Thank you for the favorites and follows.
Big chapter ahead.
I've only read parts of The Phantom of Manhattan novelization. I slightly changed some things for Darius's backstory, characterization, and made them my own.
Another character who was mentioned last chapter also makes an appearance.
* This is a friendly reminder this story is rated T for Teen for language, violence, and even smoking. *
Chapter Nine
Nightfall
Pulse racing, Erik calmly stated, "Darius..."
"Afternoon, Master," Darius said with an incline of his head and a twisted look across his face.
Erik reached out, "Release him. Now." He added a firm edge to his voice.
"I had to get your attention somehow."
Erik blinked several times.
Darius had always been bold, but this...this crossed so many different lines.
Erik pressed his lips together. He had to think. He had to stay calm. Think. "You have my undivided attention." He had to approach this like a difficult investor or banker. Only this had more dire consequences if he failed. "Let—"
Darius cut in, he didn't seem to be listening. "Originally, I was going to grab your lover, but there's never been a good time and whenever she's here, you're always—"
"ENOUGH!" Erik spat. He breathed heavily, feeling his control slipping.
He supposed he was trying to humiliate and provoke him. Just as Erik had done yesterday when he had Darius thrown out.
Darius smirked. Yes, he was looking to see how far he could take this. "Playing her like a musical instrument. The babe would have been too much of an inconvenience." He said with distaste.
Eyes widened, blood racing, it took every ounce of Erik's self control to not fly into a rage. "HOW DARE—" He tried to control his breathing. Again, he needed to think. Most importantly, he had to get Gustave away from...him.
Darius's brown almost black eyes then shifted down to study Gustave. "But the boy...the boy I had never even considered," Darius ran his fingers through Gustave's hair then lowered his head to smell his hair.
Erik clenched his jaw. His fingers twitched and suddenly longed for the feeling of a strong, thick cord of rope or wire.
Oh, it would be easy...
Promises be damned!
Gustave shuttered as he tried to pull away. "...let me go." He quietly pleaded.
"There, there, little one. This will all be over soon." Darius whispered softly. Was he trying to comfort him? "This is nothing personal." He was merely a means to an end. Darius looked back up Erik. "I'm after a much bigger fish."
Erik stood frozen.
"Beautiful boy," Darius looked down at Gustave and back up at Erik. "I must admit," He nearly laughed. "I never even suspected," He shook his head in bewilderment. "Not until last night, looks like my gamble was correct." Darius almost laughed as he continued to shake his head. "I never would have even guessed."
Erik silently cursed, "So you were here last night."
Darius gave a nod of sorts.
Damn it, Erik had wondered, but then he had discovered Gustave instead. He took three steps forward, "Now let him go."
Darius held Gustave closer who whimpered.
"Ah-ah! First things first, we need to talk. I did not get the chance to speak before I was so rudely expelled and humiliated yesterday morning."
Once more, Erik could feel his temper rising.
That's all Darius had ever done was talk. That's all he ever did.
"You were warned," Erik said darkly.
He suspected Darius had finally gotten in over his head. He was desperate and he got sloppy. Too many bad gambling streaks or something to that effect.
"I told you! Told you I was simply borrowing..."
Erik clenched his jaw as he stopped listening. He had no need to hear the man's pitiful excuses, again.
"...and as for those resold tickets, it was just a little side gig. No harm, no foul. I've stopped, I swear it won't happen again." He sounded like he was almost pleading.
"That's not how this works."
Anger and frustration returned to Darius's face. "Oh, you've gotten so boring since you opened up your park—when it became profitable I should say."
Erik needed a lot of extra cash during Phantasma's planning and infancy. Darius had always been useful in that regard. Like Erik, he understood blackmail, gambling, and other schemes. Along with assistance from the Girys, that was how Erik made enough money to buy his first side show. The banks had wanted nothing to do with penniless foreigners like the Girys, their lack of collateral, and certainly not a masked man. Over the next few years, they had enough for more side shows, the concert hall, employees, collateral, loans, and soon it became Phantasma.
Erik had enjoyed those times. He had even for the briefest of times almost considered Darius something of a rare specimen, a friend.
Both men arrived in America around the same time. Though Darius arrived perhaps a few days or weeks after Erik. They both later worked for the same side show. Though Erik later understood it was not by mere coincidence.
Darius had worked as a cleaner while Erik worked as a masked clown and handyman. The mask, makeup, and costume served as Erik's passport into daylight. Sometimes people would even smile and wave at him. It was all so strange and surreal.
