Chapter 14

"But the wall is already finished." Piero Grimaudo snatched the vellum from my hands, taking in the alterations. "We would lose weeks of work for this." My foreman cursed in Italian.

"I am not pleased with the situation myself." I replied. "Several days of my own work went into starting the carvings that likely will not be salvageable. I assure you, it is unavoidable."

After studying the plans in silence for some moments, he looked up at me pleadingly. "I would never dare to advise you, Sir, but please tell me once this accursed mansion is done, you will no longer build for this client."

I closed my eyes wearily. "You have my solemn promise."

"Alright." Releasing a resigned sigh, he held up the drafts. "We have already wasted time on areas that were changed by this client. I want to be certain I understand what the plan is now."

"Today the men will need to remove this section of the wall. It is crucial that the corner here remain stable or there is a risk of collapse, which would create yet more work. As we are already behind on this project … "

"Through no fault of our own." Grimaudo interjected.

"I do not blame you or the crew for this, however that fact remains true. It is in my highest interest to be rid of this project as swiftly as we can. I trust I can leave this in your capable hands today? The frieze on the Holt mansion is ready for dressing. My presence is required there."

With a slow nod, he eyed the plans one more time before he sighed. "I will do as much as I can. Once the wall is removed, we will proceed on erecting its replacement. Now, this arch here where is the— "

A voice over my shoulder interrupted the foreman. "Pardon me. Would you be Monsieur Erik?"

Glancing back, I noted a short man who tipped his hat to me politely.

"I am." I replied curtly.

He flashed his teeth in a wide smile. "Good."

That was the last thing I saw as my world went black in an explosion of pain.

Gradually coming to my senses again, I felt cold stone beneath my prone body. The back of my head throbbed. Attempting to lift it, I felt the world swirl even without vision. Not wanting the nausea to grow any further, I left my eyes closed. What had happened? There was that man, the one who had asked who I was. Did something collapse? Chains could fail, stone could fall. Something had struck the back of my head hard enough to render me unconscious, at least briefly. I wondered if perhaps there was even some blood from it.

I shifted my left arm in an attempt to examine my head, only to discover it resisted my effort. Not that the muscles would not obey, there was an unyielding resistance. An odd pressure. Cracking open my eyes, I found myself lying on the floor on my right side in a darkened room. Trying once more to move, I looked down to find both my wrists bound together by a short link of chain secured to a belt locked around my waist. I had been stripped of my fine wool suit and was now clothed in itchy rough spun rags. Shifting my legs, I heard the unmistakable clank of metal links across the floor before feeling the tension halt my efforts. Attached to the wall by a length of chain barely a third of a meter in length, there was but one link between my ankles, offering extremely limited motion.

Panic added a shudder to my breathing as I realized the bindings made it nearly impossible to escape, let alone even sit up. I had been thoroughly bound to a stone wall in some dark and stinking room without even the faintest idea what had occurred. I had to get out of here!

The ache of my head no longer mattered. Pulling with all my strength, I tried to slip my thin wrists through the shackles. For all my pains, I only succeeded in scraping the skin.

"Damn it!" I snarled thrashing against the bonds in a fit of desperation that left me gasping for breath. I was being a fool, this wouldn't work. I had to get a hold of myself, collect my frantic actions and focus on this. I was an escape artist, after all. It was only the matter of a state of mind that stood between me and freedom from whomever held me captive. Lying still for a moment, I rested my head on the floor, studying the door comprised of interlocked iron bars. The rest of the small barren room was made of mortared stone. There were no windows, the only source of light was a faint cast from the hall beyond. Searching the floor, I noted there was nothing lying around to use as a lock pick. The restraints were tight enough to resist any of my usual tricks to slip out of them. It was nearly as though they had been made to measure for me. This was the work of some professional who had been wise enough to know the benefit of limiting the range of hand motion. Had I been able to do so, I would have applauded them.

The only approach left to me was to rub the shackle against the stone in an attempt to bend the latch pin enough. The repetitious movement produced almost a trance-like state.

"Stop that!" A fist drove into the middle of my back.

I'd never heard the door open, nor the man cross the floor. The blow produced a pained howl from me as I tried to feebly protect myself. What I had hoped to accomplish in the tight bindings not even I knew, but instinct drove me to try anything to get away.

His shadow hovered over me, a man of muscular build holding a thick wooden stick as he sneered down at me. "Our newest guest finally came to. Took you long enough. Don't look the same without all those fancy cloths. No sir. What a nasty shock you gave the others when they took that mask off."

My throat tightened as I belatedly realized the bare skin of my forehead had contacted the stone. "Give it back!" I cried out.

