Faustian Deal: Closed

[WhisperedDesires]

Olivia woke up in a cold sweat, her nightgown was plastered to her skin, her nipples hard diamonds poking through the now sheer fabric. She pushed her auburn locks out of her face, trying to unstick her bangs from her forehead. It had been that dream again. The one about the night that her life had turned finally turned around from worst to better. It should have been good dream of comfort, but really it was a nightmare at this point, and they were happening more and more frequently. During the light of day she could almost pretend that it hadn’t happened, that she had been able to fight the statistics and through hard work and perseverance she had become model adult in today’s society, on her own. No that wasn’t right either. She could at least chalk it up to an anonymous benefactor that had paid for her education. If she were being honest with herself though everything had gotten easier after that night. Money came easier, luck was always on her side, health and beauty radiated from her, she always had her picks of lovers, nobody was ever abusive or manipulative towards her, the list of positivity was always growing. Truly life was perfect minus the frequent nightmares.

She could still remember the night the night it all changed. Growing up in the foster care system had been rough to say the least. She had found out first hand that it was nearly impossible for a child to thrive in it, only barely survive to adulthood. Never mind giving her a solid foundation to leap off into the adult world. She had found that out the hard way when she hit her sophomore year in college. Two jobs, a full time course load, a measly scholarship that was both a blessing and a curse, and no familial or extra support, had been crushing combination to the nineteen year old. She had no money for food, and her text book cost had eaten up most of her rent money, she had no time for friends, barely any time to study and no time for sleep. Her grades were slipping from working too much, but she couldn’t drop one of her jobs and she would lose what tiny scholarship she had if she dropped a class. Everything was looking hopeless, and that tiny bottle of pills she had gotten over the summer from her car crash was looking very appealing. She could just take the whole bottle, fall asleep and never have to worry again, just end this train wreck of her existence. Right next to the bottle was a business card. She couldn’t remember how she got it or who gave it to her. It appeared as a beacon of hope and before she knew it she found herself in his office.

Slowly she crawled out of her bed, almost relishing the shiver of cold that ran through her body proving that she was now awake. She went through the motions of making herself a cup of tea, in hopes that the warmth might soothe and ease her mind to get back to sleep. Still part of her mind held onto the dream like a tether. What deal had she made that night? She could remember agreeing to it, and that they shook on it. Even now she could feel searing heat of his palm against hers years later, subconsciously she tried to rub the sting away. Even now in the middle of the night the dream still fresh, she couldn’t ever recall what she had promised. She knew she had promised something.

The shrill whistle from the kettle had her nearly jumping out of she skin. She rushed to the stove, turning it off before pouring herself a cup. “Olivia get a hold of yourself. It’s not like he’s going to come for you or your first born.” She chided herself with a self deprecating chuckle. For one she hadn’t seen him in years, seven years to be exact. Then again she sometimes thought she saw him out of the corner of her eyes at the coffee shop that one time, or in the window reflection of a building she walked by. For two she had no plans of ever having children, so if she had promised him a first born, the joke is on him.

---------

The night air was crisp and cool, heralding the changing of seasons. Few traveled the streets so late at night, fewer still did so without at least a hint of trepidation. One, however, whistled as he traversed the streets, the song joyful and energetic. Those few other late night walkers he came upon were unnerved as the man smiled at them cheerfully, quickly finding other places for their eyes to be. He simply chuckled at their reaction, even as he continued to make his way unerringly to his destination. As ever, he made it a point to collect his debts personally. Anything else would simply be rude, and he was anything but rude.

Eventually, he found himself at the doorstep of the debtor in question, rather conveniently just as his whistled tune ended. He took a moment to straighten his suit, brush aside a stray lock of dark hair, ensuring everything was perfectly in place. Then he raised a hand and knock upon the door three times, each hollow sound seeming to echo into the building beyond. Almost absentmindedly he began to whistle once more as he waited, turning his back to the door to stare out at the street beyond. It was a rather nice neighborhood, she'd clearly done well for herself. A successful venture then, and one soon to be concluded. He'd have to make sure to send along more of his cards, so many lives needed just a little nudge in the right direction.

