Chapter Thirty-Eight: They're Here...

(Thumbs up if you get the reference.)

Three Months, Two Weeks, and Six Days, Mireval

She'd been toying around with the idea for some time now. It would be the perfect opportunity. She could just… leave. And then she would be back in Paris, safe and warm in Erik's arms, and all would be as it should be. They could get married, she would be his wife… oh, and she could finally see that wedding dress he'd been hiding! It would be the best day of her life, that was for certain. They'd be the happy newlyweds. Maybe he'd find someplace for them to take some time after their wedding before returning to their home beneath the Opera House. Or maybe he'd find them another home to move to! They could raise a family then, and actually be like a normal married couple – not like an ex-murderer and a deformed ex-Opera Ghost. They could be… well… normal.

But it wasn't that simple, was it? No, nothing about her life was ever simple.

She couldn't just leave. That would make her father roll over in his grave – if he wasn't already because she was giving away his business. He'd always dreamed that she would run it, and now that she had it, she was giving it up. Why? Because she wanted to go get married. Well, hadn't they come full circle? But this was the way things had to be. She knew where her place was, and it was at Erik's side… just not yet. She would have to wait until she had given away the business and dealt with the very public falling-out between herself and her beloved 'fiancé'. Which meant, in essence, that she was stuck here.

But that didn't mean she couldn't hope and dream of returning to Paris.

Three Months, Three Weeks, and Five Days, Mireval

Camillé looked up at the banging of the door to the house opening. She walked straight into the foyer and saw the determined look on Daniel's face. Behind him, lingering slightly as if very frightened, was a sixteen year old Marcella. A smile spread across the woman's face as she saw the girl, stepping forward. Daniel looked down at her as he sent Marcella with Maman to get some rest. Camillé couldn't help but be frightened at the blank, expressionless look on his little sister's face. He caught sight of her and followed her gaze, sighing when he saw its subject. While the servants unloaded the contents of their carriage, he pulled Camillé into the study and closed the door firmly behind them. She looked at him, concerned, as he sat the two of them down on the couch before the fireplace.

"Daniel, what is wrong?" Camillé asked, truly worried from their actions.

He sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "He's escaped, Camillé."

"What do you mean, who's escaped?" she repeated, rubbing her hand over his back slightly to comfort him.

"Rabe."

With that single word, Camillé's heart stopped. The beat of her heart ceased and she shut down. She stopped being able to breathe, to think, to speak, to exist. Her entire world came crashing down on her.

Rabe was free.

The bastard who had controlled her for years was free.

That realization made her choke and she coughed. There was something lodged in her throat and she couldn't get it out. For a moment, she vaguely registered that it was a scream. A scream of terror. Another realization hit her and the scream came closer to the surface.

He would be hell-bent on revenge.

And that revenge would be on them.

Daniel looked up at her and pulled her into his arms. "I know this is hard to hear, love," he soothingly murmured in her ear, trying to stave off the complete mental breakdown threatening behind her eyes, "I didn't know until… until I arrived home."

Camillé caught onto the shocked and pained tone in his voice and pulled back, looking into his eyes and swallowing the scream enough to speak to him. "Daniel… what happened?"

His eyes became haunted and he pulled away from her, his hands holding either side of his head as he leaned forward on his knees. "He killed them all, Camillé… all of them. They were all dead. I saw it when I walked in… I should have realized something was wrong when no one came out to greet me. It was so bloody, Camillé… so bloody. There were so many cuts… they were all so… so shredded…" Daniel's voice held all the horror a person could experience.

Camillé's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in shock. "Oh, Daniel…" She lunged forward and hugged him close. She felt him shake and registered that he was crying onto her shoulder. He may have had experiences with pirates, but the death of a pirate is nothing compared to death on such a major scale. She knew what kind of damage Rabe could do and was only beginning to imagine how terrible what Daniel saw must have been when he spoke again.

"He killed her, Camillé… he killed her."

She pulled back and lifted his head off of her shoulder to look into his face. His eyes were red-rimmed with tears and he looked broken. Camillé was taken aback for a moment. This strong man was so reduced… this was not the Daniel she knew, and the fact that this was him frightened her. He was frightening her. This was not the man she knew and loved. The man in front of her was not the strong Captain she was used to.