He rammed the stick into my chest with enough force to expel the air in my lungs. "Not a chance, monster. This is all you get here, hard as it will be for us to have to look at you. What the hell, you rotting alive or something?"

My hand tightened into a fist. Through gritted teeth I scowled up at him. "Do not call me monster. Strike me again with that stick and I will break it across your skull."

Leaning down close to me, he waved the offensive weapon. "Like to see you try, freak."

Anger surged through every muscle in my body, only to be fully absorbed by the links of chain leaving me a finger-length from reaching him.

Throwing his head back, he laughed at my futile effort before placing the edge of the stick against my chin, forcing me to look up into his cruel eyes. "You have no idea what has happened to you, you ugly bastard. This here is where you will spend the rest of your dismal life, with the rest of the criminally insane."

Thrashing once more, I could not help but think the motion resembled a fish upon dry land, for it was just as productive. "I do not belong here! I am not insane!"

Bringing the stick across my throat, I felt the blow momentarily cease my ability to breathe, before each breath became a racking coughing fit. With that singular blow went my last thread of potential power. Already I could feel the swelling of my larynx. Any chance of entrancing him to bend his actions to my will vanished.

He waited. The sick bastard crouched over me with a grin on his face just watching as I writhed for each breath. At long last, once I was reduced to lying on the floor, each reedy breath a supreme effort, he tapped the floor with the stick. "That's better. There are rules at the asylum here. You lunatics tend to be rather loud. That's the first thing you need to learn. Quiet. You're not going to leave this room — ever. Regardless of how much you might whine or wail. Those restraints are there for a good reason. Word is, you are quite the killer and it was only a matter of time before things caught up with you. Years back, bunch of high class fellows died and word was you had it out for them. Turns out people don't like a monster in their midst."

"No." I sobbed out, trying to push myself up off the floor unsuccessfully. Desperation drove me to try and explain despite the pain of each word. "Was not me … ask Damrosch … "

Flicking my elbow from beneath me, he chuckled as my head hit the floor. All I saw was an explosion of tiny stars before a low moan escaped me. He stood up, his footsteps echoing as they carried him to the door. "No need. Who do you think made the arrangements." The lock turned in the door leaving me adrift in pained confusion.

My heart rate increased as the horror of my situation settled in. An asylum? For the criminally insane? Was this how it would all end? I had spent a lifetime with the fear of such a place hanging over my head. These horrific halls where a human life was reduced to a living nightmare of degradation. Bound and caged like a feral beast, every fresh attempt at freedom only producing further misery.

I had no way of knowing in my solitude how many hours or possibly days were passing by. Distantly, I was aware of the anguished wails of the other prisoners, before they were savagely beaten once more into silence. Whether it was by surrender or loss of consciousness, I could not tell from within the confines of my cell. But I was not immune to the rain of agony. Our captors seemed to enjoy provoking the unwilling subjects in this kingdom of hell. Time was but a passage between the door opening to a new brutal series of insults and blows, which we were rendered powerless to resist. If the rest were like me, they only longed to be left alone.

Shivering against the wall, I clung desperately to some vain hope that Christine or Nadir would come to my aid and procure my release. Did they even know where I was? Truthfully, I did not even know the full name of my prison. Would it matter what the name was? It was the last place I wanted to be, the last place I wanted to die in.

The clicking of a tongue broke the immediate silence. I had not heard the door open and shut, but that would hardly be the first time someone had entered without my knowledge. Curling tighter, I tried to hide my face, expecting the usual harsh greeting of a kick.

But it didn't come.

Slowly, I dared to let my gaze search into the dark room. There, leaning casually against the locked door he stood. Tall and sinewy with raven hair, he was dressed in black, draped in a long cloak. An air of absolute power enveloped him as his long fingers stroked the edges of his satin lapel.

My chain clinked, striking the floor as I jerked upright as far as I could. He was wearing my mask! Trembling with rage I fought my way to my knees as this stranger dared to gaze down upon me in my own mask. I wanted to scream at him to return it, but my still raw throat choked off any efforts above a pained whisper. All I managed was a wordless rasp before I was reduced to coughing.

"What have we here." The voice was lyrical, pulsing with retained power as he observed me from his lofty height. "Now now, do not fuss. You have already made this situation substantially more uncomfortable than it has to be. By now, you must have learned the reward of a disturbance."

Sucking in as much air as I could, I concentrated on keeping my voice below the threshold my bruised larynx would permit sound. "That is my mask. I want it back."

"This?" He lifted a graceful hand turning it in dismissal. "What need do you have of it here? Every eye has already glimpsed the real you. There is nothing to hide any longer."

