Aloha. Before we begin, I would like to say something to all you lovely Phans! I am going to start posting a story on Wattpad, most likely tomorrow, and I would love it if the members of Wattpad would check it out. I do not yet have an official name, but I can be found at KaylynPalmeter. This Phan-Phic is unlike any I've ever written, or read for that matter. So, here is my unofficial summary: You are a patient at Alton Mental Hospital in Illinois. You are trapped in this Hell for a crime which is too gruesome to tell and your sentence: the rest of your life. You are now insane and the worst part is, about to be euthanized.
This chapter gets a bit intense. Warning: If you do not like rape, wait for the next chapter.
Enjoy! Well, not really.
Chapter Seven
I was woken once again by Meg's incessant yammering. "Get up!" She yelled, shaking me with all her might.
"Fine!" I gave in, sitting up.
"You will have to learn to get up early if you want to work here. Now, let's get you into your clothes before you strangle yourself with a cravat."
"Hey, do not give me any ideas." I stood and stretched and Meg threw my clothes at me. She helped me dress and did up my hair in a braid.
"I am so jealous of your beauty." I heard her mutter. "But, then again, you stick out in the crowd." I found it best not to respond to her comments. "All done! Ready to meet the company?" She then helped me with my gloves and I threw my boots on over my trousers. Meg grabbed my hands and began leading me off to the stage.
We found a gathering of differing aged men and Madame who watched me with an anxious gaze. One of the men stepped forward with an air of stern authority. I held out a gloved hand for him and he pressed his lips to my knuckles. "Mademoiselle Destler, I am Richard Firmin and this is Gilles Andre. We are the managers of the Opera."
"It is a pleasure, Monsieur," I said as a short mousy man waved to me.
"I am Patel, the chief of the flies." A plump man stepped forward and I could practically taste smoke and alcohol. I tried my best not to gag. He then went on to introduce the rest of the stagehands, but, of course, I paid no attention to them. Instead, I looked out to the auditorium. I could only begin to imagine what the seats looked like full! And to think, one slip of a stagehand and the show is ruined! I was then lead through the flies and catwalks, catching glimpses of bright topaz in the shadows. I smiled when I saw a glimpse of white. We went back down the to the stage and continued to go through procedures. I looked over at Meg who was trying to suppress a yawn of boredom. Soon, I was released to go to the Opera's café. The rest of the day passed with rehearsals for the next Opera, Carmen. I was shown the basic mechanics of the set pieces and even got a few whispers in the ear from my Uncle with basic tips and tricks. I even got a glimpse of his cape and tried to nab it when I was left alone.
Soon, the performance for the night came. I stood in the rafters with a drunk Patel at my side. A very drunk Patel, might I add. I peered down and waited for our cue to change scenes. I caught the cue and moved to the ropes. A grimy hand tugged my left forearm. I spun on my heel to see Patel smirking, a dark glint in his eyes. "Don't worry, sweetie, the men'll take care a it." He slurred, spitting a bit in my face. I calmed my breath and went to pull my arm away. Patel pinned me down beneath his piggy body as the ropes and gears went off to change the scene. "A pretty one like you shouldn't be doin' a man's job, should ya?" I made to squirm out from beneath him but he pressed against me harder. "Shall we take ya down, slut?" he said as he began to pull at my waistcoat and trousers. I fought harder against him as he tugged the waist down and took a hand to my hair. "Some unique hair ya got, eyes too?" He froze and a felt a pull on my left leg. "Wa's this, I feel?" I tried to push him off but he grabbed the gloves off my hands. His eyes widened when he saw my left hand. "Lil' secret, I see?" He began to fiddle with my wrist and one of the bolts came loose, sending it dangling by only its wires. I froze wondering how I would fix it. He smiled at this and took it as his cue to remove my top half of clothes. I slapped and kicked and bit but he was much too heavy and wide. I fought even harder when I felt Patel's hands prodding at my bare chest. I looked down to find his hands unscrewing my chest piece. I fought harder and began to cry until I noticed a shadow looming behind Patel, a noose the only thing aglow in the candlelight.
The rope found it's way around Patel's neck and lifted him up and around to face his attacker. He fell limp a bit later and those gleaming eyes turned on me. I curled up in a ball and began to whimper and shake harder than ever before. I heard a soft humming in my ear as I felt warm, strong arms lift me up and cradle me gently. I curled up against Erik and he began to sing softly. "Sleep my little child, calm down my little child. Dream about the stars in the sky. Dancing with the snowflakes, icy crystal cornflakes, to a winter lullaby. Drifting on an ice flow, we bears travel slow through the seas where waters run deep. High above the stars glow, glitter in the white snow. Come the night you fall asleep." He continued to sing but before I could process the words I was drifting into unconsciousness.
When I woke, the faint sounds of the piano drifted to my ears. They played an intricate melody, or what I would call intricate. I tossed a bit and the piano stopped. I felt a cloth pressed into my right hand and I began to recall what all had transpired. As soon as I opened my eyes I curled up and began to sob tearlessly. I felt hesitant hands in my hair and stroking my back before I realized someone was speaking and trying to comfort me. "You are safe now, Tantomile. No one can hurt you anymore." I looked up to Erik's face. Deep in his eyes, I saw pity and sadness. I felt his cool hands on my cheek, rubbing light circles comfortingly. I moved and rested my head on his shoulder, nearly causing him to topple. He embraced me awkwardly from the floor and I felt a small giggle bubble at his nerves. He began muttering in my ear again and a sudden thought occurred to me.
"Erik," I whispered softly. "Is he... is he dead?"
"No, dear, he is not. I have asked for his removal but the managers refused. I know what you feel like, trust me. I was raped by my Gypsy cage master when I was about thirteen." I pulled back a bit to see even more sadness in his eyes. "I killed him in self-defense but was nearly hunted down either way." He turned away and stared at the ground. "What choice did I have?" He sobbed, then looked up at me, a glistening in his eyes. Tears began to stream down his masked and unmasked cheek. I held out the cloth in my hand to him and he took it to wipe his tears. I crawled down on the floor next to him and that was when I noticed that my chest piece and hand were still unbolted. I wore a lacy nightshirt that fell down past my knees that looked as if it belonged to Meg. I unfastened the top buttons and fixed my chest piece before accessing myself for any more damage. Erik watched from beside me as I poked and prodded my metal parts. A few bolts were missing from my knee, elbow, ankle, and wrist joints and a metal rod that substituted for the ulna was broken. Seeming to read my mind, Erik produced a handful of cobalt blue bolts and nuts. I took them from him and set them down next to me.
"Please help me with this," I said, looking up at him.
"What do I need to do?" He said. I saw a gleam of happiness in his eyes.
"I will help you. Take my metal hand and fit it against my wrist joint." He did so and I handed him a nut, showing him where to put it through and how to secure it with a bolt. We did the same with all the other missing pieces. I could tell he enjoyed the puzzle. When we finished with that, he looked to the broken rod in my arm. "It happens a lot. Do you have any metal rods I could use as a replacement?" Erik nodded and scurried off. He returned with a chrome looking rod and I showed him how to take out the broken one and put in the new one. Surprisingly, the new one fit better than the old one.
