The Devil and the Red Ribbon

by Theo Rion

  “Never would have thought,” John smiled.

  “What?” Kurt asked.

  “That you would agree to a fight with me. Do you think you stand a chance?” John laughed.

  “We’ll see.” Kurt smiled.

  “It’s not a poker game and talk won’t get you out of it, I will show no mercy, though it’s not because I’m angry. To my own surprise, I’m not.”

  “I was more surprised by your revelation of yesterday.” Kurt looked at him and tilted his head. He wanted to continue the conversation. Obviously, John was ready for it, because his expression changed to bored-indifferent.

  “What’s so strange, Kurt? Don’t play the fool! Probably you’ve already sketched my portrait in your head. And who am I? A proud dandy, spitting on rules and accepted standards? But the main thing is that I’m proud,” John said and smiled predatorily.

  “Why do you want me to think about you like that? There’s some other reason, isn’t there?”

  John laughed.

  “Yes, Kurt, it’s a funny thing about you. You’re always looking for a false bottom, even if it isn’t there. Now you’ll say a hopeless romantic is locked deep in my heart. He was rejected by this cruel world, and having worn this scary mask, I began to take my revenge?”

  “You tell me, Mr. Fenririr.”

  “Madness I find funny, and sex is the end of fun.”

  “It is strange to hear that from you.”

  “What’s so strange about it? Judge for yourself, Kurt. In bed with the beauty you spend even the whole night, and you drink her to the bottom. And bring her to a frenzy over and over again, leaving on the edge; I can do this indefinitely. Women below the belt are all the same, but their sufferings at least create some diversity. And then, Kurt, I don’t have to tell you how many soothers revolve around me. And many of them are ready to forget the recognized standards and sit at my feet bare-naked, with eyes full of adoration, guts burning with desire. Why should I put out such a fire?” John’s eyes looked greedily at Kurt. “In love, you don’t behold the entire depth, and only sufferings open the abyss. Look, I spoke like a poet!” John laughed again.

  Meanwhile they turned into a narrow alley, where from house to house there was only about six feet, but it was a shortcut to the main street. However, being in such a narrow passage, Kurt somehow felt uncomfortable. Feelings of anxiety returned, and he could not drive them away. From the corner of the passageway, three young men came out to meet them. They wore masks and held sticks in their hands. Kurt’s eye caught a movement behind him, and, turning, he saw there were two more young men, these armed with iron bars.

  John also saw them. “How surprising,” he drawled with a shadow of irony in his voice.

  “Do you think, Mr. Fenririr?” Kurt gave him a quick look. “At least, if we end up in hospital, you will be able to tell me many stories.”

  Kurt noticed a pointed stick against the wall a foot away from him, so he quickened his pace and grabbed it. Seeing him move, the five young men rushed to the attack. Oddly enough, Kurt wasn’t afraid; he wielded the stick as a sword, and in this he was skilled. The passage was narrow, so the attackers could not hit him at once. Kurt vanquished them one by one.

  Knowledge, gained in the past, came to life in his memory. As an adolescent, he received an excellent physical education, learning fencing and shot. He wasn’t afraid to strike and beat with stinging accuracy and composure worthy of the bravest warrior. His teachers had suggested where and how hard he should hit, so Kurt easily dealt with the five attackers in a few minutes without getting a scratch. He was amazed, but something told him the reason for this victory. Kurt flew at one of the attackers and pinned him to the wall. “Who hired you?” he shouted in the man’s face.

  “Why are you terrorizing the small one?” John, who had just stood by and watched, suddenly spoke up.

  “He was in charge; they didn’t move without his command,” Kurt said and again shook the man. “Who hired you?” But the lad didn’t answer, weakly covering his face. Kurt spun around, releasing the ruffian, and glared at John. “This is your doing,” Kurt said calmly. “I don’t like that you’re trying to make a fool of me.”

  Kurt threw the stick down, stepped over the unlucky fighters lying on the ground and came out of the alley. John caught up with him. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked darkly.

  “You rigged it all, Mr. Fenririr. Their chief often looked at you, like he was more afraid of your violence than mine, and you didn’t take part in the fight, because you knew what would happen. You just wanted to pay me back, and I confess I wasn’t ready for such meanness,” Kurt said, his disappointment showing in his voice.

