What's this? Another new chapter this week? I have given you precious readers three chapters in a row? You bet I did! I hope everyone enjoys it! Oh! and just another word and thought! Is there anything you would like to what happens and want to see? I want this to be a story where my readers can interact and tell me what they want
"Father said, 'When I'm in heaven, child
I will send the Angel of Music to you."
-The Phantom of The Opera
Previously...
"WAIT!" Marlene cried out. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"
But Tris didn't look back, she just ran as fast as she could, through the door and out into the Paris night.
They may pursue her, she was unsure, so she didn't look back. Promise or no promise, she couldn't stay there another instant. She was free! But she would not relax, she continued running, down long dark allies and past old crumbling buildings. There was no moon, no stars; Tris could smell rain in the air. Yet she continued running, happy for the dim lit lamps of the Paris streets, happy for the air and wind that was hitting her face. She had no idea where she was, or where exactly she was heading. Paris was still very new to her, and at night, she couldn't tell what street was what, but she ran till her sides throbbed and she was gasping for air. She found herself lost in one of the many back allies of the city, one with a dead end and no indication of where she was.
She knew she should turn around, turn and try to find a way home…or to the police at the very least to try and find her father, but the second she took a step, she cried out as pain shot through her leg. She remembered how she had cut her leg back in the tunnel, and gasped as she saw the trail of blood she had left behind her. She bent down and ripped off a scrap of fabric from her already torn dress and proceeded to dab at the wound and bind it. She winced with pain as tied the knot of her homemade bandage, but all thoughts of pain disappeared when a voice spoke over her.
"Well, well, well…hello pretty thing."
Tris bolted upright at the voice, seeing three large burly looking men standing before her, all smelling of alcohol, cigarettes, and vomit. It was enough to make Tris gag.
"Been a long time since I've had a woman," one of the men remarked. He had a large gut that hung over his trousers and his clothes reeked of sweat and urine. It was understandable why a woman hadn't gone near him for quite some time.
"Come with us pretty," another man belched, reaching out for her. Tris stepped back, lifting her eyes skyward and wondering why all these horrible things were occurring in one night. The man burped again and took a few more steps towards her. "Come on, we can go somewhere quiet…we'll pay you well."
The other two snickered at the comment, while Tris stared wide eyed at them. They thought her a prostitute? She knew she was dirty and her dress was torn, but she did not think she looked like a lady of the night from that alone!
"Get away from me," Tris hissed. Unfortunately, they were blocking the only way out of the ally and when the three of them stood side by side, it was like standing in front of a brick wall. She was trapped and she knew it…she just couldn't show that she knew it. One of the men frowned at her statement.
"The little slut think she's too good for us? Our money is just as good as any other man's," he grumbled. "Come on…been a long night, and we want some company."
"No," Tris stated again, her jaw set, her eyes steady, while her mind was screaming for help. She could pretend to be what they thought she was, pretend so that they would let her pass, thinking she was leading them back to her bordello, and then make a run for it. She was sure she could outrun three drunken stumbling louts, but her leg wouldn't carry her far, the very idea of running caused it to throb with pain. Also, from the look of these men, Tris had a feeling they could care less of where everything took place. They probably expected her to service them right there in that ally, which would explain the mud on their clothes and the stench of urine that perfumed them. While they may not be able to run fast, she knew they could still be dangerous and she had to play things very carefully.
"No?" one of them growled. "Why not? You saying that Edgar ain't good enough for you?"
Edgar…why did that name sound so familiar? Suddenly, the man lunged for her and Tris easily twirled out of his reach, and then it all dawned on her. This was the same man that had lunged at her back stage at the Opera House on that first day! And apparently Edgar hadn't forgotten the incident either, for his eyes went wide with realization after he recovered himself from his unsuccessful attempt of grabbing the girl.
"You…" he whispered, looking at Tris, the realization dawning more and more. There was a wild look in his eyes and Tris swallowed a growing lump in her throat. No amount of twirling would help her for long.
"You…you cost me my job," he accused. Tris felt herself growing angry adn stood with her chin up.
"You cost yourself your own job, all I did was step out of the way! And now I won't repeat myself again: get the hell out of my way!" She cried out as forcefully shoved him with all of her strength to escape when all of a sudden she felt herself be suddenly dragged back in when a different man lunged at her and caught her around the middle, holding her wriggling and struggling body against his over-grown beer gut.
"I got her Edgar! I have her! And…" he grunted as she continued struggling against him. "She's quite a hellcat, this one!" he laughed.
"Get your fucking hands off of me before I cut them off myself!" she screamed. "Let me go!"
"And has quite the mouth- and I know exactly what to do with it. Cover her mouth with something!" Edgar hissed to the man holding her. "We don't want all of Paris coming!"
Tris continued screaming even after the man who had caught her placed a large disgusting hand over her mouth. She gagged as she could smell and taste the filth from his body.
"You know this girl? "She's not a prostitute?" the third man of the group asked Edgar. Edgar shrugged his shoulders.
"All women are whores, that's my motto in life. Whores to be used whenever you need one," he chuckled. Tris' eyes narrowed with hate at the man's words. She kept wriggling and squirming against her captor who was now showing signs of struggle with holding onto her.
"God almighty, she's a hellcat!" the man who was holding her grunted. "Careful Edgar, she may lash out."
Edgar spit on the ground, a sign that he had no worries whatsoever.
"Let's open this pretty package!" the other man cried out, reaching for Tris' dress. Tris struggled even harder when she realized the man's intentions. Then, she had an idea form in her head as she brought bother of legs near her chest and kicked one of Edgar's overweight friends in his protruded gut like a jackrabbit. The man stumbled backwards before landing Edgar and they landed on the hard streets. The man holding Tris was taken aback then howled in pain when Tris elbowed him, forcing him to release her. Taking as her chance to escape, Tris began to make a run for it when Edgar's hand shot out and grabbed her ankle, causing her to fall on top of her chest and her dress rising up to reveal her thighs.
"You stupid little cunt!" Edgar sneered as her forcefully yanked her up by her hair. Tris let out a sharp gasp of pain and found herself shoved back into hands of one of her attackers.
"Ah!" cried out the hotbelly one holding her as she tried to fight to get free.
"Stop it!" he ordered, although she continued to struggle. "It felt nice having her delicious rump wriggle against me, but now it's hard to hold onto her!"
"Shut up," Edgar growled, and punched Tris squarely on the face, reeling her head back. She began to feel dizzy from the punch as she tried to blink away the black spots clouding her vision. She could see Edgar push the other man out of the way. "I'll unwrap this flower…and I get her first."
"No fair!" protested his third companion. "The last time we had a woman, you had her first! She was too tired when she got to me!" Edgar simply grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and glared at him. The man quickly relented.
"Fine, you can have her first," he whimpered cowardly.
Tris's eyes went wide when she saw the evil smirk on the former stagehand as he reached out and much to her horror, grabbed both sides of her dress and ripped it apart, leaving her only in her corset and undergarments. She screamed in protest beneath the hand that covered her mouth, not believing this was actually happening. Oh how much she hated to admit it, but she was beginning to think that was better off with the Phantom.
"Mmmm…pretty," Edgar grinned, eyeing her breasts from behind the pale white fabric that covered them. His large grubby hand reached out to touch her, and Tris summoned up all her strength again, before swinging her leg out and kicking him hard in the groin, and then when he dropped to his knees, in the chin. The man holding her cried out Edgar's name, and at that point, Tris bit down on the man's hand, causing him to yowl in pain. His blood dripped from her mouth, and she wriggled herself loose from his grip. Before the other man could advance upon her, Tris pushed the now howling man towards the other, and the two ran into each other, causing them both to fall down. Without another look, she took off, wincing at the pain in her leg, but fighting through it, she just had to get out of the ally, she just-
"AAAAAH!" she screamed as she felt a hand enclose her ankle and pull her down to the muddy ground. Edgar, who was still gripping his balls in one hand, had reached out and grabbed her ankle, twisting it in just a way that would cause her to fall, and sprain herself. She would not be running now.
"You little bitch! Stay the fuck where you are!" he spat, his body flopping on top of hers. "I'll teach you! I'll show you!"
Tris screamed and cried, her face now wet with tears as she could feel his dirty hands reaching into her undergarments, seeking out her legs which she kept tightly shut.
"You'll like this, I promise you that," he grinned wickedly, his disgusting mouth coming down on hers. Tris was able to move her head away just in time, and she screamed as she felt his tongue and lips on her skin. She wriggled, squirmed, kicked, bit, scratched, whatever she could do to free herself.
"Hold her down, damn it!" Edgar yelled to one of his friends.
"And shut up!" he shouted, shaking Tris roughly, before raising his arm to backhand her. Tris prepared herself to feel the stinging fire spread across her cheek, but it never came.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" Her eyes flew open at the sound of one of Edgar's friends whimpering in fear, and standing just over her, she saw the Phantom, gripping Edgar's fist in his large leather clad hand.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," he growled dangerously.
Edgar stared up at the dark being before him, his eyes wide in both horror and shock. He told the Phantom's tales to frighten the ballet girls, but…he never truly believed the ghost stories. Yet now, as he gazed up at the man clad in black, with a cape billowing around his body, and his face covered in the shadows, save for the outline of a black mask, he knew…he knew this was the infamous Phantom of the Opera. The Angel of Death himself.
The man who had his hand bitten rose and with a shout charged at the Phantom, but he easily side stepped the man, who went headfirst into a pile of garbage. The other man rose and attacked, but Eric whirled around before lashing out with his leg, kicking the man in the gut, causing him to double-over, and then proceeding to elbow him hard in the spine.
With those two on the ground groaning in pain, Eric then turned his attention on Edgar, who was still on top of the costume girl. "If you release her now, I'll let you and your friends live…if you do not…well, you know the stories."
Edgar stared up at the Phantom, his mouth open but no sound coming forth. However, a grin slowly spread across his features as he saw one of his friends rise up slowly behind the Phantom, holding a long shard of wood in his hand, aiming it at Eric's head.
"I don't take orders from a masked freak," Edgar spat.
Eric sighed. "You just did a very stupid thing, monsieur."
Eric's senses were keen, like a wolf, and he bent just in time as the man swung at him with the wood. He kicked the man hard in the balls, then took the wood from his hands and used it as a club against him, hitting him hard across the face with it. Edgar stared in horror and turned his attentions to his other friend who was still groaning on the ground. "DON'T JUST SIT THERE! FIGHT THE BASTARD!"
Tris took this opportunity to bite down on his hand, causing him to yowl in pain and remove his filthy body just somewhat off her. With all her strength, she kicked her knee up which made contact with Edgar's groin, before screaming at Eric, "BEHIND YOU!"
Eric whirled around at that second to escape the lunge caused by Edgar's other friend, who was holding a knife. The blade did however make contact with the tails of Eric's trench coat, tearing a large hole in it. He growled and grabbed hold of the man's hand, twisting it till he dropped the blade.
"I rather like this coat," he hissed, before kicking the man with his boot, sending him backwards into a wall.
Yet once again, as soon as he was done fighting one man, the other recovered and leapt to his feet, attacking Eric again, this time throwing his whole body on top of the Phantom's. Eric was not prepared for this attack, and therefore taken by surprise by the burly man's strength. He winced, but did not cry out in pain as he felt the man punch his lower back. He threw his coat off then and wrapped it tightly around the man's head, causing him to throw blind punches in the air, to which Eric kicked the man hard in his left shin, before punching him even harder in the jaw.
Edgar had now recovered and grabbed Tris by her hair, causing her to cry out painfully as he lifted her off the ground.
"YOU!" he shouted at the Phantom. Eric turned around warily, seeing Edgar hold the girl tightly in one arm, while the other revealed a pistol to which he now held to her head. Tris who had been struggling stopped as she felt the cold metal of the pistol touch her temple.