I closed my eyes to the sound of the chain links striking one another. The cadence of my trembling carrying through. "Do not tease me." I nearly lost my fight to keep my voice low enough not to choke.

He laughed as he pushed off from the wall. Long strides carried his upright form smoothly along the entire perimeter of my abysmal cell. Save for within my reach. He was wise enough not to stray that close. "This is such a shameful residence for you, Erik. To think, a man of your unbridled potential rotting away like some demented animal. I found your previous dwelling much more suited to your stature."

Swallowing, I watched his languid motions as he seated himself on the floor across from me. Bringing a knee up, he rested his arm there while his other hand adjusted a blood red silken cravat about his neck. Silk, such a soft fabric. Against my cut and bruised skin I felt the rough fibers of my own clothing producing the tireless itch I could never scratch. That alone was sufficient to drive a man to madness.

Taking another good breath, I rasped out, "Who are you, some doctor?"

Nodding his head he studied me with unblinking eyes, shadowed by the mask in the darkened room I could not see the irises. "One could say that. One could say many things, really. Except you, it must hurt to speak. Such a shame to have born such an injury so swiftly after being imprisoned here. Or else your release should have been secured."

I scowled at him darkly as he chuckled.

"Tell me." The curious note of his voice drifted in the air as he continued to observe me. "Is it colder here at night than during the day? Oh, I suppose you would not know that. I have only just noticed you do not have the luxury of a window. Poor fellow."

My eyes narrowed to a hostile glare even as I felt my hands flexing, yearning for his throat. If I could reach further, but the iron links held my wrists fast.

Cocking his head at my response, he lifted his hands and held them out wide. "Whatever has triggered such hostility, Erik? I have come to offer relief from your solitude. By the looks of it, no one else has even bothered."

Lowering my gaze to the floor, I muttered, "You mock me."

He began to laugh. Not some expression of mirth, but a dark and brooding sound born of malevolence. "That, my friend, takes so very little these days."

Only sparing him a glare, I commenced a series of small shifts in an effort to turn away from him. On such a paltry length of chain, it took almost an act of genius to gain any maneuverability.

"Come now." My visitor leaned forward hovering in the corner of my vision, for I could not maneuver sufficiently to block him out entirely. "There is no need to be taciturn."

All I needed to do was lift my chin a little to expose the bruise I knew must be readily visible for all the trouble it gave me.

"Well." He rolled a shoulder. "There is that little difficulty. But it is not insurmountable. You can still whisper. So let us share in some wit."

"I have no time for your barely hidden insults."

He looked about the room. "Stands to reason, you have all the time in the world. Well, that is until you die."

My hands clenched, once more the sound of the chains betraying the motion.

"So sad." His voice was very close. I became aware of his breath against my ear. "To think the man you once were and to see what you have become. How the all-powerful can fall so dramatically from the pinnacle of achievement. Why, why did you ever compromise?"

My shoulders fell under the weight of his words, softly spoken they stung like a lash.

"The world had been yours for the taking. On bended knee before your irresistible song." He taunted, "Who is on his knees now?"

With a growl, I flung my weight in his direction, hoping that his arrogance had left him within the slight striking range the few chain links afforded. I do not know if I managed to hit him. All I recall was a fit of demented rage before the blackness brought it all to an abrupt end.

When I awoke to half a dozen more bruises and my eye half swollen shut, it was not a difficult deduction to assume I had attracted some unwanted attention to myself. Levering myself off the floor carefully, I hoped that I had managed to leave some scar upon that arrogant visitor that should plague him for the rest of his days.

"Sleep well?"

I had to turn my head a little further for the swollen eye, but there he stood once more. Leaning against the iron door.

Offering me an inclined chin, he smiled beneath the mask. "Do not look so happy to see me. After all, I do have better things to do than waste my time on an old carcass like you."

Consciously, I had to force myself to breathe. He looked entirely unscathed. Breath after breath, I felt the speed intensifying, the rage inside building as that masked man lingered in the cell. Against my better judgment, I attempted to shout, "Get out!"

Somehow, I doubted there was any power in the rasped cry. But it was loud enough to summon another round of unconsciousness for the disruption.

This time when I opened my eyes, I did not bother to even try to push myself up from the floor. Lying there on the ground, I could sense his presence. That cold masked man haunting the corner of the cell, savoring my misery.

"It does appear that your captors enjoy their job. They are so very quick to respond and very thorough."

His remark was met with utter silence. When I refused to look at him, he tapped the iron bars with a metal object causing them to ring almost musically. Still, I kept staring blindly at the bare wall.