 

[VelveteenFancy]

Three knocks, in succession. Her cup of tea practically jumped out her hands at the sound. Nearly boiling water spilling over the kitchen floor and the mug clamored against the tile luckily only garnishing a small chip from the fall. “Shit!” She swore and rushed into motion rapidly uprighting and placing the cup on the counter. “I’m coming!” She hollered at the door. Her head flicking from the spilled tea back to the floor a few times in a silent war on which was more important to take care of. Well, clearly the tea was already spilled and not going anywhere. She tip toed over the cooling liquid before swiftly making it do the door, in her rush she didn’t even bother to peer through the peep hole, just flung the door wide open.

Her face paled the moment she saw who was at the door, the man from her dreams, or rather nightmares. Of course he knocked in threes. A mockery to the holy trinity and a demon. She could have laughed at that thought, that was ridiculous, demons didn’t exist, at least not of the magical sort. She still didn’t want to face him though, nothing good could come from her dream guy. He was impeccably dressed as she remembered, while she was barefoot, wearing a slip of a nightgown that felt far too short to be answering the door in, her hair was a mess of curly disarray, and bags starting to form under her eyes from lack of sleep. Her cheeks flamed in heat and she wished she had at the very least grabbed a robe. Not that it should have mattered he was the one bothering her in the middle of he night. She forced the most charming smile she could muster “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong house.” She offered, quickly closing the door. She knew he was at the right house, he must have been here to collect. But to collect what? She didn’t know. She pushed her back against the now closed door willing him to go away. Her heart was pounding against her chest, much like a hummingbird’s wing, she tried to take a few deep breaths calming herself down. He would go away right? Maybe she was still just dreaming? A dream within a dream maybe?

 

[WhisperedDesires]

The brief moment he actually saw the woman were rather interesting. He supposed he should have expected it, it being the middle of the night. Humans had such odd sleeping habit though, and he rarely liked to walk about under the sun. Still, even he could see that the sight of him had unsettled the woman, and that was interesting in and of itself. Most he came to collect from could hardly remember who he was beyond some vague familiarity. It wasn't until he gently nudged their memory that recognition set in, as well as the implications of his arrival. But his one seemed to know who he was already, or at least have some vague idea. That warranted investigation. They were few and far between, but every now and again a human popped up with a certain resilience to his influence. If she proved one of them...

Perhaps a simple collection wasn't in the cards for tonight after all.

Still, investigation meant he needed to see her once more, speak with her in a setting more appropriate than through a door. Even if there was some other reason for her blatant fear, that simply meant the normal conclusion of his business needed to happen. So once more he raised a hand and knocked upon the door. He could feel her, waiting silently behind the entryway. He wondered if she would play ignorant of his presence, or if she would resolve to face him properly.

 

[VelveteenFancy]

Once again three knocks. She could have sworn that she felt her heart beat in sync with those three knocks. Her head fell back against the door in a soft thud. There was no hiding that she wasn’t home or feigning sleep. No, now she was simply trying to gather her wits. Deep breath, Olivia. Everything has gotten better since then. She told herself and she did just that. On deep breath in, and the rest she sighed out. “You’re not at the wrong house, are you?” She called out through the door, though the question was half a confirmation for herself.

Slowly she turned around, her fist clenching and unclenching, and she carefully opened the door. She swore it felt liked grains of sands were sliding through the cracks of her fingers, like she was about to lose something, something of herself and she didn’t know why.
“Please come in—“ she offered slowly, stepping to the side so he could enter her home. His name was at the tip of her tongue, but much like her pledge she couldn’t recall that either. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name.” A near migraine started to throb at her temples, she took a step back and then another, her back slamming against the wall of the foyer. Her hands starting to cradle her forehead in an effort to alleviate the pain that was rocketing through her skull. Still she tired to remember him. Tried to coax back the dream.