"Who did he kill?" she asked softly, trying not to spark another breakdown.

His face contorted, tears running down his cheek again. "He killed Aunt Fred."

Her eyes widened and she placed his head back against her chest. He had always been close to his Aunt Winifred, she was his best friend and his closest confidante. She had been the first one to see the fact that Daniel and Camillé were in love and the first to offer their congratulations when the two expressed that they were going to be married. The old woman was always a delight to be around and everyone who met her loved her on principle. To think that she was now dead at the hands of such a vile and cruel monster as Rabe was not one Camillé could bear. A tear slipped down her cheek as she tried to console Daniel.

It took a long while before either could speak coherently without breaking down. Camillé wiped the tears off of Daniel's cheeks slowly and gently with a handkerchief while he looked at her sadly. A small, broken smile graced his mouth and she smiled back, trying to appear strong for him. He placed his hand on hers as he gazed into her eyes. His fingers took the handkerchief from her and he reached forward, drying the tears from her cheeks as well. She gasped lightly, as she hadn't remembered they were there. It hadn't registered that she had cried so much with him as she tried to help him. Hesitantly, she let him help her.

His hand stilled against her cheek and the other came up to caress the side of her face softly. He gazed into her eyes before he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to hers. They stayed there for a moment before he pulled back, pulling in a shaky breath as he leaned his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Camillé," he whispered.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I love you too, Daniel."

"No," he protested with a breathy, empty laugh, "No. Don't say it. I know you don't mean it."

"But I do mean it," she told him, pulling back and lifting his face to look into his eyes, "I do love you, Daniel, and I fear I always will. But the problem remains that I am no longer in love with you."

He smiled again, sadly. "I know. I just wish we could go back… because I am still in love with you, Camillé, and I fear I always will be."

"No, you will not. I know for a fact that one day you will find a woman who loves you every bit as much as she should and you will fall madly in love with her," she told him, returning his sad smile, "You will not always be in love with me. Someday that woman will come for you and you'll forget all about me."

He shook his head. "I will not forget you, Camillé. That cannot and shall not happen. I love you far too much to forget you. Besides, I believe you have made a lasting impression on me, Mademoiselle de Sauveterre. I am more worried about you going off and marrying that fiancé of yours and forgetting me."

"That won't happen, Daniel. If you cannot forget me, then I most certainly cannot forget you. You changed my life. I would even go so far as to say that you changed it for the better," she chuckled, managing to get him to smile, "But I do mean it when I say that I love you, Daniel. You mean the world to me and I would move Heaven and Earth to see you happy."

"Do you think you could manage to fall back in love with me?"

She laughed and leaned her forehead against his. "Unfortunately, that is beyond even my vast powers."

"Damn. I was really looking forward to our wedding," he quipped, and they chuckled together again, trying to make light of this deep conversation.

"Sorry."

"Camillé?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

He took her hands in his. "If he ever hurts you, there is nothing in this world that would keep me from murdering that man."

"I know. The same applies to that woman I mentioned."

"I'll always love you."

"I fear I will always love you too."

Three Months, Three Weeks, and Six Days, Mireval

"Camillé!"

The woman in question came barreling down the stairs, her mother at her heels. Daniel stood in the middle of the foyer, his eyes wide and his face white as a ghost as he clutched a piece of paper. Camillé walked straight up to him and snatched it from his fingers, reading over the contents before dropping it in shock with a small noise of alarm. Adrienne looked down at it, picked it up, and read it over with curious eyes that quickly turned to horror.

'You're a clever girl, Chatte. You just don't know where to hide. I hope you've been practicing for me. I do so love a girl who can handle a man's weapon, and you're ever so good at it. I've missed you.

I'll be seeing you soon, Liebling (German: Darling),

Rabe

P.S. Do give the Captain and his darling little sister my best wishes.'

Camillé felt a chill run through her as she watched her mother read the letter. This letter left so many questions in the mind of someone who did not know the story. She knew that her mother would have very many of them, almost too many to answer. In a roundabout way, Rabe had just exposed her. Certainly, with the weight of having to tell her mother what had transpired after she had left this town, she would be distracted. Which meant that Rabe was coming here.

