short story: Death By A Great Beauty

Sigfrid walked towards the opera house in florence, his fingers forcefully gripping the crutches so as to not fall and make a mockery of himself. The rain felt like small bullets on his heads and shoulders and his coat was drenched and dragged behind him at every step. He stood for a moment by the entrance in absolute silence and admired the greatness of the building. The crowd of people were all malevolent and suspicious looking, but The giant twin gargoyles perched on each side reassured him of his fate, they seemed to be protecting something, perhaps the building or the fair city of florence or perhaps everything beautiful and delicate in the world. He entered and hoped that Don Giovanni would be as brilliant as it had been rumored to be and as earth shattering.

An old lady sat to his right, she was in her late 50s, and although still pretty for her age all one could see was a necklace she wore that surely weighed more than her and covered the entirety of her chest. To her right sat what one would presume to be her daughter or perhaps her granddaughter, with her slim figure and rose colored cheeks Sigfrid thought her to be a vision of pure adolescent beauty. He gazed at her and kept his gaze until she smiled, this was a thing sigfrid was not accustomed to; he began to blush but was interrupted by the first note as it hit the air and echoed in the theatre. The lights began to dim and the first actor stepped onto the stage. Out of the dark a violin began to play in a subtle four note pizzicato, a piano joined in harmony in glorious arpegius to give permission to the actor who now jumped and soared through the air while a voice that could not belong to a man, but to a god escaped his lips and shook the very floor in which sigfrid sat. He could not believe his eyes nor his ears, the play ended as it began, wonderfully, sigfrid thought.

On his way home Sigfrid came across the lady with the necklace and her daughter as they were entering a carriage. The girls eyes and sigfrids met and sigfrids grip on his crutch loosened, his knees buckled as his foot slipped and he hit the ground like a marionette whose strings were suddenly cut. He picked himself up onto his knees as blood trickled down his nose coloring the wet sidewalk of the florentine street. Before sigfrid knew of it the girl was upon him, her hand reached out in a most sincere gesture of kindness, bathed in rays of sunlight she looked almost like a statue of the most refined marble, carved by the most refined artist. He could not take it, his hand were dirty, he was dirty and he chose not to make her dirty. He stared at the ground until she stepped away. Her mother moved quickly towards sigfrid and forcefully pulled him of the ground, and dragged him to the carriage before a crowd drew to his place like vultures to death. And then there was only neighing and whispers of wind as the horses raced to the ladies estate.

what is your name? the lady asked his head resting gently on her lap. Sigfrid was startled, he sat up and saw the Girl sitting across him in the carriage. He could see her more clearly now, she wore a white dress under a black coat, her auburn hair looked almost red in the moonlight and gracefully floated on her forehead so meticulously to cover one eye; it was almost an art. Her cheeks were full, she had small cherry red lips and a nose to match. He wanted so badly to hear her laugh, he knew in his heart that if he heard it once he would be a man who had lived.
- my name is Silvia Sforza and my Daughters name is Katerina Sforza. We moved from milano a fortnight ago and have yet to acquire any true friends in florence, which is mostly the reason as to why i was so inclined to kidnapping you. She said; Sigfrid noticed a hint of flirtation in her voice but choice to ignore it.
- I am Sigfrid, Charles Sigfrid. I myself am also a guest in this wondrous city of Florence and It’s an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance my lady Silvia, Lady Katerina…
- Call me Terra, Katerina said.
- Terra? He asked.
- It means “Earth”
- I know. He said, but why would someone of your divine beauty be content with a name such as terra when she could name herself “cielo” after the heavens, with which she has a greater likeness.
Before anyone could speak the carriage came to a halt. Sigfrid descended as did the rest. He now stood in front of great house at the foot of a mountain, “it almost covered the whole horizon” sigfrid thought. The stables alone were twice the size of the house Sigfrid and his father shared. a feeling of envy began to arise which was trumped by a feeling of hunger.
- Mr Sigfrid, we would be honored if you would stay and dine with us, Silvia said.
- The honor would be all mine my good lady, but i would hate to be a burden…
- Nonsense. she replied. on the contrary, tell him that it is so Katerina. 
- It is so. Katerina whispered and hurried her way in to the house.

The creatures of the night arose later that evening to the pleasured moans of miss Silvia Sforza. The bed shook at its core and the two planets on her chest trembled and dangled in front of his face, as she rode him like a carrousel of flesh. Sigfrid stayed plastered to the mattress his thoughts deep in contemplation and in conversation with Teddy, who at this moment was his only friend and his only solace.
- Teddy. Can i stop now, i think she has had enough.
- I think it is you who has had enough Siggy.
- What is that supposed to mean?
- It means you need to relax and remember.
- Remember what exactly.
- The reason why you need to fuck her before you kill her. 
- It being?
- It being that there has to be life before death. Life meaning sex in this sence of the word, meaning you need to fuck her and you need to so roughly, with an ecstasy to last her through river styx and into the afterlife…
- meaning i get to fuck her daughter afterward?
- you will burn that bridge once you get to it.
- I am not burning her!
- Its a english figure of speech you german inbred: you don’t burn her, you burn a bridge, a figurative one. .
- I am not burning anything!
-What? said Silvia confused. 
Sigfrid reacted instinctively and grabbed her by the neck. Silvia’s face lit up at first with delight and excitement believing that Sigfrid meant to choke her only to increase her sexual pleasure until his grip tightened and she began to turn blue.
- You were not supposed to hear that Silvia. He flipped himself of of her in a singular movement. Her back on the bed. She began flailing with her arms in a last attempt to claw his face off, before the life could slowly seep through her lungs and she struck him, blood began to drip from his eye and this angered sigfrid. He saw a candlestick on the night, still lit, he got a hold of it and swung it backwards, the fire blew out and sigfrid could almost not see the expression of true horror on Silvia’s face as he jabbed the candlestick where there was once a beautiful necklace; he jabbed again and again and again until he could jab no more.