The more she tried to recall it all the worst her pain grew. Her breath hitched , giving her voice and airy sound “I know I met you years ago, and that you helped me out, but I can’t remember what I promised you... What I owe you. I don’t know... I’m sorry—” she nearly choked out the last bit. The pain started to slip away when she stopped trying to remember who he was and why she remembered him. She shook her head displacing her thoughts and the pain. It was easier if she just went with the flow, let luck and fortune take care of her like it had the past seven years. “I apologize that was very rude of me. Can I offer you anything?” She asked in a near chipper tone. The very same tone and smile she used when she wanted some funding from the board of directors.

 

[WhisperedDesires]

The door was opened once more before him, the woman behind it clearly trying to keep up appearances, despite her lack of proper clothing. Something he would have to apologize for, he so detested catching people at the worst, but business was business after all. He stepped into the home at her invitation, eyes scanning the entry way idly, simply to allow the woman time to close the door and perhaps show the way to a proper sitting room. What happened instead was of far more interest, as Olivia paled and stuttered, nearly collapsing against the wall. He watched her intently, dark eyes taking in the scene with naked interest. Eventually she managed to collect herself, to offer something from her kitchen.

For him, drink was no longer even a momentary concern. She remembered, or at least remembered more than others usually did. Her mind was trying to break through the amnesia the veiled her memories, failing perhaps, but doing far better than most. What an interesting individual, so capable of fighting off the influence he held over her. How very... entertaining.

"I'm fine, thank you. It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Connor. I realize you might not recall who I am, I'm afraid it's a common enough occurrence. Most call me Grey. Mister Grey if they wish to be overly polite, but I think we can forgo that, don't you think? But please, surely there's somewhere more comfortable we can speak. I doubt you want to be standing around in the halls, particularly dressed as you are."

 

[VelveteenFancy]

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the name he gave her, and she peered at him with her mismatched eyes. It wasn’t a memory, more of a feeling. It felt like trying to build a puzzle at one of the group homes, where all the puzzle boxes had gotten mixed up. Though the pieces fit together, the colors didn’t match. The right piece but from the wrong puzzle.

“But that’s not your real name, is it?” She felt like he had given it to her, his real one, but for the life of her it continued to evade her. The more she tried to find it, that blasted headache started to creep up on her again. She shook her head again breaking the spell. If she couldn’t remember it surely it wasn’t important, if he wanted to be called Mister Grey then that was what she should call him.

“Yes, Grey you’re right. Why don’t you follow me?” She offered, finally closing the door behind him and leading him through her home. Her house though perhaps modest in size was overly too big for the one person living in it. 3500 square feet of luxury. It was like the house been pulled from better homes and gardens, in a tasteful mix of modern and contemporary. She truly had done well since she had last seen him. When they reached the living room she gestured for him to enter “Please make yourself at home. And if you would excuse me for a moment.”

Before he could say other wise she quickly scurried away to her bedroom. The moment she left his presence her mind felt clearer, as if a cool sea breeze had swept the clouds away. With that fear came rushing back, the hair on the back of her neck was standing straight up, and goosebumps dotted her flesh. True he had been nothing but polite and pleasant, but there was something off about him. She donned on a pair of slippers and a robe before making her way back to him. The silk feel below her knees, adding a layer of modesty, but little more. Yet she hugged the fabric around her like a security blanket.

She settled into the plush leather chair across from him and waited a few moments. Her nerves felt fried, the coolness of the leather a little jarring and not the warmth of the fabric couch that he sat on. However sitting next to him seemed like a bad idea, as if a sole piece of furniture could offer her any form of extra protection. She knew he was going to get whatever he came to retrieve. “Mister Grey, I should thank you for all of this.” She gestured to her whole house with a wave of her hand. Somehow she knew was responsible for it all, her fortune, her luck, but she couldn’t recall the exact actions he had taken to get her here. “But what do you want? I owe you something, and I get this feeling that you don’t want money.” No money seemed like the easy way out, and she doubted that any of this was going to be easy.

