Thank you Fleetyfillyhpchic for reviewing! Love your story, by the way. Keep writing!
Now, I'm on my hands and knees... Please review! Wow, I guess it's when an author has to beg her readers for feedback. Sorry if it's boring right now, but it picks up.
As a matter of fact, it picks up in this chapter. So please, please, please tell me what you think!
Enjoy!
XxXxX
Inspector Lachappelle steepled his fingers. He looked sympathetically at the grieving parents sitting in front of his desk.
"I'll send out a search party to investigate the town and the woods and down by the river," he told them. "I'm sorry, that's really the best we can do."
Christine sobbed in Raoul's arms. "We understand, sir…" she wept.
"This man you believe took her. What did you say his name was again? Alec?"
"Erik," Raoul corrected.
"No last name?"
"None that we know of."
"Assuming this Erik did kidnap your daughter, do you know of any place they might have gone?"
Christine sniffled. "He has a home is Paris. They might have gone there."
Lachappelle whistled. "Paris is a long way off. And it's a pretty big city, too. Any place in specific?"
Christine looked up at Raoul, pleadingly. He shook his head, ever so slightly.
"We don't know."
Lachappelle nodded and stood up. "If the man can be found, we'll find him. However, you did mention that she seemed unhappy at school. You know how children can be. Perhaps she ran away on her own, in which case I can almost guarantee that she will come back in a day or two."
"Of course," Raoul said. "We thank you for your patience, sir. You have been a great help at this most… difficult time."
Lachappelle moved to the door and held it open for them. "Au revoir, Monsieur… Madame…"
"Au revoir," Raoul replied as he led Christine out to their wagon. Once they were in the wagon, Christine turned on Raoul.
"Why didn't you tell him? You know Erik would have taken her back to the Opera Populaire! Why didn't you make him send his men there?"
Raoul gritted his teeth. "If we told him that much, the rest of the truth would have come out… The truth about who we really are! We have spent over ten years trying to escape that past! I wasn't about to ruin all of that!"
"I don't care! I want her back! I want our child back!"
"Don't you mean your child? Or do you not know why Erik took her? Do you not know that… that…" Raoul broke down. "…That that monster is Marie-Eve's real father? Oh, Christine! Why? Why? Why did you do it? With that… that animal?"
Christine wept bitterly. "I didn't want to. Raoul, he made me do it! I begged him to stop. I was on the floor begging… but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop!"
Raoul held her tightly. "Why didn't you tell me? After all these years, why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to hurt you," Christine whispered. "Oh, Raoul, he was so ashamed! He's a like a child. He couldn't know the consequences of his actions. He… he just… he just wanted to be loved…"
Raoul sighed. "Don't get me wrong. I pity the poor creature. But I simply cannot condone his actions. He's guilty of the most heinous of crimes… murder, theft, stalking… and now kidnapping!"
"Raoul…" Christine whispered. "No matter what he's done, I know he won't hurt Marie-Eve."
"But in order to get her back, you know what we have to do…"
Christine nodded. "We have to go back to Paris…"
XxXxX
Erik was astonished at how quickly Marie-Eve was learning. She was like a little sponge, soaking up every bit of knowledge Erik provided to her. Her voice joined his in song now… There was not a lovelier duet in the rest of the world, Erik was certain.
"La nuit, dans mon sommeil," Marie-Eve sang. "Se glisse un homme. Sa voix éclate en moi, sa voix me somme. Serait-ce un rêve encore, mais cette fois, je sais que le Fantôme de l'Opera est là, en moi."
Erik pulled her onto his lap as he sang. "Ce soir, la scène est mise. Nos chants se mêlent. Ma main, mes mots, ma voix, je t'ensorcelle. Et si ton doux regard, se perd parfois, tu sais que le Fantôme de l'Opera est là, en toi."
"Ceux qui vous voient en face, sont pris d'effroi," she returned. "Je suis un masque pour vous."
"Je suis ta voix."
Marie-Eve smiled as she snuggled up against his chest. She pulled his strong arms around her and rested her head against his shoulder. They were the very picture of a loving father and his daughter. Marie-Eve glanced up at him and began singing a new song. It was a song he had taught her much earlier, and she had liked it very much.
"Née dans l'ombre, l'émotion de serre. Dans le noir, se jouent nos vraies chimères. Cède à la jouissance, si belle et sans défense…" She smiled. "Sing with me, Papa!" she pleaded.