Though Erik never actually spoke to the strange, but familiar looking man until that one dark fateful night. Dressed in his ridiculous clown garb, he was walking home from work and passed an alley when two thugs were trying to intimidate and rob Darius.
Initially, Erik shrugged it off, it was none of his business. Perhaps the man had even deserved it. He kept walking.
"Freak!" One of the men pushed Darius against the wall.
Erik stopped and scowled. Oh, how he hated that word. He walked into the alley and quickly scared the thugs off. It was not hard. Erik turned to leave, but Darius had called out after him.
"I don't say this often, but thanks! Care for a drink?"
Against his better judgment, Erik reluctantly accepted the offer. It was not every day he received such an offer.
Darius showed him around a seedy area of Hell's Kitchen. Eventually they wound up in a bar with exotic dancers.
While there, he even introduced him to a couple of associates, two of them presently worked at Phantasma. One of them was the bar man working that night. He was a man called Gillian who had dropped out of medical school. Currently he was better known by his stage name, Dr. Gangle, Master of Ceremony.
A cigarette between his fingers, Darius stared up at the scandalously dressed women with fascination. After awhile, he noticed Erik's lack thereof. "Is this not your thing?" He blew smoke rings in the smoke filled room. "You play for the other team?"
It took a moment, but Erik understood what he was saying. "No...no, I left my heart in Paris." Fearing he had said too much, he pursed his lips together.
Darius seemed to understand.
They were both outcasts who lived in the shadows, rejected by the rest of the world for their "appearances and past deeds," according to Darius. While Erik would hardly call Darius handsome or tall, at least he had all his features. Erik envied him and most people for that. Which left him to wonder if he had been spurned by a lover? Though they longed for success and wealth in their new, strange country. As for his past deeds, while he never said it, Erik would not put murder out of Darius's nature. Though he certainly could not judge Darius on that front.
Whatever it was, they both longed for second chances and success in America, the land of opportunity.
They worked well together and were triumphant in their quest.
Using their combined knowledge they invested in stocks, bonds, and other information to make money. More money than Erik had ever dreamed of making. He soon had no need of blackmail and only gambled for occasional amusement.
All seemed to be going well until Erik learned of Darius's treachery.
It was after another successful winning streak, Erik had checked over the books and one of the numbers did not quite add up. Upon further investigation, he understood what Darius had done. While he was angry, at the same time, he was impressed. If Erik had not been so thorough, Darius might have gotten away with it.
He might have been able to look past it. He had given second chances...on occasion.
There were many sins and betrayals Erik would never be able to forgive. The woman who bore him, but would not even look at him. The gypsies and side show performers who had mocked him then locked him away. The Shah who had ordered his death despite building him a magnificent piece of work.
And yet in the last twelve years, Erik had long forgiven Christine for removing his mask when he first took her to his underground lair, her horrified reaction, and for ripping it off during Don Juan Triumphant. In the last two years, he had learned to completely trust her with his face. He believed and hoped she had learned to trust him in return. Erik had also looked past Madame Giry's past treachery. Namely when she told Raoul about his past and later when she led the boy right to his doorstep on that fateful night. Granted, he initially had no choice, since she was his ticket out of France all those years ago, but over the years he had gotten past it.
Erik had also stolen many times in his life. Much of it was out of desperation and sometimes it was for mere pleasure. Stealing was one thing, but there was another betrayal besides the theft.
While investigating the matter, Erik learned that Darius served Daroga. That was why he seemed so familiar. Darius had clearly been sent to America by his former employer and their mutual acquaintance to spy on him.
Something he had failed to mention.
After that Erik kept Darius at a distance. Though he still met with him occasionally to discuss gambling, stocks, other investments and information. Darius was still a useful asset. One he was not ready to part with, also it gave Erik the chance to keep an eye on him and Daroga. Though until yesterday, Darius had never given him another reason to doubt him.
Darius went on talking, pulling Erik back from his thoughts.
"Even more boring since she came back into your life."
This was going nowhere. They needed to come to the point. Erik knew what he wanted. "How much do you want?" He tried not to sound too desperate.
Darius considered this for a long time. He briefly looked down at Gustave then back up. Finally, he met Erik's gaze. "How much is he worth to you?"
Erik paused.
How could one put a price on their child's life?
