Disclaimer: Not mine
For those of you who hate cliffhangers like 'trapped,' I urge you not to read this chapter until the next... say... two are done.
…
Olric brushed the dust off of his suit as he paused outside the door of the makeshift keeping chamber. Naturally, the ghost had been taken care of, now residing in a little chamber of his own devising. A small grin tightened the ends of Olric's lips, knowing the demoralizing effects a little smugness could have on a man such as the ghost. However, this chamber was not in the least for the ghost.
It was for Christine.
Nodding some soldiers off, Olric grimaced, reminded their crude methods of capture- they literally had to drag Christine away from her little chap, surely scaring her half to death. Olric knew better than to try and stop the soldiers at the time, but their actions would cost him dearly.
Still, there was one problem that nagged at him- when Christine was being so shamefully snatched away from the Vicompt (which none of the soldiers could pronounce), she had, naturally, screamed for him. But she also screamed for the ghost, whom she called by the name 'Erik.' It was troubling to know that Christine and the ghost were close, aware of how quickly any successful operation could fall from grace.
Olric shook free of his doubts. He decided to deal with his problems one at a time- Christine now. Ghost later. Looking over himself once more, Olric decided he was presentable. Bringing himself up to his full height, 5' 10", Olric strode Christine's keeping chambers.
Christine was sitting on a small, cot-like bed, her legs pulled up to her chest and ringing her hands as she looked up in fear at Olric's approach. Neither said anything for a moment as Olric closed the door. When the silence had settled, finally one of them spoke;
"Why… are you doing this?" Christine whispered, huddling against the wall. "Who are you? Why am I here?" Questions began spilling out of lips, out of her mind, hurling themselves almost accusingly at Olric. "Where is Erik?" Olric raised his hands and silenced her.
"I shall answer your questions," He replied calmly, "or as many that need to be answered for the time being. I am Rikard P. Olric. I apologize for the circumstances of your retrieval- mercenaries can be so disorganized and rash. Please forgive my carelessness, as I should have made my instructions more clear." Something glinted softly in Christine's eyes.
"…as for Erik?" Olric winced. He had tried to divert her attention, but if that was what she wanted… so be it.
"I will take you to him," Olric said darkly. "Come."
…
The torture chamber.
Some how, Erik felt a cruel laugh escape his lips. The torture chamber. How Ironic, he thought, to be trapped in the torture chamber of my own design. He had brought this upon himself, and he knew it.
I knew better than to leave those papers lying around. But when Erik thought, he realized they hadn't been. He had them tucked away in a portfolio with all his room designs, a black silk slip, embroidered in a fine, silvery thread with room design, consisting of a six sided shape- the torture chamber itself, in all it's sickening glory. Behind closed eyes, Erik scowled. He had literally displayed the work he wished to keep hidden... Ingenious. Stunningly ingenious.
Erik lowered himself to the ground and curled up on the floor, staring at the brushed metal, and couldn't help but smirk. They went so far as to steal my sketches and didn't even build it right. The design of the torture chamber was that all sides mirrored, even the floor and ceiling. These two surfaces, however, reflected nothing. Within the walls of the torture chamber, Erik was amazed to find that he had began to relax, his muscles un-tensing. His face grew accustomed to the air, and for a moment he swore he felt normal.
A scraping noise coming from above opened Erik's eyes and jerked him awake. A section of the Torture Chamber was being… Lifted? Of course. The window. The Rosy Hours in Mazenderan began comeing back to Erik...
These thoughts however were quickly interrupted as the scraping came to a halt, and cold silence followed.
…
Christine stared down into the torture chamber through the window from the 'viewing chamber' in shock. Erik lay perfectly still, crumpled on the floor. Monsieur Rikard on the other hand seemed in the best of humors she could imagine a man such as he could be.
"He literary showed me straight to his designs, in one way or another," Rikard said with a twinkle in his voice, "Though I honestly didn't expect the torture chamber to get to quickly-"
Hearing this Erik sprang up and glared into the eyes of his captor.
A man's head and soldiers came into view. His jaw was hard set and his eyes were a grey-blue. Rough skin was pulled taught over his cheekbones, and his entire face was stolid and professional. There was a look on his face of grim satisfaction and amusement, as if this mocking was the only thing he could possibly take pleasure in.