 

[WhisperedDesires]

Grey merely smiled at the accusation she made, the claim that he had not given his real name. Another sign that she was more resilient than she seemed. Luck, some might claim, that she'd fallen into his hands in her most dangerous moments. He preferred to think of it was merely happy coincidence. The world turned in mysterious way after all, even for a being such as he. Soon enough he found himself seated on a couch within her living room, waiting for her to return. When she did, dark eyes followed her to her seat, taking in the extra layer with calm indifference. He would not have minded if she'd taken the extra time to dress herself fully, but he supposed, intruding as he was so late at night, this would have to do.

"You have little need to thank me. This is, after all, ultimately from your own efforts. I only helped grease the wheels a little, remove an obstacle here and there. But you are correct, I have come to collect what I am owed, and money is of no interest to me. But the price is already agreed upon, the deal made. Tonight your debt merely comes due. For my help, you promised me such a little thing, such a simple price. Seven years you've been given to enjoy, and now, as per our agreement, your soul is mine."

 

[VelveteenFancy]

A wry smile tugged at her lips, even as panic was starting to sink in. “Ah but the joke is on you, everyone knows that gingers don’t have souls.” She teased, though it was a bluff, she highly doubt that bit of pop culture knowledge was true. Truly she was just trying to buy time. She didn’t want her time to be up yet she still had so much more to live for. Yes there was something important that she was supposed to have done over these past seven years.

“You promised me fortune, luck, and something else...” She muttered more to herself than to him. More and more of that night when she first met Grey was slowly coming to her. But that damned headache kept getting in the way. A clause about having seven years to reach something. Something she should have been able to accomplish easily enough over the course of the past seven years. Yet she feel like it never happened. Somehow she had gotten pulled off course over the years, and she didn’t get to do it. In forgetting that night its like she had forgotten her mission for these past even years too. She closed her eyes desperately trying to remember what would she have wanted as a struggling 19 year old? It certainly wasn’t for love or family. Twelve years in the foster care system had left her with warped views of both those things. She pressed her finger tips to her temples in a vain attempt to try and reduce some of her pain.

She slammed her fist against the nearby end table and glared at him. Her eyes were watery from the squeezing feeling in her mind, but anger burned through her.
“You don’t want me to remember that night. Why don’t you want me to remember?”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

Grey smiled then, a smile that seemed far too wide, showed far too many teeth. The light that revealed the room around them seemed to dim as he did so, the shadows seeming to grow longer despite the sudden lack of illumination. Whispers, heard just at the edge of hearing, the words spoken to soft to be made out. And his eyes watching Olivia, examining her, were filled not with the warmth that his lips spoke of, but a cold indifference, harsh and uncaring for her anger or confusion. Her fate, whether she wished it or not, had been decided seven years ago, the night she'd taken his hand in her own and spoke those words of acceptance. When next he spoke, his voice, though spoken with words as gentle and forthcoming as his first, were laced with something inhuman, something that inspired tingles in mortal spines and fear in mortal hearts.

"I've done not a thing to your memory. Your mind does it for you. It tries to make sense of something it cannot, grasp at feeling it cannot understand. But something tells me you know who I am. You know what I am. Say it, Olivia Michelle Connor. Say it, know it, accept it, and remember that which you asked of me, that which you sought, but which you have not attained."

Grey stood then, eyes locked upon her, freezing her in place, as if her every limb was paralyzed. The whispers grew louder, the human appearance seemingly to shake and tremble in place, for a brief moment vanishing entirely, replaced with the haunting visage of something much darker, something much worse than even the most black hearted men. Eyes of inky black pools watched her in those moments, set into a face that seemed made of bone and ash, with features that reached beyond mortal description. In that briefest moment sanity screamed, before it was gone, the visage of a man standing mere inches away from here somehow having crossed the room. He stared down at her, with that too wide smile, head cocking to one side ever so slightly as he spoke one more time, voice sounding completely normal.

