Who: Headless Horseman (Faust), Nike and Jared [NPC] Where: Nike's apartment When: 2AM Sunday morning, happening two hours after this. What: Faust always kept his promise. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for violence, blood, language
The door was easy enough to pick and open, starting things off as easy and uncomplicated, just as Faust liked it. Back when such barriers were just simple wood banded together by taunt animal leather, he would more than easily just burst through with his black steed, bringing the terror that he was into the house, obliterating any hope of escape.
It was the perfect entrance, one made of nightmares, and possibly one that Faust would have appreciated if he didn’t loathe the entire process deep inside of him. But during that moment, it wasn’t his own thoughts that dictated the movements of his arms anymore. It was the bloodlust that moved him into the room, his mind filled with the image and need of blood, severed heads, open mouths, agony, terror, horror.
This was his curse, one that a Greek deemed it “amusing” to pick at, which was the main reason he was here. He always knew where they were, these people that had nothing else better to do. If they would have only left him alone in the beginning, he would have been normal. Died a normal death, not like now, acting the part of the Grim Reaper instead.
The room was dark, the sounds of Faust’s boots were muffled by that of the cheap carpet on the floor that led to the living room. He could make out a form on the couch in front of him, obviously male from the lack of shirt and obviously sleeping. Faust never had had experience with Greeks, but from what he could tell, this man on the couch was careless. Despite the fact that Faust had a feeling that there was something amiss, the bloodlust within him only spurred him further, taking a couple of more silent steps towards the sleeping form, the sword in his hand whispering against the air as he raised it.
Then in one swift move, it was brought down, its edge racing to meet with that of skin, eager for the blood to spill out.
But the blow never came as the sword was swiftly knocked out of Faust’s hand, the sound of something large beating against the air as he felt himself being hurtled towards the far side of the room, his body crashing against a table placed against the wall. The first thing he made sure that was still intact was his head, which was actually well into place, thanks to the medical glue given to him the night before. However, his eyes were glazed over at the intense pain that was tearing through his body, a type of pain that he had not felt in some time since the Revolutionary War.
“You will not touch him.”
Faust could feel the change in the atmosphere as he senses something different in front of him, and once his vision had cleared, he was presented with a form of what he supposed was an angel, a woman, no doubt, who did not look happy at all. But Faust wasn’t worried about her or her emotions, what mattered now that she had prevented him in taking his victim tonight. And as far as he was concerned, he didn’t give a damn what she was, even if she was God in disguise, he was going to satisfy his bloodlust.
He staggered upwards, his hand reaching for the sword that had been knocked out of his grasp, only inches away from where he had fallen. The blood that had came out of the corner of his mouth was spat onto the floor, in front of this strange woman.
“You will not take from me. I will collect.” Faust rasped, his sword pointed towards the man on the couch who was looking slightly bewildered at the happenings around him, sputtering incoherent words.
The blonde goddess was equally clueless in what the man, thing, in front of her was. With the force she had dealt him with, the man would have been instantly knocked out from the impact. However, that wasn’t the case, since he was already up again, with only the blood down his chin being apparent of the fact that she had at least done some damage to him. When her senses had alerted her of a foreign presence in the apartment, Nike had almost made a hole in the wall of the bedroom to protect Jared, who was very shocked at the moment.
She couldn’t blame him, after all, but she wasn’t going to risk it even more by letting him see her wings, which were hidden quickly now that he was more aware.
But at this point, fight took over the initial reaction, and she could see him already strengthening his mind and gauging the intruder. They both knew how to be battle-ready, her from long histories of battle and him from his experience drilled into his mind during ROTC. Either way, it was something that Nike admired about Jared, but she knew this was a fight he wouldn’t stand a chance in.
Nor did she have enough time to respond to him when the man in front of her lunged forward, the blade of his sword swiftly slicing through the air and shaved off some of her hair as Nike ducked under his reach, catching a hold of his arm and flung the both of them off towards the side, away from Jared. The strength she felt being pushed against her hands was surprisingly firm and powerful, not as much as that of her siblings, but even more than that of what she knew was the normal threshold of those that were mortals.
Which mean that this man was not.
“Do not touch him,” Nike repeated through clenched teeth as she felt the man’s gloved hands trying to wrench her off, his strength almost over coming hers if it wasn’t for her wings that knocked the pair back into another wall, which loosened his grip, but not for long. A sound of annoyance was heard from her as Faust’s sword embedded itself into her shoulder, before being thrown off to the side as he screamed in anger.
Faust’s breath was ragged as he finally could breathe without the woman having such a grasp on his limbs, feeling weakened so much that he had allowed the sword in his hand to slip to the ground. She was not mortal, this much he knew, but right now his own head was hurting so much that he was tempted to rip it off and toss it somewhere else, giving him a break. But he didn’t have time to breathe freely when the woman was flying towards him once again, this time in her hand there was the familiar glint of his sword that he had dropped.
Nike was swift as she jammed the sword right into the man’s chest, pushing it clean through until she had successfully pinned the man into the wall. She wasn’t afraid of him dying, since he had apparently proved to her that he could take more than a mortal. And if he died anyways, it didn’t matter to her, a righteous punishment to those that harmed that which she cared for. Her arm was applied none too gently against his throat as Nike took in this tall man, her eyes filled with nothing but fury at how her home had been violated as well as her friend.
