The Path to Mephistopheles by Caspar Ambrose (best non fiction books to read txt) 📕

even contemplating it.”

The La Tour Shinjuku Grand held a spectacular view of the Shinjuku area. They had moved into the penthouse about one year prior, exactly one year into her contract. He had no idea why he had done it, he found it nice to have some relatable company, and overall she was a good companion to have around. The problem he now faced was whether or not he would complete the contract she had made with him two years ago.

The door to the apartment opened, causing Thornburg to let out a deep sigh as he turned from the view. He knew he would have to make a decision today. She knew it as well, leaving him curious to see what her actions would be tonight.

She walked through the doorway and into the living room where he was standing, smoking a cigarette.

“That dress looks magnificent on you,” Thornburg commented, it was the dress he had bought her about two weeks prior, a beautiful jade green dress custom made by Yohji Yamamoto. Right now he didn’t think it would look better on any other woman in the world.

“Thank you darling,” she smiled and walked closer to him. “I wish I could say the same for you, but it seems that something is troubling you today.”

“Don’t be so light with the matter,” Thornburg spat out, causing her to retreat momentarily. “You know as well as I do what the matter at hand….”

Before he could speak anymore she was in front of him. Her hands snaked out around his neck and her lips dancing off his as she tried to bring him back to the present. He slowly returned the motion, his lips playing off of hers, just as he had done many times in the past year. He began to lose himself in her body, grabbing her by the legs and pulling her up to his height before pressing her delicate body into the window.

Everything seemed different this time, even though they had made love a multitude of times before, the moment at hand was more intense than he had before experienced with her. His lips moved sensually from her mouth to her neck, specifically the spot below her left ear which always got her. She let out a soft moan at this, just as he knew she would.

“For tonight my love,” she spoke breathily. “For tonight let us forget about this trifling matter. We have each other so isn’t that enough?”

He didn’t feel like talking, he knew nothing good could come of it. Five minutes before she had walked into the room he had been debating about killing her, so what good could possibly come of talk now. No, he would let his emotions guide him tonight, and hopefully the answer would come in the morn.

With this fading thought both bodies crashed to the ground, clothes being strewn about the room in the process. Both looked like animals, even more so after Thornburg pulled the polar bear fur blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around the two. What started out as the independent movements of two people quickly intertwined, creating one body with which both were trying to occupy. Thornburg had slowed down his thrusting to match the slow manner with which she was proceeding. It seemed like an eternity that both laid there, lost in each other’s bodies. If the world had ended at that moment then they would have known only each other. Finally, after about one and a half hours of ecstasy, both accomplished their goal of one mind and body, flowing into each other in a breathtaking climax.

Neither one of them spoke for at least ten minutes, each juxtaposing his and her own thoughts against the bustling night life of Shinjuku below them. The neon lights and tens upon thousands of people mingling and moving about like ants seemed to provide a framework for Thornburg to place his thoughts. Each of the people below, like him was looking to someone or something else to provide meaning in life. It seemed that somehow he had found just the person for that in his life. Even though her love had begun as an attempt to save her life, the consecration which had occurred only moments ago had come from a different place, though he hated the discontent that it brought to his mind.

“Tell me Harry,” she broke the silence. “Just how did you get all of this money, and how did it drive you to make these contracts with people?”

Thornburg sighed, summoning the thoughts which he could put into words, words which would have to express the horrors which had led him to this place.

“My first hundred thousand dollars came from my father after his death,” began Thornburg. He wrapped his arms around her and looked where her eyes had been focusing. She had been looking at a particularly crowded crosswalk, at the moment he guessed at least a few thousand people were trying to cross the street at once. “My father was head of a crime syndicate based out of New York. When he died I began working under his successor, learning the arts of taking people’s lives. For each person I was sent to kill, twenty thousand dollars was my reward. I knew the only way to get out of the life was with large sums of money, so I began to take from my victims, cutting part of the profits in with my employer. At the age of twenty-five I finally had enough to break away from my contract. Three years later I made my first contract, I gave the man the use of fifty million dollars with the same conditions I’ve used ever since, two years of life in exchange. I’ve given out ten contracts to date including your own. At the end of each of these contracts I absorb any assets and wealth which have been purchased by the taker of the contract. I started this out with nearly one hundred million dollars and have managed to double my wealth with almost every contract. I started these contracts to try and make a change in this world. I tried to pick unique individuals who had a chance of bringing about unique changes. Unfortunately they have all failed my expectations, all drowning under the weight of the money.”