Sigfrid was stumbling in the halls looking for a way out, away from all the blood and death. He wanted to leave and forget everything and was almost at the door when he saw a small light flicker in the wind and a silhouette of a girl cover the wall. He turned around, stumbled his way back across the corridor and saw her. Katerina stood there, combing her hair she looked to sigfrid exactly as the devil would describe temptation, and as the angels would describe their sole envy. She wore an almost transparent nightgown, the silky garment caressing her porcelain skin as the fingers of Don juan demarco would caress her, Sigfrid thought. And not as mine would. She saw his reflection through the mirror and did not fright, she turned and waved her hand with a sprezzatura of thousand water lilies floating on a pond, or of a swan with a certain elegant nonchalance to her movements that it almost always appeared theatrical. She opened her mouth to speak but sigfrid could not hear her. He was far gone, he was overwhelmed, he had gone to venus and back and was now swimming in the bottomless ocean and the endless galaxy that was her eyes.

She moved towards him, took his hand and ushered him into the room. There was a mirror, a bed and a piano. A few art covered the walls and shelves contained books of John Keats, of Emily Dickinson, and of Lord Byron.
- She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies. One shade the more, one ray the less, had half impaired the nameless grace.
- You quote Byron. katerina said, impressive. of whom else are you familiar.
- Shall i compare thee to a summers day…
- Shakespeare! she said with a smirk and a giggle interrupting him mid soliloquy. Everyone is familiar with Shakespeare. someone else.
- I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the hearts affection.
- Keats! How wonderful.
- I am sorry, but i do not know any of Emily Dickinson
- Thats a pity for she speaks of a love far greater than anything a man could ever imagine or experience. 
Katerina came in closer, her warm breath on his bare chest. can i ask you why it is that you are wearing nothing?
- I was with your mother, he said expecting her to gasp and recoil in embarrassment, but she did not.
- How was it? She asked.
- Distasteful.
- I would imagine it so.
Sigfrid looked at her and he could see that she knew of her mother death and in his heart he knew that he could not spare her, but he did not want to hurt her. She put his hands on her face and she let him kiss her. He kissed her gently on the lips, then on the cheek brushing his beard on her skin, he then kissed her on the neck and she gasped and a bolt of lightning shuddered through her body and onto his. His hands slowly traveled south brushing, kissing and loving every inch of her, the only thought in his head being “ be don juan, be don juan, be don juan”.

The morning sun arose and to sigfrids despair he needed to leave the house, perhaps even the country. katerinas head lay on his chest, her bare body a portrait of pure perfection. 
- Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter. he said quoting Keats once more with a sadness in his voice equal to that of Romeo when he Found his Love dead by the church, he pulled himself up and posed himself between the girl and the ceiling, he put his hand on her throat and then began to slowly add pressure. unlike her mother Katerina did not resist, she did not flail with her arm nor did she distort her face in ways that would compromise her usual serene expression. It was as though she knew she would reborn like a phoenix from the ashes, or that perhaps she knew he was incapable of causing her any harm, which Sigfrid was also beginning to suspect. Tears began to roll down his cheeks and on to hers. He could sense the muscles on her legs harden and her back arch, but he could not stop, tears kept dripping like raindrops on a funeral. 
- I am sorry Teddy, i can’t do it. 
Sigfrid let go, katerina took a deep breath and smiled. He moved away from the bed, slipped on candlewax and dropped to the floor. Hours past and the door was kicked in by a battalion of men dressed in the green and white of the florentine police force, they stormed the place and caught Sigfrid and dragged him out.

After many days of interrogation and court did the judge come to a decision deemed fair and just by the jury as well as the people of Florence. Sigfrid could hear the cheering and chanting of the massive crowd from the stage like podium which he found himself to be on, but he could not see them from inside the black bag that covered his face, nor could he embrace them for his hands were tied behind his back. A man pushed him towards the center, he strapped a rope that was hanging down to Siegfried’s neck and took of the black bag. The crowd gasped and then cheered even louder than before. The tears in Sigfrids eyes made the sight blurry and almost like a vision from a dream or a nightmare. The cardinal spoke in prayer and the crowd became silent. Sigfrid could hear his heart beat in his chest. The cardinal ended his prayer and as he did the floor on which Sigfrid stood opened, and there was nothing to hold him anymore. He dangled from the rope as people once more cheered for death, and there she stood, in the centre of everything, dressed in black almost as though this were a respectable funeral and not a hanging. Sigfrid could not believe his eyes. He thanked god that before his final demise he were granted a glimpse of the great beauty which he could not selfishly deny the world, and the same great beauty which had killed him.
 
- END -