Erik didn't hide his face. In an instant he learned to loath his man, to loath it maybe even more than Raoul, with such an insulted hatred that he was almost glad to show this man his face, to show him horror in it's purest form.
"This chamber has not infiltrated my senses, thank you," Erik said, barely masking his annoyance with a calm tone. "I simply was attempting to keep my sanity." The man's eyes flashed.
"I see," he said with a hint of sarcasm that couldn't have possibly peeved Erik more. "Either way, allow me to introduce myself- I am Rikard Olric, and your name, Erik, I already know." Erik nodded, still holding Olric's gaze, and turned his cheek slightly so more of his distorted side showed. "A bit forward about your horrors, aren't you?"
"I think I've learned look beyond physical appearance," Erik lied... Or was he really? Had he changed?
"I'm sure," Olric agreed with a hint of right… behind his voice. "Well then I'm sure you'd be glad to see this!" he said, suddenly grabbing Christine's wrist and dragging her into view.
"Christine!" Erik cried, staring into the eyes of a terrified Christine. Immediately he turned his face away and tried to reach up to mask it, only to discover his hands were bound to his legs so he could not hide. Erik felt his chest tighten and his lungs cramp, as if filing with liquid. A vile cackling broke into the torture chamber.
"Beyond physical appearance indeed!" Olric laughed. For a moment, Erik was free of his panic as fury flooded into him, overflowing the dam of confusion, reaching for his lasso…
Where was it?
"Looking for this?" Olric snarled wickedly as suddenly the Punjab lasso plunged into the torture chamber on a hook. Erik felt himself break down, his body spazing and his mind in a state of mass hysteria as he lost the ability to distinguish speech from thought…
…
My god my GOD! What is that thing?
Oh my lord!
Lucifer is returning to us…
Get OFF me!
In the form…
I am not the devil! Please let me explain!
Of…
A five year old.
This kid is the devil?
It's a monster!
Hideous…. Deformed…. Disgusting…. Get this thing away from here! Get it out of my sight, get this devil out of here!
I'm not-
You must have him destroyed!
Send him back to hell!
No! no! Don't send me back there!
We found these in his residence.
The torture chamber!
The torture chamber? That is what's in calligraphy? The rest of the measurements are in crude tally marks…
The sultana will like this, take him to the Shah-in-Shah!
Give me those back! My designs! Please monsieur-
Silence you little demon! You're devoid of rights until your mommy comes to save you! Why isn't she here anyway? Bet she hates you, you monster- who would want something like you? A filthy monstrosity… serves you right!
The sultana flipped through the papers, a small smile crossing her features, of grim satisfaction, of amusement as if this was the only that pleased her.
Lets through him in his little design shall we? Him and a friend, and maybe a few toys for them to play with.
Please no-
Ha! Away with the monster!
The boy forced down the stairs into his torture chamber, then thrown into it, slammed against the wall.
Here's a toy…
And here's a friend!
I am honored to kill this beast!
I am not a beast! Please I do not wish to die!
Silence you toad, you thing of devils blood! Your horrors should be wiped from the Earth and I have been given the chance to destroy it!
But I am no monster please-
Stop groveling you coward and fight him!
But I am no such beast!
Yes you are you horrible thing! Stop denying it and square with the fact you are not a man! No one wants you, not your mother nor the woman you love!
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH CHRISTINE!
…
Christine stared at Olric in utter horror as he closed the window to the torture chamber. Even through the glass she could hear Erik screaming, cursing himself. Send him back to hell! No! No! Don't send me back there! How could Olric do this?
"What are you doing!" she screeched, "Stop this, he's having an attack! Please, if you have any heart at all, take him out of there!"
"You forget that he is a murderer, Christine," Olric replied, "All this is perfectly within the law."
"Stop this! You're killing him!"
"The moment he steps out of there, he is still condemned to death!" Olric hissed in delight. He's ENJOYING this! My god!
"But not like this!" she entreated, "If your soul is so black you cannot let him live, at least don't let him die like this!"
"I shall not let him out of there," He said darkly. Dim echoes of Erik's fit played in her ears. You little demon! Hearing Olric's words, Christine realized who the real monster was.
…
I told you! You'll hate the next one even more . Please review and beg me to continue. I'm actually starting to like this…(oh my god YOU ARE WORSE THAN OLRIC!) (What can I do? I'm a writer )
after note: I'll explain why Erik is still deformed later... Alot later. Even though I know. Now back to homework for me.