Chapter Fifty: Solace
-* It had been a few days since I brought the book Le Fantome de l'Opera to Erik, who had read it all within two night's time. Nothing seemed the matter with him, and, life went on, but, one day, I got struck by deja vu; Erik wouldn't let me into the latter torture chamber. "What's wrong with it, my love?" I asked, holding a gallon of pink paint and a paint brush; to brush on another coat of paint. Erik smiled to me and took both the gallon of paint and brush from my hands, standing behind me and massaging my shoulders.
"I just want you to relax, you've been working awful hard lately, and you deserve a break." He explained, I only smiled and laid my head back, onto his chest; I sighed.
"Oh, my lovely Erik, I've been taking entirely too many breaks; besides, the girls need a play room and you said yourself that it was safe in there." Said I, looking up to him, he sighed and I attempted to pull away, but, his hands became tight on my shoulders and kept me stationary. I turned my head to him, with furrowed brows. "Honey, what's the matter?"
"Don't...just...take a nap, relax. I'll even give you a massage if you so fancy it" he said with a smile; as I stared at him I saw something was off, something was wrong.
"Erik, what's-no, no who's-in that torture chamber?" Asked I, his hands still tight around my shoulders.
"No one" he replied, but, his eyes were shifty; he was lying to me!
"Erik Renoire Destler, you better tell me the truth" I growled, Erik sighed and smiled to me.
"Or what? I get my music sheets taken away?" He asked, I smiled and pinched his cheek endearingly.
"Or you're sleeping on the couch" I replied; he grinned.
"Okay" he replied, smiling. I narrowed my eyes.
"No instruments" I hissed, he turned to me.
"Okay" he answered; I paused and he smirked.
"No sex" I said and he laughed.
"I thought that was implied with the 'sleeping on the couch' threat" he answered; I sighed.
"Fine, then, no me." I said, crossing my arms and cocking my hip.
"What do you mean, 'no you'?" He asked, walking into the kitchen with me following.
"I will leave, for a month." I replied, Erik grinned, he, no doubt, thought that I was bluffing.
"Where will you live, in that time?" He asked, getting a glass of water.
"Have you forgotten of my room in the second cellar?" I growled; he nodded in remembrance, Erik had grown softer and more comical since the children arrived, and, it wasn't necessarily a good thing.
"Do whatever you want, my love, but, the last time you looked in that torture chamber without my permission was when you had nightmares for weeks about Monsieur Devere." He paused and walked over to me, regaining seriousness. "I'm trying to protect you, angel." He said, laying his arms around my waist and smiling softly; I sighed and smiled to him, laying my head on his chest.
"Why did you lie to me?" I asked, holding him close.
"Like I said before, to protect you, my love." Said he, I nodded and looked up to him; he glanced down to me.
"Don't do it again" I said and he chuckled, kissing the top of my head.
-* That night, history however, repeated itself. I snuck out of bed with the excuse of needing a refreshment to which, Erik nodded and turned over, falling back to sleep. I tip toed through the house and to the Louis-Philippe room (which was now the girls' room); up the miniature stairs I went and I flipped the switch for the gas light for the inside of the torture chamber, I pushed back the curtain and, it was even more gruesome than before!
But, this time, instead of Monsieur Devere, a man whom I loathed with all of my soul being inside, it was a man who had helped me, and yet, betrayed me.
The Persian.
His arms were tied to the iron tree's branches and the front of his body faced me; his feet were tied together with wire and blades were stuck between his toes! His trousers were ripped up to the knees and his shirt was torn open, both were covered in his own blood; he suffered multiple stab wounds to his chest, and, to my horror, when I looked closer, his nipples were cut off! A dagger was stuck through each of the Persian's hands, and, beneath the Persian's neck was a long spike, so that, if the Persian nodded off, he would impale himself. In the Persian's genital area was stuck four daggers and a gunshot wound; the scariest out of all of this? He was still alive.
His eyes of jade sparkled in the gas light as he stared at me, he was weary, he wanted to sleep; I knew it. I wouldn't let him die, no matter how angry Erik got with me, I couldn't watch another man die! I leapt down from the stairs and hurried into the torture room, making sure to keep the door open, for, all of the mirrors Erik and I took down were now back up and I wouldn't be able to tell a door from a mirror (the back of the door had a mirror on it that looked like all the others)! I ran to the Persian and took the spike that sat on his neck, off, first, then, I faced him again. "What do you want off, next?"
