undergrounds | Dear Eliza [for Clara, Aradia, Liam, and Mab]

"Of course. Just a moment." He disappeared back into the house. A few minutes passed. There were a few thumping noises from down below, maybe a sort of dragging of heavy wood. Faust returned, looking only slightly more mussed than before.

"Invitation extended."

Mab waited, her eyes not straying to take in the sights. She listened to some thumps before she felt the threshold give and finally stepped into the house passing the threshold as though it was a curtain now. Walking in to the main room it looked generally as mundane as her first impression. She took it in with a sweep of her eyes before returning her gaze to the doctor.

"You wish for me to be present while you ask your questions?" She asked taking in the slightly mussier look.

"If you have some time on your hands. After all, you're the one who made the suggestion." Finish what you start, Mab, and don't look away from what it takes to get there.

"This way." He opened a door and descended down the steps to the basement, where Elsa's uncle was waiting. The man looked terrified; his eyes darted from Faust to Mab, but it was clearly the former he was worried about.

"Herr Heinemann," he said softly, amiably. "I'm sorry about that interruption. But now that my guest is here, we can begin in earnest, hmm? You can tell me what I want to know."

"Very well." She tried to decide if he meant it as some kind of reward. She certainly doesn't shy away from horrific things so he'll have no worries there at the very least. Not that he was the type to worry.

She followed him through the house, and down into the basement. Her eyes fell on the unfortunate soul. If she was tied down, she'd be concerned to have the necromancer around as well.

There was an open space to the side of the chair and Mab moved there with a fluid grace. The room's temperature dropped just a little as she moved but no frost formed on anything. "He does not wish to speak I take it?" She took in the bindings and it made her voice a little wry. From here on she would leave most of the speaking to Faust. It was his wife and her soul that he was after. Mab's part came later.

"It doesn't matter what he wishes," said Faust. He carefully peeled the tape from his captive's mouth. Heinemann was breathing hard, whispering something in German.

"Yes, yes, I know. This is a recent acquaintance of mine. Don't worry; I think we can rely on her not to call the police. Now, where were we? Ah." Faust patted the man's shoulder, slid his hand down and somehow into his chest. His fingers phased through the man's skin and tissue without a hint of resistance. There was the slightly sickening sound of a fingertip scraping bone.

The man screamed.

"Tell me," said Faust, "What I want to know."

Willing meant no torture was necessary. It was interesting that he didn't even seem to consider the possibility. She tilted her head a little, listening to the German. She spoke German enough to understand but her face remained impassive as the man looked close to panic.

Her expression did change when Faust pressed his fingers into his captive. That was complicated magic. Being able to pass through one layer and then becoming solid enough that she could hear bone being touched. Suddenly Mab was a whole lot more interested in the proceedings. She stepped closer, watching his work more carefully. Like an observer in a macabre surgery quorum but with a better seat. She remained silent, allowing Faust to do what work he found necessary.

Heinemann was breathing hard, with sweat now beading on his brow. His chest heaved, his back arched, but Faust did not seem to notice his distress. The old man was babbling something about trust or perhaps not trusting.

"You," he managed, "Keep company with monsters. You are a monster. The monster who married my sweet niece. I won't tell you anything."

"But you will tell me," said Faust, switching to German himself. "Oh, you miserable old man. How long have you sat on this knowledge? Did stories get back to you? Stories about what I'd been up to?"

"Yes," the old man breathed. "Yes! I know what it is you're trying to do."

"Then let me make this simple," said Faust. "Give me what I want, and I'll go away."

The human was impressive. Even racked with pain he was refusing Faust what he requested. Most humans would have passed out from pain such as that which the doctor was delivering. It was quick though. Mab tended to stretch such things out, Faust had an endgame though and as a mortal, far less time to devote to torture. She smiled a little at the idea that Faust kept company with monsters. That much was true.

It was honorable, what the man was trying to do. This summoning Faust was going to attempt could end up doing more harm to Eliza's spirit than he could possibly imagine. It could leave her broken or worse. None of that was Mab's problem though. Her eyes did not leave the man being tortured. Cool calm and assessing no concern for him at all. No expression really in the long run now that the smile had disappeared again.