"No words for me this time?" He mused, "You cannot ignore me forever, Erik. Not when I truly desire your undivided attention."

Levering myself up very carefully, to avoid aggravating my battered body, I let a low chuckle escape me. "I have figured you out."

"Oh?" He continued to play music on the bars. "Do tell."

Closing my eyes, I whispered out. "You are not real. Just some specter likely come from a concussion. Yes, that is all. Just some ghost."

Slow laughter filled the entire cell, a chilling sound that pulsed like a heartbeat. "I am very real. As real as you are." His steps echoed, one halting pace at a time as he circled the room. I refused to open my eyes. "What is frighteningly pathetic is that in all this time you have failed to realize the truth. How far you have fallen."

Right in front of me, he paused. The hem of his cloak brushed against the back of my neck.

"Erik. You were once the most powerful man. Gifted beyond all measure. You had but to speak to unleash your control over anyone you desired. Anything and everything could have been yours. What happened to you? You let the world shackle you. Strip you of your dignity. Bind your greatest gifts to earthly limitations. Why?"

His foot levered against my shoulder, shoving me back against the wall. Still, I refused to look up. Instinct over-riding my efforts, I curled into myself for protection.

"They forged you into a coward. Everything sacrificed for one thing. The chance to be like everyone else." His fingers reached down and grasped the rough collar of my shirt, forcing me to look into his mismatched eyes.

I gasped as I peered through the mask to see those malevolent eyes pierce me.

"You are not like everyone else, Erik! You never have been, you never well be!" Holding me fast, he flung his hand toward the door.

I was dumbstruck with awe, it seemed so strange seeing myself … not the aged man I had become, but the impulsive youth who once gorged himself on power.

"Your heart has made you foolish and weak. How can you do this to us? The man who once stood unbowed before the shah of Persia now lies dying, bound in chains, mutely accepting beatings. He has become a true living corpse. No one is coming to save you! No one! And yet you turn from me. I am all you have, all you have ever had!"

"Power … " I began, spellbound by those eyes I had only ever glimpsed in those rare glances in a mirror. My God, they held me mesmerized. Their strange unease capturing the senses, binding them like iron. This man, the one I had once been, dominated everything and I knew without a doubt that even without the restraints, I would have bowed before him in awe.

His words seeped into my veins. He was right. I was nothing like I had once been. I had become a pale shadow content to have a fragile existence in this world.

"Love … " I stuttered out.

He released the fabric, letting me slide roughly against the wall. "Hah! Love. What was that but some distraction. It costs a man everything. What have you for it?"

I had to force my eyes to close. My thoughts were a turbulent mess, but an overwhelming sense of importance persisted. "She loves me … I live for her."

"Would you kill for her?" In his hands he deftly rolled a small object with blurring speed. "Oh wait, you already have. You were responsible for the death of her husband, Raoul."

With a jerk, I looked up into those dark eyes as I protested. "The final strike was not mine!"

Holding out a hand, he smiled mischievously. "You wanted it to be, Erik. Do not lie to yourself. That was slaughter in the purest sense. You knew even before the blade was drawn that he stood no chance in a duel against you. Fencing left-handed gave you a supreme advantage alone, even without factoring how poor of health his own over-indulgences had rendered him. That horse did him a favor. In the many weeks that followed that duel, as you lie in the torturous grip of opium withdrawal ... a fate which, I will remind you, your supposed friend took that very opportunity to force upon you ... your thoughts circled back more than once on how you had been cheated the coup de grace. You cannot deceive me, I know! You had every intention of running the blade through that insufferable cur."

The venomous hold of that voice stole my ability to think. I could not construct a single sentence in argument.

"And now, you have nothing!" He spun, sending the cloak into a swirl. "Absolutely nothing! You lie here rotting away and the supposed love of your life has not so much as called upon you! Go on, cling to it. Continue to cling to that pathetic belief that you are still capable of being accepted as a human. It is working so well for you."

Breathless, I felt my shoulder against the wall as I hunched there trembling, lost under the deluge of his reasoning.

"Or … " He held out a hand to me, that graceful beckoning motion that my muscles knew well for how often they had performed it. It was unnerving to see it, to feel the unwitting pull on the fibers of self. "Realize you have but one salvation in this world. Embrace who you really are."

I stood there speechless before the power. The pulse of the voice echoed within my head. It felt like I was swimming against a powerful current just to think, the will to resist bending further and further … threatening to break.

Standing … I had not realized I was standing until I had taken a step. The chains lie discarded on the floor.

In shock, I looked once more at the man now at my eye level. His hand offered a small shank of metal, an old lock pick. Mechanically I reached out and took it, staggering toward the iron door despite each painful step.