"Remember, Olivia Michelle Connor, what it is your sold your soul to me for."

 

[VelveteenFancy]

“You’re Mephistopheles. You’re a demon. I sold me soul to the devil for good fortune, luck and to save someone from a similar fate as my own.” The words were dragged from her mouth against her will and her own rebelling mind. A compulsion of old magic nearly long forgotten. The moment the spoke the words that night snapped into her mind in perfect clarity. Even as young as she was she had recognized what he was that very night. Complete desperation had forced her to ignore what she knew and how bad of an idea it was.

A smile tugged at her face at a realization, now that she could remember that night and it’s entirety. Check mate. “Your contract is unfulfilled. You promised me fortune, luck and to be a savior. I never saved a soul not on your plane nor on mine. I don’t owe you my soul because you never fulfilled your end of the bargain, and time is up.”

He might not have gotten her soul, but he had her full true name. And if her suspicions on what she was were true. Then he still had full control over her. She only hoped that he thought of her as a simple human with strange eyes.

Much like how that night snapped back into place the rest of her life did too. As a child kids in foster care system teased her all the time for having mismatched eyes. A ghost eye they would tease, one light blue, the other a rich brown. She thought it was simply heterochromia of the eye, just a simple genetic quirk. But more memories suddenly stood out in her mind. She could never out right lie. Any time salt was spilled she had to drop to her knees and clean up every single grain. And she would never give out her full name unless she legally had to, and even then she tried to find ways around it. After this whole experience she wasn’t certain that she was completely human. Maybe that’s why his own magic had to work a little harder against her.

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"But Miss Connor, you have. So many souls, saved from my clutches by your inspirational story. An orphan with nothing, no support, no money, rising to wealth and prestige through her own efforts. So many who would give up hope, all finding strength from your success. So many souls that would have fallen into despair, but for you."

It was, perhaps, not what the woman had meant when she'd spoken of the deal so long ago. But then, it was entirely her fault for not specifying, for so much relied upon the words spoken, rather than the intent. Desperation then had proven the woman's downfall, finding what she thought was a loophole only to fall short on mere technicality. The man was circling the chair, and the woman in it, inspecting her the same way an merchant inspected art made of glass. There was much to be done with this one, for her defiance, her struggle against her inevitable fate, spoke volumes of her resistance. So many succumbed to fear, panic, begging for their life in the futile hope it would somehow help. Such an interesting mortal she was, now that her memories were returning to her.

"You play a game, Miss Connor. A game you do not have the means to win, no matter how much you struggle. Even if you do count such things as freeing you from our deal, you have given me so much else that binds you. One way or the other, Miss Connor, you are mine.

"But please, do continue. Amuse me with your attempts. It has been so long since a mortal railed against their fate with such conviction of purpose. Truly it is a pleasure to see."

 

[VelveteenFancy]

She laughed, a genuine laugh, not one of hysterics but of disbelief. “Me? A role model? There’s no way. No possible way. Have you even watched the last seven years of my life? I asked for fortune not fame. I’ve for the most part kept to myself these past years, enjoying luxuries I could only dream of as a kid. No one would know my story. I’m just a regular upper middle class woman. ”

She ran her hands through her hair, pushing her bangs out of her face, she found herself staring at him desperately searching his words for some sort of truth, there was a spark of hope that she had spread some goodness through the world. But she knew who he was, what he was, Demon’s lie. She knew what she had done or hadn’t done rather. She wasn’t worth being some child’s role model. But the more he talked the more he broke up her thoughts, jumbling up her arguments to fight why his contract was null and void.

”You have given me so much else that binds you. One way or the other, Miss Connor, you are mine.” Those words sent a chill through her, a brief wave a nausea swept through her as her stomach dropped. He couldn’t possibly know? Could he? She just figured it out a few minutes ago, and it had taken her twenty six years to figure it out. Twenty six years to putt together rumored superstitious from faerie tales and her odd quirks. Then again maybe her mind was playing tricks on her again. Maybe she was just trying to find some reason to feel special before getting dragged to the darkest most miserable place in hell. In the grand scheme of things she couldn’t be special. More importantly, no one truly held that kind of power through a name right? Demon or not. Few words couldn’t hold that kind of power.

