Chapter Ten: Love Brings us Together
"Don't touch me! If you touch me I shall scream until the whole camp hears and comes to find us!"
He was stunned, and as his lantern illuminated her face once more, he saw the sly, secret smile of satisfaction cross her lips and he understood her purpose. "No one will believe you!" he gasped. "No one will believe it was I who lured you into this place."
"Oh you didn't lure me," she said simply. "I was taken by force."
"In silence?" he inquired with trembling sarcasm. "Without a single cry of protest?"
"I fainted – from terror." She was staring fixedly into the distance, as though she were watching a play being acted out in front of her. "Who would doubt the truth of that?"
He had fled, Dunicha remembered. The boy who had been at least five years younger than herself had fled in the horror of what she was going to accuse him of. Even now it seemed like it had been such a good idea. The boy named Erik had been frightening to everyone in the camp with his horrifying face. No one would have thought that perhaps he would be too young to rape a pretty girl.
A pretty girl… Dunicha's eyes narrowed as she watched her three captives. They each fought their separate demons, and well they should! She remembered what had happened next with clarity. She had hobbled back to the camp, her ankle broken from the stumble she had taken, ready to tell her father and everyone else that the "little corpse" had raped her. It was simple enough to tear a bit of her blouse and skirt. So simple indeed.
She had never expected Javert to be dead. Certainly everyone knew it had been Erik, as the boy was nowhere in sight. The horrible man was lying in a pool of his own blood and Dunicha had gasped on entry.
"Get out of here, child!" her father had screamed at her. His eyes then had traveled down her tattered close. "What…?"
Tears had streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed out the story she had thought up to keep her true secret safe. Anger had erupted through the camp that night and they'd looked everywhere, but Erik was a trickster indeed. He was nowhere to be found.
Dunicha had grown old. Alone. Who waned a soiled woman, anyhow? She'd turned her mind to trickeries herself, learning a potion here and a spell there. She'd given her mind away as well as her soul to the devil himself by the time she was done and now she looked at least twenty years older than her actual age and as ugly as the man she hated so much. "If you'd never been there," she hissed at the Phantom who lay on the ground, shuddering from the dreams. An evil smirk crossed her face. "But now you're here. And now you're mine."
Luciana faded away from memory and blood spilled from everywhere. Persia. Horrifying Persia. Erik heard his own scream of terror fill his ears and he stepped away from the title wave of blood that seemed to come crashing down around him, drowning him in it.
"Please…" he begged quietly. "I've paid my dues! Long since! Haven't I suffered enough for what I've done?"
"But you're happy now," Javert answered, as if it were reason to torture the younger man. "Who can have that? Look over there."
Erik shuddered visibly when he saw Christine. Another image. Another dream. She was standing in on the shore of the underground lake with a clone of himself between her and Raoul.
She sobbed his name quietly and Erik saw his doppelganger tug on the rope. Hard. Raoul cried out in he darkness and Christine fell to her knees into the water, sobbing hysterically. "I can't…" she screamed, her voice sound lovely even through her tears. "I can't do this again!"
The Phantom froze in his spot. No… this was no false Christine.
"This can't be!" Javert shouted from behind him.
Erik paid him no heed as he raced towards his angel. "Christine!"
She looked up, her tear filled eyes locking with his. "Erik?"
He scooped her up into his arms, pulling her close to him and he heard her let out a small sound as his embraced tightened even more. She sobbed into his shoulder, locking her arms around his neck. "Oh Erik! I thought… I don't know, I just couldn't do it again! I made my choice, my love, please…"
"I know," he whispered to her, comforting her.
"This is impossible," Javert's horrible voice filled their ears. "This is impossible! The dreams don't intertwine! They are separate! That's how it is! The old witch screwed it up!"
A small smile crossed Erik's lips as Christine clung to him. "You've lost," he said simply, shrugging his broad shoulders.
"What is this?" Dunicha growled out. They'd been lying next to each other and she had thought nothing of it, but when she'd turned away, somehow, Erik and Christine had found their way into each other's arms. The old witch howled with fury, but then her eyes turned away. "Cali!"
The girl stepped out from behind a prop, large eyes frightened. "Yes?"
"Child, don't hide." A frightening smile crossed the old woman's lips. "Come here."
The child obeyed, stealing a glance back to where Raoul and Meg knelt, hidden. She dared not look long as the old, withering hand stretched itself out for her.
"Have I ever told you who your mother's father was?" asked an aged voice.
"No."
"He was Spanish. Promised the world, don't you know he did! Do you know that things like that, child, are why we don't trust outsiders?"
"Of course not, Grandmama," the girl answered quietly.
"Then why, dearest child, did you bring their friends?"
"Friends, Grandmama?"
The old woman slapped the child, sending the latter tumbling over herself. She loomed over her, hand pulled back and ready to strike again.
"No! Don't!" Meg screamed, standing from her place. "Please! She's only a child!"
"A rebellious little twit," Dunicha responded harshly. "And you, brat, what will you and your little friend do, eh?"
Meg's eyes went wide as she stared at the witch. Dunicha turned to see what the blond was staring at and Erik's gloved hand met her withering throat, throwing her easily aside like a rag doll. His eyes glowed with unnatural fury as he stood over her. "Release Nadir from your spell, hag."
She forced out a chuckle. "So you broke it, did you? Have a nice chat with Javert, Erik?"
The Phantom descended on her faster than anyone could follow and the old woman was hauled up by her frighteningly wild hair. "Watch your tongue."
"All right!" she hissed. "Let me go, corpse, and I release him."
"Perhaps I did not make myself clear," Erik growled lowly. "Release him. Now."
"The vile to undo it is in the tent," Cali's small voice whispered.
"You little tramp!" Dunicha screamed. Erik promptly dropped her and she landed with a thud on the hard ground. She turned her deep set eyes up to him. "How did you do it, boy?"
"I will always be by Christine's side," he answered simply, turning to usher the others into the tent for the vile, Cali leading the way.
A/N: There will be an epilogue.
Lynx Ryder: Glad you got the spoiler. Hope you enjoyed the next-to-last chapter :)
FreakinIdiot06: Hehe… stupid emails… At least they make for good amusement
LostSchizophrenic: Sorry I didn't update yesterday. Had tons of stuff to do
GoldenLyre: hehe… suspense is good. Means I'm going my job right
IndiaPyro: Cali is not on Dunicha's side. Erik does know it's a dream, but you know when you have a nightmare, you know it can't be real, but it's still just as scary b/c it's thrown in your face? That's how it is. She's not "showing" Nadir his son, she just pulled up the strongest memory she could.
