Alas! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the street lamp, for it's 11:35!... Oh, now it's 11:36:slaps self: No! Bad! No running commentaries on what time it is! I have problems... But they're MINE! All for me, none for you! My problems! Back off! Hisssssssssss!
Oh yeah, Disclaimer: I don't own squat! I am a hobo and I live in a cardboard box... A cardboard box that it definitely NOT mine!
TheGreatSporkWeilder: Erik? Bodyguard? Um... sure. That'd be amusing, seeing Erik dive in front of a bullet. Nooooo! Erik can't get shot! That'd screw up my plot:does slow-motion dive and stops Erik from being gunned down by the angry gangsta: Wait a sec! Why do you need a bodyguard, hmm:eyes suspiciously: I'm onto you! Bwahaha!
Sandra: Strange nicknames rock! My nickname is Fish, or Pfish, or Phish... or Poisson d'Avril, or the All-Knowing-Everlasting-Immortal-Omniscient-Cherry-Flavored-Cheesecake... whichever you prefer, really. And be happy! There is more bad ass Erik-ness to come, so stay tuned!
Marianne-Brandon: Yeah, this chapter has a bit of drama, too. That's really not the way I'm going with this fic, though, so it'll be back to it's full-fledged funniness by next chapter. Much as I may try to keep this fic lighthearted, the drama writer in me refuses to back down, and thus comes chapters like the last one... :faints: Erik? Opium? Nooooo! Just say no, Erik! JUST SAY NO!
friend5: I love cliffies... :smirks: As for updating soon, well, this isn't too bad, is it? I try to update quickly, I really do, but I always get stuck right at the end... But this chapter is a lot longer than most of my other ones, so I hope that makes up for some of my slowness...
Erik'sgirlfriend: That bit was an afterthought, but I'm really glad I added it. That chapter really, really needed some comic relief. I laughed out loud when I thought of it, though, and people looked at me as though I were mad... which I am.
Angeloftheoperahouse: I'm glad you liked it! I was worried that I would be pelted with rotten fruit because of all the drama, so I'm so happy that no one's attacking me! Eep! No pelty with zee diapers, sil-vous plait? Yes, poor, arrested Erik... don't worry, though. Legally, there isn't enough evidence to hold him in contempt... (ah! Bad lawyerness! Stop taking up space in my brain!) Yay! My head is talented:does happy dance:
Moon Avenger: :glomps her bemasked muse: ERIK! I missed you:regains composure: Yay! You returned my buddy! Don't worry, he'll visit, I promise:mutters: fine, I'll feed him properly... :pouts and slumps off to Wally World (Wal-Mart) to expand her food stash:
Schynchiro Kagemoru: As for Erik being okay, you'll have to read and find out :smirks: Eep! Not the sporkies! Oh yes, about the Punjab... Now, I'd be a liar if I said I was an expert on the Punjab Lasso, but I can share with you what little I know... It's a Persian weapon that looks something like a noose, only shorter and with a few other differences that I'm not quite familiar with. Oh yeah, it's made of dried catgut (lovely, isn't it?). In the books, the punjab is Erik's weapon of choice... Hope that helps. I'd tell you more, but that's pretty much all I know.
Seven: Yeah, the dressing room guy could have been gay, too. Interpret it however you like, it won't effect the plot. :grins: Yep, she's got him all to herself... :glares jealously at Carmen: but forget about Christine? I wouldn't say he's forgotten her, far from it, in fact. I'd say he's simply distracted from his self-pity... stupid wench though she is...
Solecito: I know how you feel about the violence bit. Don't worry, the violence in this story is far and in between. I'm not a big fan of excessive violence either, but it gets sort of unavoidable every now and then. Be happy, though, this chapter is A LOT longer than the others. I know I took too long to update, and I'm sorry, but I've been really busy studying for finals and such. As soon as summer comes, I should be updating at least once a week, though!