Erik would give everything he possessed, everything he owned, his wealth, his properties, and his kingdom for Gustave's life. He supposed he probably should not mention that to Darius. Erik tried to think about how much money he had in the safe under the floorboards. At least $10,000, maybe up to $14,000? He could not be sure. He always kept a stash hidden in case of an emergency, though this was not the emergency he had in mind. If that did not satisfy Darius, he could get more, but that would take time. Erik was uncertain if Darius had the patience.
"I have—"
Knock! Knock!
"Master? Hello, anyone?" A blonde head peaked in behind the conference room door.
Erik rarely spoke with God, unless he was cursing him. However, on this rare occasion, he silently thanked him.
She was the one person who could get past her mother. "Master, I'm sorry to interrupt, but you've got to come backstage." The door opened further, revealing Meg Giry. She was wearing a long robe that covered up one of her revealing costumes. "Four of the stagehands are—" A frustrated Meg switched on the lights and her jaw dropped as she stopped dead in her tracks.
Meg's eyes went from Mr. Y, Gustave, Darius, and back again.
"Meg, GO!" Erik yelled. He did not want her involved. He quickly looked back at her, "FetchYourMother! Tell her to gather all the cash I have hidden. GO!" He snapped. "Go. NOW!"
Frightened, Meg backed away and disappeared. They could all hear her footsteps as she ran.
A few moments passed and Darius smiled, he had always been fond of the Bathing Beauty act, "It's a start." Though his confidence seemed to have slipped a notch.
Erik saw a potential opening. "Darius, you don't have to do this." Could he reason with him? "It's not too late," He said as gently as possible. He was not certain if he was telling the truth, he would decide later. It all depended on how quickly Darius released Gustave, unharmed.
Darius seemed puzzled as he shook his head. "No," He seemed to wrestle with his emotions. "No...I want compensation!" He almost yelled. "And even..." His voice cracked. "Even if I let him go, your lasso will find me," He quietly muttered.
Erik considered this, "Years ago...without second thought." Nor would that be an entirely bad idea. He had pulled a gun on Gustave and threatened Christine and Isabel. Such things could not go unchecked.
Even still, he was no longer that man—O.G., the Opera Ghost, the Trap-Door Lover, or the Phantom of the Opera. He was the Master, Erik, or Mr. Y—the mysterious owner of Phantasma. "But someone has given me a second chance despite my many wrongdoings. It's not too late."
Gustave had not been harmed. If no one else had been harmed, he could consider this. Granted, Darius would have to leave town, the continent really, but this was possible.
"Darius..." Erik held out a hand. "Darius, give me the boy, and I will let you walk out of here. You must leave the continent." He warned. "For old times sake, you can have the money." So he could make a fresh start. "No tricks, no strings attached. No harm will come to you." Erik realized he meant it. At the moment, he did not care about the money or evening the score.
Darius took a step back, nearly causing Gustave to lose his footing.
He still did not believe him. He needed reassurances.
Erik then thought of another solution. "What if I take Gustave's place?" Yes, he could see this working. He was the one Darius wanted. "And I personally escort you out of the park and into a cab? Just the two of us, no one need follow us." It was risky, but one he was willing to take.
Dumfounded, Darius considered this for several moments. Had he finally rendered him speechless?
Erik watched the gears turn in his head.
"I...accept this offer," Darius clumsily responded.
Several long minutes passed, then Erik heard the familiar clicking and clacking of footsteps outside the slightly opened door.
Erik recognized those heels without turning. "Madame Giry," He greeted her without looking.
Madame Giry slowly approached Erik's side with a brown suitcase in her small fingers. "Master," She whispered in French, her eyes remained on Darius. Her eyes then returned to Erik. "I have the money." She said quietly and without emotion. "Fifteen here, seven by nightfall."
"Hey! Hey!" Darius did not like their whispering. "No funny business." Though he seemed to have no understanding of their words.
While Erik gave Giry small nod in understanding. "Madame Giry was just saying that she brought $15,000, all in cash." He explained as he quietly considered the rest of her words.
Darius seemed pleased with the news.
Erik accepted the small brown suitcase.
Darius watched them very carefully.
While Erik nodded at Giry in recognition and satisfaction. She had acted swiftly and just in time. He looked at her briefly, "This is all just a little misunderstanding with our longtime friend and associate." He looked back at Darius.
Giry did not blink. Though her frown grew, she had never trusted Darius. Though there were few people she truly trusted. Erik doubted she completely trusted him either.
Erik gestured in his direction. "Darius and I have a little catching up to do. As soon as he frees Gustave, I will personally escort Darius out of the park, alone." He added with heavy emphasis.