Still she could already feel him gloating. She was having an identity crisis about her own humanity. And he was already adding her to his list of trophies already won.

“Look can you just stop circling me like a vulture already?”

She hopped up from the chair and began to pace. She needed to think this through. He had waited seven years he could wait another five minutes while she tried to solve her own identity crisis. She was completely human. Had to be, there was a demon after her soul, surely that was the most confirmation she could have. Never mind her sensitivity to mystery metals and a constant iron deficiency. But on the off chance, was it worth arguing her contract if he already had her? There was only one way to find out.

“I hope you know that I am very dissatisfied customer. I am completely prepared to argue the validity of our contract until I run out of air. However I need to know if it’s a moot point.”

She couldn’t believe she was about to ask for something from a demon. Isn’t that what got her stuck in this mess in the first place? She halted her pacing, finally stopping, her gaze meeting his black eyes. She took a deep breath, counting to ten as she let the air out before speaking.

“Mister Grey, I need you to command me to do something using my full name.”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

He watched her quietly as she paced back and forth, seating himself back on the couch in the interim, looking far too relaxed in someone else's home. He idly examined his hands, looking somewhat bored, as Olivia wrestled with her inner self and her own identity. He sat quietly as she voiced her dissatisfaction, something he noted but ultimately discarded. Her satisfaction was hardly his concern, and certainly not something he honestly considered to be worth considering at all. But when she made her request, that he command her using her full name... Well, wasn't that interesting.

He leaned forward once more, eyes focusing entirely upon the woman who stood before him.

"Oh? You seek something from me? What then do you offer in exchange, Miss Connor? Your soul is mine, given of your own will. What else do you have that could prove of interest? What deal would you make?"

His grin, once again, was widening just a bit too far for any human to match, the shadows lengthening once more. Dark power was beginning to pool once more, the chance of another deal drawing it in, ready to seal the bargain between mortal and not, to see that the price paid and the task done. It could be felt, charging the air with an almost electrical pulse that left a deep feeling of unease within the soul.

 

[VelveteenFancy]

She clenched her eyes shut, her body going rigid in tension, hands clenched in tight fists. Any moment he would give her a simple command and she planned to fight it with every fiber of her being. That command never came. She cracked her blue eye open, followed by the brown. What? Where was the simon says?

“What? You can’t tell me that some omnipotent demon doesn’t want a free chance to throw his weight around?” Incredible. Just incredible he wanted another deal. She should have known not to go asking a demon for something. Her eyes darted from him to the growing shadows. The hair on her arm starting to stand as if there was a crackle of electricity. She should have been scared. She should be running out of this house. She should try and argue for her soul back. She absolutely should not be contemplating another deal with him and seeing how deep this rabbit hole was. Instead she grabbed a nearby couch cushion and hurled it at him

“You want another god-damned deal?! I already bargained my soul away, and you got my name, for fucking free I might add. I have nothing left that you could desire. What more can you possibly want from me? My first born? That ain’t happening any time soon, not unless you fuck a child into me.” Oh, shit. She hadn’t even realized what she was saying until she had screamed it at him. He couldn’t possibly want that? Absolutely not that was something witches wanted, right?

“Look you already got me with an added bonus. My full name. Spare us both the guessing game and see if it works.” she suggested, desperately trying to back peddle now.

 

[WhisperedDesires]

The human fascination with giving up one's firstborn. They'd written so many stories upon the subject, you'd almost think they wanted to give away their children. Alas, he'd no interest in something so mundane. What use did he have for some wailing human too young to be reasoned with, to be tempted by offers of all they ever wanted? But her defiance and her outbursts gave him pause, if only because it was an interesting thought. She seemed to think he needed to guess at what she was. How utterly naïve.

