Chapter Three

Old Scars

-oOo-

Chloe took another swig of her glass of wine and pushed the rest of her cold and gloopy lasagne to the side as she skimmed more pages of the report Fache had given her.

She was astounded by what she was reading and kicked herself for not paying closer attention to the news reports, but what was most interesting was Silas involvement in the whole thing. His history was sketchy, but from what the report told her, he had escaped from prison to arrive half dead on Aringarosa's doorstep. There he turned to his faith and Opus Dei became a family to him. It now became so clear why Silas killed those people. He was doing it for family, just like anyone would kill to protect the ones that nurture and care for us.

As the evening wore on she read further to the medical report. It appeared that along with the bullet wounds the monk had suffered, he also had a number of self-inflicted lacerations on his back and an instrument called a cilice wrapped tightly around his upper thigh. Chloe was forced to resort to her dictionary to find out exactly what a cilice was, and was horrified to find that it's soul purpose was to draw pain to the wearer to sympathise with the torture Jesus suffered. Now she understood what Fache had said about his method of repenting.

After more researching on the internet, she found that this mortification was a method some Opus Dei followers used to feel closer to God, and in some cases, fight the temptations of the flesh and remain celibate to better serve their Lord.

It was almost one in the morning before Chloe had fully consumed all she was going to on Silas, Opus Dei and the case of the Priory of Sion, but now she was so tired and her head swimming with the effects of the wine in her system, that she felt her eyelids give way to gravity.

So she switched off her light on her messy desk and trudged through the small living area to the bathroom to brush her teeth and settled into the comfy sheets and into a drugged sleep.

-oOo-

Everything was dull and dark as she walked swiftly through the narrow cobbled street behind the row of shops. She felt stupid for deciding not to bring her car, but the afternoon had been so bright and pleasant she thought it would still be light when she left her godfathers barbeque party.

It wasn't as if she hadn't been offered a lift. She had two offers, but she had declined as she got rather car sick when other people drove her, even if her home was only a fifteen minute walk away.

She hadn't even said goodbye to Jerome, he was busy with some old friends he hadn't seen in a while and she was loathed to interrupt, so she got one of her colleagues to pass the message onto him, grabbed her coat and left.

Now she wished she had taken someone up on their offer. The darkness seemed to seep like oil into every crevice of her surroundings. She shivered as a cold wind enveloped her and breezed down the back of her neck.

Strangely she felt the uncomfortable and worrying sensation that someone was with her. She strained her hearing and thought she could hear someone's ragged breathe, but as she turned her head, it instantly silenced. But that didn't stop her from fastening her jacket closer around her and quickening her pace.

Up ahead she had to walk under a small bridge, the gap below was barely seven feet high and swallowed the ground into a void, which she could not see into. She bit her lip nervously.

Don't be stupid, she thought, it's only a bridge.

Quickening her steps, she entered the darkness and heard her footsteps echoing off the brick walls. Her breathing quickened as her heart raced and as she reached halfway she could swear her breathing was getting heavier and louder.

Before she had a chance to turn around, someone grabbed her from behind, yanking her back by the nape of her jacket. Before she could yell or scream a gloved hand clamped over her mouth as she was dragged back into the darkness.

Desperatly she tried to hit her asaliant, but no amount of kicking or twisting could get her into a position to do enough damage. She was shoved painfully up against the wall, the hand still over her mouth. She could hear the excited breathing in front of her.

"Scream and you will die" a man hissed. His voice was deep, and she could only assume by the firm grip he had on him, that he was a big and strong man.

Sobbing she tried vainly to escape, but the man used his legs to keep her against the wall as he hurridly felt around his own body.

A flash of light from as passing car illuminated her surroundings in one millisecond, but it was enough for her to see the profile of her attacker. He was a good foot taller then her, broad shoulders under a long, black trench coat. His hair was cut short and was black. His brow was set in an angry glare as he shoved his spare hand in the inside of his pocket. Then it went dark once more.

Freeing one of her hands from his legs, she pushed out and connected a closed fist against his cheek. The man groaned but did not pull back, instead a hand came rushing towards her and knocked her sideways. As he still had her pinned to the wall, only her top half flew to the side, twisting her back painfully. But in that second his hand was removed from her mouth.