Darius seemed pleased by the agreement.
While Madame Giry's eyes went wide. Erik knew she would not like this. Though whether it was because she truly cared about him or she was merely afraid of losing her position, he did not know. He could never be sure with Madame Giry. Her cunning nature was something had long admired and always considered very useful. Especially in the last decade when they began building Phantasma.
"Everything will be fine," Erik quietly tried to reassure his longtime associate. Though he was not naive. Erik sensed Darius would try something before they even made it out of the park. Maybe even before they crossed the threshold of the building.
Erik had no intention of dying. Years ago, he would have welcomed the sweet release of death. Now he simply had too many things to accomplish. Erik had so many plans in development for Phantasma, the concert hall, unfinished melodies, scores, and other works to create.
Foremost amongst his plans, Christine. Erik planned to spend many more long and glorious years listening to her sing and making music together. Once she was ready, he planned to make her his true and proper wife at long last. After they wed, he secretly hoped they might create another child together.
It was funny, Erik never imagined having a family—children. He remembered his youth and watching some of the sideshow performers and gypsies with their young offspring. He had rarely interacted with them, he either stayed with the animals or as he grew older, he was a sideshow attraction. From what he recalled, the younger children were noisy little nuisances that seemed to cry all the time. Especially when he was in proximity of them. As they grew older, the children became just as vile and cruel as their parents.
"Devil-child!"
"Freak!"
For a long time, Erik had no desire for a family. Why would he want to create another being to torment him? He also understood no woman would wish to bear his offspring, so he never gave the matter a second thought. His attitude towards them had begun to soften after the discovery of Gustave then more after Isabel's birth. She was so beautiful, innocent, easily pleased, and tranquil. Erik loved the way she looked at him as he sang or hung flowers above her crib. He never had anyone look at him that way before. The way she smiled like sunshine. Oh, how he wished he had known Gustave at that age, everything might have been different.
From a distance, Erik planned to watch their young grow up happy, healthy, and safe. He could not be the father they deserved. He could not even give them a name. Instead Erik would give them the world. He would continue working hard and put money into various trusts for their descendants. He wanted them to make music, to sing, to dance, act, go to university, or do whatever their hearts desired.
However, in the event he perished, Erik was prepared. Madame Giry would be more than satisfied, her many years of service rewarded. She and her daughter would live comfortably. Several of his loyal, longtime performers and workers would also receive small, but generous sums. Most importantly, Christine and the children would live like royalty.
Erik turned his attention from Giry to Darius, "All you have to do is let the boy go."
Madame Giry silently stood there.
Darius shook his head, "Money first. Open it. Open it!" He snapped.
Erik sat the suitcase down on the table and opened it. He tilted it so Darius could see the cash inside. New and old bundles of cash stacked semi-neatly. Madame Giry had done well.
"Alright," Darius nodded eagerly, "Alright, close it. Close it." He sounded more relaxed and reassured.
Erik frowned, he did not like being ordered around like a servant. He supposed it was because he was used to giving the orders. Erik snapped the suitcase closed and picked it up. "Are we in accordance?"
The ball was now in his court.
Everyone seemed to hold their breath.
Darius stood still then nodded as he pointed the gun from Gustave to Erik.
Erik took a step forward. They were less than three feet apart.
Darius gestured with an outstretched hand. "Well?"
Erik's eyes narrowed in on Darius's hand which was still clutching Gustave's collar. Realizing he was still grasping the boy's jacket, Darius slowly released the boy, who did not move.
Reluctantly, Erik held out the suitcase.
Darius smiled, licking his lips as he gleefully accepted the suitcase.
Gustave seemed unsure what to do. He opened his mouth to speak, but just swallowed.
"It's okay," Erik tried to smile at him. "Come here," It was barely a whisper.
Gustave nodded shakily as he slowly moved in Erik's direction.
Erik reached and touched the back of Gustave's head, pulling him close, mere inches away from him.
Standing in front of his right side, Gustave grasped at his cape.
"Go to Madame Giry." Erik said gently as he tried to nudge the boy in her direction. "Your mother will be here shortly."
Tears began falling down Gustave's face, "Don't..."
Erik did his best to hold it together, he could not bear to see Gustave upset. He had unintentionally done it once before and vowed to never do that again. "Shhhhh, I'll be right behind you." Erik used the same soft tone of voice he used when he sang to Isabel. "We shall continue our earlier conversation later, I promise," Erik whispered. He would tell him. He would even teach him how to play the organ, if he wished. "No backward glances, go on." He tried to sound firm, but calm.
