Sacrifice for Love

Erik rode on for what seemed like an eternity as he made haste to rescue his daughter. Until at last, he came upon the abandoned moulin. Dismounting, he slowly walked into the decrepit building, as though he were going into the lion's den. The wind made a howling ghostly sound beneath the great mill. He walked in the darkness; his hand clutched the handle of his dagger. Below his feet, a large part of the creaking floorboards were so fragile as though they could crumble away in a mere second. Cautiously, he walked around the area and looked around in the darkness until a figure emerged from the shadows. Years spent in an prison had taken a toll upon Buquet. No longer did he look like the same foreboding man at the opera house. He looked crazed, unkempt and deranged in what looked like torn rags. "At last…after all these years, we meet face to face…or should I say face to mask," he sneered. He held a rusty knife in his hand.

Erik glared at him with a growing rage. "Where is she?" he said coldly.

"Well now, what makes you think she is here? Perhaps I left her cold body in a ditch?"

Furious, Erik drew his dagger and clashed it with Buquet's, who was caught slightly off guard and blocked the blade in defense.

"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" bellowed Erik.

"…Papa?"

Frantically, Erik looked around. The moonlight gently filled the room but left just enough light for him to make out a small figure. Erik's heart sank as he could see Marigold crouched on the floor. Her feet were tied to the base of the driveshaft beam. Her hands were bound by a rope as it ran up through the giant wooden gear. Her eyes were blindfolded but he could see her tears falling. Her head leaned sleepily against the beam. My God, he thought. What has he done to her? Approaching her, he knelt and caressed her face, which startled her. "Marigold?" he whispered.

She gasped at the sound of her father's voice. "Papa?" she whimpered is a small voice which made Erik's heart sting. "I'm here," he said, removing the blindfold. He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead profusely. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?" he asked. She shook her head and looked up at him with tearful eyes. "Where am I? I want to go home. I'm scared, Papa," she whimpered.

"It's all right, my sweet. Everything's going to be fine. I'm taking you home," he said, holding her close. He took out the dagger about to cut away her bonds.

Buquet held up a rope attached to a pulley. "If you value her life, you'll refrain from removing her bonds. I suggest you listen to my instructions because if you don't, I will pull this rope, the cogs will turn and that rope around her hands will pull her up until the gears crush her little fingers."

Glaring at him, Erik kept a protective hold around Marigold's shoulders.

Buquet pointed his knife to Marigold. "Now, step away from her if you don't want her harmed," he said, coldly. Reluctantly, Erik did so even though she tried in vain to be near him. He knew Buquet was past the point of reasoning, but he also knew he had to do whatever he could to ensure Marigold's safety. He kept his eyes fixed on his daughter and on Buquet. "We wouldn't want her to see you kill in cold blood, would we? She would never look at you the same again," Buquet sneered, as he knelt beside her and turned her face to look at him, causing her to gasp.

"Get away from her!" Erik growled.

"Stay where you are!" Buquet shouted. He touched Marigold's face as she shuddered in fear. "A twist of irony, isn't it? First, the mother. Now, the daughter. I would have had you in my clutches for the gendarmes and watched you hang at the gallows. But because of you, I was put in a prison! It took me five years to break out. It certainly was not easy but it took me an additional three years to finally track you down."

Erik gave a glare towards him. "You have let this thirst for revenge lead to your own downfall. My warnings and traps should have been clear that I am not to be trifled with. Yet your curiosity paled in comparison to your stupidity. All I merely wanted was to be left alone, but your idle prattle had led many to make a phantom out of me. I would have killed any who dared to threaten me, but someone taught me a great deal about the value of one's own humanity. Something that you know nothing of! Your desire to hurt the ones I love, just to get to me, makes me question why I shouldn't just end you now. By rights, I should have killed you for what you tried to do to Christine! But, I swear, if you so much as put one scratch on my daughter, then it truly will be the last thing you ever do!" seethed Erik.

Buquet simply laughed. "Your daughter! That's an ironic twist of nature! How on Earth was it even possible for you to father a child when she has the face of an angel? Especially considering your face. I wonder…if she has ever even seen your real face." He grasped Marigold's head sharply, causing her to whimper in fright, and made her keep her gaze on Erik. "Remove your mask and show her your face," he said.

"Take your wretched hands off her or I'll-" shouted Erik.

Buquet held his knife to her throat. "Do it or she dies!" he snarled. Marigold began gasping and weeping, "Papa…help me." Erik's heart froze at the sight of her frightened face. Marigold looked up at him with frightened eyes. Unwilling to let his daughter be killed, Erik held back tears as his trembling hands reached up to unclasp the straps on his mask. His eyes were fixed on hers, fearing her reaction. His pulse raced as he slowly lowered the mask from his face and then, for the first time, she saw the horrific sight.

