H E I S E N B E R G

“ i was just a kid. “

“ i want to be soft… “

“ you are immovable. “

“ do you forgive yourself? “

“ can i stop fighting, now? “

“ you were different. you cared. “

“ you never really cared, did you? “

“ i keep waiting for it to get easier. “

“ i’d lay down my life to keep you safe. “

“  think i’m owed a happy day… just one. “

“ i should’ve known better than to trust you. “

“ who the hell gave you the right to hurt me? “

“ you always made me believe that it was okay. “

“ no one’s ever smiled at me the way that you did. “

“ i thought i had forgiven. i thought i had forgotten. “

“ but, anger is damn well better than nothing, right? “

“ maybe some people are just made to be shattered. “

“ you gave. and you gave. expected nothing in return. “

“ all the love I’ve ever known… has never been gentle. “

“ do i fear you…? since when does a wolf fear its prey? “

“ something inside you is broken. maybe it always was. “

“ i’ll never forget their faces. i still see them every night. “

“ why do i find myself missing a life that never even was? “

“ maybe it’s time to show them what a mistake they’ve made. “

“  i didn’t know how far i’d fallen. i don’t know how i can escape. “

“ and, sure, you can fool them… but, you can’t fool them forever. “

“ i fucking hate it when you smile, because i know what’s beneath it. “

“ i found myself craving touch, aching to be held, if only for a moment. “

“ i’ll hold your heart as it deserves to be.  i’ll protect it to my final breath. “

“ no, you were never meant for this, but that will not stop you from trying. “

“ i guess i always knew it was too good to be true. shame on me for hoping. “

“ a fire still has a way of blazing ,still eats you alive, even if you aren’t looking. “

“ if that’s what it takes… i’ll let the beast inside win and claw my way through this. “

“ you thought you could keep them all fooled, but your silver tongue keeps slipping. “

“  you will have my forgiveness, time and time, again. always. ——  but, my trust…? “

“ i would do whatever it took to protect you… let my hands drip  r e d  to keep you safe. “

“ oh, yeah, there’s a lot of things i would love to say to you… ‘ fuck you ‘ comes to mind. “

“ there’s still so much of me that’s pieces of you. and i can never seem to claw them all out. “

“ how do i trust you won’t bring the lighter, the gasoline and set my garden ablaze as they did? 

“ i was too young for these scars on my heart. i was too young for this blood on my hands.”

“ we climbed all the way to the stars, but heaven knows we were doomed to fall from the start. “

“ wounds don’t ever heal. you just notice them less. on good days, you forget they exist at all. “

“ why the hell do i rearrange my world for you… when you pretend i’m not even a part of yours?”

“ it took me long enough, but i think i’ve finally figured it out. i’m the villain of this story after all… “

“ the moment they touch you is the moment they should be falling to their knees, pleading for mercy. “

“ they dropped the world on your shoulders and called you atlas.  ——- how long can you hold the weight? “

“ i could live without you. i could fight without you. i could survive without you. but, that doesn’t mean i want to… “

“ you were once among the strongest, appearing unbreakable, unshakable… oh, but, darling, even Rome’s walls crumbled. “

“  i don’t know how to put it into words how much i need you, how much i love you… i just know i sleep better when you’re beside me. “

“ they molded you into a monster. sharpened your claws, your fangs. ripped out everything good and holy, made you howl until your throat burned… “

“ you were so pure before they dragged you through the flames… now, you’re all charred remains and shattered bones, choking on ashes and smoke, begging for the fire back. “

“Be gentle…”

“That was a joke.”

“You were happy?”

“It wasn’t about sex.”

“No, don’t think. Shut up.”

“I don’t mind a challenge.”

“Pain can be quite liberating.”

“Hey, what are you doing up?”

“No, I’m fine. Please, continue.”

“I never meant to do this to you.”

“At my age? I should be so lucky.”

“You said you wanted to die fast?”

“Noooo, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m a hard case. Too much history.”

“Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s fine.”

“You’re not coming with me, are you?”

“Next time’s what you said last time…”

“Sorry, this is a lot to process at once.”

“I have ways of loosening your tongue.”

“Perhaps he trusted the wrong person.”

“Well that depends on why you’re here.”

“I want to enjoy every last minute of this.”

“But, somebody did hurt you, didn’t they?”

“I suppose I’m afraid to relinquish control.”

“What was she giving him that I couldn’t?”

“It’s a fine line between pleasure and pain.”

“My job is to help people unlock their pain.”

“Well, you live long enough… anything’s possible.”

“He wasn’t even my type. I prefer the lone wolves.”

“Perhaps this might be a good time to release me?”

“But, what if feeling nothing is the worst pain of all?”

“Make it quick. Best to get it over with, don’t you think?”

