Bastian
Chapter 163 - A Wild Beast Tied to a Rope

✧A Wild Beast Tied to a Rope✧

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“The funeral went well.” Maria Gross said in a low voice. It was the sound of a deep sigh that disappeared into the deep silence of the room.

   Bastian put down his tea cup, catching a glimpse of his fathers mansion through the window. He quickly turned his gaze back to Maria and smiled. Overwhelmed by Bastian’s heartless look, she went back to drinking her own tea, wishing she hadn’t said anything.

   Theodora had killed her husband with a poisoned bottle of whiskey, before turning a gun on herself and committing suicide. She didn’t leave a note or farewell letter. It was almost as if this last act was intentionally orchestrated to produce controversy and intrigue, and because of that, the funeral was attended by more reporters and journalists than friends and family. There was a forecast of even more excitement tomorrow, over Bastian Klauswitz, who never showed up.

   “I don’t mean to sound sincere, hers was an unforgivable sin that can not be redeemed by death, but wouldn’t you be better off paying your respects? There is really no need to be creating such problems,” Maria said, trying to appeal to Bastian’s humanity.

   Bastian smiled, his eyebrows twitching as he opened a cigarette box without saying a word. He politely offered Maria one first, before taking one for himself.

   Maria took one and lit it herself, all the while looking at Bastian with resignation. Through the grey smoke, he looked detached to her, as if he had nothing to do with the tragedy. Maria felt uneasy in his presence, as he sat there like a podium winner.  She reminisced about a past event when she found him had drowned in the sea and was attacked by a dog.

He had changed, Maria was sure of that.

   Bastian has achieved so much through his skilful manipulations and management. He was an actor who could play any roll that was needed, and an acrobat who could balance on the thinnest wire. He probably knew better than anyone what was best, but he continued to make self-destructive choices.

   “Bastian, would you like to stay with me for awhile?”

   Bastian turned from the window, where he had been looking out over the sea. Even though he looked as cool and ambitious as he had always done, Maria couldn’t help but feel unease as he considered her with his cool, blue eyes.

   “Thank you for the offer, but I will be fine.”

   “Think on it, seriously, it can’t be good for you to live in the shadow of the house your father died in.”

   “Don’t worry about that, it will soon disappear.” Bastian spoke like he was talking about the weather.

   Maria got a shock when she realised Bastian was talking literally. “Oh my god, Bastian, if you destroy that house, public opinion of you will get even worse.”

   “It doesn’t matter, we are already finalising the demolition procedure, the house will be gone by the end of the summer.” Bastian reached over to grab a glass of water, where his wristwatch slipped to reveal a scar.

   “Your wrist, what happened?” Maria said, shocked.

   “It’s nothing, I got hurt while training,” Bastian said flatly.

   “Well then, I guess now that you’ve achieved everything you’ve set out to do, I suppose you will be thinking about retiring. If things continue in this way, every part of your body will be at risk of getting hurt.”

“It’s just a light scrape. It’s nothing to worry about.”

   Despite being shackled by all kinds of doubt and accusations, Bastian still managed to rise to the top. He became a person of reverence and contempt in equal measure. The fact that he was still favoured by the Emperor, despite abandoning his wife, the Emperor’s niece, contributed greatly to the fear of him.

   There might have been turmoil for a while, but Bastian had grown so big that he didn’t fear anything and Jeff Klauswitz was a prime example of what happened to those who tried to oppose him. 

Fear was indeed a powerful force and Maria felt like she no longer needed to worry after her nephew. He would overcome any crises, but she still worried about the emptiness growing in his heart.

Would it have been better for him to hold onto the foolish love?

Suddenly, a hint of regret washed over her, but she concealed it well.  “Oh, actually, Theodora did send me a letter,” Maria said, rummaging through her handbag. “It arrived the day after everything happened. It’s addressed to you, however. I guess she hoped I would pass it on and so, here it is.” Maria put the letter on the table. “I honestly didn’t know what her plan was and I did think of throwing it away, so, I guess I will leave that decision to you.”

In order to start anew, he needed to witness a complete end. Maria held the belief that Theodora’s letter might, in some way, bring an end to their long and tumultuous relationship.

   Having achieved what she had set out to do, Maria got up, Bastian following suit. He placed the letter in an inside pocket and escorted Maria to the door.

   “If you change your mind, about staying with me for a time, you can contact me via the usual methods.”

   “Yes, I will,” Bastian said distantly. 

A hollow laugh flowed from Maria’s lips as she stared at his fascinating face.  It seemed that Bastian was determined to protect this grave until the bitter end.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

The rope tightened, causing the bed to creak and groan under the effort. Something had to give and with a concerted effort and a last groan of aching wood, the rope went slack again.

   The noise in the room was replaced by the sounds of ragged breathing. The rope tied around his wrist was tight and the more he struggled, the tighter the rope became. He was like a trapped beast, who would thrash around until exhausted, then collapse in a sweating heap. Blood trickled from the exposed flesh, where the rope had rubbed it raw. His vacant expression remained calm.

   Lying on the floor, he convulsed and moaned for a while, until his breathing slowed and he drifted back into calm sleep. He didn’t open his eyes until the first rays of morning shine in through a slither of a gap in the curtains.

The room, bathed in the tranquil blue dawn light pouring in through the window, had the sensation of being submerged in deep water.

Slowly and awkwardly sitting up, he could see that the handkerchief he had put under the ropes, to catch the blood, had slipped away and was no where to be seen. Shaking away the drowsiness from his mind, he untied the knot of the rope around his wrist.

   His nightmares were growing more cruel. He dreamed of a young child, holding his mothers hand as they enjoyed their time together. Just a normal day as a happy family. He had hoped that the sleeping pills he got from Doctor Kramer would put him under deep enough to prevent his sleep walking, but the rub of the rope on his wrists would suggest otherwise.

After the fading remnants of the dream dissipated, Bastian rose from bed and made his way to the bathroom. He splashed his face vigorously with ice-cold water, drenching his nightshirt until it adhered to his skin. After returning to the bedroom, his face had visibly transformed from the tumultuous night when the disturbance had taken place.

   After gulping down most of the water in the jug on the bedside table, he got out of his sweat drenched pyjamas and put on a robe. He then cleaned the rope burn and bandaged the raw flesh. He didn’t feel any pain from it, but it looked angry as he wrapped it.

   Plucking up a strong cigar, he went out onto the balcony to watch the morning sun grow stronger. He gazed across the glittering sea, where the darkness was receding across his fathers world.

   He found small comfort in his fathers demise, he had finally got payback for all the wrongs Jeff had done to Bastian’s mother and as a bonus, his step-mother was right there beside him. He wanted to give back everything he received.

   With all his heart, he had loved someone who betrayed him, endured hellish torment and ultimately wished for the destruction he had orchestrated with his own hands. Even though everything had gone according plan, there was still a lingering sense of regret.

Brushing off the lingering ash, Bastian returned to his room and got ready for the day.   When he removed his robe to get showered, he saw it, the letter from Theodora Klauswitz. He had not opened it yet. 

The dawn’s sunlight, piercing through the sea, unveiled the concealed scars lurking in the darkness. Placing the cigar between his teeth, Bastian unceremoniously ripped open the envelope and read the letter.

You must believe you’ve won, Bastian, but have you really?|

Theodora’s will began with a mocking question penned in elegant handwriting.

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