The performance of Charles Gounod’s “Faust” was already underway when we arrived at the Metropolitan Opera House, but this was no problem to us. After all, we had not come there that evening to enjoy the presentation. We were there on an investigation.
“So it’s really Mephistopheles energy?” enquired Millie Drake. “Like the devil from the Faust legend?”
“Quite so,” I replied. “Our instruments at headquarters did indeed detect such an energy reading emanating from the opera house, hmmm?”
We had by now walked past the ticket-takers, who completely ignored our presence due to our Algolite mentalist abilities.
I was clad in my usual finery; including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, panama hat, my Magen David necklace, and of course one of my favourite opera capes.
My companion, known as Miss Millie Drake, is an exceedingly beautiful young lady; petite and perfect, with hair of a rich chestnut hue, enchanting violet eyes, and sun-kissed skin. The royal blue dress she wore only served to highlight her slender figure.
Kit-10, our robotic cat friend, had stayed behind at our downtown HQ to monitor the computer systems.
“So Daniel," said Millie, “you said this Mephistopheles, or Mephisto, isn’t real but exists anyway?”
“Quite so, my dear Mills,” I affirmed whilst twiddling my frills. “The Mephistopheles character from the medieval Faust story, popularised in the plays by Marlowe and Goethe, and this opera by Gounod, was indeed fictional. Nevertheless, his use over the centuries as a stock villain in literature, music, and art has built up a massive reserve of psychic energy that is referred to -- by those demonologists knowledgeable enough to comprehend its source -- as Mephisto Energy.”
We had by now approached an area in the back of the opera house’s front hall, and had opened a door leading to a steep staircase going downwards. I took the transonic mezuzah from my jacket pocket and used it to scan the area.
“By the Daemonian Spires!” I swore upon glancing at the resultant readings before returning the device to my pocket. “The transonic does indeed show an awesome conglomeration of Mephistopheles type power coming from the little-used cellars here. Someone has to have called it forth, and is using this night of the opera Faust being presented to enhance and focus it; but to what end, hmmm?”
“Daniel,” spoke Millie, “do you think that… Oh my gosh! Look!”
I whirled around to see what had so frightened my assistant and beheld an horror indeed. It was an huge mass of crimson energy floating up the stairway -- and heading directly to-wards us!
Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the horrendous mass of eldritch power vanished.
“Daniel, was that…?” stammered Millie Drake.
“Quite so, love,” I confirmed. “That was indeed the energy of Mephistopheles. However, what we beheld was only an echo, forsooth a warning of what is to come. If it has been evoked as it seems to have been, then our mission is a dangerous one indeed!”
And in sooth, the revelation of all that was actually transpiring was not to wait much longer, for after Millie and I had descended the stairway to that cobwebbed cellar of the opera house, we beheld a shadowy figuring standing near the far wall.
He appeared to be a man of middle years, clad in a black business suit with a long blood-red necktie, his visage showing an handsome distinction despite being marked with the results of lifetimes of extreme unholy evil. His hair was long and dark, and his face decorated with a thin moustache and goatee. Most of all, his pale eyes shone with an intense hypnotic glare.
Of course, I recognised him immediately; I recognised him as the renegade member of my own Algolite race who has become the most dangerous and wanted criminal in all of Time and Space -- as well as my own oldest and most bitter foe.
“Don Wingus!” I said. “I should have known. So you did escape from Lucifuge, and it is you who has been using the Metropolitan Opera House to evoke the power of Mephistopheles!”
“Rumanos, you meddling old clown,” countered Wingus, wisps of crimson energy beginning to play about him. “I cannot say I am surprised to see you here. You have never been able to resist the urge to pry into my affairs.”
“Wingus, your evocation of the Mephistopheles energy is dangerous beyond measure. It is a chaotic force that is ultimately non-controllable, and is known to have horrible repercussions to all who even dabble with it, hmmm? You cannot believe that you can wield such a…”
“Oh, do be quiet, Rumanos. I am utterly sick and tired of your attempts at pontifical platitudes. The Mephisto power is completely under my control, and I shall utilise it to further my most cherished goal -- total world domination!”
Whilst Don Wingus spoke, the crimson power began to increase about him, whirling like unto a diabolical cyclone of hellish potency accompanied by a sound like unto the mad playing of a thousand violins.