I asked in a whisper, fearful of Erik hearing me; the Persian only smiled and opened his mouth, at first, I saw nothing out of the ordinary, and then, then, I saw it. His tongue began sliding towards me until it fell to the floor! My hands rushed to my mouth and I looked up to the Persian again, he smiled to me again, his teeth covered in his own blood. "I'm so sorry" I whispered, touching his cheek, tears stinging my eyes; he nodded and smiled again, he motioned to his hands which I yanked the daggers from and placed them gently on the ground. He fell to the floor and I helped him sit up, laying him against the iron tree, that's when I felt a gust of cold air and the loud slam of a door closing; I whipped around to find, indeed, the door shut! I ran to the mirror I suspected to be the door and frantically searched for the button to press to open the door again!
Something terrible started happening next.
The tortures began.
Every time the torture chamber door closes, and, in a certain time slot you cannot find the door, the tortures will automatically begin; and that's just what happened. The room heated quickly, very quickly, it reached ninety degrees in under ten moments! I wanted to take off my nightgown, but, the Persian was in the room with me; so, I beat and banged on the mirrors, yelling for help for hours before remembering that Erik had made the torture chamber soundproof. I fell against a mirror and cried out, it was steaming hot! I held my burning arm and sat down before the Persian, on the floor; I remembered about the tunnel in the ceiling, but, Erik closed it up, he said we wouldn't need it any more, so, he filled it up with dirt and gravel.
Within moments I was laying on my back, staring at the ceiling of the torture chamber, feeling every droplet of sweat that left my body and sizzled on the floor. I closed my eyes and turned to the Persian whose eyes were drooping; he leaned forwards and patted my hand the best he could, making my hand all bloody. "Persian" I began, licking my cracking lips. "Persian, thank you, thank you for helping my family; thank you for helping Pierre and Erik and me and keeping us safe all you could; I just...I wish you wouldn't have let Monsieur Leroux loose with the book without Erik's permission, but, you did. Everyone makes mistakes, so...just...thank you, thank you for all you've done for us, and, I mean that sincerely."
Said I, he smiled and, slowly, pulled the top of my hand to his dry lips and planted a kiss there; dropping my hand and leaning against the iron tree. I closed my eyes and was overwhelmed with dizziness; I heard a few strange sounds, but, put it off as the Persian moving around, only when those strange sounds stopped and I felt silence thicken in the air did I open my eyes again and turn towards the Persian.
He lay beside me, eyes closed and a smile sketched upon his lips, with the spike shooting through his skull. I screamed, I screamed as the hot liquid flooded from his neck and onto the floor around me, covering my hands, knees, feet and legs in the stuff. I stood quickly and backed away from his body, my hands touching a mirror on accident and leaving bloody handprints on it; the Persian killed himself, he killed himself! Perhaps it was because he knew he was going to die, perhaps the heat got to him, perhaps he was guilty, no one will ever know; I fell to my knees and wept with the little tears I could spare for him, for, water was scarce in me then and I was really only heaving and coughing. I crawled over to the Persian and leaned over his body, and, for the first time in a long time, I prayed; I prayed over his body and prayed that he find solace wherever he went and that someone, anyone (hopefully, Erik) would open the door before the Persian's body hit the putrefaction stage that would be hurried with the intense heat.
I whimpered as I patted his cheek and finished my prayer, scooting away from his corpse afterwards and leaning my back against a mirror for a while, until it began to burn very, very badly. After this, I stood and clambered up into the iron tree, maybe, just maybe, Erik didn't fill that tunnel all the way.
(A/N)
Hey, guys! I know it's been a while, and I'm sorry, but, we put on eight shows for the Wizard of Oz, and we got a standing ovation for every single one (yay!) We were even compared to a Broadway musical! There are these awards called the 'Triangle Rising Star Awards' and we entered into them, the judges came and they absolutely loved it! Sometime next week is when we'll know if we got nominated for anything, and, if we did, we get to go to this award show (the director said it was like 'The Tony's except, for high school musicals') on June 2nd, so, wish us luck! I'm going to be getting home at normal time now (double yay!) So, I'll be attempting to update as per usual; good day to you all!
