SatireV

Breaking

and entering

Harvard Endowment Suffers $2 Billion Loss, Submerges Campus in Darkness

candle
The small flame leapt and wavered, as if to warn Faust of what was to come. "TURN BACK!" it seemed to say. She could not.

BENEATH CAMBRIDGE, MA

Cupping the flame of a Yankee Candle with her hand, Faust stumbles down the pitch-black tunnel, the cold echo of her footsteps ringing in her ears. She is trembling, but whether due to temperature or terror, she can’t tell. She knew this would happen, why did she do nothing? She cannot escape her sin. No one can.

“YOU HAVE COME”

The voice. That voice. Though still hideous, it’s unmistakably…sickly. Weakened. Somehow, that makes it even more unsettling. As Faust enters the cavernous chamber, she is overwhelmed by the pungent fumes of globally distributed investments. Her candle is extinguished, as are her hopes. She collapses into her usual position on the floor.

“Y-y-your Fiscalness, it was a, a mistake, the people responsible have been disposed of—”

“LOOK AT WHAT YOUR CARELESSNESS HAS DONE TO ME”

Faust cautiously raises her eyes just enough to see the edge of the Endowment, crude oil dripping like the tears of a monster who has tasted pain for the first time. She keeps her body bowed, not daring to stare at the disfigured face, if one could even call it that.

“LOOK!”

She falters, then swallows hard, and slowly lifts her head to stare at the monetary transgressions of 380 years. She tastes her own sweat. 

"YOU SEE."

Drew involuntarily lets out a whimper. The hole so often creased into a malicious smile is lopsided, falling into itself, rasping out carbon dioxide. The eyes, those eyes....hollow as always, burning like coals, but somehow, dying, flickering. Crumpled, ripped bills are falling around Faust, like flakes of dead skin after a serious burn. Many are written in a dark language of economics long forgotten, except by a grim few. Mankiw is the only one she knows of, but surely there are others. There are always others.

"I GIVE YOU EVERYTHING. AND HOW DO YOU REPAY ME?"

"We...my..."

"YOU CARVE OUT 2 BILLION DOLLARS OF MY FLESH"

"You—you have n-no flesh, y-you're made of th-theoretical returns—"

"DO NOT CORRECT ME IT WAS A METAPHOR"

The Endowment’s rage is palpable. Faust steels herself, forcing down the dread bubbling up inside of her. For HUDS, she tells herself. "We've already f-found you an investor who c-c-can heal you, your Hedgedness."

“YES. YET YOU MUST SUFFER AS I HAVE SUFFERED. YOU SHALL LIVE IN DARKNESS UNTIL I AM MOLLIFIED."

Faust tries to protest when suddenly the ground begins to shake violently as she feels a deep rumbling beneath her feet. Dust and rock rain from the cavern ceiling. Staggering back, she feels something drain from the world. As if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced because they had no WiFi.

“Have m-m-mercy!” begs Faust over the din. The river houses lose power.

“I SHALL SPARE THE FINAL CLUBS. THEY ALONE HAVE BEEN KIND TO ME.”

“Of course, of course, they shall a-always remain with p-p-power here, as you have decreed.” Khurana won’t be pleased, she thought, but that quixotic fool knows nothing of deal we’ve made. It’s better that way. Let him believe in ethical investment.

"NOW GO,” coughs the Endowment. “OR I MAY CHANGE MY MIND.”

Faust trips as she scurries out of the chamber, the Endowment gasping for breath behind her, the hot air seeming to push her forward, away, into the darkness. Pushing Harvard into Darkness.

A single tear rolls down her cheek. "Faust," she whispers to herself, "what an appropriate name."

© 2016
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