And he was coming here soon.

Later that same Day, Camillé's Bedroom, Mireval

A small, very timid knock echoed through the silent room. Camillé looked up from the book she was reading with Daniel lying his head on her lap.

"Come in!" she called, and the small shape of Marcella Merrick popped into the room.

"Am… Am I welcome?"

Camillé smiled as brightly at the girl as she could. "Of course you are, Marcella. Come here."

The girl tentatively came forward, but when her brother looked at her and smiled, her resolve seemed to become sturdier and she came to stand beside the bed. "So are you really the Camillé that I remember my brother being so fond of a few years ago?"

"Yes, Marcie, she is the very same," Daniel answered for her, and Camillé hit him on the arm.

"I can answer for myself, thank you very much. But yes, I'm the same woman."

Marcella jumped up to Camillé and hugged her tightly around the waist. "I've missed you, Camellia Flower."

"I've missed you too, Parcel," she said with a smile as she hugged the girl back.

Marcella began shaking as she sobbed into Camillé's chest. Daniel sat up and rubbed his little sister's back, his eyes filling with tears also. The shock and horror of having their aunt die was getting to the siblings. When she had composed herself, Marcella swallowed and wiped her eyes with the handkerchief that Camillé offered her.

"I just… I almost wish I hadn't gone to London for the day," she whispered.

Daniel tilted her head up and looked her in the eye. "Don't you ever say that. If you'd been at the estate that day, you would have died. I don't know what I would have done if you'd been…" he choked up and pulled his little sister to him.

Camillé let the two embrace each other for a moment. When they finally pulled apart, she smiled sadly at them both. "I just wish you both didn't have to go through this…" she muttered, and her face fell, "It's my fault in the first place –"

"No, it is not," Daniel reprimanded her quickly, "It is not your fault, Camillé."

"But it is! I'm the one who ran away from him; I'm the one who let him control me; I'm the one who trusted him too much; and I'm the one who got him imprisoned! Now tell me this isn't my fault," she challenged him.

He cleared his throat. "I'm the one who had him put behind bars, not you. You had nothing to do with his imprisonment."

"But you know me. That's the connection. The only thing I still don't understand how he could have known that you were staying here."

Marcella cleared her throat. "Your engagement is fairly common knowledge. Everyone's talking about it in London, wondering when the wedding will be."

"Well, that might tip him off, but… oh no," she breathed, as she realized how he knew.

He had tortured Aunt Winifred until she told him. That had been their fatal mistake. And now he was coming for them. And if he had sent that letter the day he left or the day before… he would be here. Soon.

A shrill scream echoed from downstairs. Camillé's eyes shot wide and she leapt from the bed, racing down the steps. When she saw what was below her, she froze. There, in the middle of the foyer, was the most horrific sight she had ever seen.

Maman was laying in the middle of the marble foyer floor. Her back leg was twisted behind her in an inhuman fashion and her arm was behind her back in a way that was not natural. Her body seemed to have been cut in a million places and her corpse was still oozing blood. Camillé nearly gagged when she saw her face. Her eyes were wide open and glassy with death. Her nose still dripped blood slowly, but not nearly as much as her mouth. Her mouth had been slashed open with a knife. The sides of her mouth reached back to her jaw and her teeth could be seen through them. The look on her face was that of a person possessed and she was completely still. Camillé fought the urge to scream and to cry. Her hands came up to her face and she gaped, unsure how to make noise anymore. Then she looked up.

He stood over Maman's body, smiling in a way she had never seen before. This was the first time she had seen him since he had been locked away. From what she saw now, it did not agree with him. He had the crazed look of a psychopathic killer, and the blood staining his clothing didn't help. The smile on his face was unnaturally wide, and it chilled Camillé to the bone. She could see the deadness in his eyes, but knew that his skills were still honed and he was dangerous – as if the house full of dead people back in England didn't prove that. He grinned suddenly as she caught his eye, widening the already crazed smile to something truly screaming of madness.

"Guten Tag, Liebling."

I'm back.

- Emmy