I had secretly taken the transonic mezuzah from my pocket as I spoke, and now began to raise it to-wards the villain. “Wingus, I cannot allow this. By the authority of the Kosmikos of Algol, I do now…
“You shall do nothing, Rumanos!” returned Wingus. “Behold the Mephistopheles power -- the power that is now mine!”
With this, before I could further react, an huge surge of the crimson energy suddenly shot out to-wards Millie Drake and me. I heard my companion scream as the power hit us with a force like unto a raging hurricane. The transonic was blown out of my hand, and I heard it clatter to the floor some metres distant.
Then, Millie and I were taken off our feet by the force of the demoniacal power. We felt ourselves propelled through the air to crash hard against the far wall of the cellar!
Is an understanding of the unspeakable satanic horror that we were then experiencing even possible, my dear friends and readers? Is it possible to even begin to realise the complete and utter demonic terror that my companion and I were undergoing, there in the rarely used cellar of the Metropolitan Opera House? There we were, the lovely Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos, extraterrestrial espionage agent and Knight of the Eternal Spires. There we were, facing the evil intergalactic villain known to eternal infamy as Magister Don Wingus. There we were, as the criminal unleashed the terrifying Mephistopheles energy that he had brought under his command -- in truth an awesome occult power that he intended to use to rule the entire world!
“Behold the power of Mephistopheles!” repeated the wicked Don Wingus amidst peals of his evil mocking laughter. “Behold the power that I shall use to establish myself as supreme ruler of planet Earth! Behold the power that is mine -- the very power of Mephistopheles!”
I fought hard to overcome the effect of the blast.
“Millie…,” I said, “are you all right?”
“I think I’m okay, Daniel,” she muttered. “It hurt a lot but I should be okay.”
As I struggled to stand up, I felt something on the floor. It was the transonic device, near to which we had landed. Rallying my strength, I grabbed it and aimed it to-wards Don Wingus and the Mephistopheles power, having activated a certain setting.
“You can do nothing to stop me, Rumanos!” continued Wingus in insane exultation. “I am Magister Don Wingus, and I… Wait! What is happening? What…?!”
The swirling crimson energy had now reversed its direction, and seemed to be falling directly into the form of Don Wingus. I saw him struggle and attempt to escape it, but his efforts were in vain. The energies completely surrounded and permeated his very being, whirling in an inescapable maelstrom of complete demonic power.
I stood up, then reached down to help Millie to her feet.
“Daniel, what is happening?” she questioned. “You used the transonic to turn the Mephistopheles power against him!”
“Quite so, my dear Millie,” I replied, returning the device to my pocket. “Quite so. I just utilised the ‘quick reversal’ switch on the transonic. It is usually used to control certain artificial intelligence computer functions, hmmm? It occurred to me that this is exactly what Mephistopheles is -- an ‘AI’ program created by the combined psychic force of everyone who has ever thrilled over the character in his fictional appearances. As I tried to warn Wingus, Mephisto is known as a trickster figure, always turning on those who summon him. I therefore gave the power just a little nudge to do just that!”
We still heard the voice of Don Wingus, but it seemed so much more distant. The whirling force of Mephistopheles had by now hidden him from view.
“No!” he bellowed in mixed fear and indignation. “No! You cannot do this to me! I am the one who should command you! I am…! No! No! Noooooooo!!”
Then, within a split second of time, the awful crimson energies of Mephistopheles vanished from the room -- taking the wicked Don Wingus with them.
“It appears he has been taken,” said I; “taken into the inter-dimensional world in which the Mephistopheles power is supreme. There he should receive his proper punishment.”
All was now quiet in the old cellar, and we could hear the music from the opera distantly filtering through.
“By the Triple Star!” I swore. “I say, Mills, listen to that. They are just doing the part where Mephistopheles drags Faust down to hell. Fitting, hmmm?”
“Wow, it really is!” wondered Millie.
“I say, love,” said I whilst we began our exit of the opera house, “we can stop by Little Italy for a good spaghetti dinner, hmmm? I know that Gounod was a Frenchman, but opera always has me craving Italian.” …
Little did we know that, a scant few blocks distant, a shadowy figure of a long-haired man in a black business suit approached a strangely out-of-place lamppost that resembled something from the Victorian gaslight era. A porthole type doorway opened in it and the man stepped inside. A few moments later, with the weird gasping moaning noise of a Time-Space machine engine -- accompanied by an echo of evil mocking laughter -- the odd lamppost faded away into the void.
***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN
