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Part 14
February 15th, 1908
~ Moulin Rouge, Montmartre, France
"What do ya mean, Nini is missing? How? Did she go to bed last night with you garls?" Marie asked angrily. Monique, Rosette, and a few other girls nodded.
"Yes'm, she did. After she got back from her rendezvous, she performed and we all went to bed. But now she ain't here. No note or anything." Monique explained. Marie put her hands on her hips.
"We got to start rehearsal and she's playing Otis's wife! Oh, I'm gonna slap her around for dis one!" she vowed. She left the dressing room and headed out to Harold's office.
When she was going up the stairs, the front doors burst open and hysterical Christian.
"HAROLD! MARIE! LUCIE IS GONE!" he screamed. The door to Harold's office swung open and Marie and Harold bound down the stairs to where Christian was on his knees.
"What are you talkin' of, boy! Speak to me! Whaddya sayin'?" Marie demanded as she clutched Christian's face.
"She was taken..." He stood up and handed Harold the note.
"Blessed be the Virgin, it's THE DUKE!" Harold cried. Marie snatched the away and read it with broad, horrified eyes.
"He took her...right out from under my nose!" Christian bemoaned. "If anything happens to her..." Marie slapped Christian.
"Stop your whining, man! That isn't getting that baby back here! Now we got to think! How did the Duke know where to find you?" Harold prodded. Christian shook his head, trying to think.
"I have no idea-,"
"-Nini!" Marie whispered hoarsely. Harold and Christian turned to her.
"She's gone missing this morning..." Harold gasped.
"She wouldn't!" Marie shook her head.
"Harold, you know the animosity she has..." Christian stood.
"My god, we've got to find her!"
"She's not coming back here, Christian. She knows we aren't stupid, that we'll figure it out." Harold reasoned. Christian sighed.
"You're right. So what do we do?" Marie shook her head.
"All we can do is wait for that messenger."
***
Lucie in the sky with diamonds...Lucie in the sky with diamonds...
Lucie slowly and painfully opened her eyes, dreading what lie beyond them. It was very bright in the room she laid in, and the rays of light stung her sensitive eyes like hot pokers. She quickly pressed her hands on them and tears gushed out.
"It's about time you awoke." An angry, bitter voice spat. Lucie blinked rapidly and tried to focus on the figure across the room. She was lying on a couch, her ankles bound, in a very tastefully decorated room. Across the room was a small, skinny, blonde, beaver man with a weird maroon jacket on. He was sneering at her.
"Who are you and how can I get very far away from you?" she asked wearily.
"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. I am the man who decides just how long you live, Lucie." He laced her name with a sharp accent that made her heart thump. Don't let him know you're frightened. She chanted in her head.
"I didn't know God was such a puny, yellow-bellied, chicken liver." She replied coolly. He rushed over and in one smooth swoop he slapped her very hard. The salty warmth of blood in her mouth silenced her for a moment.
"Say that again, you little piss!" he seethed, with spittle getting on Lucie's face. "Do you know whom you're talking to?"
"No, and I don't care. Now take me home!" she demanded.
"Oh, yes, I am at your every beckon call...yeah, right!" he cackled evilly as he pulled out twine and twisted it angrily around her hands. She yelped as the sharp rope bit into the sensitive skin on her wrists.
"Fine! Who are you? What do you want?"
"I am Duke Richard Merriman of Conway." He said meaningfully. Lucie stared at him blankly.
"Okay...that means nothing to me." She frowned. He blinked.
"Well, just think of me as the poor schmuck your mother pawned into giving her so much money and then humiliating me!"
"That can't be a rare occurrence."
Another hard slap on the face. Instead of swallowing the blood, Lucie spit it right into his face.
"There, you pathetic-," but the ether was held over her face once again, and after a few moments, she was unconscious once again. Richard looked at her with intense hate smoldering below the surface. Warner stood nearby, the ether in hand.
"What should I do with her, boss?" he asked. Richard thought.
"Take her up into the attic, untie her, and lock her in. Then go deliver than message." Warner nodded and picked Lucie up like a rag doll and carried her upstairs.
He returned a few moments later with an envelope and was on his way, afoot, to the Moulin Rouge.
***
The entire cast of the Moulin Rouge sat in apprehensive wait in the ballroom, similar to the time that they awaited news of Satine's conquest with the Duke. Now it was just as hurtful, and everyone was just as uptight and ready to snap. Christian sat in a small corner alone, staring at an empty scotch glass.
The huge wooden ballroom was silent except for the occasional tapping and the opening or closing of a bottle of booze. Therefore, the loud bang of the knocker sent the room's occupant's a mile high. Christian jumped up and vaulted over furniture.
He reached the door and swung it open to reveal the much loathed and fear Warner.
"Christian?" the booming, colossal man asked. Christian seethed.
"You know damned well it's me." Warner's mouth moved into what could only pass as an attempted smile. He handed the envelope and small paper bag to him.
"If I am followed, my boss will know and the girl dies." He turned and strode away. Christian ripped open the envelope and cast members crowded behind him.
This club, you, Satine, and Zidler have humiliated me too many times. It's your turn to feel the anger I've felt and your turn to feel my wrath in it's entirety. I want the Moulin Rouge. I want the deeds. Then I will evict you all and level it. Don't think I won't, and don't ignore this because I have your child, your only link to your beloved whore. She is such a delicate thing...killing her would be so easy. If you wish that not to happen, you will follow my instructions to the letter.
Seal the deeds in an envelope, signed and authenticated by Zidler, and place them under Notre Dame tonight at midnight. Then vacate the area. Do not attempt to apprehend my associate, or she dies. When I receive confirmation, I will drop her at the entrance to Montmartre, unharmed.
Do not contact the police, for not only would that be fruitless because I have them under my payroll, but it would also result in her death. Now get to work.
Duke R. Merriman of Conway
"My god..." Christian trailed off. Harold had read over his shoulder and was staring a thousand yards away. The two things he loved most: the Moulin Rouge, and Lucie. Now he was forced to choose. Marie cursed.
"What are you going to do, Harol'?" Marie demanded. Harold couldn't breathe, but forced the words.
"I don't know..." Christian crumpled the paper.
"I'm going to kill him." He vowed.
"Let's get da baby back first. Now, Harol', go prepare the deeds..." Marie began. Christian shook his head.
"We cannot let him win!" he screamed.
"Do you want yer pride or yer chil'?" Marie returned, equally loud. Monique stood up.
"Not to interrupt, but what about that bag?" They all turned, and Harold walked over to it. He lifted it slowly and undid the top. A foul odor emitted from it, and he cautiously looked inside.
"MY GOD!" he shouted. The bag fell to the floor and a hand and wrist fell out. On the wrist was a gold bracelet with NINI engraved on it. The entire cast gasped and some women fainted.
"You see, Marie? Nini would have only done this if there was something in it for her, and I bet he didn't promise her death! That slime won't give her back, even if he had the deeds! We have to rescue her!" Harold stood up.
"This is not a fairy tale, Christian! Not having her back is risk we must take! Whether he wins or not, at least we have a CHANCE of getting Lucie back!" Christian nodded in defeat.
"You're right." He looked up at Satine's poster. Darling, he's going to win, but I must save Lucie. He told her mentally.
"Prepare the deeds."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note: Not much to say. Next chapter...
Part 14
February 15th, 1908
~ Moulin Rouge, Montmartre, France
"What do ya mean, Nini is missing? How? Did she go to bed last night with you garls?" Marie asked angrily. Monique, Rosette, and a few other girls nodded.
"Yes'm, she did. After she got back from her rendezvous, she performed and we all went to bed. But now she ain't here. No note or anything." Monique explained. Marie put her hands on her hips.
"We got to start rehearsal and she's playing Otis's wife! Oh, I'm gonna slap her around for dis one!" she vowed. She left the dressing room and headed out to Harold's office.
When she was going up the stairs, the front doors burst open and hysterical Christian.
"HAROLD! MARIE! LUCIE IS GONE!" he screamed. The door to Harold's office swung open and Marie and Harold bound down the stairs to where Christian was on his knees.
"What are you talkin' of, boy! Speak to me! Whaddya sayin'?" Marie demanded as she clutched Christian's face.
"She was taken..." He stood up and handed Harold the note.
"Blessed be the Virgin, it's THE DUKE!" Harold cried. Marie snatched the away and read it with broad, horrified eyes.
"He took her...right out from under my nose!" Christian bemoaned. "If anything happens to her..." Marie slapped Christian.
"Stop your whining, man! That isn't getting that baby back here! Now we got to think! How did the Duke know where to find you?" Harold prodded. Christian shook his head, trying to think.
"I have no idea-,"
"-Nini!" Marie whispered hoarsely. Harold and Christian turned to her.
"She's gone missing this morning..." Harold gasped.
"She wouldn't!" Marie shook her head.
"Harold, you know the animosity she has..." Christian stood.
"My god, we've got to find her!"
"She's not coming back here, Christian. She knows we aren't stupid, that we'll figure it out." Harold reasoned. Christian sighed.
"You're right. So what do we do?" Marie shook her head.
"All we can do is wait for that messenger."
***
Lucie in the sky with diamonds...Lucie in the sky with diamonds...
Lucie slowly and painfully opened her eyes, dreading what lie beyond them. It was very bright in the room she laid in, and the rays of light stung her sensitive eyes like hot pokers. She quickly pressed her hands on them and tears gushed out.
"It's about time you awoke." An angry, bitter voice spat. Lucie blinked rapidly and tried to focus on the figure across the room. She was lying on a couch, her ankles bound, in a very tastefully decorated room. Across the room was a small, skinny, blonde, beaver man with a weird maroon jacket on. He was sneering at her.
"Who are you and how can I get very far away from you?" she asked wearily.
"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. I am the man who decides just how long you live, Lucie." He laced her name with a sharp accent that made her heart thump. Don't let him know you're frightened. She chanted in her head.
"I didn't know God was such a puny, yellow-bellied, chicken liver." She replied coolly. He rushed over and in one smooth swoop he slapped her very hard. The salty warmth of blood in her mouth silenced her for a moment.
"Say that again, you little piss!" he seethed, with spittle getting on Lucie's face. "Do you know whom you're talking to?"
"No, and I don't care. Now take me home!" she demanded.
"Oh, yes, I am at your every beckon call...yeah, right!" he cackled evilly as he pulled out twine and twisted it angrily around her hands. She yelped as the sharp rope bit into the sensitive skin on her wrists.
"Fine! Who are you? What do you want?"
"I am Duke Richard Merriman of Conway." He said meaningfully. Lucie stared at him blankly.
"Okay...that means nothing to me." She frowned. He blinked.
"Well, just think of me as the poor schmuck your mother pawned into giving her so much money and then humiliating me!"
"That can't be a rare occurrence."
Another hard slap on the face. Instead of swallowing the blood, Lucie spit it right into his face.
"There, you pathetic-," but the ether was held over her face once again, and after a few moments, she was unconscious once again. Richard looked at her with intense hate smoldering below the surface. Warner stood nearby, the ether in hand.
"What should I do with her, boss?" he asked. Richard thought.
"Take her up into the attic, untie her, and lock her in. Then go deliver than message." Warner nodded and picked Lucie up like a rag doll and carried her upstairs.
He returned a few moments later with an envelope and was on his way, afoot, to the Moulin Rouge.
***
The entire cast of the Moulin Rouge sat in apprehensive wait in the ballroom, similar to the time that they awaited news of Satine's conquest with the Duke. Now it was just as hurtful, and everyone was just as uptight and ready to snap. Christian sat in a small corner alone, staring at an empty scotch glass.
The huge wooden ballroom was silent except for the occasional tapping and the opening or closing of a bottle of booze. Therefore, the loud bang of the knocker sent the room's occupant's a mile high. Christian jumped up and vaulted over furniture.
He reached the door and swung it open to reveal the much loathed and fear Warner.
"Christian?" the booming, colossal man asked. Christian seethed.
"You know damned well it's me." Warner's mouth moved into what could only pass as an attempted smile. He handed the envelope and small paper bag to him.
"If I am followed, my boss will know and the girl dies." He turned and strode away. Christian ripped open the envelope and cast members crowded behind him.
This club, you, Satine, and Zidler have humiliated me too many times. It's your turn to feel the anger I've felt and your turn to feel my wrath in it's entirety. I want the Moulin Rouge. I want the deeds. Then I will evict you all and level it. Don't think I won't, and don't ignore this because I have your child, your only link to your beloved whore. She is such a delicate thing...killing her would be so easy. If you wish that not to happen, you will follow my instructions to the letter.
Seal the deeds in an envelope, signed and authenticated by Zidler, and place them under Notre Dame tonight at midnight. Then vacate the area. Do not attempt to apprehend my associate, or she dies. When I receive confirmation, I will drop her at the entrance to Montmartre, unharmed.
Do not contact the police, for not only would that be fruitless because I have them under my payroll, but it would also result in her death. Now get to work.
Duke R. Merriman of Conway
"My god..." Christian trailed off. Harold had read over his shoulder and was staring a thousand yards away. The two things he loved most: the Moulin Rouge, and Lucie. Now he was forced to choose. Marie cursed.
"What are you going to do, Harol'?" Marie demanded. Harold couldn't breathe, but forced the words.
"I don't know..." Christian crumpled the paper.
"I'm going to kill him." He vowed.
"Let's get da baby back first. Now, Harol', go prepare the deeds..." Marie began. Christian shook his head.
"We cannot let him win!" he screamed.
"Do you want yer pride or yer chil'?" Marie returned, equally loud. Monique stood up.
"Not to interrupt, but what about that bag?" They all turned, and Harold walked over to it. He lifted it slowly and undid the top. A foul odor emitted from it, and he cautiously looked inside.
"MY GOD!" he shouted. The bag fell to the floor and a hand and wrist fell out. On the wrist was a gold bracelet with NINI engraved on it. The entire cast gasped and some women fainted.
"You see, Marie? Nini would have only done this if there was something in it for her, and I bet he didn't promise her death! That slime won't give her back, even if he had the deeds! We have to rescue her!" Harold stood up.
"This is not a fairy tale, Christian! Not having her back is risk we must take! Whether he wins or not, at least we have a CHANCE of getting Lucie back!" Christian nodded in defeat.
"You're right." He looked up at Satine's poster. Darling, he's going to win, but I must save Lucie. He told her mentally.
"Prepare the deeds."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note: Not much to say. Next chapter...