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The Tragical Life of Sebastian G. Faust

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Sebastian enters his car, placing his briefcase in the passenger seat. He takes a seat and stops to take a breath.

Opening his eyes, he looks at his reflection in the rear-view mirror.

His reflection crooked, he goes to fix the mirror. Tilting it, only his eyes are visible.

They stare at him, as if someone else was on the other side.

He looks down at the briefcase next to him. He knows what lies within. He grips the steering wheel, anxious.

He looks up, considering starting the car and driving to meet Marco. His grip tightens.

Desperately, he lets go and turns towards the briefcase. Tearing into it like a rabid animal, he finds the plain envelope.

He can only stare at it in his hands. Why is such an average letter driving him mad?


To one Sebastian G. Faust,

From Dr. O'Pheles




He turns the envelope around and pushing his thumb under the thin paper, pops it open.

Inside lies a single delicate letter. The paper is crisp and neatly folded. Unfolding it, Sebastian is met with clean handwriting instead of a boldly typed official notice.

With furrowed brows, he reads the note that gave him such anxiety.



To one Sebastian G. Faust, I hope this letter reaches you in due time. I have sent two of my most trusted officials to relay this letter to you:


Sebastian pauses, taking closer inspection.



We need you for our most pressing project, one that can decide the fate of this whole Cold War, one beyond Eisenhower's and Kennedy's. Sebastian, I need you to help me with Project MKULTRA.


He looks back up, into the rearview mirror. The eyes from another world stare back at him, egging him on.