwood". My heart skipped a beat. I went silent for a good few awkward seconds during the phone call. Hilda turned and looked at me with a face that said 'who is it and why are you so quiet?' I quickly tried to gather my thoughts and said "yes it's me. I heard you were in town, what's the occasion?" I was trying to be formal and casual but Faustus didn't seem to be interested in that. He simply said "where are you? I need to speak with you". My gut was saying 'that's rude and aggressive' but my heart was saying  'tell him to meet you here in five minutes'. Despite this, my mind told me to say what ended up being my response "I'm in my house. You seem panicked what's wrong?" Me and Faustus had split over 2 decades ago but from time to time, my heart still ached for him. He responded with "I'll see you there at 3pm on Thursday. Make sure your there. I can't talk but I'm sending you a kiss from me. Good evening sister". Then I heard the buzzing of the phone as our conversation ended. Hilda said "that was short and sweet, who was it?" Of course I couldn't tell her so I simply said 'it was just a teacher from Baxter high rambling on about Sabrina's amazing work'. None of them questioned it so I took a sigh of relief. I realised there was something that could help me with this. It'd take a while to find, but it'd be worth it in the end. I headed upstairs and told Hilda I was going to fix my makeup. I tend to do that a lot so it was nothing unusual. I routed through every box and every basket in our room and couldn't find it. The last place was under my bed, in the side draw, locked with a key I kept on me at all times. It'd been so long since I'd opened it that I'd forgotten what was even in there. I unlocked it slowly and cautiously. There it was, my diary from my days at The academy of unseen arts. This was worth a read.