How could he say no? "Sans bruit, la nuit, vient de te surprendre. La nuit t'instruit, trépidante et tendre. Quitte la lumiére, fais ton deuil du jour vulgaire. Oublie tout de son eclat cruel et froid. La nuit, vois-tu, ne chante que pour toi."
Marie-Eve began singing again. "Grâce à moi, tu sauras ce que ton âme exprime. Par moi seul, ouvre-toi à la parole. Que ma voix, te transporte loin du sol, et qu'au loin ton esprit s'élève puis vole…"
"Piano, piano, ma chanson va naître," he sang as he pulled her close. "Cède-lui, fais-lui, succomber ton être. Ose ouvrir ton cœur, laisse au loin tes moindres peurs. Ces ténèbres, on sait que nul ne les combat, ténèbres qui ne chantent que pour toi."
"Laisse-moi te confier la clé d'un autre monde. Laisse au loin ce qui fait ta vie là-haut. Livre-toi aux puissances de la nuit. Promets-moi que tu paieras ce prix." She had hit every note perfectly.
Erik hesitated, then dared to reach up and push a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, allowing his finger to caress her cheek as he did so. She smiled at the contact. Erik decided to push his luck and ran his fingers through her hair. Marie-Eve did not protest.
"Papa?" she whispered. "Finish the song? Please?"
He complied. "Flotte et flâne au fil de mes caresses. Touche-moi, donne-moi, jusqu'à ton ivresse. Que la nuit culmine, que ton être obscur s'incline face aux notes que ma muse impose à moi, ces notes qui ne chantent qui pour toi…" He glanced down at her. Steeling his nerve, he leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead. The feel of her warm skin against his lips sent a shudder through his body. She peeked up at him with smiling eyes.
He had kissed Marie-Eve.
He had kissed his daughter.
And she simply smiled. She did not scorn him, did not run, did not scream, did not cry, did not draw back in disgust… That's what anyone else would have done. No one could ever want the love of a monster.
But he was no monster to her… He was the Angel of Music… And she loved him… She called him Papa…
"Dans ma nuit j'ai attendu ta voix… Désormais ne chante que pour moi…"
Suddenly, Marie-Eve's stomach growled loudly.
Erik suddenly realized that she hadn't eaten since she came here. He glanced at the clock. They had been singing together for hours! And yet, it felt as though it had only been a short while since he began teaching her.
"Are you hungry child?" Erik asked, noticing for the first time that he was famished.
Marie-Eve nodded. "Yes… I didn't even notice it until now!"
Erik got up from his place at the organ. There was a little bit of food left from the trip, but not much. Erik took the money he had made from selling the stallion and headed for the boat.
"I am going to the surface to buy some food," he informed her. "I will be back shortly…"
Erik turned and stepped gracefully into the boat, pushing away and leaving Marie-Eve behind. He glanced over his shoulder to where she still stood at the shore. Even before she was out of his sight, he began worrying for her. What if she felt ill while he was gone and he wasn't there to help her? What if she fell into the lake or hurt herself? What if she got lonely? What if she changed her mind and decided to leave while he was gone? What if someone came and found her and he wasn't there to stop them?
Erik shook his head. Was this what it felt like to be a father? A constant flow of "what ifs?"
Erik reprimanded himself for being overprotective and continued his journey to the surface. She was ten years old! Nothing would happen to her in the twenty minutes it would take for him to buy supper!
Erik reached the surface and made his way towards the market, keeping to the back-alleys and staying in the shadows. He thought about the time he had spent with Marie-Eve. It was more enjoyable than he could have ever imagined. Marie-Eve adored him! And yet, a nagging concern tugged at his heart.
What if his daughter was just like her mother? What if she decided that she wanted to know her angel? What if she became curious as to what lay beyond the mask? What if she, just like her mother, unmasked him and unveiled the monster beneath?
Damned "what-ifs!"
What would happen when Marie-Eve found out that he was no angel? Would she still love him? Would she still want to stay?
He knew he couldn't lie to her forever. He had to tell her the truth. And the sooner he did, the better.
Erik came to a decision. He would tell her the truth as soon as he got back. She may hate him, likely. She may want to leave him, true. But he had to respect her enough to tell her. She had the right to know.
Erik's thoughts were interrupted when a sharp blow to the back of his head knocked him off of his feet. Facedown in the dust, he became acutely aware that several men were surrounding him.
"Well, boys," a familiar voice said loudly. "Let's have a look-see!"
That voice… No! Why? Why now? After all these years!