Erik's heart ripped in pieces as she let out a piercing scream. Haunted with the memory of the first time Christine saw his face along with the agonizing sound of his daughter's scream, Erik felt a worse pain than he ever felt before. The terrified look on her face made him fall to his knees and cover his face with his hands as he let out a guttural sob. He felt shattered and broken, as he watched his frightened child sobbing hysterically.

"Go on, child! Look at the monster that you call father! Reach out for her, monster! Comfort your frightened daughter!" Buquet laughed as he let go of Marigold and walked to the side. Erik sadly reached out to her, but she tried to crawl away despite still being bound to the beam. Erik timidly crawled towards her as she tried to crawl further away. She looked at him with tearful eyes full of fear. Fear and shock had completely taken over her that she had forgotten it was her beloved father. She continued to sob frightfully as he knelt near her. She tried to hide herself behind the beam with only her eyes looking at Erik. His tearful eyes were fixed on hers as he tried to reach out to her.

"Please, my Mari. It's all right. It's me, your Papa," pleaded Erik, his voice breaking. Suddenly, after hearing his voice, Marigold fainted to the floor in shock. Erik scrambled to her side and quickly looked upon her unconscious form. Gently, he held her close as his tears fell upon her face as he caressed her cheek. He was relieved to see her seemingly unharmed but distressed to see her in such a state as he gently set her down on the floor. Slowly, he rose to his feet and pulled out his dagger, turning to face Buquet as he slowly walked towards him. "You….YOU!" he growled. "First, my wife…now my daughter! You once said you would find me if it was the last thing you will ever do! Well, allow me to seal your fate tonight!"

In a fury, Buquet gave a sharp tug at the rope. Erik ran to his daughter's side as the rope slowly began to pull her wrists up. Like a flash, he took his dagger and slashed the rope in half. He caught her unconscious form before it could hit the floor and gently lowered her the floor.

With stealth and precision, he quickly dodged any attempts Buquet made toward him as he lunged for Erik with the knife. With a swift turn, Erik slashed at Buquet's leg. Yelling in pain, he lunged again at Erik, causing him to fall backwards over broken wood. The floor creaked even louder underneath Erik as he tried to steer clear of the rotting floor. Buquet limped over Marigold as she lay helplessly. Soon, before Erik could process it, Buquet grabbed his knife and held it over Marigold, ready to strike.

"NOOO!" Erik screamed as he tried to run toward her. But before he could stop him, the sound of a gunshot rang through as a bullet grazed past Buquet's hand. He screamed an unearthly cry of pain and dropped the knife to the floor. Both he and Erik turned to see two figures standing in the doorway. Rahim and Christine arrived. She clutched Rahim's rifle in her hands as she aimed at Buquet. Her face was steely and enraged, like a lioness protecting her cub. Something even Erik had never seen in her before.

"If you harm my daughter, I will shoot again," she warned.

In a fit of madness, Buquet charged at Christine with the knife, but the darkness made it difficult for him to notice the rotting floorboards. Before he could get any closer to Christine, the floor finally gave out under his weight and he fell through the floor and landed on the cellar floor with a sickening thud.

The three of them looked down below and saw Buquet's body laying lifeless on the floor of the dark cellar, with a slow stream of blood seeping underneath him. As Rahim went to find the cellar stairs to examine the body, Christine ran to Marigold's side. She gathered her daughter in her arms and held her tightly, weeping. Erik silently walked over to her, knelt and engulfed both his wife and child in his arms. "Is she hurt, Erik?" Christine asked. They both gazed down on their unconscious daughter.

"No, Christine, I don't think so. She's just in shock. She fainted after she…saw my face," he said, sullenly. "Buquet was going to kill her if I didn't show her my face. Her scream…the look she gave…when she saw me." Carefully, he removed her bonds around her wrists and ankles.

"You did it to save her life, Erik," said Christine. Erik stood and picked up his mask, silently putting it back on. He removed his jacket, wrapped it around Marigold and carefully lifted her in his arms, with Christine looking down on her and stroking her hair.

Rahim emerged from the cellar stairs. "He's dead. He fell on his own knife. I will take contact the coroner to come to collect the body and report it to the prison. That should be enough for the authorities. Take the child home," said Rahim. Erik and Christine silently walked outside, carrying Marigold. As Christine mounted Artemis, Erik lifted Marigold up and settled her in front of Christine. When he mounted Caesar, they both made the journey back home. Erik rode just a little behind Christine, watching as she held Marigold.

As they reached their home, they entered the house silently as Christine walked upstairs, holding Marigold, and went to her room. Kit trotted just behind Christine. Carefully, she removed her dress and gently slipped on a nightgown, taking great care not to disturb her. As Christine set her down on the bed, she draped Erik's jacket over her and she took a cloth and dipped into a jug of water, gently dabbing her forehead. Marigold slowly came to and weakly whispered, "Mama."