“Killing me won’t ease the pain. It’ll only make it worse.”

“Now you know what it feels like to be us. To be mortal.”

“A little dancing, a little drinking… a little what-have.you.”

“Come on, you see  e v e r y t h i n g  and you don’t see that?”

“I’m going to make you hurt like you have never hurt in your life.”

“First, you will beg me to stop… and then you will beg me not to.”

“Any evidence that was left got washed away with last night’s rain.”

“Come away with me. Let’s do all the crazy things we talked about.”

“Everybody, even the greatest of all time, pooched it once in a while.”

“I’ve always been on the receiving end. But, it’s fun inflicting pain, too.”

“A face that broke a thousand hearts. And a bosom that defies gravity.”

“Well, don’t change too much, okay? I kind of like you just how you are.”

“We’re not a couple of dumb kids anymore. We’ve learned from our mistakes.”

“I was in the neighborhood and I wanted to talk to you about erotic electrocution.”

“The people we love the most are the ones capable of hurting us the most deeply.”

“She makes me feel alive… which is ironic, given the number of times she’s tried to kill me.”

“I know what it is to be alone, to have be betrayed by the one person you thought you could trust.”

“Its ironic, isn’t it? That the only way to feel alive… is to give another person the power to destroy you.”

Just as her teeth had grazed Turpin's palm the door creaked open.  She would have never expected Heisenberg to be the one to open the office door. He lingered there for a moment, his frame outlined in warm light from the hallway behind him. 

“I leave you alone for five minutes, and this is what you get up to?" The question was directed at Lana, who received a bewildered look from Turpin as he removed himself from her. Turpin inched away, a nervous smile pulled at the corner of his lips letting out a loose chuckle before speaking.

"My Lord, Heisenberg… forgive me, I—"

“Save the bullshit for your sermons, Father. I don’t give a damn.”

Turpin and Karl shared a long, daunting look before Karl entered the room fully. Each step is more tantalizing than the last. The only sound was the soft echo of Heisenberg’s boots against the wooden floor, and the occasional crackle from the fire.

Smoke rolled from his cigar as he puffed away at it, Lana’s eyes followed him as he made his way to Alcina’s desk. She pressed her back firmly into the mantle behind her, hoping to disappear into it. Not out of fear of Lord Heisenberg but of Father Turpin. If he didn’t have his way with her now he would when they were alone.

Karl stared Turpin down as he let the ash from his cigar fall onto Alcina's desk. Surely, he would leave it there just to add salt to the wound he tore into her earlier. It was petty but good enough for her.

"Once this all gets out, you might be out of the job." He continued, "It’s not exactly fitting for a man of your station to go around assaulting maids…”

Lana watched wide-eyed at how Karl's presence made this once arrogant man squirm. Turpin stammered, he shook his head and picked at his palms. His face flushed pink with embarrassment. "My lord, please, you don’t understand—“ He tried again, then as he opened his mouth to further explain; Karl snapped.

“Shut your goddamn mouth.”  

Turpin visibly jumped at Heisenberg’s change of tone, causing Lana to bite her lip to keep from smiling. This was just what he deserved. A heavy silence fell over the room as Turpin realized he wasn’t going to be able to worm his way out of this. His mind began to race, Mother Miranda wasn’t a forgiving patron. She would make an excellent example of his defiance if she found out.

He whipped his head around to look at Lana, as though she would attest on his behalf. Instead, she did nothing.

Turpin was a worm of a man, who had dedicated his life to climbing up the ranks of the village by strategically getting rid of anyone who questioned him. If he didn’t have his church or the villagers under his thumb, he had nothing. In the brief moment they shared Turpin looked petrified.

“Get out,” Heisenberg ordered. A mix of guilt and relief plagued her as she watched him stumble over furniture trying to get out of the door. Heisenberg followed briskly, shutting the door behind him.

On one hand, Turpin deserved all of what Heisenberg had dished out to him and more. On the other, what would become of him if he lost all of the eggs he had so carefully placed in his basket? He would take it out on everyone, and she would feel partly responsible.

Once the door was closed Lana met Karl’s gaze for the second time that night. For a moment she figured he would chew her out as well as it seemed to be a habit-- instead he engaged her calmly.

“Well?” He asked, leaning against the door frame. Lana maintained her eye contact, mostly out of curiosity, she could almost make out the shape of his eyes if she squinted.

She understood his appeal to the noble women who threw themselves at him. Not only was he confident, he was tall and well-spoken. He had a rugged charm to him, wavy hair, wiry facial hair, and scars that adorned his face and neck. It all worked together in a way most men couldn't pull off. She couldn't deny her attraction to him.

Lana ran a hand through her hair as she moved away from the mantle, closing her eyes momentarily. She hadn’t realized how firmly she had pressed herself into the stone. 

