The Duke looked down at Christian with a look of controlled fury. Christian's attention, however, was now set on the large man behind the Duke. His manservant, Warner. Warner looked at him with an almost happy sneer on his face.
The Duke's face began to redden as he fully realized who Christian was. "You!" he stammered, too angry to talk. "How dare you show your face in this city again!"
Christian opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly found that fear had seized his throat.
"You...stole her from me!" the Duke continued. "You...bewitched her!"
Christian finally found his voice. "You tried to steal her from me! She loved me, and I loved her! She would have only been a trophy wife for you!"
"Nonsense, boy! I loved her as well!"
"But she didn't love you!" Christian shouted, all the anger he had felt for the past nine years surfacing. "You tried to force her to stay with you, but she loved me!"
The Duke sneered. "And where did that get her?" He turned to Warner and nodded. The large man stepped forward. The Duke turned back to Christian. "It was a shame that you came back. You may have lived a long, happy life in London. But you will die here, now, in this dirty alleyway. It's a shame. I heard you became quite a writer."
Christian caught the glint of metal under Warner's coat just a second before he saw the gun. He ducked and dived at Warner's legs, without thinking. The large man fell, landing on top on Christian. Warner groaned but brought the gun back around to point at Christian. With a strength no one could have ever quessed he possessed, Christian shoved Warner off of him and took off running down the street.
"After him!" the Duke shouted. Warner grinned as he began to chase after the retreating Christian.
Christian ran as fast as he could throught the crowded streets of Paris. He had to squeeze through many people, even shove some out of the way. He didn't know if the Duke was bold enough to have him killed in broad daylight, but then again most people wouldn't care. He jumped as he nearly ran over a boy playing on the ground, but continued running. He had been running for a good few minutes when he stopped to catch his breath.
He breathed heavily and leaned over, placing his hands on his knees. The Duke must not be crazy enough to kill me with all these people around, he thought as he tried to breath. He stood up straight, just as the sound of a gunshot echoed through the streets. He ducked instinctively, and saw Warner, close behind him, a mad grin still on his face.
Christian cursed and took off running again. His mind was reeling as he ran, trying to figure out a way out of his problem. What the hell happened today? he thought to himself. The day started out with a meeting with a sponsor, now I'm being chased by a bald madman with a gun! Another shot rang out, and Christian saw it hit the window of a store just in front of him.
"I don't deserve this!" he shouted to no one. He turned and ran down a main road, and idea forming in his head. He ran as fast as he could, until he could see the familiar shape of the Moulin Rouge in front of him. He stopped at the front door, but found it was locked. He cursed and ran back to the building in front of it. With a shout, he ran and slammed his shoulder into the neglected door. It shattered, and Christian landed hard on his shoulder.
He shook it off and continued to run, right into what had been the theatre. He ran up onto the stage and past the curtain, until he was in the hidden backstage. He looked around frantically for a moment, before turning to the right. He went up flight after flight of stairs. He was turning to go up another flight when another gunshot went off. This time, Christian could have sworn he saw it fly past his face. Forgetting the stairs, he went into the nearest door.
With his shoulder throbbing, and his lungs threatening to give out on him, he rushed as fast as he could down the hall. When it came to a junction, he skidded to the left, painfully aware that Warner was still behind him. He turned another corner, and saw a flight of stairs going down. He grinned and headed toward them, but a door in front of him suddenly opened, and a figure stepped out.
He cried out in alarm and tried to turn, but only ended up slamming his sore shoulder into the person. The woman fell at the head of the stairs, but Christian tripped over her and fell headfirst down the stairs.
The Duke's face began to redden as he fully realized who Christian was. "You!" he stammered, too angry to talk. "How dare you show your face in this city again!"
Christian opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly found that fear had seized his throat.
"You...stole her from me!" the Duke continued. "You...bewitched her!"
Christian finally found his voice. "You tried to steal her from me! She loved me, and I loved her! She would have only been a trophy wife for you!"
"Nonsense, boy! I loved her as well!"
"But she didn't love you!" Christian shouted, all the anger he had felt for the past nine years surfacing. "You tried to force her to stay with you, but she loved me!"
The Duke sneered. "And where did that get her?" He turned to Warner and nodded. The large man stepped forward. The Duke turned back to Christian. "It was a shame that you came back. You may have lived a long, happy life in London. But you will die here, now, in this dirty alleyway. It's a shame. I heard you became quite a writer."
Christian caught the glint of metal under Warner's coat just a second before he saw the gun. He ducked and dived at Warner's legs, without thinking. The large man fell, landing on top on Christian. Warner groaned but brought the gun back around to point at Christian. With a strength no one could have ever quessed he possessed, Christian shoved Warner off of him and took off running down the street.
"After him!" the Duke shouted. Warner grinned as he began to chase after the retreating Christian.
Christian ran as fast as he could throught the crowded streets of Paris. He had to squeeze through many people, even shove some out of the way. He didn't know if the Duke was bold enough to have him killed in broad daylight, but then again most people wouldn't care. He jumped as he nearly ran over a boy playing on the ground, but continued running. He had been running for a good few minutes when he stopped to catch his breath.
He breathed heavily and leaned over, placing his hands on his knees. The Duke must not be crazy enough to kill me with all these people around, he thought as he tried to breath. He stood up straight, just as the sound of a gunshot echoed through the streets. He ducked instinctively, and saw Warner, close behind him, a mad grin still on his face.
Christian cursed and took off running again. His mind was reeling as he ran, trying to figure out a way out of his problem. What the hell happened today? he thought to himself. The day started out with a meeting with a sponsor, now I'm being chased by a bald madman with a gun! Another shot rang out, and Christian saw it hit the window of a store just in front of him.
"I don't deserve this!" he shouted to no one. He turned and ran down a main road, and idea forming in his head. He ran as fast as he could, until he could see the familiar shape of the Moulin Rouge in front of him. He stopped at the front door, but found it was locked. He cursed and ran back to the building in front of it. With a shout, he ran and slammed his shoulder into the neglected door. It shattered, and Christian landed hard on his shoulder.
He shook it off and continued to run, right into what had been the theatre. He ran up onto the stage and past the curtain, until he was in the hidden backstage. He looked around frantically for a moment, before turning to the right. He went up flight after flight of stairs. He was turning to go up another flight when another gunshot went off. This time, Christian could have sworn he saw it fly past his face. Forgetting the stairs, he went into the nearest door.
With his shoulder throbbing, and his lungs threatening to give out on him, he rushed as fast as he could down the hall. When it came to a junction, he skidded to the left, painfully aware that Warner was still behind him. He turned another corner, and saw a flight of stairs going down. He grinned and headed toward them, but a door in front of him suddenly opened, and a figure stepped out.
He cried out in alarm and tried to turn, but only ended up slamming his sore shoulder into the person. The woman fell at the head of the stairs, but Christian tripped over her and fell headfirst down the stairs.