"I'm waiting," Darius huffed with impatience.
More tears streamed down Gustave's face.
Without looking, Erik whispered calmly, "Go." He wanted to look at Gustave, but kept his eyes on Darius and the weapon. In case the man changed his mind.
"Gustave..." Madame Giry gently called out. "Come here child."
Out of the corner of his eye, Erik saw Gustave walk in her direction and take her hand. He heard them shut the door as they left the room.
Satisfied that Gustave was free and they were finally alone, Erik quietly sighed in relief. For a moment, he felt as if everything would be alright.
"Did you really think I would harm him?" Darius smiled sadistically for a moment. "I'm not the monster here."
Erik clenched his jaw. He had to stay calm, just a little longer. He was only trying to rattle him.
Erik watched him accept the suitcase. He waited and asked, "Are you ready?" They could begin their descent down on the hallway, they could use one of the side doors so they wouldn't go through the main area where many of the people worked. Though they may have already been evacuated.
Frowning, Darius looked very dissatisfied at the suitcase in his hand. "You know...this will not do. I want more." He tilted his head and held the gun higher. "You are worth far more than the bastard." Then he frowned again.
His words came as no surprise to Erik. "It will take time."
"I'm not going anywhere," Darius replied.
Erik held up both hands. "I must call Madame Giry back into the room."
"Yes," Darius nodded and waved his free hand. "Yes, fine." He said impatiently. "I assume she's still out there with a small army, plotting your rescue."
"I said no tricks." Though at the back of Erik's mind, if he wanted out of this alive, he knew what he would have to do. Though what trick could he use? There was a secret back entrance, but that was likely how Darius had snuck in. There were no trap doors in here. He should really do something about that. He had some powder for smoke, but none would serve in his current predicament.
What else did he have?
His cape...
His voice...
His voice!
"Oh, please! You're the Prince of Conjurors."
Erik nearly smiled. He took that as a compliment. Perhaps he should use that title at some point in the future. "You will not be harmed." At this rate, he was making that promise very difficult to ensure.
Darius angled his head and the gun. "Do you really expect me to believe that?"
Erik thought carefully, "If anyone else is out there, they are just there to make certain everything is agreeable."
Darius exhaled and briefly glanced over his shoulder. "Go on, summon the bitch."
Erik scowled at the last remark.
"But if anyone else walks in..." Darius warned.
"No one will," Erik said reassuringly. "Madame Giry," He called out again with no emotion.
A moment or two later, Erik heard Giry's faint footsteps outside the doorway.
The door opened.
It was very quiet.
Too quiet.
He wondered if they were out there with her or if they were...elsewhere.
"Master?" Madame Giry said from a distance.
Erik held up a hand for Giry's silence as he exhaled, "How much?" He asked Darius.
"$25,000," Darius replied quickly. He obviously already had a number in mind. That would bring his total to $40,000.
Erik remained motionless.
He could almost hear Giry's silent, simmering fury.
Erik slightly turned his head to the side. "Call the bank," He said almost coldly.
"Ma—" Madame Giry was about to protest.
He knew what she was thinking. They had some emergency funds set aside. However, they would be stretched very thin or possibly completely overdrawn. At the moment, Erik did not care. If nothing else, he simply wanted her to leave.
"Call. Them." Erik ordered, without giving her further chance to respond.
Madame Giry reluctantly left the room, closing the door behind her.
Silence befell the room again and the men locked eyes again.
Darius seemed to be considering something.
Erik looked at the gun, he sensed what action Darius contemplated. Regardless of the amount of money they gave him. What was his plan? Shoot him and flee out of the secret entrance? Even the window perhaps. Maybe he did not even plan on making it out of here alive.
Erik had to consider his next actions very carefully.
He swallowed, trying to relax his vocal cords.
Erik had an idea, but he did not want Darius watching. He did not know how well it would work.
Just in case...
Time passed, Darius's arm and body seemed to grow tired and weary from holding up the gun. For a moment, he broke eye contact to collect himself.
Erik saw his opening. He wished he had been another step closer, but it might be his only chance. Erik's lips barely moved.
"Darius," An accented voice called out.
For just a moment, Darius turned his head. He was obviously confused and shocked, thinking his former master was in the room with them.
It had worked.
