Chapter Text
Phoenix did not know what to think, and how could she begin to understand anything? Beyond the chaos in front of her, the only thing her drug addled mind could focus on was the desperate look in Winslow’s eyes as he stared up at her. The warm, helpful, and safe man that she had met in the Swanage was now unrecognizable to her as a corpse on the Paradise’s floor. His death swam in her head along with the others she was forced to watch. Beef, Philbin, and Swan’s deaths were mixing in with Winslow’s. Swirling in her until she felt sick to her stomach, it churned with horror and finally boiled over, ending with her vomiting on the shoes of one passing audience member, who was too busy dancing and hollering to notice what happened.
She finally worked up the courage to approach Winslow’s body. Her face contorted in pity at the sight of him, and regret at how she dismissed him earlier that night played on loop until it welled up all the space in her chest. He was trying to warn her. What Swan did to him was all true, and Swan had wanted to do the same to her, and perhaps to Beef if he ever got the chance. It was horrifying, and the people dancing and yelling around her had no care in the world to acknowledge it.
As Phoenix knelt down beside the body of Winslow Leach, now growing cold with death as the blood continued to seep out onto the stage floor, she froze.
In fact; everyone froze.
The once crazy atmosphere of the Paradise main stage was now eerily still as everyone was seemingly frozen in time. Phoenix could only move her eyes, still wide and fearful as she took in the supernatural information. Philbin, dead on the floor of the stage. Swan, dead in the arms of a small mob carrying him off the stage, just breaching the shadowy wings. And Winslow, dead and disfigured, gazing up at her with more emotion than a corpse should have.
“Now this is just disappointing.” Came an unfamiliar masculine voice from behind. It came from somewhere in the audience seating, just beyond Phoenix's peripheral.
With a few steps, the source of that voice became visible. A tall man, fashionably dressed, and well-groomed with black hair slicked back to fully reveal his sharp face. His skin was as red as a cherry and curling from his forehead in front of his full hairline were two horns that followed the styled shape of his hair.
Another wave of sickness washed over the frozen Phoenix as she realized who had appeared in the Paradise. Someone who should not be welcomed into a paradise of any kind.
There was movement on the stage, from the group carrying Swan’s body reversing their path with it. With everyone making way for the parade until they stopped at the center edge of the stage. They dropped the body to the floor, and the once regal Swan laid crumpled and burned in a messy heap. His wedding suit was pink with his blood, and his mask was somewhere on the stage, trodden and broken.
The man, who Phoenix was quickly and frightfully realizing was the Devil himself, stepped up to Swan’s body. His hands on his narrow hips, and utter disappointment painting his body language.
“You finally found the music to open The Paradise, after all these years of searching, and this is how you squander it? I can’t be here to clean up all of your messes, and this happens to be the biggest mess you’ve made since the contract began. Though, fortunately for you, the years of dedicated service has convinced me to give you another chance, Swan.”
Swan’s discarded body shook and convulsed on the stage floor, until his chest heaved with a sudden breath in. He sat up after a few more painful breaths.
He felt confused, it had been many years since Swan had last felt that way. The last thing he remembered was the burning. His shaking hands quickly flew to his face to discover no burnt flesh, though his suit was absolutely ruined. Swan looked up from the ruins of his suit and directly into the eyes of his master. It had been a long time since he gazed into the eyes of his master without some glamour or shape-changing obscuring them. It struck fear into his heart and an icy chill flooded his body that was still reeling from fresh death.
“Did you hear what I said?” Satan asked, his body language and tone showed that he was getting impatient. Swan could hear the light thump of his tapping foot against the floor.
“M-master- no! I didn’t! I-I’m still..” what was the word he was looking for? His lungs still hungered for air as his lips opened and shut to try and finish his sentence. The fear was ripping through his veins, clogging up any attempts at his usual coherency.
“..com-coming back to life.”
This answer made a wry smile form on the lips of his master. Swan stared up at him and silently begged for mercy to be shown. For years he was loyal to his contract. He followed every will and rule that was thrust upon him and built The Paradise to celebrate that contract. Only for the rug to be pulled out from under him at the last second by that miserable wretch Winslow Leach.