“So why did you pick me for a contract?”

“Because of the look of determination I saw in your eyes. You seemed just desperate enough to make that change I’ve been looking for.”

At this a few tears came down her face. She rolled over and looked Thornburg in the eyes, seeming to contemplate something.

“I hated what he had done to me, what he had taken from me.”

“Who?” Thornburg queried.

“My ex-husband,” she replied after a few moments. “We were married for about two years. I met him in America then moved to his homeland of England. Everything was perfect at first. But as his wealth started to grow so did his cupidity. I couldn’t stand it anymore after those two years, he was constantly having affairs and the drugs were threatening to drown us both. Our final blowout was the night before I met you. I told him I was leaving, which pleased him none. He threw me to the ground and raped me, the last words I heard from him were that I was part of his possessions. My mind and body was his. That is why I was going to kill myself. I could never let him control me.”

Thornburg held tightened his hold around her, bringing her in closer to his body. He knew it would probably be a mistake but he needed another opinion on the matter. Dastun had said he should kill her. She chose to spend her time and money with him, but a contract was a contract. He just didn’t know if he could kill her. He would need a little more time with his thoughts, somewhere he could be away from her.

“In the morning I will be leaving for a week,” Thornburg said to her. “When I return, a decision will be made as to your fate. You can be here waiting for me or you can try to run, either way I will find you.”

“So that is where things reside as of now is it?” Stalls had just finished his whiskey. “Harry Thornburg, confused and in love. It is an interesting predicament indeed.”

“Cut the shit Richard. I came to you for advice, now let’s hear some.”

Stall’s sat for a few moments, contemplating the man in front of him and all that had been revealed over the past hour.

“I think, my friend, that this is a decision you are going to have to come to on your own,” Stall’s said as he arose from his seat behind the desk. “Though I do think that no matter the decision, you will be stronger when this is all done.”

Thornburg also rose, shaking the hand offered to him before both man embraced in a hug. It would be another two years most likely before they would see each other again. Then Thornburg emptied his glass of whiskey and set it on the desk before head out.

“Goodbye friend,” said Thornburg.

He grabbed his jacket from the chair and walked out of the office, giving a smile to the secretary as he passed. He proceeded to the parking garage down the street where he had shelled out eighty dollars to park. Nothing he worried over, but incredulous none the less he thought as he paid the man after the short walk, his thoughts adrift about the current situation.

As he parked the Koenigsegg Agera R he kept for driving in Tokyo later the next day, his thoughts were more resolute.

Part of the reason he had selected this apartment was because of the high degree of security and privacy the place offered. The staff was courteous, and all knew what was going on while on shift. They made sure to keep anyone who didn’t belong from even making it in, as most of the tenants were relatively affluent people in society. Giving Thornburg the assurance he needed that anyone unhappy with him wouldn’t find him.
They had negotiated a one year lease with the option to renew for an extra three years, at her insisting. He had let her carry out her fantasy, knowing that this day would come, but it seemed in the end that it was really her who had been running a game on him. The Ferrari she had purchased was still in its spot, so if she had run then she had gone on foot, having a disliking of cabs. He would know soon enough.

The elevator ride to the forty-fourth floor was brief, the miracle of modern day elevators. It left him little time to rethink his decision. As they had rented the penthouse, the elevator took him directly into the entry hallway. He pulled his gun from the holster he kept under his jacket. He never kept it on him, instead renting out a storage facility in Shibuya to store it. He rarely needed it so it was no problem to keep it locked up for long periods, better than to be tried under Japanese gun laws. A silencer was in his pocket, which he attached to the gun. He put the gun behind his back and proceeded into the living room where she was standing at the window. He slid the gun into the band around his pants, not wanting to shoot out the window, and moved towards her.

“Have you