Erik was originally uncertain if he could impersonate the accent. Especially without having time to practice or warm up his voice.
Erik sprang forward to grab the gun.
Realizing Erik had used trickery—ventriloquism, Darius's eyes grew, but it was too late.
Erik had one hand on top of the gun. The other on Darius's wrist.
The two men struggled for control of the gun.
"NIGHTFALL!" Erik yelled in the struggle. It was the same code word Giry had whispered to him. He hoped they could hear him.
BAANNG!
Erik felt like he had been right hooked in the shoulder. It was perhaps the worst physical pain he had ever felt. Blood was everywhere, running down his chest, his left arm, and onto the floor. "GAAH!" He grasped his left shoulder with his other hand. He stumbled backwards, losing his footing and falling back to the floor.
While the gun clanged and fell onto the floor.
Erik kicked it several feet away.
Eyes widened, Darius stumbled after the gun so he could finish the job, but halted.
The front conference room door swung wide open.
As did the secret back entrance.
Stunned, Erik did not look up to see, but he heard several loud pairs of footsteps descended upon the room. Half from the front entrance and the other half from the secret back entrance.
"DROP YOUR WEAPON!" Yelled one of the men in warning, probably the leader. He sounded very familiar, could it be? He was not used to hearing him speak in English. They either spoke in French or his native tongue.
Six men, all dressed in black surrounded Darius. Their guns drawn and ready to shoot.
At some point, Darius had drawn a knife. Probably out of his boot or another secret location. Panicked and horrified, he looked like a caged animal. He sputtered, "S-stay b-back!" He looked left, right, and down at the gun on the floor. It probably looked miles away.
"Do not pick it up, Darius." Warned the same man, the leader. Again, he had a very familiar accented voice. "Drop the knife, please. Hands behind your head or we will shoot."
Darius had to see he was trapped. "Y-you...w-why are you here?" He asked, presumably the leader.
"Darius," Erik called out. "It's over." He moaned, "Damn it. Hmmm," His shoulder ached. "I really was going to let you go." Now he could not let him go. He would not stop them if they opened fire.
One of the men in black seemed to look over in Erik's direction though he couldn't make out his face.
"Sir, drop your weapon," Said a second men, possibly Andrew.
Darius pulled the knife back and it front of his neck.
"DON'T—" Yelled the leader.
Darius slid the sharp blade swiftly across his own neck.
"Darius..."
Two men went to his side, trying to assist him while another stood over them.
While two of the other men went to Erik's side, Thomas and Andrew.
While the sixth man, Edward looked around the room, his weapon still drawn. He was making sure everything was secure.
"Master, sir, are you alright? Did he—" Andrew looked half sick upon seeing the blood. "Get the doctor! Hurry!" He snapped.
"Yes, sir!" Young Thomas ran out of the room.
"Here," Andrew took off his black coat and began applying pressure to Erik's shoulder.
Erik barely noticed.
"Darius," Said the third man who stood over and then knelt down near the fallen man. Yes, it was the leader with the familiar voice.
From the floor, Erik could not see the fallen Darius, but he could hear the gurgling, bubbling sounds as he choked on his own blood.
"Darius, why? Why?" The man asked in vain as he cursed. Seconds later he said something in another language. Possibly a prayer.
Moments later, Darius was silent.
The leader lowered his head for a moment. Saying something Erik could not hear. Then shakily he stood and walked over to Erik's side.
"Erik," Said the voice familiar.
Erik could now see his face.
It was him, the very one that Erik had rather successfully impersonated. "Are you hurt?" He had ebony skin, jade eyes, and wore an astrakhan cap. It was Daroga, otherwise known as the Persian, Nadir Khan. The mysterious exiled Prince took off his long black coat and placed it on the floor. "Here, lie back," He gently instructed. "It will help with the blood-loss."
Andrew's green eyes watched them carefully.
"Daroga," Erik reluctantly laid back. "Are you here to discuss business or are you here to finish the job?" He truly doubted Daroga had known anything about Darius's treachery. Still, the man had challenged him many times over the last several years. He had nearly killed Erik years ago during their confrontational reunion. Daroga was a regular visitor and one of Phantasma's top investors. He also co-owned the security business that ran Phantasma's security. None of that was by mere coincidence.
Daroga gave him a brief cold look, then the sadness returned. "No, that I am not." He said with a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Erik. I should have... I am sorry."
"It isn't your fault. We'll talk later," Erik replied.
Daroga nodded.
"Where's Gustave?"