"If you've little to offer, than I have little reason to indulge your request, Miss Connor. You already acknowledge you are mine. What more do I require? Should you wish to have your answer, you must offer something of value to me."

Though his smile hadn't changed, somehow it had become almost taunting in nature. He held in his hands all that he needed, and yet he still played at this game. He could command her, it was an easy enough task, even without her name, owning her soul gave him enough to compel her obedience. But in what way was that satisfying? Her defiance and anger were entertaining, it would be all the more entertaining to have such a rebellious soul bend knee, to watch her obey his command without needing to use the cards he held.

 

[VelveteenFancy]

She heaved a sigh of relief, tension visibly left her shoulders, when he didn’t jump at her suggestion. She was desperate for proof of her own identity, but maybe not that desperate. Still that did little to change her situation, it left her no closer to what she wanted. What did she have left to give? She didn’t know a lot about demons. What she did know is that the liked to collect souls. He already had hers, that did her no good. She must have had something of value left, he wouldn’t have offered her a deal. It must be something intangible. Something that she took for granted.

“My obedience, willfully given.” She offered. It was a long shot, he could force her to do anything at this point. It didn’t make sense to her, but she was willing to keep trying. She had always been a persistent soul. Olivia took a careful step closer to Grey and extended her hand out to him. Power hummed through room sending electrical pinpricks through the palm of her hand. It caused her hand to tingle and shake. Sense of déjà vu swept over her from seven years ago. The same warning bells in the back of her mind going off, and just like last time she ignored them.

“I’ll stop arguing about how you cheated me out of my soul, and I’ll go with you willingly. In return command me using my full name to do a mundane task. Do we have a deal?”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"We have a deal, Miss Connor."

Her hand was taken as he stood, the hold firm and unyielding. Though her defiance had been amusing, and would likely still continue given her resistance already displayed, her agreement would ultimately bind her to him. Her arguments had been tiresome, when there was so much more to do with woman, so many other tasks to be done tonight. The deal struck, the power sealed the agreement, binding both to their word. The feeling of electricity sparked between the pair, one who had consigned her soul and sworn her acceptance of her fate, the other promising a task, spoken with name to force compliance. So it would be. When next he spoke, his words carried far more weight with them, ancient magic and half forgotten truths stirring once more.

"Olivia Michelle Connor, kneel and swear your soul to me, once and for all."

 

[VelveteenFancy]

What had she just done?
The moment he spoke the command she actively tried to fight it. Sweat first started to bead at her forehead. She clenched her hands into tight fists. Her limbs started to tremble the longer she remained up right. It felt like someone had tied her limbs and was pulling her down to the ground. Every second that she fought became harder for her to remain on her feet. Her robe and hair now clung to her perspiring form, her nails dug deep into her palms, cutting into her flesh until she bleed. She refused to yield. It was as if the magic itself could sense her resolve and she felt an added weight press against her shoulders. That’s all it took. She crumbled under the weight. Her legs buckled underneath her, and she fell to her knees with a thud. Her hands reaching out to soften the impact on her joints.

The rest of the compulsion she didn’t fight. She had her proof, her confirmation. She at the very least had a hint towards her nonhuman ancestry, though how deep it ran she had no clue. Not that the knowledge would do her any good, but there was peace in knowing. She straightened her back, and brought her hands to rest in her lap, finding motion now that she wasn’t trying to fight his command.

“I, Olivia Michelle Connor, pledge my soul to you.”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

Her obedience, forced as it was, did little interest him. The use of the name had compelled the words from her mouth, made it impossible for her to refuse. Such methods were crude at best, and while they had their place, it was a mere tool being treated as the greatest solution. No, it would be better to have her seek obedience, rather than force it from her. But that took time, time that was sadly running short. Mortals had such busy lives, and despite her good fortune, she would need rest to see to her daily routines. They would have to wait until after her work hours to be properly introduced.

"And so it is. Stand, Miss Connor. Our business, for the moment, is done. I'm sure you're quite tired, given the revelations thrust upon you. Plenty of time to get to know one another later."