"I'm a police officer! Get off me!" she screamed into his face, but she was treated to another slap, which momentarily dazed her.

Something cold and sticky was held over her mouth. She realised he had gagged her with some form of duct tape and was now frantically tearing at her coat.

Her blood ran cold as his hands felt around her chest, pulling at the new cardigan she had just brought that day for the barbeque.

Oh God! She thought, he's not looking for my purse

She realised what the man intended to do and tried screaming through the gag, kicking, twisting and trying to push herself off the wall but he held her fast and leaned in, running his tongue up her face. Chloe grimaced in disgust, trying to move her face away, but he used his hands to pin it in place.

"I'm going to have you, bitch!" he growled in her ear and started aggressively pulling away her coat and her cardigan. He began to grope her again, feeling about in the darkness. Chloe almost vomited, but she kept fighting, kept fidgeting despite being completly exhausted already.

She managed to get another hand free and slammed her fist into his shoulder, but he grabbed it and twisted her around so her front was now pressed against the cold brick wall. Her chest was only covered by her bra and she felt his entire body weight against her back. She heard more duct tape being ripped and her arms were yanked together behind her by the wrists. The tape was twisted and wrapped quickly round them tightly so she couldn't escape.

Again, her back was slammed again the wall, she saw the opportunity to use her legs, she kicked out and hit him in the groin. Chloe almost cried in relief as he doubled over, giving her the chance to run for the light. But as she got a few steps, something grabbed her ankle, sending her crashing to the hard concrete ground. Her head connected hard with the floor, sending her vision spiralling until it focused in on the looming shadow strandling her.

Twisted onto her back so she lay painfully on her bound wrists, she was struck again and something sharp was pressed into the flesh just below her left breast. The cold of the knife could not be mistaken. Chloe's eyes widened in fear.

"If I were you" the man hissed, "I wouldn't do that again!"

She felt her belt buckle being tugged, tears of terror were filling her eyes.

Jerome! Anyone! Help me! She screamed in her head, but no one would hear her. She couldn't believe this was happening to her, a policewoman, a good person. This man ontop of her was defiling her, and she could do nothing to stop it. The only thing that kept her sane was concentrating on the pain of the blade in her chest. As the man on top of her grunted and groaned, pushing painful against Chloe, the knife had entered her as well.

Chloe only opened her eyes once during the ordeal, a new objective. He may have her now, but she wasn't going to let him get away with it. She wanted to remember every details of his face, every item of clothing he was wearing, his smell anything that she could use later to catch this bastard. And then she saw it, hanging from his neck, glistening in one flicker of a second; a cruxifix hanging from a piece of string on his neck.

-oOo-

Chloe awoke screaming for help. She tried to escape the invisible weight that was pushing down on top of her and the legs that were tangled around her own, making it impossible for her to move.

But as the dim light of the sunrise lit through her window, she saw that she was not lying in a pool of her own blood, she was not under a lonely bridge half naked. She was in her bed, crying and sweating profusely with the nightmare she suffered almost every night for six months.

Chloe chocked back a sob and put her hand to her forehead in exasperation.

When is it going to stop? She asked the room. And of course she got no reply, so she resorted to the only source of relief she had found.

Untwisting herself from her sheets, she marched to her bathroom and soaked her sweaty face in cold water. Gingerly she opened the bathroom cabinet and collected with a shaky hand, the sharp razor blade she kept hidden behind a bottle of perfume.

Chloe held her right wrist over the sink and let her eyes roam over the multiple scars imprinted deeply into her flesh. Some were old, the skin bumped and white, but others were only a few days old, still red and raw.

Chloe sobbed again as she took the blade to her wrist and cut into the flesh, she didn't relent until the blood had pooled around the wound and dripped steadily into the basin. Again and again she did this until all her fears were swallowed and drained away with her blood and the throbbing pain it left behind.

Putting away the blade, she washed away the evidence from the basin and careful dabbed the wounds with a tissue.

Chloe knew she would be in serious trouble with the DCPJ if they found out she was self-harming. Especially as she was in the Phsycology department. They would suspend her or worse, fire her altogether, but for some morbid reason, this method of self-harm, calmed her and gave her new wounds to help disguise the old.

Gingerly Chloe lifted her top and saw the hideous scar the rapiest had left her, ripping right from the middle of her chest to the flesh just below her left breast. Thhis was a constant reminder of what she had suffered, and what any woman should not have to suffer.