"The boy is safe. He's with Meg Giry and some of the others. A guard is with them."
Erik breathed in relief as they waited for the doctor.
Meanwhile...
Christine Daaé marched through Phantasma's parking lot. She did not know if she was more angry or embarrassed.
Gustave, Gustave, Gustave... She fumed.
That son of hers.
What was she going to do with him?
She did not know. At this rate, he was never going to leave the house again.
Christine neared the gate and saw Gustave.
Relief washed over her.
Christine looked around.
Instantly, she knew something was wrong.
Several yards away from the gates, he was sitting on a small patch of grass. Squelch and Ms. Fleck sat by his side. While Meg was walking around, she looked stricken. Dr. Gangle stood nearby, trying to comfort her. Another tall, dark-skinned, well-built man stood vigil over the group. She believed his name was David. She remembered him from the night John Murphy was thrown out of Phantasma.
Where was Erik?
A few employees she recognized were running in and out of the gate. Why were the police pulling into the parking lot?
Yes, Christine knew something was wrong. She started fast walking towards her son.
Several yards away, Ms. Fleck saw Christine approach, she said something to Gustave. He and Squelch looked up and Christine. Gustave's eyes were red and puffy, he had been crying. He got up and ran into her arms.
"Mom!" Gustave cried, "Oh, Mommy..."
Even without his distraught face, Christine knew he was upset. He had not called her that in years.
"I'm sorry, Mom. Sorry, I'm sorry." He said over and over again.
"Gustave!" Christine held him close. "Gustave, are you alright? W-what happened?" She quickly looked around and back at her son.
"He's going to kill him," Gustave murmured.
Christine's mouth dropped agape, "W-what? Kill who?" What was he saying? What happened?
Meg approached the pair, she looked shaken too.
Then Dr. Gangle approached, he put a gentle hand on Meg's back. David, Squelch, and Ms. Fleck approached the group.
Dr. Gangle and Meg both explained the situation.
Christine could not believe what she was hearing.
How could someone...
Gustave had been...
Erik was...
No...
No.
No, this could not be happening.
None of this was happening.
Christine looked down and held Gustave tighter.
She just got Erik back after all this time.
They were going set things right, they were going to tell Gustave. They were going to get know each other.
And Isabel...
No...
No.
No, he had to be. He had to be alive.
She silently prayed.
Minutes passed that felt like hours.
Christine considered taking Gustave home, but she had to know if Erik was alright. Gustave seemed to feel the same way. So all they could do was helplessly wait.
More time passed and Madame Giry found the group.
Even when she was young, Christine could never read Madame Giry's emotions. She was a master at disguising them. She sometimes wondered if that was another reason Erik had employed her for so long.
Though she did notice the dark glare Madame Giry gave Dr. Gangle upon seeing his hand around Meg's shoulders. Upon regaining her posture, a relieved looking Giry said, "He is alive. Hurt, but alive. The doctor is attending to the Master and says he will make a full recovery." She even gave a relieved, warm, and somewhat maternal smile. "Everything is fine. It's over. Security has dealt with the...intruder. All is well."
Praises and sighs of relief rang out.
Christine rubbed Gustave's back, reassuring him that everything was well.
Madame Giry spoke with Meg and Dr. Gangle then Ms. Fleck and Squelch. All four soon disappeared while the guard remained.
Gustave looked up at Christine. "Can we see him?"
Christine considered her words, but Madame Giry approached them.
"He says he'll see you both soon." She then turned to the guard. "David, the Master and the Persian wish for you to remain with Ms. Daaé and young Gustave upon further instruction."
The Persian? Did she mean Daroga?
"Yes, Ma'am," David nodded.
"Follow me," Madame Giry said.
Later that night...
After briefly speaking with the police and giving a statement, Christine took Gustave home. Hopefully their statements would satisfy them and any further inquiries would be dealt with by her attorney, Mr. Meloni. David followed them closely behind, which Christine did not mind.
After they arrived home, Christine took Gustave upstairs. She washed his tear stained face and assured him everything was well now. Then Christine led him to her room where they sat down on her bed. She sang to him as she held him close and they both fell asleep.
After they awoke, Gustave took a bath while Christine and Isabel said goodnight to most of the staff. Only David and Ms. Everett, who insisted remained.
Gustave came downstairs, then they ate a light meal, and he later played the piano for over an hour. That was some of the best medicine for both mother and son. His upset and worried mind greatly improved. As did Christine's. They both even smiled a little.
