Author's note: Hi everyone, sorry for the wait. It happens with school and everything . Many of you out there know exactly what I mean. Anyway, this is a brand new spanking chapter! Do enjoy!
Chapter 8: An Eye for Detail
"You took my world away," a voice echoed throughout Erik's head.
His head felt very heavy as he laid out on the same empty and void landscape of all his other nightmares. Erik attempted to lift his head to find the source of the voice, though he already knew in the pit of his stomach who it belonged to.
"My world was nothing but darkness and pain, you gave me a false light. Why?" Christine's voice began to echo about him as he continued the struggle to sit up.
"What do you mean I gave you false light? I am not capable of light! I am a creature of darkness!" Erik cried as he gained an unknown strength and sat up. Just as he lifted his head and stood up, his figure came into contact with her. Christine stood before him with a bland and stoic gaze, dressed in the brilliant white gown she had been fitted for the Hannibal production.
The brilliant white silk was embroidered with the starlight burst design in traditional design for the fashion; large billowing skirts and a tight corset that pushed her breasts into an impressive display amongst folds of cloth carefully arranged about the edges of her shoulders. He remembered this dress so well, the very first time she had sung with her voice, no, his voice solo on stage. The first time those pathetic managers had given his Christine the chance to prove herself. He could feel no warmth coming from her skin as she stood before him, her eyes devoid of the passion and warmth that he had previously seen.
"I was alone in this world.. You pretended to be something that was promised to me to gain entrance to my life.. You lied to me." her words were filled with a dry pain, like a set of nails being dragged across the stone pavements of Paris.
Erik opened his mouth to protest and list the amount of lies she had produced against him, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the completely lifeless nature that Christine's posture took before him. It was exactly like a porcelain doll. Or maybe something within him had stirred.
"You may say that I left you.. Yes. I lied to you. To protect what I loved." Christine continued. "But take into consideration my Maestro.. that I loved you as well, but in a way that you would never understand."
"So that is why you left!" Erik suddenly found himself only a few inches from her face, screaming ferociously into her pale features. "This is why you abandoned the very man that created you! That Vicomte would have never noticed you had I not placed you on that stage! I own you! YOU BELONG TO.." his voice died within his throat as he studied his features. She had not even flinched as he had advanced on her. She had not even blinked. Even though his face was only an inch from her own, he felt no breath coming from her. Her eyes were blank and cold, like two pools of deep mud instead of the brilliantly lit earthen tones. Though they were right in front of him, they stared right through him to something in the distance. Her entire body still radiated no heat or any presence at that. It was almost as if he were standing in the presences of a..
"I am nothing but a porcelain doll to you. That is all I would have been had I stayed and married you. Another object to place amongst the many you had ruthlessly stolen from others and the opera itself" her voice echoed, though her lips moved, no warm breath moved over his face that rested only a few inches from her own. "You know deep inside of your heart that this was true, this is why you let me go."
Something within his heart stirred, though the rest of his mind fought against the realization that had been planted. There was no turning back, the seed had been placed and the ideal began to grow. The roaring sensations of obsession and pain overthrew the epiphany in a heartbeat and Erik leaned forward.
"Are you not afraid! I was your angel! Your GOD!" he roared into her face, attempting to gain some form of response from the solid figure in front of him.
She had not moved a single bit as his power had flowed from him. Every time he yelled like this on previous occasions under the opera, she had cowered and began to cry profusely. Though the sight had broken his heart every single time, he had felt it necessary to create a display of such raw power to her. To know that she felt his wrath, just as anyone else had in his lifetime. That he still had power over the very creature that seemed to steal that very power with a single glance. But this time she had not budged. Her unnatural stance and posture was still as stiff as before, and her eyes still stared straight through him.
"I never feared your face. Nor will I ever fear your anger again" her eyes then slit shut as a porcelain doll's would and she remained stone silent.
"Christine?"
The figure remained silent.
"No.. "
"Not again!" Erik then leaned over and pressed his lips against her own lips. His mind raced at the possibility of feeling her warm lips against his own again. "Though the first time we had shared a kiss it had tenderness and warmth of desperation and pain, this time would be different" he argued in his mind. However, the minute his lips reached her own, it was cool porcelain that met his touch.
Frightened, he pulled back just in time to see the figurine of Christine begin to crack. The smooth and perfect texture of her flesh began to separate into fine hair lines. Her limbs fell from her figure and then she collapsed as a whole: Porcelain pieces flying in every direction, millions which could never be placed together again. The exquisite dress laid in a heap of broken pieces as Erik fell to his knees upon the sharp pottery. Just then he felt a sharp pain in his lip. Lifting his gloved hand, he felt the corner of his lips and pulled a piece of the porcelain out of the flesh. Upon scrutinization he realized that it was the piece that was once her lips, it had buried a sharp edge deeply into the corner of his mouth. Blood was seeping down the front of his throat and down his chest.
"Remember.." the lips formed the words as Christine's unearthly tone echoed around him in the darkness.
Erik's eyes fluttered open after what felt like an eternity of darkness had enveloped his mind. His vision was incredibly blurry, but he was still able to make out the unmistakable glaring eyes that were only inches from his own. The two hazel orbs glowered in incredible anger and hatred, one that Erik only recognized from having looked in a mirror. But, his eyes were amber and gold... Who was this?