Chloe had never fully been aware of what happened to her after the incident. She awoke in hospital, Jerome asleep in a chair at her side, holding her hand. She had screamed when she realised she had not just been suffering a nightmare, a nurse rushed to her side as Jerome tried to calm her. Her whole body ached, her wrists were red from the painful tape, her chest was wrapped with gauze and she could not bear to look any lower.

She looked helplessly over to her godfather, whose first words were that they would catch him. She had nodded, knowing she would find the bastard and make him pay. But after she had been released from hospital she had become almost zombie-like, floating about work with the only soul intention of catching the rapist. But no matter how hard she looked, or how many posters she had put up around the city. No one came forward and all leads came to a dead end. She had tried all religious cults, clubs and groups but it seemed as if the man had just disappeared.

Fache had obviously seen her distracted, or Jerome had mentioned her unstableness and forced her to take a month off work to sort her life together. With even less to keep her occupied, she had resorted to finding other means to erase the pain and disgust she felt at being raped by that man. She recalled back to the knife he held to her. The pain was overwhelming, but it gave her something to focus on other then her torment.

Chloe had been very discreet; she now only wore long sleeved shirts and tops. No one had noticed or paid heed, most people felt they needed to keep a distance from her anyway because she was broken and damaged from her ordeal. But here she was, still surviving, but she had been changed. She was now unable to form any kind of relationship with any potential boyfriend. She mistrusted and often despised the opposite sex because of their potential to cause so much pain, minus of course those she knew before her ordeal. Jerome, Fache and several other men she trusted. But now she looked upon almost every male as a potential threat, and it made her sick to think that way.

Chloe undressed and quickly showered before wrapping her wrist in gauze and suiting up for another day at work. Quickly she gathered all her notes and things and hailed a cab to take her to the office.

The usual morning hubbub was already underway. Police cars lined the street, officers walked in and out of the revolving door, men and women in snappy suits did likewise and the whole building seemed to buzz with life. Nothing to the shadow of a place it was the previous evening when most where at home.

Joining the throng into the building, she returned to her usual desk on the fifth floor. She waved a friendly hello to Freya, who sat at the table nearest to her and threw down all the paper work on her desk and swung her coat around her seat.

Quietly she began to skim through her research papers, trying to get her head back into the game, thinking only of Silas and of Opus Dei, but as she re-read the piece about his cilice, she became less sceptical and more sympathetic, because after all, she inflicted pain on herself, but she did it to forget whereas Silas did it to remember.

-oOo-

Chloe's request to interview the monk was replied to at mid-day. In that time, Chloe had finished all her other obligations and gathered her notes to join Fache outside the same interrogation room.

"Have you considered his request?" she asked straight away. Fache looked at her hard.

"I'm sure you read the report about the self-inflicted wounds on his body?" he asked. Chloe nodded, consiously pulling her sleeve further down her bandaged wrist.

"I have no problem with that sick bastard sticking barbs into his body, but I do mind having to clear up the mess" he growled. Chloe almost rolled her eyes, "I'm being watched by a lot of powerful people at the moment Miss Blanc. If it gets out that I'm allowing a suspect in my care to purposely harm himself, I could lose more then my job" he said quietly.

Chloe nodded, instantly understanding what he meant. Silas' existance was known only to those who needed to know in the DCPJ. And those above Fache knew must know his conection to Opus Dei. Silas was an Opus Dei monk that had commited murder. If something went wrong and Silas ended up dead or near death, they would think Fache was trying to take revenge on Silas for besmerching the name of Opus Dei. It was a very, very sensitive situation. But she didn't have any choice, Silas was not a man to be bargained with, the only way she got him to talk was by riling him, and if she continued to do that, she would only end up convincing him not to talk.

"If it's done descreetly, Captaine Fache, it could be possible" she replied. Fache nodded to show he was listening, "I could stay with him while he repents and clear the mess up afterwards" she added.

Fache seemed to be entertaining the idea. Of course it was the last thing Chloe wanted to spend her time doing. But she had no choice if she was going to solve this case, and to honest with herself, she would onyl be stewing at home, praying not to have another terrible nightmare.