"DON'T TAKE ANOTHER STEP!" Edgar ordered, thrusting the pistol hard against Tris. "OR I'LL BLOW HER BRAINS ALL ACROSS THIS ALLY!"
Eric did not say a word, he simply faced Edgar head on, his back to his other enemies, knowing he was vulnerable to whatever violence they wished to send his way. He stretched his arms out from his sides, revealing a sword that hung from his right hip.
"PUT THAT ON THE GROUND!" Edgar ordered, indicating to Eric's sword. Eric did not make a move, but calmly, removed the sword and, with excruciating slowness, placed it on the ground.
What game was he playing? Tris had a feeling he knew what he was doing, or at least she hoped he did. She wasn't sure what was going to happen to her, and she was surprised the Phantom had followed her all this way. Why was he risking his life for hers? She had unmasked and humiliated him, she would have thought that of all people, he would take pleasure to see her death. Well, after Jeanine. But why was he doing this…did he truly want to save her life? Or did he simply want to kill these men now…and then her later?
"Now…" Edgar said, trying to sound calm, but anyone could tell he truly wasn't. "You don't move…you let me go…and I won't hurt the girl," he explained, backing down the alley with Tris still held tightly to him.
"Let the girl go first," Eric ordered.
"No, she's coming with me," Edgar hissed. "What she mean to you anyway, hmm? Is she your little slut? I must admit you have rather quite good taste…"
"SHE COMES WITH ME!" Edgar shouted, before quickly calming himself. "When I know you're not following me…then I'll release her…but right now, she comes with me."
"No," Eric whispered, shaking his head. "That's not how it works."
Tris gasped as she watched him take another step towards them.
"STOP RIGHT THERE OR I WILL SHOOT HER!"
Eric paused…and then took another step.
"I MEAN IT!"
Tris squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the hot tears pierce her skin as they ran down her face.
"Why not point that gun at me?" Eric reasoned. "Killing me will actually solve all your problems."
Tris' eyes flew open. Was he serious? Edgar stared at the Phantom in shock. Erik took another step closer.
"After all, it will answer that question of whether the Phantom of the Opera is truly a ghost…or a man." He took another step. "And think of the fame. The fame you'll receive as the man who killed the horrific Phantom." He took another step.
Edgar shook his head.
"This girl means something to you!" he accused. "What she mean to you, anyway? Is she your slut that warms the monster's bed every night? I must admit, Phantom, but you do rather have a good taste in whores… though she's a little too flat chested for my liking."
Tris blushed by how he spoke and demeaned, but she didn't let her eyes leave the Phantom's. Eric looked at her closely, trying to weigh on his options and on what to do. As he analyzed his options, he looked into her eyes and saw the panic and fear within the blueish gray orbs. He frowned and tilted his slightly, mentally cursing himself he was now truly looking at a time like this, but her fearful glance that she gave him now and back in his labyrinth struck a chord in his memory. He remembered a look such as this, but it came from a little girl who was fearful for his life when his master and tormentor discovered them together almost touching hands. It had been a brave little girl that he called his angel who dared showed him kindness when no one- not even his own parents- did when she saw his hideous face and tried to help him when his owner started to beat and abuse him once more before she took the blows for him. There were similarities between the little girl and woman who stood before him now: hair, eyes, and they shared the same name… even the same nickname.
'It's not possible… She couldn't possibly… this woman.' Eric's mind drifted back to hours earlier when the costume girl dauntlessly went down to save her father and offered herself to become his prisoner. She had the same presence, appearance, and demeanor as the little angel, and that thought alone almost gave him a double take and lose his poker face. He remembered, he remembered her. He tried to take a closer step, but his trance was broken when Edgar buried his gun further into Tris' temple.
"I SAID DON'T FUCKING TAKE ANOTHER STEP!" He snapped. Eric could see Tris was trying to plead with her eyes to make him stop before the former stagehand took the next step and shot her.
"I will ask you one last time," Eric hissed, his voice low and deadly. "Let her go before you regret it."