"Remember!" a rough tone shrieked in French. Erik could feel the spittle upon his own face from the ferocity of the voice that screamed at him.
It belonged to a very angrily, contorted face. The flat nose and broad forehead indicated it was not a particularly attractive individual. The large lips began to open and close again, though the words came slowly to Erik's realization.
"You took everything away from me!" another sharp sting came to Erik's cheek. He then attempted to lift his arm to touch his lip where it had been bleeding in the dream. However, he found that he could not move his arms. After moving slightly, he found that both his hands had been tied tightly behind his back. Erik then began to notice the environment around him. There was a cool salty breeze across his face, including the exposed flesh from his missing mask. The rustle of several figures standing around and below him, and the murmuring of a large crowd that watched carefully at the situation.
"Laroth.. Perhaps we should wait for the Captain. You know that he is very particular about the ships situation." another voice intervened.
Erik then opened his eyes to greet the sight before him. Around him stood thirty to forty men, staring up at him with awe and with a strange mix of fright. Though Erik had stood before many 'spectators' before, he had never experience a crowd like this. Their eyes spoke of a fear that resided within the action that would occur, not a mixture of grotesque fear and fascination of the creature that stood before them. Though his mind fought to use the explanation of the gypsy camp before this, his heart knew otherwise as he stared out at the faces of these men.
When Erik lifted his gaze further he found that he was surrounded by wooden planks and raised upon a platform above it all. Large poles, with ropes and rope ladders hanging methodically around the decorated edges that spread out to an endless sea that sparkled with the midnight stars and the full moon. He instantly knew he was on the deck of the Asclepius. His attention then returned sharply to his own position as a small hand once again came flying across his face.
"Silence Kiae! You and the captain can speak of this later! Rules are rules, any stowaway is killed upon discovery!" the voice burst out.
Erik's gaze then followed the voice and the hand that struck him. He found that his gaze found a very small man standing atop many crates to meet Erik's six-foot height. He was dressed in a simple dress shirt and trousers, tied about his waist with an intricately decorated belt, perhaps torn from a large silk masterpiece. The face was the one he had awoken to. The hazel eyes were blazing with that familiar anger and the man was obviously fighting to control himself. The figure looked like nothing less than a lion held within a half open cage before a large side of blood soaked beef.
Before Erik could continue his assement of the smaller man he rapidly reached up and threw something over Erik's neck. Another man approached, and gripped the rope tightly.
"Laroth, I never heard the captain speak of such things.." he spoke to the smaller man.
"You will obey my orders Kiae, as the highest ranking crewman present." Laroth spat back.
"This is a man's life you speak of, not some simple animal to be put to death. I will not allow any more action before hearing the captain's final word." Kiae spat back. Erik then rolled his eyes to observe the other individual. He was tall, lean, of a darker skin much like the slaves he had witnessed in the palace of the Shah. Though his voice betrayed any assumption that Erik could take on his origin, as he spoke perfect French. His face had a sharply curved jaw and the larger broad nose common to Africa. Just as Erik continued his scrutiny of Kiae, he turned to face Erik. It was then that Erik noticed that the flesh where his right eye should have been was completely covered over. Smooth and flawless like the rest of his face, but completely lacking an eyeball. Erik continued to stare at the stranger standing up for him as he looked back at him. Kiae's eye showed a soft kindness and a stern concern. "Monsieur, if I bring the captain will you be able to explain yourself?"
Erik opened his mouth to speak, however a sharp stab of pain and a gush of blood met his movement. He let out a muffled cry of pain and hung his head, watching the droplets of blood and spittle fall from his lips. The loss of blood from the beatings he had endured had taken its toll and Erik fell unconscious again, this time at the feet of Kiae.
Kiae had watched the pitiful figure fall before him and had quickly removed the rope about his neck before he fell. Lifting his hand, Kiae indicated for a few of the crewmen to fetch the captain. Two of the crewmen towards the back detached from the staring masses and ran to the other end of the boat. Kiae then reached down to the figure and stared up at Laroth with a hint of anger to his single glare.
"Where did you get this man?" he stated, his nerves and voice frayed at the edge of impatience.
"That is no business of yours, this is a personal score of honor! How DARE you interfere!" Laroth replied as he moved down the boxes towards the African man. "This creature has killed, destroyed, and shattered more lives then you will ever know!"
Kiae's eyebrow lifted, "So you know him. He's not just a stowaway.."
A small cry of shock and echo of disapproval ran through the on looking crew. Laroth backed away and stood with a ferocious pride that not even a lion could back down from. "This is no business of yours.." he spat.
Kiae smiled faintly and picked up the fallen figure of Erik, "now it is.." As Kiae turned away, Laroth made a hand gesture towards another figure in the crowd. The figure stealthily reached behind Kiae and snatched the limp figure from his shoulder. Just as Kiae whipped about to know the meaning of his stolen goods, another hand came from the crowd and punched him, knocking him from the platform and to the lower deck. His body then lay unmoving where it landed.
"Thank you Seti, I shall note to the Captain how well you obeyed orders when he awakens.." Laroth smiled as he replaced the noose about Erik's unconscious form. "May this all be a lesson to each of you!" Laroth then turned to the crowd as Seti moved to place the lifeless form over the edge of the platform. "That a captain's order, is a captains order.." his hand then fell to indicate the execution.