“I’ve decided to give you another chance. There has been too much put into The Paradise to let it rot before it has a chance to open.” The Devil walked closer towards the stage. Scolding Swan the entire way. “I already have plans on how we’ll do this…. starting with- “
Phoenix, still frozen in fear, watched as the body of Winslow Leach lurched with breath the same way Swan’s did.
The Devil’s footsteps started to come closer towards Winslow’s writhing body with Phoenix knelt beside him. She could not move, no matter how much she tried to.
“Mr. Leach, I must say I am very excited to finally meet you.” His smile stretched tightly across his face as he leaned over the writhing body on the stage.
“Just let…” a ragged inhale “...me... DIE” Winslow cried. Though this did nothing to cut the smile from Satan’s face. It only grew.
“Now, now Mr. Leach, no need to be that way.” The Devil crouched down to be eye to eye with Winslow, his gaze never moved to Phoenix, it was like she wasn’t even there.
“I am a fan of your work. The story of Faust is one that is near and dear to me, and your arrangements make the tale feel completely new again. It was clear to me that Swan’s vision for Faust was lackluster. Sure, it was another gold disc for Fort Knox, but that’s no longer new or interesting anymore.”
Winslow’s writhing stopped as he caught his breath and really listened to the demon’s words. The Devil? A fan of his work? It was too ridiculous, his entire life had become some ridiculous, campy horror movie since this mess with Swan. His heart still throbbed with pain from the attempt to take his life, a life that was so cruelly given back to him when all he wanted was for it to be over.
“I want to hear it again. I want The Paradise to open with your arrangement, your vision, and…” he finally leveled his fiery, orange gaze towards Phoenix, who felt her chest tighten up in horror as she remained frozen on the stage floor. “...your voice.”
Phoenix was finally released from the supernatural hold that was on her. She fell over and caught herself on shaking, unsteady arms. Her first action with control over her body was to weep. She wept into the wooden planks of the stage floor until she could no longer hold herself up and collapsed in on herself.
“Why? Why are you doing this?” she wailed into her arms. Her mind could not begin to understand. She could barely remember the contract she was pushed to sign, and now she was wrapped up in this nightmare, doing the Devil’s bidding like Swan. She and Winslow had become just like him, and now they were trapped.
“Oh darling, I support the arts. Especially when the art is regaling one of my many highlights.” He tutted playfully, like the pity he was giving Phoenix and Winslow was only for his pleasure.
“Anything you need, anything at all, you just let Swan over there know. He knows that an order from you is an order from me, and he’ll comply. Mr. Leach, you will get the Faust you have always wanted, and Ms. Phoenix, with your voice so lovely, you will get that crowd again.”
Finally, the demon stood, his heeled shoes clicked against the stage as he walked towards Swan, who stared at his master with his mouth agape. “Swan, you will open The Paradise according to Mr. Leach’s artistic vision, and you will do it no questions asked. I will give you your Philbin and your Beef back, but that is only because I have grown interested in how those two…solve their own problems. I will be keeping an eye on things here; it has become apparent that you need me to keep you in line.”
A third shuddery gasp came from the depths of the crowd, Philbin had been revived, coughing and spluttering. Somewhere, in the city, Beef’s cold body righted itself on its examination table and was making its way back towards The Paradise, ignoring the calls of scared doctors and nurses and exiting the hospital like a man possessed.
The Devil turned back to Winslow and Phoenix “And Mr. Leach?”
All Winslow was able to reply with was one raspy “...yes?”
“My only request is that you find something for my Juicy Fruits in your Faust. They are beloved to me.”
Satan’s smile grew impossibly wide when Winslow returned that request with a nod. With a puff of foul-smelling smoke, the demon was gone. The crowd began to file out shortly after, mindlessly shambling out of The Paradise like zombies.
Phoenix continued to cry as the audience members brushed past her, though she had no more tears to give. Frail arms wrapped around her shoulders and she recognized with immense grief that Winslow was trying to comfort her.
She has no idea what this future will hold, or where they’ll begin to make it happen. But unfortunately, they were along for the ride.