A hand reached down and roughly turned Erik over onto his back. Then, to his horror, someone reached down and tore his mask away from his face. Erik reach up and tried to cover his bared visage, but it was impossible to hide his badly deformed features. He heard moans of disgust from the men surrounding him.
"You were right, Babet!" the same voice declared happily. "It's the Devil's Child, it is! How do you do, Derek?"
Erik's eyes focussed and stared into the face of a man whom he remembered from what seemed like a lifetime ago. A face he had grown up with…
"The name is Erik…" he informed the man coldly. "Monsieur Boisvert…"
Monsieur Boisvert. This was the man who had once exploited Erik. Years ago… Erik had been locked up in a cage like an animal… Forced to perform for a paying audience, beaten mercilessly… All a part of Boisvert's travelling fair… Gypsies… Javert had often been mistaken for Erik's master… No… Javert was nothing more than his keeper… Boisvert's assistant. Although Javert liked to beat Erik on many occasions, Boisvert was the one he truly feared. And oh, how he wished that it were Boisvert that he had killed instead of Javert! As a child, he was certain that the man was evil personified. Now, as a man, he still had his suspicions…
Erik had escaped the Hell that was Boisvert's fair. He couldn't have gotten away sooner. He had forgotten the man completely, until now…
Boisvert smiled a horrible smile and Erik saw that the man had lost a few teeth since they last saw each other. He struck Erik across the face with his cane, drawing blood.
"I lost a lot of money when you took off," Boisvert informed him. "You were my star attraction."
"Forgive me for feeling no sympathy!" Erik growled. One of the other men dealt him a sharp kick in the ribs, leaving Erik clutching his side as he bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to cry out.
Boisvert crouched down beside him. "I hear you've been a bad boy since we last saw each other," Boisvert spoke as though Erik were merely a child.
And with each passing moment, Erik was beginning to feel more and more like a child – the child he had been so many years ago when this man owned his freedom.
"What's this about a ghost that haunted the Opera Populaire?" Boisvert asked, holding up an old newspaper clipping. "Eye-witnesses say he wore a mask. One late Joseph Buquet said he was hideously deformed. Sounds a lot like you…" Boisvert folded up the clipping and put it back in his coat pocket. "Monsieur Buquet was allegedly murdered by this Phantom… Later, a Signor Piangi died at his hands… My, but you've seemed to develop a certain taste for blood! Did killing Javert incite some wicked hunger in you?"
"Go to Hell!" Erik shouted at him.
"Go to Hell?" Boisvert laughed. "I suppose I'll meet you there… Murderer!"
"Stop it!"
"You know what else I've heard?" Boisvert grinned. "I've heard that some girl who lives in a small town outside the city has been kidnapped. Her parents say she was taken by a man from Paris named 'Erik'. No last name! The police are crawling all over looking for the girl and her abductor!" Boisvert leaned in close. "I don't know where the girl is… but I'm quite certain I've found the one who took her!"
"What do you want from me?" Erik's voice sounded so small… so much like a child's.
"There's a big price on your head," Boisvert informed him. "I could turn you over to the police right now and receive a handsome reward… But I have an idea that I think will be profitable for us both. I'll take you back to my fair and keep you safe from the police, while in the process make a daily profit off of your talent… and your face." Boisvert smiled. "What say you to that?"
Erik swore loudly at him in Persian. Boisvert laughed. "I knew you'd agree!"
The other men descended on Erik like a pack of vultures. They punched and kicked and beat him down. Erik fought for his life, but there were too many of them. One man picked up a stone a slammed it into Erik's skull.
Erik fell back, barely conscious. His arms and legs were bound and he was flung onto the back of a horse. Before he lost consciousness completely, he heard Boisvert laugh to the other men. "The people of Paris paid well to see the Devil's Child! I wonder how much more they'll pay to see the city's own Phantom of the Opera!"
"Marie-Eve…" Erik whispered. Then his world went black.
XxXxX
Oh, the horror! Just remember, this fic is based mostly upon the musical. I've just added a few aspects from the book, which will probably be inacurate, but that's OK 'cause it's my story and I have the ultimate power! Muhahahaha!
Just in case you guys were wondering, Erik and Marie-Eve were singing "Phantom of the Opera" and "Music of the Night" in French. Man, I love the fact the new movie DVD includes French subtitles! Yay!
Oh, and just a friendly reminder... Review or else I'll get my buddy Erik and we'll go Victorian on yo' hiney!
Remember... any female who reviews gets five minutes alone with Erik in a dark closet... Muhahahahaha!