  “Well, you can assume you won again, so I owe you a revelation.”

  “Why do you think I need it now?” Kurt stopped and turned to John, studying him with cold eyes. He looked at John with complete indifference. “Your sordid deeds speak louder than your words.”

  John didn’t answer him, and Kurt went on his way again. John caught up with him and for a while walked silently next to Kurt.

  “Come on, take it easy,” John finally said, but Kurt didn’t even look back. “Kurt!” John stopped him, grabbing his shoulder, but Kurt shrugged off his hand and turned, his face flushed with rage.

  He raised his hand to strike, but John saw it and leaned to the side. Kurt felt the urge to calm down and go away, but it was obvious John wouldn’t be satisfied with such an outcome. On the contrary, Kurt’s anger provoked him and lit a smile on his face. He hit Kurt easily, as if giving him an insulting slap. Without knowing why, Kurt could no longer restrain himself. He rushed at John, not calculating forces and not thinking about anything. Pure anger fueled him. Oddly, it was enough to knock John off his feet.

  The fight turned into a scuffle in the dust. As they rolled around, throwing punches, sharp rocks tore their clothes, and fists left bruises and wounds. But neither Kurt nor John felt the pain. Kurt put so much force into every blow it seemed to him his hits had to incapacitate John on the spot. But with burning eyes and the same smile on his face, John continued to throw punches.

  They were stopped by a whistle. It came from a distance. John was quicker. He jumped to his feet and grabbed Kurt, who didn’t fully understand what was happening, and dragged him to a lane, and from there to another street. Seeing a coach on the wayside, John ran to it and literally shoved Kurt inside. Throwing the cabby a sovereign, John shouted an address and climbed inside.

  In the carriage John relaxed, leaned back and looked at Kurt with a smile. Kurt, however, continued frowning. “Maybe, if you could wipe off that dreary face, we can assume we’re even,” John said good-naturedly.

  “How come?” Kurt replied coldly. “It doesn’t cancel out your meanness. I would say, on the contrary, it makes it worse.”

  John became serious. “Come on, Kurt. You know perfectly well I don’t regret anything and I’m not going to. And I know perfectly well you need these matches no less than me. So, I suggest to assume that we’re even.”

  Kurt didn’t answer and looked out the window. They spent some time in silence. John surveyed Kurt’s ruined suit and laughed. It was difficult for Kurt to understand what was so funny. In contrast, Kurt looked at John’s suit, or rather what was left of it, and found he didn’t want to laugh at all.

  “Are you going to be quiet all the way home?” John asked.

  “Mr. Fenririr, I can’t express how disappointed I am in you. We agreed on the matches! Fair matches! Okay, you don’t care about the rules, and you do what you want to do. But I’ll tell you what. For me, there are two options when a person violates his word or agreement. Either you consider yourself worthless, so your words carry no weight, in which case, it makes no sense to keep your word to me or anyone else. Or you consider me as nothing, which is likely. Thus, you have no need to keep your word to me, especially since I’m not from your complement of suitors,” Kurt said calmly and coldly. “I know that, and you know that, but I thought, d
espite your reputation, you had dignity. The subterfuge of this evening showed me I was wrong. And further, I couldn’t care less.”

  “There he goes!” John smiled. The carriage stopped in front of Kurt’s new home and Kurt rose from his coach seat. “Good luck, Mr. Fenririr, in finding a new toy.” Kurt slammed out of the coach and strode down the road, leaving John behind.

  When Kurt came home and slammed the front door, Edna was ready to serve dinner. “Good evening, Mr. Rhein,” she greeted him. Suddenly the door opened, and John entered after Kurt. “G-good evening, Mr. Fenririr.”

  Kurt walked into the living room, with John stamping after him. Edna watched them with amazement, wondering about their dirty, disheveled appearance. She jumped when the door slammed behind them.

  “Mr. Fenririr, maybe you should leave and go home?”

