AN - Short Chapter, but I already have uploaded the next two so it's all about timing. When this part of the book is finished, I'm going to have a response page, to respond to whatever anyone has to say, it could be short, it could be long, but I promise it will be accompanied with the first chapter in book two.

dechangsluv - Thank you for responding to my response. I'm quite pleased that we actually had a debate without resorting to name calling, its pretty hard to watch on this site sometimes.

Aisalynn- Thanks for the marshmellow! You deserve a cookie for figuring out the other D and A. Thank you for reviewing and your opinion. Every writer loves new reviews.

to all my other wonderful reviewers, thank you for continuing to read my story!

Chapter Nineteen: The Death of a Nightingale

Past the point
of no return -
no going back now:

Claude smiled at the damaged he has caused and picked up another branch he could throw in the house. He found an adequate one and once again tore a strip of clothing off his poor rags. Remembering his other flask of alcohol in his sock, he bent down and grabbed it. This time he aimed for the Vicomtess' room. He was successful for he heard the terrified screams of the rich wanton upstairs, or so he liked to call her. He watched as the flames rose higher in a most consuming rate. By this time, he was really getting into it, remembering his promises to his dead brother.

"This is for Damien! This is for Aimee! AND THIS IS FOR BOGART!" He said throwing another chunk of wood in. The sound of glass shattering could not drowned out the screams of an infant girl crying.

Suddenly, as though he woke from a nightmare, Claude's face paled. He had forgotten about the child being involved. Yes, it was true he had known of the de Chagny heir, but now he also recalled why he was doing this. He was doing this for the children, because children were innocent, they should never be exploited too early to the realities of life. Now he was trying to murder one of those babes's he so passionately was fighting for.

"Uncle Claude, watch me run!" Damien cried excitedly to his uncle who had shown up days ago. They were all standing outside the winery in the sun, watching it fall against the horizon. It had been a rainy day, and they had spent the majority of it cooped up in the soon to be sold building. Bogart and he had decided it be best to keep the plans as quiet as possible. Therefore, his niece and nephew believed their uncle was just visiting.

"Uncle Claude, watch, I can run too! See." Aimee cried, circling Damien. Damien laughed and reached out to his younger sister and picked her up. She squealed in delight as her older brother spun with her atop his shoulder.

"Damien, put your sister down, you are not big enough to be carrying her around like that." Bogart yelled over the cries of the three year old.

"Aww… Papa, you don't mean that. You just don't think I'm old enough!" the six year old pouted placing his sister down.

"Whoa!" she moaned and then flopped down in a puddle from dizziness.

"Damien, look what you did, go clean your sister up." Bogart said half-heartedly. Damien smiled a toothy grin before turning to his sister.

"Come Aimee, let's clean you up." Giggling, she reached up and placed her tiny hand within her brothers and he lifted her from the mud, hand in hand, they walked into the winery.

"You really shouldn't be so hard on them Bogart, they are merely children." Claude told his brother quietly, as they sipped from a shared flask.

"When you have children, I will allow you to question how I raise mine, but never interfere with mine again." Bogart half snarled at his brother.

"Brother," Claude chuckled, "Do not take out your anxiety on me, do not fear. The plan with the de Chagny woman will work, I feel it."

Bogart sighed. "I wish I could think of something else just as drastic to open the Vicomte's eyes. I hate him. I do not care if he suffers. Still, I do not like dragging women and children into a man's fight. Yet, this is the way it must be. The Vicomte does not care about my children and what they will eat tomorrow or the next day. He's willing to throw them out in the street, two beautiful children. It will be only a few years before Aimee became a whore, a few more before she'd have no teeth left from the abuse. That was how momma was when Audric had no money."

"Father did the best he could, you know that." Claude told his brother. True, they both resented the old man… he had not been a stable provider, and the majority of his life a drunk. However, he had been the one to help Bogart get the job managing the winery in the first place. It had been open for a few years, before Damien and Aimee ever knew the shame of being homeless.

"Bogart, if anything happens, I promise you, I will protect the children."

Dropping his flask he began to stumble/run away from the monstrous creation that he was the artist of. He didn't need to look back to see how the de Chagny estate lit up the night sky, he could feel it's heat already.

( ' ) '
-

The bridge
is crossed, so stand
and watch it burn . . .

Erik ran as fast as he could from his home towards the cries that rang from the estate a kilometre below. His heart ached as he heard more glass crunch and Danielle begin her wails as well.

When he finally could see the home, he felt like throwing up. He couldn't remember a time when he was more helpless or paralyzed from fear.

He looked left and saw a man staggering away and quickly had to make a choice, to catch the bastard capable of this heinous crime, or try to save Christine and Danielle. He stood in front of the house, rooted to the spot he stood. The harder he willed his limbs to move the number they felt. Bile burned up his throat, the burn it caused near his heart making him gasp raggedly.

He watched as Michelle came running frantically towards him.

"Monsieur! Monsieur! It happened all so sudden, Mme is missing and I cannot find Charlotte. The stairs are on fire, ON FIRE MONSIEUR! I cannot climb them, and the baby, she wont stop her cries!" She was sobbing almost falling over as she cried to him. Slowly he propped her up. He couldn't think, he didn't have time, so he let his body guide his actions as he ran towards the flaming home.

( ' ) '
-

You have brought me
to that moment
where words run dry,
to that moment
where speech
disappears
into silence,
silence. .

Christine had heard the glass break below in the house and lay still in her bed in fear. Was someone trying to break into her home? What was she to do? If it were a robber she was sure that Erik had heard the deafening crash and would be to her rescue any moment, all she had to do was lay still...

Lay still and wait...

After what felt like hours later another explosion of glass rang in the air, this time to close for comfort.

She didn't even realize she had been screaming until she took a sharp intake of breath and ripped the duvet off her body.

Smoke was filling the room and Christine was confused. Where was it coming from? What was going on? Where was Erik?

What are you going to do? the child inside her was screaming. Curl up in the corner and wait for Erik to save you, to protect you, to take care of you, the scared voice kept telling her.

Before she could listen and succumb to the small cry, she heard a more important one. The screams of Danielle woke her from her selfish confusion. Her motherly instincts began to function once more, and she remembered what was going on. The room was on fire, all the rooms were probably at this point, and if anyone was going to save her, it had to be herself. It was that she had to save Dani right now. She had to get herself and her daughter out of this death trap.

"Hold on Danielle, Maman's coming!" Christine yelled towards the child's nursery and began to swiftly walk out of her room.

Once she was out of her room, she heard the front door burst open. Stopping in the hall, she tried to see who it was through the thick smoke. It was then, that out of nowhere, a large wooden beam fell on her, crushing her under its extreme weight.