"It's all right, Marigold. Mother's here. You're safe now. That man won't hurt you ever again. Papa is so worried about you."

"Papa…he scared me," she shivered in a small frightened voice.

"He didn't mean to, dear. He only showed his face to save your life. If he didn't, that man would have harmed you. Your father cannot help the way his face looks. He was born like that, dear. And he lived a very hard life because of it. He didn't want you to see because he didn't want to be afraid of him. But you must understand, he is kind and loving. It doesn't matter what he looks like on the outside. What's on the inside is what truly matters. Your father loves you with all his heart. He would never wish to hurt you. Remember that. He loves you very much and so do I. Now, close your eyes. Kit is here so she'll keep you company. Try to rest."

Marigold closed her eyes and quickly dozed off to sleep. Kit took her place at the foot of the bed. Christine quietly left the room. As she entered the living room, Erik sat in his chair with his mask in his lap and his hand rubbing his forehead, looking despondent. When he heard Christine approach him, he stood up. "Is she all right?" he asked, gravely.

"She woke up for a moment. I did speak with her. I think she'll be all right but she's still very shaken. She's asleep now."

Erik looked so forlorn that Christine gently touched his unmasked face. He leaned against her hand and gazed at her so sadly, that it broke her heart to see him like this. Then a tear trickled from his eye and slowly trickled down his cheek. Tenderly, she wiped it away with her thumb.

"My own daughter is frightened of me. I just won't ever be able to forget the fear in her eyes. It reminded too much of how you looked when you saw me. Why does this hurt so much?" Erik whispered brokenly before he choked back a sob. "Christine…w-why?"

His knees gave way as he sank into his armchair, covering his face in his hands as he wept softly. Christine knelt down in front of him and nestled herself between his knees. Resting her arms in his lap, she looked up at him and gently touched his face to look at down at hers.

"Please, don't think such things, Erik." Christine said in a soothing voice. "You mustn't hold this against Marigold. For my part, it was my own fault of forcing the mask off you and you know how sorry I am for that. But you know that Marigold was not at fault. Buquet forced you to reveal your face and he forced her to see. And she is only a child. She doesn't fully understand yet. And she was frightened…when I think about how frightened our poor little girl was…and how I might have lost her…and you as well."

Soon, Christine was also brought to tears at the thought of nearly losing them both that she buried her face into Erik's lap, sobbing. Then, Erik forgot about his own sorrows and caressed Christine's hair. Then, he lifted her head up and pulled her into a close embrace as she nestled her face into his chest.

"Oh, my angel…" he sighed as he watched her cry. "I know how worried you must have been. You have so much more of a mother's love than my own mother ever did. The way you looked at him when you held that gun before he tried to kill her. I've never seen you like that."

"A true mother would have done anything to protect her child. I would have done whatever I had to in order to protect her," she said.

"And a true mother you most certainly are, Christine," he said proudly. Then he looked down sadly. "I know she is not at fault. I'm in no way angry at her. I just dread that now she may fear me. I couldn't live with myself if she did."

Christine dried her tears and looked up at Erik. "But do you remember how comforting you were to me after I had seen your face? The way you assured me that you truly are a kind and loving man. Well, that is what Marigold needs to know now too. She needs the warm and loving comfort of her father's arms."

"I know you're right, Christine. The last thing I want is for her feel afraid and alone. If you were able to look past fear and find love, then I'm sure she can too."

Christine embraced him warmly. "I know she can, Erik. She loves you dearly and so do I."

"I love her, too," he said softly. "And I love you as well, my darling." He kissed her gently and held her close for a while. He stood up, along with Christine and kissed her forehead. "I'll be back down. I just want to check on her for a moment." He slowly walked upstairs and into Marigold's room. Her night lamp cast an amber glow in the room. Quietly, he walked towards her bed. Kit looked up sadly at Erik, who gave her a little scratch behind the ears to reassure that all was well. He sat at her bedside and very gently touched her tear stained cheek. Tears filled his eyes. Quietly, he tried to stifle a sad moan on top of choking back a sob.

Part of him wanted to wake her up, beg her forgiveness and comfort her, but he resisted after remembering the fear she had when she saw him. He couldn't bear to see her frightened eyes again. "Oh, my poor little Mari...I'm so sorry," he brokenly whispered to her sleeping form. Tears falling, he gently kissed her cheek and quietly left the room.

Marigold briefly opened her eyes and looked at the closed door. She could hear him gently sobbing as he stood on the other side. She touched where he left his kiss on her cheek and she felt his jacket tucked around her. She hugged the jacket tightly and breathed in his familiar scent. "Oh, Papa…" she thought sadly before laying back down to sleep.