His low laughter filled my ears. "I am the only one you could ever depend on, Erik. You can never abandon me."

Desperately, I reached out of the cell. With clumsy fingers I shoved it into the lock. Shaking on the prospect of getting caught, it took me far longer than my normal dexterity would have until the lock yielded. The door swung open, leading to the narrow stone hall with its seemingly endless series of iron doors. Down the corridor I saw it, another barred door. But beyond that was my freedom!

No one stood in the way. It felt as though months had passed since last I had glimpsed daylight! I may have been wrong, but I had no way of knowing. Headlong, I tore down the corridor to the chorus of desperate cries of those still confined within their cells. I had to reach the door! I had to get out of here, that was all that mattered. To leave this hellish place of chains, bars, and beatings behind me.

My hand grasped the iron bar of the door. As I reached through with the pick my knee gave out, smashed by a savage blow from behind. Screaming in agony, I thrashed as I felt their hands dragging me back, back to the darkness, the humiliation, the shame. The laughter! That malevolent laughter filled the air, ringing in my ears.

"Erik! Come back to me!"

I had to get away. I had to block out that sound. Thrashing, I tried to find some purchase, some resistance to push against.

"Erik, stop! What are you doing? Wake up!"

The hands lost their hold. Blindly I made a dash, not caring which way it was, anything was better than that dark isolating cell. I screamed out hoarsely, "No! I will not go back to darkness!" My pathway became barred by stone, I fell against a railing, clinging to it for balance. The laughter still followed me. "Leave me alone!"

"Erik … " It was a soft desperate cry, distant and distinctly feminine. "Erik, please wake up!"

Yes Erik, wake up. The taunting laugh echoed.

I spun around, pushing my back against the corner. My vision blurred by tears as I wailed out. "Get away from me!"

Arms grasped me tightly, pulling me down even as my knees gave out. I felt a hand stroking my face as I trembled. Opening my eyes I found myself wedged against my balustrade, Christine's frantic eyes gazing down at me. "Erik, what is wrong?"

I reached out and seized her wrists tightly. She flinched in my grip. If I let go, she might vanish! "I am not insane! I am not crazy! No more darkness!" It became a mantra I was powerless to cease muttering.

"Shh." Christine freed one of her wrists. Holding my head firmly, she ran her fingers through my sweat soaked hair. "Erik, everything is alright now."

Everything is fine. The echo was inside my head followed by that insidious laugh.

Frantically I fought to get away, crying out as I struggled to break free. Nadir's strong hand clasped my shoulder. "Christine, I heard the commotion from downstairs. What's wrong?"

"I don't know."

Despite my fitful struggles, between the two holding me I lay there hearing their words from a distance. I fought to reach them, swimming in a great turbulent sea towards that tiny island of refuge. I could not reach them.

"Nadir, I woke to him thrashing in the bed. So much so he fell off the edge. When I tried to speak to him, he ran for the balcony. He ran headlong into the railing like he didn't even see it." She continued to stroke my head. "Please, my Angel, just calm down. Everything is alright."

Nothing to be afraid of.

"Stop torturing me, you monster!" I twisted once more unsuccessfully in her grasp before I felt a glass pressed to my lips. The sweet red wine barely concealed its true purpose, the aftertaste of my sleeping draught.

"That should take him back to a dreamless sleep." Nadir's fingers took my wrist, feeling for the pulse.

My eyes opened and closed, barely seeing what was before them as I felt my frantic breathing gradually settle.

"I've never seen him like this." Christine relaxed her death grip on me.

"It does not happen very often." Nadir continued his hold on my wrist. I was muttering something, I think. "But yes, even Erik suffers nightmares. Why do you think when he chooses to fully sleep he uses the draught. Without it he won't consciously let himself rest long enough to fall into a deep sleep. He confessed to me once that dreaming is not a luxury he can permit himself to have. There are dangers that lurk in the darkness."

"Erik, hush now." She rocked me gently. "No one is going to lock you away. Shh. I promise you, my love. No chains, no bars, not ever."

"His heart was really racing. It's slowing back to normal now." Nadir gently pried open my eye. "I don't think he really woke up. Some sort of state between states."

"He was terrified. It was like something was hunting him."

I shivered not from the cold, but from the laughter. It was still there, a penetrating echo.

Nadir reached under me. Finding no resistance he hefted me up. "Let's get him back to bed. I suspect he's just managed to exhaust himself. We'll have to keep a close eye on him in the morning."

My eyes cracked open. Christine followed behind, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Well, his plans have just changed for tomorrow. I won't permit him to leave the house."