Affirmed Hope: Erik and strife just seem to be magnetically attracted to each other. He just can't avoid it, can he? Oh well, at least he's good at getting himself out of it:points to chapter below:
Besides, strife is fun to write!
Gem: Your review made me so very happy! What will they do, you ask? Well, I'd tell you, but then there would be no point in reading chapter nine! The scary stalker folk are supposed to creep you out, heck they even creep me out, and I'm the one who wrote them into existence!
DarogaDaae: Oui, il est tres mal pour leur! (Translation: Yes, it's very bad for them :man, I wish my french were better... oh well) Mmmm... wiry... Hey wait a sec? A disaster beyond my imagination? You dare to threaten me? The authoress:earsplitting maniacal laughter emanates from the computer while thunder crashes in the background: I control all:zaps random passerby with thunderbolt: Fear my power! Mwahahaha! ... Ok, I'm done now...Really, I am...
Okay, so I lied. It's no longer 11:36. Now it's 1:51... p.m. Yes, I fell asleep at my desk while responding to reviews! What of it?
Chapter Nine: The Seventh Pineapple
Carmen blinked her eyes open. All she could see at first was a big blur of various shades of off white, but when her vision slipped back into focus, the tubes, charts, and bad interior design told her that she was in a hospital... But why? She couldn't remember what had happened. There had been a creepy pale guy who wanted to hurt Erik and wore mean, painful, boots... and something about a dumpster... but everything else was a blur.
The door creaked open and a middle aged woman pushing a cart piled with gauzes, towels, pills, and other hospital-worthy items minced into the room, humming what sounded like elevator music.
"What happened to me?" Carmen demanded suddenly, realizing the nurse (or whatever she was) probably had even less of an idea of what had happened than she did.
The lady looked at her in an annoying kindly manner that made Carmen feel as though she were five. "Well, miss, you've suffered a rather nasty head injury. It came as the result of an attack in the streets, I believe."
Carmen sighed. That was nothing she hadn't known or couldn't have guessed before.
"Oh," said the nurse suddenly, "I believe there is a man outside who wants a word with you, but only if you feel up to it, of course. If you don't feel well enough, he says he'll be more than happy to wait."
Carmen shook her head, causing pain to shoot down her spine like little needles. She was fairly certain that Erik was the man in question, and she really wanted to talk to him, to warn him about the greasy man's plans to use him as some weird pagan sacrifice.
The door opened again and a man, whom Carmen was highly disappointed to note was definitely not Erik, came into her room with a clipboard and seated himself next to her bed.
"Good morning." he said "I'm Inspector Berns, from the Cincinnati police department. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about what happened?"
"Go ahead."
"Alright, then. Let's start with the basics, then. Do you remember who did this to you?"
"It's still a bit fuzzy, but I remember a pale-skinned man with relatively long black hair, all black clothing, and some sort of boots."
The inspector squinted at Carmen as though he were waiting for her to say more. "Were there any major distinguishing characteristics?" he prompted... What was he looking for?
"No... You seem to be expecting something in particular. Why?"
The man...--Berns, he'd said his name was,-- seemed to stop for a moment, unable to decide whether or not Carmen was some evil spy pressing him for classified information. Apparently, he'd figured she was far too concussed to pose a threat, because he leaned in towards her and whispered "We have a suspect in custody. He's an extremely suspicious character... the man wears a mask... and we can't find a damn thing on him! Not so much as a birth certificate!"
The bed seemed suddenly to tilt sharply to one side as Carmen nearly fainted in horror. They had Erik! Inspector Berns took her reaction in the most annoying way possible.
"Do you know him! An old enemy, perhaps?" he asked eagerly.
Now, Carmen was fighting the urge to smack her guest with a lunch tray. Was he trying to be the world's most cliché "defective detective", or was it just in his nature?
Erik's cell was cold, dirty, uncomfortable, and above all... open. Now, all of these things he could come to terms with in time, but there was one particular feature that was so incredibly irritating that it was on the verge of driving poor, scarcely-sane, Erik permanently off the deep end... his cell mate.
