A/N: short and will probably be revised and added to at a later date.
Chapter 34- Old Enemy
Erik's body hummed with anticipation as he made his way back along the corridor towards the stairs. They were to his right now and after a quick peek around the side he made his way up them. At the top of the corridor were three doors and he tiptoed gently towards the third.
He stood outside for a second as the blood cursing through his veins took over and adrenaline finally flooded his body. He turned the handle slowly and pushed the door open to be greeted by the warmth of a burning fire and the sight of a man sitting at the desk. It was a man he recognised well.
'Pierre,' he said, his voice sliding off his tongue. It was pure ice.
Pierre Contigue sat staring at him and slowly a smile spread over his thin lips. Pierre had not changed much since the last time Erik had seen him, he was still fat and he was still bald. He was still ugly on both the outside and on the inside. Erik stepped cautiously into the room, shutting the door behind him but not venturing too close to Pierre.
'Bon sior, Erik.' He said, his voice dripping with resentment. 'It's been a long time, monsieur.'
'Indeed,' Erik said and stared at the old man.
'I've been expecting you.' Pierre said with a smile. 'How have you been?'
'Fine,' said Erik, evenly. 'How have you been, Pierre? I see things haven't altered much.'
Pierre shot him a toothy grin and stood from his seat, walking around his desk slowly towards Erik.
'I knew it was you.' He said, glancing at the fire. 'I knew it was you all along. I heard about the mask. That's how I knew…' he let out a sardonic laugh. 'Have you killed all of my men?'
'No.' said Erik, watching him carefully.
'Good, good.' He coughed. 'Some of them have families.'
'I don't care for their families.' Erik said, glaring at the man in front of the fire. 'And neither do you.'
'I never did care about people.' He said laughing, a laugh that filled Erik with anger and hatred so powerful he had to mentally contain his rage. His eyes didn't leave Pierre for a second as he sat on the edge of his desk, watching him. 'I don't care much for being hit over the head either.'
Erik smiled to himself at the recollection of Antoinette hitting him with the club, he had fallen to the floor like a pathetic child that day so many years ago.
'You owe me your strength, Erik,' said Pierre with a sadistic smirk on his face, his eyes burning with the flames of hell.
'I do owe you something, Pierre.' Said Erik, coldly. 'I owe you for locking me away, for putting me in your freak show…' Erik growled, low and hard. The sight of Pierre had filled him with fury. 'I owe you so much.'
Pierre sprung to his feet pulling out his sword and lunging at Erik, Erik stepped back. Pierre had the sword at Erik's throat and was pressing it carefully against his skin, his mouth inches from his. Erik glared into his eyes, the flecks of light from the fire dancing in them. The metal of the sword was cold against his skin and he smiled at Pierre.
'I'm going to kill you now, Erik,' he said, returning his smile. 'What do you have to say?'
'I hate you for what you did to me.' Said Erik as he pushed his hand towards Pierre's stomach.
He watched as Pierre's eyes filled with horror, the pain flashing in them with the flames of the fire. He listened to the sound of Pierre gagging on his own blood as the sword at Erik's throat dropped to the floor with a clang. Erik could feel warm liquid running over his hand and threw his fingers, Pierre's essence was pouring out over his wrists. Erik stared into his eyes as the life drained from his body and as he pushed him away he pulled the dagger out of his stomach, and held it to his side.
Pierre fell to the floor with a thud and as he did Erik heard the gasp behind him.