"Not a chance! She means something to you I know it!" Edgar accused again.
"Well she is amusing, after all you lost your job because of her." Eric smirked, trying bait Edgar and now let him that now this girl did somehow mean something to him… whatever it was now.
"SHUT UP!" Edgar shouted, now aiming the pistol at Eric.
And that was what he wanted. In a flash, Eric's foot stomped down on top of the handle of the sword in which he laid on the ground, causing the blade to leap in the air, and before Eric could react to what was happening, Eric gripped the sword and lashed out, cutting off Edgar's hand that held the pistol, the blood spewing out like a fountain and splattering Edgar in the face.
"OH MY GOD!" he screamed, falling to the mud and gripping his lifeless bleeding arm to his body. "OH MY GOD!"
Tris stared in shock at what had just happened, her own face and body splattered with Edgar's blood. She gasped when she saw Edgar's friends rise to their feet, each groaning in pain, each clutching the bleeding wounds on their bodies, but nothing they had compared to what Edgar was suffering. Eric turned immediately and lifted his sword at them.
"Leave now," he growled. "I'm not normally this forgiving…in fact I never am…so I advise you to take this rare opportunity, and run for your lives." he growled, before adding, "and don't bother coming back for your friend."
The two men didn't need to be told twice. They fled the ally with their tails between their legs, like the cowardly dogs that they were. Edgar was still wailing like a banshee on the ground. He reached out and grabbed his now dismembered hand, cradling it like a mother would cradle a baby. He removed the pistol from the now lifeless fingers, and gazed up at Eric in rage. Suddenly, his sobs turned to a cry of fury and he lifted the pistol to Eric's head.
"NO!" Tris screamed, grabbing Edgar's head and tugging hard on his hair, causing him to reel back, but it was too late. The pistol had fired its shot.
Eric whirled around at the sound of Tris' scream. When he saw what Edgar was doing, he wasted no time, took the sword and slashed at the former stagehand's throat, causing his life's blood to spill out over chest. The pistol had been fired, but the bullet did not make the contact it had intended. Tris quickly released the gurgling Edgar, stepping away as she watched him convulse and his life leave his body, till he lay still like a rock in the mud.
It was raining. Tris wasn't sure when it had started, but her hair was sticking to her face and she could feel what was left of her clothes clinging to her body like paper. She lifted her eyes then to the Phantom, not sure what to say or do, but gasped when she saw him fall to his knees before her.
"Oh my god, are you alright?!" she asked, going to his side in an instant. She caught him before he crumbled to the ground, her arm going around his broad shoulders, trying to prop him up as best she could.
His breathing was heavy, ragged almost. He was groaning in pain, and…blood. There was blood on the black linen shirt he wore. She had thought it was Edgar's blood, but no…it was coming from somewhere on him!
She pushed back his shirt, gasping in horror at finding the source of the blood. The bullet hadn't missed him like she had thought. Edgar was aiming at the Phantom's head, but instead, the bullet had hit him in the chest, just below the shoulder. Tris' clothes were soaked and caked with mud, they would do no good for a bandage. She then began to rip the sleeve off his shirt and pressed it against his chest.
"You need to hold this there," she instructed. "Please…you need to hold this over your wound…you…monsieur? Monsieur!"
His eyes had rolled back and he lay lifeless in her arms. She wasted no time but bent her head over his chest. Yes, she could still hear a heartbeat, although it was very faint. She had no idea where she would be able to find a doctor; she wasn't even sure where she was! No, the only option was to take him back to the Opera House. True, she knew she was free and could run away from this place and pretend nothing had happened…but she refused to lower herself to such selfishness. She would not let a man who had risked his life for hers die in the mud. She looked all around her and thanked the Lord when she spotted several barrels of garbage lying on top of an old wheelbarrow. She pushed the barrels away and then used what strength she could to lift the Phantom onto the wheelbarrow. After she was sure he was secure, she draped his torn cape across his body, then proceeded to move him out of the ally and back to the Opera House. She only prayed that she would find it before her rescuer perished.
R&R!