“Tell me who you are and I might send you to Hades in one piece,” she snapped, forcing the sword a couple of centimeters into the man’s flesh, its point cleanly poking through his back and into the wall.
A broken laugh broke through his suppressed windpipe with a chilling tone. “Nike’s head. Mine. He insult my pride, my dignity.” With the last word, Faust snarled and buckled against the arm and the sword, his own blood seeping through his clothes as he could feel his bones shift against the familiar metal. “You are sister. You know this.” Faust clearly remembered that there were two plotting against him, one of them having stated that she was of that relation.
Instead of the woman being understanding and becoming even angry even further, Faust instead saw Nike’s look of fury change into one of confusion, the pressure against his throat lessening a bit.
“’She’. I am Nike, I am the Greek goddess of Victory. And I have never met you nor had the chance to insult any part of you.” Blue eyes searched dark lifeless ones for an answer and explanation as she whispered her explanation, afraid that Jared might catch some of it. “I am going to ask you one more time. Who are you and what business do you have with me and mine?”
“Don’t act stupid, Mädchen,” Faust snarled, his temper flaring up once again despite heeding that of his logical side, which alerted him that once again something was amiss here. “You wanted to be amused, ja? Take a look at monster, no head. Take off, if you want. Be amused! I am the Headless Horseman. I will not be anyone’s amusement!”
The violence of this man was almost comparable to that of Cerberus, Nike thought, although she still had no clue in what the man was talking about.
“Calm down!” she barked out, annoyed already with the man screaming things that she couldn’t understand nor had the opportunity to explain to her. “I do not know anyone by that name, nor do I wish to see what it is you speak of, amusements and heads. The man on the couch is not my brother; he is my comrade, Jared Williams. He is mortal and cannot withstand that of your sword. He will not come back from that of Hades that easily, so if it was your intention to kill him, you had better give me a plausible explanation for it.”
It was a lot that Nike had to say, which meant that she was deadly serious. She only spoke so much to a stranger when needed to and this one really needed to get it to his head that there will be no beheadings in her home or with her friend. Whoever had told him otherwise was going to be truly sorry.
Faust had stopped struggling only for a few moments while Nike’s words soaked into his mind, bringing out a little bit of his own logical mind, the bloodlust having been slowly ebbing away from the moment Nike had started yelling. Not that that was all one should do to keep such a villain calm, but the exertion of effort and violence, something that he had not experienced in some time, was already draining that of his bloodlust earlier.
“You check my journal. Internet. Reichart Faust.” Faust took a shaky breath, eyes falling closed. “Then you tell me, where this head is.”
Nike gave him a look of suspicion, not exactly trusting of this man’s words especially after all that violence and destruction left in the living room but she wanted to finish this unpleasant business and find out exactly who it was that sent this psychotic man to her house. A chilling thought would be someone who opposed her selection to Athena’s council. If that was a case, Nike knew that things would be quite more serious than she had thought them to be.
“Very well. Don’t move.” Giving this Faust character one more look, Nike pulled away from him, fingers pressing against the shallow cut to wipe away the blood from her shoulder. Only after turning around did she see her other problem still standing a little ways from her and the man.
“Who the hell is that?” came the hushed question as Jared examined the man being pinned up against the wall, whether or not his tone was one of fear or admiration, Nike didn’t know. But he knew what she was capable of and with what the two had done in Iraq along with the Army, this wasn’t as much of a horrific sight than it would be for anyone else.
Nike sighed, looking down at her ruined shirt before placing a hand on his shoulder, pushing him towards the direction of her bedroom. “I’m going to find out. Go. Sleep. My bed is yours for tonight if you’d rather not sleep on the couch.”
“And let you deal with that psycho by yourself? Sorry, Sarge, but I ain’t that kind of stupid. Didn’t figure you to be the hero type either. “
“I’ll get it sorted out.” She pushed him again, fatigue apparent in her eyes as she tried to give him one of her “look” which failed miserably. Of course he saw that part, but he still stayed stubbornly in place, not giving her any leverage in the matter, making Nike wishing she didn’t have gone to the extreme of pinning Faust to the wall, but anger was always hard to explain.
“Fine, I will call you, then. This is something I have to take care by myself. I’ll try to explain it all when I come back.”
It was the final thought on the matter, and Jared knew that he couldn’t do much against those sharp blue eyes. A part of him wanted to keep arguing, but another part of him knew that Victoria was more than capable of dealing with something like this.
“Yeah, you better call or I’ll go out looking for you.” It was Jared’s turn to give Nike a look before he turned around and reluctantly made his way through the mess and towards her bedroom, stopping only to glare at Faust, who was watching him intently as well.
“Nice try, asshole,” Jared growled, giving Faust the middle finger, before closing the door behind him.
Nike wondered if Faust even understood the meaning of such a crude gesture, but opted for going towards the kitchen where the computer was kept to see if the man pinned to the wall was speaking the truth.
---
Twenty minutes later, the sword that had held Faust up was pulled out swiftly, dropping the man to the ground.
“Get up.”
The Horseman opened his eyes and viewed the goddess, watching her warily before looking down at the hole that was still gushing out fresh blood. He was about to ask for something to bandage himself with when Nike leaned down and placed a whole roll of gauze into his hands. Faust momentarily paused as he caught a glimpse of her face, a familiar look to the rage that he had seen her in before.