This fic is dedicated to my friend Beriath!
02 Let it be War
The impact upon hitting the frigid water slammed his mind out of its stupor. What just happened? I must have fallen... as numbness spread through his body,the thought of simply letting gravity take him to his final resting place enticed him with ever-greater appeal, but then he suddenly remembered...
"Carlotta!..." His curse was cut off as he inadvertently swallowed two mouthfuls of lake water. Did she see me?
No matter how low I have fallen, I will not let that ogress gloat over my demise! The thought, red-hot like lightening, fired up his brain. Although he had lost everything, pride died hard. As numbed by cold as he was, the imagined scene of Carlotta singing "Priiiima Donna you triumph once again..." as a parting dirge over his watery grave sent a colder chill up his spine. No artist should ever die such a humiliating death! He swore silently.Before he knew it, his limbs were towing him up towards air once again, filled with a new strength and resolve that could only be induced by years of loathing and eardrum-abuse.
As he broke the surface and restocked his lungs with hated oxygen once more, his eyes quickly sought out the diva's lit boat, and another cold chill passed through him--- it was empty! His fears were further confirmed when he heard a steady pounding sound, much like a humpback doing flops, crashing towards him---
Thanks to his superb night vision, a timely swerve to the right brought his face out of the range of a silver arc of light. "Perire!" A high-pitched voice screamed. She's directly in front of me! He realized. In panic, his leg snapped up in a vicious sweep to kick her in the stomach while her hand came down again, and searing pain squeezed every nerve in his limb as the dagger sank into his thigh...
Carlotta unplugged the bloody dagger with a snort of satisfaction. She could as well have stayed in the boat and laugh as her adversary drown, but some impulse caused her to jump overboard--- don't ask her why... it was probably the half-Spanish blood overheating... anyway, as she raised her hand to strike again, it was seized by a cold, vice-like grip... whose crushing hold caused her wrist bones to squeak in complaint and drop the dagger. Fast as lightening, some long, slimy object was loped around her neck. Disgraziata! She lamented. I forgot about the Punjab lasso! Immediately taking a deep breath, she stocked her ample chest to its last cubic millimeter. Ignoring the tightening noose, she clutched her assailant's... whatever... with one hand and started hammering on... some other part of him...
Erik tried to tighten the noose with his usual cold, merciless hold...but some problems were rearing their ugly heads--- the major one being he could not rear his, as one of Carlotta's hands was squeezing onto the back of his neck with animal passion, while the other one was banging upon his head like a sack of stones--- or, to be precise, diamonds. Compared to her ring-encrusted fist, Erik's head was woefully low on the Moh's hardness scale... anyway, what's importantly was, it was so low that it was beneath the water surface. This was simply a contest of who would run out of air last. Technically, he could drag the diva down with him to the bottom of the lake, where both of them would surely perish--- but, of course, the mere thought of that made him wince. Me, dying entwined in the arms of this tub of lard? He scoffed. No way!
The other option was to strangle her at the surface. Unfortunately, while the spirit was willing, the body was weak from the lack of food and blood loss--- in fact, he doubted whether he could even continue with this exertion for another minute. Judging from the length of time Carlotta could yowl on stage, the odds were not on his side--- with sinking hope, he half-suspected that he might need half an hour before the prima donna expired...
The same thoughts were racing through Carlotta's mind. She allowed the jealously-guarded oxygen to escape slowly, only enough to clear the stars whirling before her eyes, but the rope sunk into her throat deeper every second... until she thought her head would surely explode like a pinched bubble. She pondered dragging her foe down to the lake with her, too, but to her dismay, she was a natural floater...
There wasn't really much she could do to improve her situation... until the pressure on her neck vanished miraculously. O padre mio! She thanked her stars as air gushed into her flaming lungs. O, fortunate! Revenge was momentarily forgotten--- all she cared about at that moment was to get as far away from this homicidal maniac as possible. Instinctively, she released her grip on the phantom, doughed-out a powerful turning kick for good measure, and started plowing through the water towards her boat like a galleon on full steam.
As for the phantom, he was also swimming away at the opposite direction as if a boatload of opera critics were hot on his trail.
With shaking fingers, the prima donna heaved herself onto the boat--- choking, as her breaths were still cut short by the noose that constricted her airway just short of strangulation; she loosened the coil frantically and tossed it to the deck, then flopped down face-up in the rocking boat, gulping deep, blessed lungfuls greedily... Until she remembered something important.
"Damn! Where's that phantom? I'm not calling a truce!" She leapt up. Holding the lantern, she scanned the lake surface quickly--- but the ghost was nowhere in sight. Carlotta groaned. Did this mean she had to come down again? The thought of him slipping through her fingers enraged her. However, her throat was calling this a day, and her aching muscles were threatening to go on strike. "At least I've got his lasso," her lazy side tempted. "Heaven knows! Maybe he hasn't got another one! Hohohohoho!"
Regardless of the laughter, she looked down at the accursed rope with a shudder. For a moment, she thought she saw a metallic glint among its coils...
She brought the lamp closer curiously, and found that a silver chain had gotten twisted around the rope---
--- and on its end, a diamond ring glittered in the lamplight like the tear of an angel.
To be continued…