The man had been annoying from the start. The moment the police had shoved Erik into this sorry excuse for a room, he'd seen trouble. The man had immediately made a mad dash for the exit and gotten himself handcuffed to the cell's barred front wall. Now, he was whining like a wounded dog and rattling his chains in hopes that someone would come and unlock him. Meanwhile, Erik was trying to formulate a means of escape.
"Shut up, would you!" he finally snarled, "I can't think with all that damnable racket!"
"But... my cuffs are on too tight."
Erik stood up and strode across the cell, stopping when he was less than a foot away from the man. "Aww... you poor dear. Let me help you with that..." he sneered, tightening the handcuffs until the man whimpered in a most unmanly fashion before finally picking the lock with obvious ease. "If anyone sees you unlocked, remember that I had nothing to do with it..." he warned.
"That'd be kind of pointless, dude. They're watching us with cameras all the time."
Erik had no idea how anyone could be watching them with cameras, but he didn't doubt that someone had figured out a way in the past century or so. Not wanting to take chances, he promptly locked his cell mate to the bars again, hoping that the original unlocking had gone unnoticed.
"Hey!" the man cried.
"If you wanted to remain free, you should have kept your mouth shut." Erik said simply. Apparently, the fool could think of no intelligent response to this, so Erik was granted a sweet, however brief, period of silence... but like all good things, it would not last.
"So, what're you in for?"
"I have done nothing... or at least, not recently. I am innocent of the crime they are imprisoning me for."
"Right... Well, me, I'm man enough to admit that I am guilty. They've got me in here for sexual assault... and that's exactly what I did."
Erik shuddered in disgust. This man spoke of his wrongdoings with pride! True, they were nothing compared to the hundreds of murders he'd committed both independently and for pay, but at least he was properly ashamed of them! ...And what did he mean, exactly, by sexual assault? Had he simply been far too forward with a woman, or was he speaking about something far less innocent? Whatever it was, it was all Erik needed to decide that this man was going to be removed from his cell by tomorrow morning. The Phantom of the Opera was not going to share such a small space with a man who was clearly unworthy of his company.
Inspector Berns was visibly disappointed by Carmen's testimony, and didn't ask much more of her. As soon as he'd asked his final question, Carmen had her own list of questions for him to answer.
"Was anyone else there when you arrived?" she asked, "apart from the masked man, of course?"
The inspector nodded. "One other, unconscious, like yourself... Perhaps I should show you a picture of him?" he opened his briefcase and pulled out a photo. Carmen recognized the pallid face, long hair, and sallow features at once. The full recollection of what had happened that night came flooding back to her. She needed to warn Erik!
"That's him!" she cried, pointing at the man in the picture, "He's the one that attacked me!"
Carmen's nurse re-entered the room and gave Berns a sharp warning glance. "Miss Lenoir, you must calm yourself before you increase your injuries, and Mr. Berns! If you excite this lady any further, I'm afraid I shall have to ask you to leave!"
"Speaking of leaving, how long am I going to be here?" Carmen demanded.
"At least overnight, and that's only if you prove to have no serious injuries."
Carmen scowled. What a waste of time... "Okay, I promise I'll sit still." she said nastily, "You can go now."
"Cranky..." muttered the nurse, heading back out the door.
"Well," began Carmen, turning to face the inspector again, "As I was about to tell you, before I was interrupted, it was the man in the photo who assaulted me. I am fairly certain that the masked man is a friend of mine. He was probably trying to protect me, but I wouldn't know as I was unconscious when he came."
The inspector studied Carmen's bruised features as though he found something about her nose to be extremely fascinating. "He was protecting you, eh?... That's exactly what he said."
Carmen sighed. She was already beginning to hate the American legal system. "What about the other guy? Is he awake yet? Have you talked to him?"
"Nope. He's still out... He got hit a lot harder than you..."
