Disclaimer: All credit and rights go to Gaston Leroux, the author and rightful owner of these characters. I own nothing.
Preface
"Please." The man was on his knees, pressing his palms against the floor, begging. "I just need a bit more time. I swear, I can get it! I –"
"You've had time," Philippe replied coolly. "Some sixteen-odd years, if my memory is correct."
Erik watched from the background with his arms folded over his chest. He was not really interested in the proceedings, but he hadn't wanted to miss the execution of the man who had evaded them for so many years. When they dragged him into the interrogation room, Erik had not expected the weak, graying man who could only plead and snivel like a baby animal. To be entirely honest, he was disappointed.
"You ran from us, Daae. You hid in Sweden for well over a decade, and now you expect us to simply pardon you? Not so easily done."
"I can get the money!" the man shouted. "Please, believe me! I found a connection – he can help me –"
"Why is it that I doubt your sincerity, Daae?" Philippe asked calmly.
"Just a bit more time!"
"You've had more than enough time already."
Despite his indifference, Erik could see doubt creeping into Philippe's eyes. He knew there were ways for Daae to get the money – there were always ways, if one knew how to take advantage of the right opportunity. Most likely, the man hadn't been trying before, content in the idea of his own safety. Philippe would not want to give up the opportunity to obtain the $850,000 that Daae owed them.
"Very well, then," he said at long last. "You have forty days to pay it all back. Forty days only."
Daae very nearly collapsed to the ground in relief. "I will! I swear it –"
"During that time, you will stay within the immediate area."
"Yes –"
"Any attempt to flee will result in your immediate death."
"Of course –"
"If you have not paid in full by the end of those forty days, you will be punished without mercy."
"I can –"
Philippe slammed his palm down on the arm of his chair, sending a resounding crack skittering throughout the room. "Get out," he ordered.
Daae stared at him for a moment, and then scrambled to his feet and stumbled to the door. Erik could hear him clumsily descending the stairs that led to the outside world.
All was silent inside the strong room. Except for Erik, all of the men held their breath, unwilling to make a sound lest their leader's anger be turned on them. Erik, however, un folded a know from within his cloak, snapped it open, and began to tap it rhythmically against his knee, humming quietly.
From the corner came a small flicker f movement. Philippe's unwilling protégé, his own brother, locked eyes on the blade and shuddered.
At last, Philippe spoke. "Will he pay, do you think?" he asked. He continued to stare ahead, but the query was obviously meant for Erik.
Erik chuckled, and the young man in the corner shuddered again. "He will certainly try," he replied. "He will try very hard."
Philippe grimaced. "I don't want attempts. I want results. I want that debt repaid."
The knife disappeared back into Erik's cloak. "Well then," he murmured, shrugging. "A little incentive never hurt anyone."
I'm kind of excited for this new story. Instead of a slow build-up, as I've been doing with Spare a Thought, I've decided I'm going to jump right in and see how it goes. If you enjoyed it and would like to see more, leave a quick review.
~The Queen's Reprise~