  “You said yourself, I do what I want.” John’s mood had changed. Now there was cold hostility in his voice. He sat in a chair by the fire that had been kindled. Kurt gazed at him with a bored look. John was angry, and the vein pumped on his forehead. “Edna!” John called to the maid loudly. She came in, looking around fearfully. “What’s for dinner?” he asked her.

  “Roast beef.”

  “Perfect!” John exclaimed, as if he were the host here. “Set the table. I’m hungry.”

  “But, Mr. Fenririr…” She tried to protest, but stumbled upon his glance. Finally, she nodded and left.

  Kurt sighed and shook his head. He wanted peace. He wanted to get rid of John’s presence. But it was obvious John had other plans. “You’re exceedingly aggravating,” Kurt said and turned to the window. “Is it so hard for you to apologize?” Strangely, he felt John’s emotions through his skin. Beneath, he throbbed with anger, all the way to his bones. Uncaring about the consequences, he understood John could be dangerous, but it didn’t scare him. More precisely, if he had fear, now it was weaker than his other feelings.

  Instead of answering, there was a rumble behind Kurt as John stood up from his seat. “Don’t overreach yourself, Kurt!” John growled.

  Kurt slowly turned to him. He was standing by the fireplace, his eyes filled with rage and animalistic fire. Kurt felt John might rush at him. Kurt waited, his knuckles aching. He easily discerned each mark he had left on John’s face, and would be happy to add more to them if that’s what John wanted.

  “Oh, great. Great, Mr. Fenririr,” Kurt’s voice sounded like metal. “What’s next? Hmm? Break all the vases? Tear all the portraits to shreds? You can’t do anything else, as far as I can see. It’s much easier than admitting you were wrong.”

  John slowly approached him, coming so close they could see the specks of color in each other’s eyes. Kurt didn’t feel fear; he didn’t even feel a sense of ardor. He just knew he wasn’t going to back down and grovel before this grotesque king.

  “What are you waiting for, Mr. Fenririr?” Kurt snapped. John’s eyes gazed at him for a few seconds.

  “You have grown bolder,” John said through gritted teeth. “Do you want me to break your face so badly? Well, I don’t want to spoil it yet.”

  “Why bother?”

  “I like your face. Why should I deprive myself of the pleasure of looking at it?” John was still gazing at him. But his anger faded, giving way to a very different expression.

  John’s words caught Kurt by surprise. He didn’t know what to say. In some ways, he was hoping for a predictable cruelty, and then he wouldn’t have so many choices, but it could be said that John had beaten him. And the same expression of pleasure was in his eyes. It was difficult to compete with John. He, more than anyone Kurt had ever encountered, was able to change the atmosphere by a glance, a curl of his lips or even the tilt of his head. His emotions flooded the room, and it was hard not to be swept up by the tide.

  “What a clumsy attempt at flattery, Mr. Fenririr,” Kurt said coldly.

  “Well, I’m not an old hand at it. I’m usually on the other side,” John grinned. “But there’s something in you.” John turned and looked around the room. “Something interesting. For the first time in a long time I’ve let someone into my life who’s more than a toy for fun. Yet, you amuse me more than all my toys. You have no blind adoration of me, but there’s no arrogance and anger, there’s no familiarity. Maybe you’re the first person I don’t want to use as a doormat.”

  “Like I would ever let you do that,” Kurt replied calmly.

  John smiled and continued. “You’re the only person whose reaction I can’t predict. And worse, I can’t evoke the reaction I need. And yes, perhaps that is what’s interesting in you. But at some point, I think I’ll get tired of your recalcitrance.”

  “Then each of us will go our separate ways, Mr. Fenririr, that’s all,” Kurt concluded indifferently.

  “I don’t think I can go my way, knowing there’s a person like you out there,” John said, keeping his eyes on Kurt’s face. The atmosphere began to change rapidly, pulling Kurt’s attitude along with it.

  “Dinner’s ready.” Edna had cautiously peered into the room and again hurried away.

  “Just in time,” John said, not taking his eyes off Kurt.

  “I didn’t invite you to stay for dinner, Mr. Fenririr.”

  “Come on!” John exclaimed, portraying offense.

  “And you owe me an apology for your meanness. Otherwise, our matches are off.” Kurt’s voice sounded serious. John’s look instantly grew gloomy.