The man refused to give. Admirable in a way, perhaps, but Faust had other methods. Possibly if he'd wanted, he could have resorted to those other methods from the start.

Possibly.

He removed his hand from Heinemann's chest, and instead placed it over the man's forehead. There was a surge of magic Faust he spoke the necessary incantations. Heinemann tried to scream, but Faust slipped his hand over the man's mouth and gripped with feverish strength. The struggles slowed, stopped.

Faust removed his hand.

The old man's mouth opened, worked once or twice. "Francine," he said in a hoarse whisper. A single tear escaped from one faded blue eye.

"Eliza Mileta Francine... Faust." The last word came more like a curse than anything else.

One had to wonder if he'd used the most painful approach out of vengeance or envy. Faust did seem the type to blame his wife's uncle for both knowing more about his wife than he did as well as not sharing it. The way he stopped the man's screams was not gentle but it seemed the spell he'd cast was almost worse. A man who had been proud and struggled against physical torture was reduced to tears when his free will was taken. It might have moved a mortal but Mab was more interested that Faust could so quickly construct a ... was it a truth spell?

Her lips worked over the name once, memorizing it herself. This was what he was missing, no doubt. But the man could still be hiding part of the name. She watched the necromancer, with passive patience.

Or maybe just plain maliciousness, which was also a possibility.

"Francine," murmured Faust, his gaze becoming vague and distant. He lowered his lips to the man's ear, whispered something. Then he pulled away.

"I think we are done here," he said, casting only a brief glance at the old man. He loosened the tape, but Heinemann made no move to try and free himself. "I have what I need."

"You are certain you have all of it now?" She asked him, eyes drifting down to the broken man as the tape was removed. Her expression remained neutral. The house made soft noises around them, an old building settling, a clicking as power went on in another part of the home, perhaps an air conditioner or the refrigerator. "You will likely only have this chance to get everything you need."

"I'm sure," said Faust. The old man still made no attempt to move. Of course, the real question was how he could be so sure. Maybe he'd done things like this in the past. Or maybe he just felt the rightness of the moment. In any case, he turned to leave.

"You don't seem much bothered by what has happened here."

She gave him one last look as though trying to determine if he was confident because of how he had extracted the information or because he was slightly insane. Finally she nodded and moved toward the door as well, following the doctor toward the stairs.

"Does that bother you?" She asked. She didn't think it did but some humans were difficult to read. But if he thought a little playful torture would upset her, he was certainly mistaken. The man meant nothing to her, provided no use to her she had no reason to feel anything for the pain he suffered. She was the type to think the Romans had been hobbyists at torture. Ten minutes in a basement was hardly a problem. The man had served his purpose.

"It was only an observation." Being bothered by Mab being bothered would be a little silly, since he had been the one not bothered in the first place.

"I shall begin preparations for the summoning spell immediately. If you'd like, I'd be happy if you could attend. It was your suggestion that led me here, after all." And also led to some poor old man's suffering, but details.

"Ahh, then yes, I was not bothered."

She stepped out onto the landing and turned to him as he invited her to the summoning. She did not need to be present at the summoning but his magic was truly what was an interest to her so there was no reason not to attend. "I believe I would enjoy that."

"Very well. It will likely take place at my clinic. Thus there will be no... invitations to worry about." Of course, the question about the location they were at now was what would happen to Heinemann. Probably it would be a good idea if no one checked on him for a little while.

"It will be a small affair, I think."

"Excellent. Send me the date and time and I will attend." She didn't even glance back at the basement door. Whatever Faust decided to do with the weeping man downstairs was up to him, it wasn't as though she had to concern herself with mortal authorities.

"One would hope." Summonings did not work well with large groups. Spirits could be temperamental about such things. She moved toward the door giving him a moment to decide if he needed her for anything else.

He didn't have anything to add, so he simply bowed politely and escorted her to the threshold. He'd do a bit of cleaning up around here -- wouldn't do to have a policeman who was a little too curious poking around in his spell preparations.

Dear Eliza [for Clara, Aradia, Liam, and Mab]

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