“Lord Heisenberg,” Lana greeted with a small smile, meeting his eyes again. Her voice was partly breathy from the air she had been holding during their exchange. “Tell me, do you save women often; or am I just lucky?”

It was risky to be so, informal of who she was speaking with; however realization had yet to set in for Lana. Her body was still processing the adrenaline it had been pumping so intensely.

At the very least she knew he was looking for some sort of explanation– why had Father Turpin attacked her? What were the two of them doing in Alcina's office, to begin with? It wasn't like she could just outwardly tell him. 

Alcina's office had been misplaced since the kerfuffle between the two. One of her chairs was crooked, ash had pooled on Alcina's desk, and the letter opener that had been such a useless weapon was discarded to the floor. 

"I suppose I owe you a thank you," She said, sliding the chair back to its place. "As well as a couple of answers.." 

"Earlier this afternoon I was called to meet with Father Turpin," She began, glancing at him and then back to the room focusing on nothing in particular. "He wanted me to sign some things saying that I had been attending his sermons for the last year. On his desk was this," Lana produced the letter from her pocket and offered it to Heisenberg. 

"Father Turpin decided to stop teaching Mother Miranda's gospel." She continued to explain, "In doing so, those who spoke out or threatened to let her know were led to be slaughtered by Lady Dimitrescu. He gave her a ledger of names, which I came here to collect and do away with."

She turned her body to face him, watching him with a doe-like expression as he read over the letter. He could very well kill her for being here, for meddling with Alcina's belongings, for talking to him like they were equals. Lana was naïve and extremely trusting; never suspecting foul intentions from anyone. It was a habit that often got her into trouble.

Letter as follows: 

"Father Turpin,  

It has come to my attention that you are no longer in compliance with Mother Miranda's teachings. If she were to find out, your head would be found at the end of Lord Heisenberg's hammer. However, I say what she doesn't know won't hurt her.  

Please send the names of those who are no longer attending your services, and I will ensure that they are dealt with. 

Heisenberg wasn’t surprised. For all its lofty principles about integrity and community, the village was corrupt: no one acted in the interest of the greater good. Instead, their motives were tied to their own selfish ambitions, and Miranda’s favor was the most valuable currency they could hope to earn. Beyond that, food, shelter, small pleasures—these were rarities to come by, and the peasantry fought over them like dogs for scraps.

The girl was looking at him with all the breathy admiration of a damsel in distress as she spoke. But he was no white knight, nor was he interested in playing one. He was rotten to the core—a monster with more blood on his hands than the cowardly priest who’d just fled—and sooner or later, she was going to realize that. No point in playing nice.

“Oh, you’re not out of the woods yet, sweetheart.” Slow, leisurely steps carried him toward the fireplace, smoke bleeding from his cigar. Even the damned office was a study in overwrought architecture and stuffy decor. His gaze drifted idly across the gleaming mantle as she began to tidy the furnishings; he would have preferred to leave it in a state of disarray, but she was a maid, after all.

He paused in front of a small clock as she began to recount her meeting with Turpin. Such a fragile thing, clockwork—the smallest flaw, and the whole thing was doomed to break. With the slightest gesture of his hand, he tweaked at the internal workings—an infinitesimal nudge, invisible to the maid, just sufficient to make it stop. A broken clock would drive Alcina crazy.

“So Turpin’s behaving badly and Alcina’s blackmailing him for a hot meal…” He mused on that for a moment before turning back toward her, absently rolling the cigar between gloved fingers. “For fuck’s sake. Never would have figured he had the backbone to betray Miranda. But then, he’s always been about as sharp as a bag of hammers.”

Alcina’s hand in this came as no surprise. The curse of her condition was an insatiable appetite that grew with each passing year—more and more, she was sniffing out excuses to send villagers to her dungeons, never to be seen again. Miranda wouldn’t be happy about it, but Alcina's gluttony would be punished with nothing more than a slap on the wrist. It was Turpin’s disobedience that he found more intriguing. Where had he found the audacity to abandon Miranda’s teachings? There was more to the story, but he wasn’t convinced the maid had the answers.

He took the letter as it was proffered, scanning flowery handwriting on crisp stationery. It wasn’t a fake—nor had he suspected it to be—but it would be useful. He tucked it into an inside pocket of his coat, the paper vanishing in the depths of stained canvas. He would have to use it carefully; everything was about timing.

“Well, how about that? Look at you, making yourself useful.” He angled his head to look at her, tucking the cigar between his lips for a brief moment. His gaze lingered, drifting over her form, studying the lustrous hair and soft features. There was something about her that he couldn’t quite place—something mesmerizing, like a compelling work of art in a gallery. She had the sort of beauty that invited his stare, and shamelessly, he obliged.