  “I owe nothing to anybody, Kurt,” he said and headed to leave. Kurt decided to walk with him. Just in case.

  At the gate of the garden, John stopped. “Okay,” John said suddenly.

  “What?” Kurt didn’t understand.

  “What I told you in the living room, it was my revelation. And instead of the apology, I’ll let you hit me in the face. As hard as you can for all that you think I deserve. I promise I won’t hit back. That’s all I can offer you.” He grinned.

  Kurt studied his face in the dusk of approaching night, but he didn’t see any sign John was joking. And this was an element of John’s personality Kurt didn’t want to forget. It was his first real victory over John. He had been able to tread a thin blade on the other side, where the fortress, at first glance, seemed impregnable, lay—John’s soul.

  “Is it easier to get hit in the face than to apologize?”

  “Bear in mind, I won’t give you a second chance,” John said and stared at Kurt. At first, he wanted to protest, but some inner force intercepted his thoughts. Kurt swung back and, having collected the remains of his anger and resentment, hit John’s cheekbone. John flinched, but didn’t fall down.

  “Damn bastard!” he cried, turning away and rubbing his cheek. Kurt approached him.

  “Mr. Fenririr…”

  “And one more thing!” John shouted furiously. “Another Mr. Fenririr out of you and I’ll break your face!” John spat on the ground. “I told you that you need these matches as much as me.” He smirked. “Now we’re even!”

  “Now, we’re even, John,” Kurt replied with a smile.

  “That’s better.” John grinned, and then left for his mansion.

  Chapter 13

  The next day, Kurt returned to his old house. He wanted to be alone, as if to ask for support from the home walls.

  He went into the study and sat down in his chair. It was quiet, and Kurt allowed himself to relax. Over the last few days. he hadn’t been able to afford this simple pleasure. Constant stress required tremendous mental efforts. Kurt had to think quickly and, most importantly, act quickly.

  Sometimes he wondered if it was worth contriving all this. This desire to get to John’s soul had been bothering him since their first meeting; however, now the reason had changed.

  Silence seemed precious bliss, where, hidden from the world, Kurt could think about everything he wanted, but he could not think of anything, except John and his next step.

  Kurt made tea, but just as he sat back in his chair, there was a knock on the door.


  It was a postman with a letter for Kurt. Thanking the postman, Kurt returned to his room, sat in the chair and opened the letter.

  It was from Mr. McGlow…

  Dear Mr. Rhein,

  Once again, I would like to express my gratitude that you rose to my defense on that memorable day. Especially because now I have such an opportunity. My colleagues from France are interested in my theory and have even invited me to work in Paris, but unfortunately, I’m too old for such long journeys. So I immediately thought of you. Knowing your passion for psychology in general and techniques of hypnosis in particular, I thought that you could go to Paris and make a contribution to the development of psychology. From my side, I promise to provide you with full support and convey all the necessary materials from my work. If you want to meet and discuss it in person, I will be very happy to see you.

  Sincerely,

  Mr. S. McGlow.

  Kurt thought about the letter, about this unexpected proposal. There was something tempting about it, because he would be so far away even John couldn’t easily find him.

  Tea and silence wrapped him in a cozy atmosphere, and his mind became light as a feather. He felt a treacherous weakness of the soul. He wanted to lock the doors, pull the curtains across the windows, crawl under a blanket and spend a week without thinking about John, travelling instead through the valleys of his dreams, where no sound was alarming and his soul was filled with delight.

  Not delaying, Kurt began to write a letter to McGlow with expressions of gratitude and respect.

  * * * *

  The restaurant Stella Ground was considered one of the most respected places in London, where a gentleman could satisfy his physical hunger by eating delicious roast beef as well as satisfy his spiritual appetite by talking about politics and culture with other honorable gentlemen. Kurt had heard about this place and been a guest several times, but each time he had found the atmosphere too pretentious. Here, even the waiters looked down on everyone. Kurt missed Ellington’s, his affable host, tasty and simple food, and, most importantly, the people. That place was distinguished by its cordiality. And Kurt hadn’t thought about it before; there had been no need. But now he clearly felt the contrast between the public he was surrounded by now and the one he was surrounded before.