Eventually, Inspector Berns decided he was finished with Carmen and excused himself, leaving her alone to scheme. How could she get out of here before tomorrow? She was certain that she was already just fine and fully capable of walking. Erik was bound to be in a far worse predicament, wherever he was. After all, he didn't legally exist. What would the authorities make of a man with no recorded history?
That evening, Erik put his plan to rid himself of his troublesome roommate into action. He'd spotted the camera that he was apparently being watched through, and had carefully studied it all day. It had no way of possibly recording sound... And once he had the full cover of darkness he would be invisible to the mechanical eye.
Finally his time came. The guards called "lights out" and everyone slipped into bed, but of course, no one actually went to sleep. In the pitch black, however, no one would be able to prove he'd done anything, if anything like that were to come to question. He said nothing, but merely stared at the man in the bed on the opposite end of the tiny room. Even in the pitch black, one could always tell when they were being watched...
When he heard whimpers of fright, he knew it was time for part two. He threw his voice so that it appeared to come from inside the man's own ears and softened it so he alone would hear it.
"I am coming for you... Every breath you take draws me closer. You shall pay for your sins..."
"St- Stop it!" whispered the man.
Erik pretended to be asleep and responded with a groan and a well chosen insult.
"You are a foolish man, to think you can evade my wrath"
"Stop it right now or I swear I'll come over there and show you what assault is really like!"
"You could try..." muttered Erik as though he'd just been woken, "But you might never live to see me bruise... Particularly if you wake me again."
"You said you were innocent... Y-you don't have the guts to kill me!"
"I said I was innocent of the crime for which they imprison me. There's a difference, although I suspect your limited mind may have some difficulty spelling out exactly what it is... Now if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to sleep."
"Yes... Just try and touch me. See what happens, why don't you?"
Then, he snapped. "STOP TALKING IN MY HEAD!" There was a violent creaking noise that told Erik the man had flung himself from his bed. He made to hit Erik, bad Erik had been ready and curled himself into a defensive little ball that shielded him from anything too painful. But still, he blew the attack out of proportion, pleading for mercy and moaning in "agony". It wasn't long before policemen came and took Erik's "attacker" away. When he was almost out of the room, Erik lost his self control and whispered into the man's ear once more.
"Au revoir."
This made things worse, of course, but Erik couldn't honestly say that he cared.
He found that night's sleep to come easily after the sweet satisfaction of having used his mind for torment once again... not that he particularly enjoyed torment, but he was growing quite tired of letting his intellect gather dust.
The next morning was rather a pain.Erik had to speak with a judge, who set his bail at a fairy low rate after Erik had engaged him in a intellectual conversation about the opera "Romeo and Juliet". Personally, he'd never been particularly fond of the writer's interpretation of Shakespeare's literature, but he'd been more that willing to play the devil's advocate and side with the man setting his bail.
That afternoon, however, Carmen finally arrived.
"Heavens child." Erik sighed, "This place you people call 'jail' is nothing compared to the jails in my time. If we were in the eighteen hundreds, I'd being breaking rocks apart with a pickaxe right now."
Carmen rolled her eyes. "And I'm sure they would have made you walk fifteen miles through a blizzard to get there... and it would have been uphill... both ways."
"No, but I certainly wouldn't be allowed to simply sit idly in my cell all day."
"Whatever, Erik. It doesn't matter. I'm bailing you out."
"Excellent." Erik clapped his hands together, "I won't have to frighten away any more cell mates."
Carmen opened her mouth to inquire as the what Erik had done, but then decided that she didn't really want to know.
Paying bail evidently needed to be handled with the chief of police, who was a fat man with an astonishingly cliché obsession with doughnuts. Erik was forced to wait outside, handcuffed to a chair in the waiting room. He hated the way everyone was starting at him, and even more so, at his mask. He soon felt as though he was about to break free and strangle the next person who so much as glanced at him, so he diverted his attention to Carmen's conversation with the chief. Their conversation seemed to have turned into a heated argument, although he couldn't hear any specific words. All he could hear was angry voices and rustling papers.