He moved then, beginning to whistle another cheery tune, obviously unconcerned with slipping through the house as easily as if he owned the building himself. He paised at the doorway to the living room, however, holding up a finger in parody of a sudden realization. He turned again, managing to look for all the world like he was somewhat embarrassed, the as always the expression never quite seemed to reach his eyes. With a snap of his fingers a business card, so eerily similar to the one she'd received so long ago, appeared on the coffee table, so very unassuming in its plain appearance.

"I'd almost forgotten! An hour after your work shift ends. We have much to discuss, you and I, so very much to discuss."

Then he was gone, the only trace of his passage the whistled tune that seemed to hang in the air. The sound of the front door opening and closing marked his leaving entirely and the man was soon strolling down the street once more, disappearing into the night. Just as Olivia collected herself once more, a whispered voice spoke in her ear, smooth and filled with mirth.

"Don't be late, Miss Connor."

 

[VelveteenFancy]

And so she went about her next day as if in a trance. She went through the same motions, performed her tasks, participated in her meetings, smiled and joked with her coworkers when appropriate. For the most part she kept up all appearances that everything was normal. Now whether that was to deceive her peers or herself she wan’t quite sure. Try as she might, even she hadn’t been able to maintain her facade the whole day, instead she feigned sick and snuck out an hour early. Nobody questioned her, it was out of character, but they gave her wishes to feel better.

When she got home she used the extra time to get ready. She debated on a light dinner, but her stomach had been in knots all day she questioned if she’d be able to keep anything down. Then again it might serve him right if she vomited all over his suit. A quick shower, change in clothes and a fresh face of makeup. A far cry from her robe and negligee that she wore last night. She had spent a little extra time on her face, choosing a bold red lipstick, and applying it with the reverence one would for war paint. She picked her favorite navy blue dress. The one she would pick for either a first date, or an event that she needed to feel confident for. It was her modern day battle armor. It hugged her curves in all the right, give just the right amount of her cleavage. Paired with a set of nude pumps, she felt far more prepared to face Mister Grey.

She was early, almost unreasonably so. She had been warned not to be late, but half an hour early might have been excessive. She drummed her fingertips against the steering wheel, turned the radio up and tried to sing along. Searching for some sort of distraction to take up some time and soothe her bubbling anxiety. Her voice cracked and wavered. She fumbled over lyrics she knew by heart. Her eyes kept darting to the clock on the dash willing the time to go faster. Fifteen minutes left, close enough she might as well get this ver with.

His office was in an unassuming business building, a little on the older side but well maintained. She walked through the near empty corridors, her heels making soft clicks against the polished floor. On occasion she ran across a wayward office worker, clearly on their way home. At this time of the evening most of the building workers had cleared out leaving behind only a straggler or two. It didn’t take her long to reach the suite number on the card he left behind. She checked the time on her phone one last time, eight minutes early. Habitually she smoothed the wrinkles out of her dress, took a deep breath and knocked twice.

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"Come in, Miss Connor."

The interior was sparse of many of the furnishing a normal office might have. Instead, a single desk, an exact replica of the one Olivia had seen seven years ago, sat in the very center of the room. Grey sat behind it, idly looking over various forms, while another chair sat empty in front of it. Off to the side, the only other piece of furniture to be found, sat a gently ticking grandfather clock, quietly marking the passage of time.

As Olivia stepped fully into the room, he glanced up, taking in the sight of her. Her clothing suggested many things. To someone less capable of seeing past appearance, it might look like she was merely trying to impress, or perhaps to seduce. To his eyes, she wore it like armor, her body language suggesting far more confidence than the night before. One of those who's gained confidence in their appearance then. It was good he'd caught her unprepared then, or she might have been far more difficult to handle during their reunion, though the outcome would have ultimately been the same.

"Hello, Miss Connor. A pleasure to see you, truly. Please, sit. We've much to discuss about what you'll be doing for me from now on."