Bittersweet Chapter 26: 4 O'Clock
Ok, the beginning of this chapter describes an assault. It isn't pretty, nor it ever will be but it is necessary for the story. If it offends you, don't read.
Celia's PoV
"Do you really think you could get rid of me that easily?" my captor grunts and I gasp as I recognize his voice.
It's Claude Malhome, the backdrop painter I fired today because of his appalling behavior!
For a few moments I stand still, frozen in my shock, before biting in the hand he uses to cover my mouth. He curses and lets go, a moment I use to push him away and run while screaming. I don't even know what I scream in my panic, as long as it attracts attention from someone, anyone, who could help me get away from him in my own opera house. Maybe screaming 'fire' helps, I wonder in my dazed mind. After all, a large part of this opera house is made from wood.
I should have known he easily catches me. With his bulky, nearly 6 ft frame I'm no match for him.
He pushes me against the wall and suddenly I feel a blinding pain in my legs. He has cut them to make sure I don't flee again. My mind tells me I'm trapped and unless someone pulls him off of me, I'm left at his mercy. My need for survival is stronger though and temporarily ignoring the pain, I try to knee him in the groin. I fail and with horror I notice the alcohol on his breath and how he reaches to his waist to undo his pants.
"You're lucky I even pay attention to you, you harlot. Do you really think any man would want you? Some stupid cow who thinks she can rule the world? It's time for you to remember your place in the kitchen , you crazy whore! And you think you can fire me? Who did you fuck to get this job anyway? You must be a good fuck, or else they would never let a woman make decisions. Now, be a good little trollop for me as well!"
With my final strength I try to push him away. That's when he suddenly is pulled off of me and I notice there's a lasso around his neck. With noting to support my weight anymore, I fall but before I hit the floor, dark-skinned hands catch me.
Erik's PoV
It's 4 o'clock at night and as usual, I cannot sleep. After realizing I also have a composer writing block, I decide to take a walk through the deserted halls of the opera house with Nadir, who's guarding the floors.
Just when Nadir and I start to take our walk, I hear a muffled scream, barely noticeable for anyone except for those wide awake, like Nadir and I .
When we run in the general direction of wherever the noise came from, the screams get louder and my blood freezes in my veins when I realize I recognize the voice.
My shock turns into fury when I realize Malherbe is attempting to rape Celia and I don't even hear Nadir gasp as we look at the sight in front of us.
Then, I see the fear and disgust in Celia's eyes and I want to torture Malherbe in many ways before killing him for even daring to put his filthy paws on Celia. How dare he!
I grab my lasso and pull him off of Celia before Nadir catches her. Malherbe looks at me in fright and I want to strangle him as painful as possible. That's when I look at Celia. She's scared to death and I suddenly remember how Christine turned to Raoul after I had killed Buquet. I realize that no matter what Malherbe has done, Celia would never approve of murder right in front of her face. The idea of losing Celia like I had lost Christine cuts like a cold knife through my haze of bloodlust.
"You're lucky I don't kill in front of a lady," I say with as much venom as possible, before rendering Malherbe unconscious and dropping him on the floor.
Celia's PoV
When monsieur Khan asks me if I'm alright, I manage to get out of my state of shock a little to answer him.
"You need to stop the blood," the Persian man commands before cutting a piece of cloth of my nightgown to use as a temporarily makeshift bandage.
"Thank you so much, if you and Erik hadn't come….," I don't want to think about how my night would have ended without my two saviors.
Erik drops Malherbe with a loud thud on the ground.
"Is he dead?''
"Unconscious," his normally musical voice sounds uncharacteristically toneless.
When he walks over to me, I suddenly notice the look in his eyes. The fury from earlier has been replaced with worry, concern, sadness and love and it makes me stumble to him. He catches me before I fall over and I hold him tight before breaking down and crying. He sighs sadly before softly stroking my back and singing words of comfort in my ear, making me calm down. In the meantime, monsieur Khan has used Erik's now forgotten Punjab lasso to tie Malherbe's hands and feet.
"What's going on here?"
Meg is standing a few feet away and in an almost detached way I realize how strange this all must look to Meg: the elderly foreign man who shows his years of training as Daroga by keeping an eye on a still unconscious Malherbe, while I cling the to the phantom of the opera for dear life.
I gently let go of Erik before wobbling over to Meg, who manages to catch me before I fall, while Erik offers me a chair.
"Oh Meg, Malherbe tried to….tried to…." It was obviously too early to finish that sentence without stuttering but after seeing Meg's look of horrified realization, it was obvious I didn't need to.
"Erik and monsieur Khan pulled him off of me in time."
"Oh my goodness, that's terrible! Anything I can do to help?"
I looked at my attacker.
"Well, somebody has to bring him to the police and make sure he doesn't escape along the way."
"I will do that," monsieur Khan offers. "Maybe Antoinette and her walking stick can come along." If I weren't still shaking from shock, I might have laughed at how infamous Antoinette's beloved piece of wood has become.
"Good idea, Meg, please wake your mother."
"Not necessary. You know, if I had a clue about what on Earth is going on here, I might point out how lucky you are it's me who's wandering around instead of the managers. Erik, you're lucky nobody else saw you." We turn around to see the ballet mistress standing there with a worried look on her face.
After explaining the situation to Antoinette, she and Khan leave to bring Malherbe to the police, leaving Meg, Erik and I alone. Erik takes a look at the cloth on my legs.
"The bleeding has stopped but I doubt you can walk back to your room." It isn't a question.
"I highly doubt I can walk up those stairs, yes."
"Here's my idea: I'll carry you to your room, where Meg keeps you company while I grab my medical box in my lair. I have acquired some medical knowledge over the years and will treat your wounds. Is that alright with you?"
"It's ok Erik, I trust your judgment."
Erik gives me a soft smile and I know he's truly touched by the fact that I trust him, before picking me up and carrying me bridal style to my room, while Meg follows us.