Then they went back upstairs to the master bedroom, Christine read to both Gustave and Isabel for awhile, and they both fell asleep.
Brushing her hair from her vanity, Christine watched as Gustave rested in the middle of her large bed while Isabel rested in the small, nearby bassinet. After the day's events, she wanted to keep them both close.
Now Christine wished she could fall asleep. Even quietly read a book, but her mind was too restless.
She was so incredibly grateful Gustave was alright, she did not know what she would have done if she had lost him, Erik, or both.
Putting her hairbrush aside, Christine looked out the curtains and windows once more. Where was he? She was dying to see Erik. Even if it was only for a moment. Christine had not heard anything further all day. No telegrams, phone calls, nothing. Yes, she knew he was alive, but hearing from him and actually seeing him was entirely different. She had already lost him once.
Wearing her favorite blue robe, Christine walked downstairs and checked again to see if all the doors were locked and windows shut. She knew she was being paranoid, David had checked everything over, but after today one could hardly blame her.
Christine organized some of her favorite books, organized the sheet music on the piano, cleaned a spot off the dining table, and checked over the morning's mail. Everything was stamped and correctly addressed.
Softly humming to a melody in her mind, Christine walked back upstairs, checked on the children, slightly pulled back the curtains, and looked out the master bedroom window once more.
A waxing moon was out this evening, giving off a source of light.
A moment later, she could see a distant carriage in the distance coming up the private back driveway.
Christine's brown eyes narrowed, she dared not breathe.
As the silhouetted carriage moved past the trees, she could the figure driving it more clearly. Her breath caught in her throat.
Christine quietly ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
She unlocked the front door and found Erik unevenly climbing down from his carriage.
"Oh, my love," Christine ran over and wrapped her arms around his neck and back. Holding him close, making sure he was real. She kissed his jawline, both sides of his face, and his finally lips.
"Christine..." Erik said softly between her kisses. "Angel... Darling... Gently." He wrapped one arm around her.
She held him closer as she moved her arms.
"Hrrm," Erik moaned, "Gently please," He insisted as he stepped back.
"Sorry," A puzzled Christine pulled back and saw the sling under his black cloak. "Oh, Erik," One of her hands covered her mouth. She knew he was hurt, but had not been told many details. She had thought and hoped it was something minor. She should have known, that was why it had taken so long. That and he probably had to speak with the police. She could only imagine how that went, Erik would have fought and tried to avoid the whole thing at all cost.
Poor Meloni. He probably had work cut out for him.
"I'll live," Erik said with half a shrug. "I guess I've gotten slower." His good hand touched her neck then her face. Erik pulled his hand away and reached behind her back, pulling her close. "H-how is he? How are you? How are they?" He said quickly, he sounded tired.
"He's sleeping. He's fine. We're fine, everything's fine now." Tears threatened to leak. "Oh, thank God in heaven you're alright!" Christine's voice cracked, "You both are." She shook her head. "I don't know what I would have done if..."
"Shhh," Erik's wiped her face, tilted her chin up and their lips met.
Trivia: According to the website in2013dollars dot com, $15,000 in 1907 would be about $422,000 today, adjusting for inflation. While $25,000 in today's dollars would be about $704,000.
Originally, I was not going to include the Persian, but after listening to the original The Phantom of the Opera novel I changed my mind. Also, considering that he was Darius's master in the original I figured it made sense to include him. It's kind of a pity the Persian got cut from the musical except as the monkey and parts of Madame Giry's character. His name isn't given in the original novel, but is revealed to be Nadir Khan in the Phantom novel. Erik/Phantom always calls him Daroga which means "police chief" in Persian.
The Persian refers to the Phantom/Erik as the Prince of Conjurors and the Trap-Door Lover in the original novel. Erik/Phantom brings up wearing a clown costume in America in The Phantom of Manhattan novel.
I was also going to call the chapter Darius, but after further writing I thought Nightfall would be a better choice.
Originally this chapter and the previous chapter were going to be one big chapter, but it got too long. I had a hard time writing the part with the gun going off. I also a terrible time with Erik, Darius, and his motives. I wanted it to seem a little deeper and interesting than greed which is what it came down to in TPOM novel. Originally, I wished I had included Darius a bit more in the story, but I don't know after completing this chapter I'm a bit more satisfied. What do you think?
Next chapter: Erik and Christine finally tell their son.
I'm also working on The Emperor and the Empress.
Please leave a review.