A few minutes later, Carmen emerged with a large stack of papers and a self-satisfied grin on her face. "You're free," she said, "unless they can findsome substanialevidence to prove you worthy of any suspicion... but somehow, it seems they've misplaced your files, so we get this mound of paperwork to fill out. Isn't that just dandy?"
The overly-giddy tone of Carmen's voice told Erik quite clearly that she'd had quite the row with the chief of police... he wanted details, but that could wait until they were once again in the security of the dormitory.
He found himself waiting, once again, while Carmen called her friends for a ride back to campus, but they were outside now, where most people were far too busy to notice that the man waiting on the bench beside the telephone booth was wearing a strange, white mask. Either that or they were all too dizzy from the disgusting smell of the city that made even Erik, who had spent a fair amount of his life in Paris, want to breath through a filter lest he pass out.
Jessica and Ava arrived in good time. Erik had to help Carmen, who was still extremely bruised and sore, into the back seatof Georgia's car.
"So, we want to know what happened." Jessica demanded immediately. "Please tell me you didn't punjab anyone, Erik..."
Erik shook his head, "No, I hit him over the head with a piece of wood. He'll be fine."
"You did what?" cried Carmen, "That's barbaric!"
"Well, I didn't have much chance to find anything more sophisticated... Or would you rather I'd just left you there?"
"No, I'm glad you beat him to a pulp. I really worry about what he might have done with me after he knockedout... He was so weird. When I turned around, he was right there... smelling me."
Georgia made a loud gagging sound, "Eew! Spazzy stalking sex offender!"
Erik couldn't help but nod. He remembered all too well the man he'd shared his cell with... He certainly didn't anyone like that after Carmen.
Back in the safety of their room, Carmen relayed everything she could remember of her conversation with the scary pale dude to Erik.
"So, if I understand correctly, these people brought me here by some sort of evil magic as some sort of odd stunt, and now they plan to make use of me as a human sacrifice?"
Carmen nodded. "You make it sound like such an uncommon thing..."
Erik missed the sarcasm, "This sort of thing happens often! What sort of demented world do you live in!"
Carmen shook her head, "Ah, Erik, when will you learn that a good twenty percent of everything I say is sarcastic?"
"Liar. I've never heard you use sarcasm before now."
"Whatever... Hey, do you wanna watch a movie?"
Erik shrugged, "I don't know? What is a movie?"
"It's like a play, only you watch it on that black, shiny, box over there and it looks a lot more like real life than the plays you're used to... They can be like operas, too, I guess, but I don't think I have any decent musicals with me." she inspected her DVD library for any musical that wasn't about anything that would but Erik in a bad mood, but found nothing, so she grabbed a handful of movies. "Well, I'll let you pick."
Erik looked at the covers for a second, then chose a movie randomly.
"Ah ha..." smirked Carmen, trying hard to hold back fits of laughter, "The Lizzie McGuire movie, Erik? I really don't think you'd like that one..."
Erik looked at the movie he'd selected for the first time. It had a picture of an annoyingly gleeful looking blonde girl on the cover... "Er.. Yes, I agree." he muttered "So much for the values of random selection." This time, he actually looked at the covers as he chose...
"Ah, the Lord of the Rings, eh? Much better... Although maybe someday I will make you watch the Lizzie McGuire Movie. I'm curious as to how long you'd survive before the excessive cuteness caused you to implode. My current guess is about seven seconds."
Erik blinked. Carmen was a very odd girl...
And so ends our beloved ninth chapter. Perhaps it may seem that all is well, for now at least, but someone has gotten wind of Carmen's injuries... someone that was supposed to be out of the picture for several more chapters... Who is it? What will they do? Did they bring me any food? Tune in next time to find out!
And review... I really, really, like reviews!