"You've got a deal, Blanc. It'll have to be in the cell block, away from the other officers. I don't want this getting back to anyone. But do it tonight, after hours, I'll make sure you're not disturbed"

Chloe nodded with relief and watched as he unlocked the door beside her.

"I'll give you ten minutes," He hissed through the small gap in the door before closing it completely.

Chloe saw Silas sitting in the same position as last time, almost as if he had been there all night. She stifled a yawn as she sat before him once more and eyed him curiously.

He still had a lot of anger in his eyes, which he administered to Chloe quite contently.

"Did you confirm with you Captain about my request?" he asked.

Chloe sat down once more, "Yes, he has agreed to it, but I will be there to monitor you. That is his only objection" she replied. Silas growled.

"I pray and repent in solitude, I allow no one to witness" he said, his palms open on the desk top.

Chloe almost scoft, "I assure you, Silas, I don't particularily want to witness you torture yourself, but if you want to repent at all this is how it will be done. Take it or leave it" she said.

She knew she was being brash by talking to him so forcefully and giving him an altermatum. But she had discovered this man responded to force, and she was playing his game.

Silas pursed his lips but finally nodded, "I agree to your terms, Miss Blanc"

Chloe almost signed in relief, but didn't want to show it in front of Silas. It seemed that she wasn't as rubbish at this as she thought she would.

"I was hoping you had been thinking about what I said to you last night" Chloe began, "About Aringarosa"

Silas was still and calm, his face unreadable which fustrated Chloe some. She had never met anyone who could be so hot-tempered one moment, then as cool as ice the next. She was amazed by him, even though she would never admit that allowed.

But he leaned across the table, capturing Chloe's eyes in his own, those amazingly pink eyes.

"Miss Blanc, the only way I could believe the Bishop betrayed me, is if he said it so to me himself" he said with almost a smug smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth.

Chloe starred back, refusing to be looked down. She was surprised at how comfortable she felt around him. She didn't fear his glance as much as other mens as they looked at her, but she presumed that was because he was a celebate monk, hardly likely to rape anyone. Somehow he just didn't seem to be as much of a threat.

"Do you think after you shot him he possibly saw you for the murderer you are and decided you were a lost cause" she said cooly.

The shadow of the smirk that had been on his face was cleaned right off, "Never. It was an accident, the Bishop would know that" he bit angrily.

Chloe shrugged, "Maybe that's why he refuses to visit, did you think of that? You shot the one man who took you in and now he's left you in the hands of the law. You have no loyalty to the Council, Silas. They want you to take the blame for the murders so they can slip back into the shadows. Aringarosa is one of them and you gave him a reason to abandon you when you nearly killed him"

Silas suddenly jumped to his feet in a rage, "Never! he would never do that! He is a man of God and God encourages forgiveness, don't speak such lies to me!" he shouted.

Chloe was taken back. She had gone too far this time. Now she realised he wouldn't give her anymore information today, he hated her too much right now.

Silently she got to her feet, then she turned to look into his burning red eyes, "I will return this evening so you can pray, Fache has promised you privacy" she said and calmly strolled from the room.

Again Fache was waiting outside for her, "Well that went well?"

"It worked didn't it, Captaine?"

"If you mean pissing him off, then oui, it did work" he replied with a smirk.

Chloe sighed, "I mean he's willing to cooperate. Why else would he offer information in exchange for repenting?"

"Because he enjoys torturing himself?" Fache offered

"I'm surprised you didn't just try to beat the answers out of him, Captaine Fache," she asked as the man reached for the door handle.

"And you think I didn't? Have to seen the wounds on his back and thighs. That man needs pain, we'd only be doing him a favour" he smirked and disappeared into the room.

Chloe put together all her things and headed back to her desk to do more research and try and think of some way to get him to talk.

-oOo-

Phoenix rising06 - Thanks, it's just something I've been thinking about for a while since seeing the movie. Coz you don't actually see Silas die, only mortally wounded. Of course the book does say he dies, but for the sake of my fan fic I'm just looking over that small detail!

RaeAngel - Brief but pleasant. Thanks!

A/N: I'm having a few problems trying to choose which version of Aringarosa to use. The one in the book was a good man, just being used like Silas was, but in the movie he was far greedier and sinister in his plot to kill Sophie. Any idea which one I should use? Let me know!