(A/N toVagrant Candy: The threats were fun to write. –grins- Anywhoodle, don't pity Erik too awful much! Sure he looks really nasty, but he did bring it on himself a bit. Plus, it's not all going to bad for him. –wink-

To charity: Oh, I'm sure you're going to –love- this next chapter if you want to find that out that bit of information. I hope the title isn't too much of a giveaway. –winkwink-

To LovinRKO: I modeled Jennet after myself in a lot of ways. I mean, come on. Think about it a little bit. If you see a grimy disgusting murder in your bedroom, the last thing you'd want to do was nurse him back to health. I mean, if you didn't understand his past. Jennet sure doesn't. –grins- Trust me, later Erik and Jennet will be butting heads. And I almost feel bad making him so pitiful. –tear- STUPID STUPID JENNET!

I probably won't be able to update for a while… I'm going to my father's house for the weekend, and I have to work everyday next week but Wednesday. 8am-6pm. Tough hours for a thirteen year old? I think so. –sigh-)

Chapter nine: Deserved Illness

The task of cleaning Erik had been Jennet's worst nightmare. She didn't even want to touch him, let alone bathe him. Many gaggings and breaks for fresh air had been involved, but eventually she had succeeded. His smell had been worse than his nauseating appearance, and if he was her responsibility…

All the while she had cursed the very ground Madame Giry walked upon, muttering curses and roughly scrubbing Erik's skin without sympathy. He deserved to be unconscious, an unfortunate doll lying limply in her hands. If that bloody Antoinette hadn't threatened to be rid of them, she would have killed Erik right then and there in her bathtub. He was a filthy murderer, emphasis on filthy.

Thinking of Anika, she had refrained. The young woman was walking down the long winding road of recovery, each time she woke managing to keep down food and smile weakly. Jennet had kept Erik far away from the recovering woman, even going so far as to close the curtains around her four-posted bed. She didn't want the living corpse to frighten Anika into a relapse.

Speaking of the vile beast, Erik was situated once again on the daybed. His long legs were hanging off the edge slightly, but Jennet could truly care less. The man hadn't yet awoken from his arrival, and she reluctantly checked for a pulse once an hour. She would walk over solemnly, her hand reaching for his wrist with a slight tremble. As soon as she felt the slight flutter under his cold rough skin on her own, Jennet claimed him living and scurried away from the daybed.

As deeply as Erik was sleeping, he seemed to have woken many times. His eyelids would snap open, only the whites of his eyes showing as his pupils rolled back into his skull. It was as if he was dreaming horrible nightmares; his mouth working wordlessly as his entire body twitched in convulsions. Erik had done this once as Jennet was checking his pulse for the first time, and she had screamed for dear life. Of coarse she did not know what was happening, and when he latched onto her arm she had struggled. Finally escaping his grasp with a heaving bellow, she had collapsed onto her bed beside Anika sobbing into the pillows. What a waking nightmare.

To say the least, Erik was quite the sight for sore eyes. His marred skin was stretched over the bones of his face tight and his cheekbones were prominent against his sunken eyes. Obviously there was not a time that Erik had achieved a healthy complexion, but the ashen look of his skin made him almost corpse-like. Jennet could hardly look at him without feeling she was about to retch, and had begun to avoid the general corner of the room by the daybed and the wide-open window but one dreadful time an hour.

Jennet was beginning to think he would just sleep forever and she wouldn't have to deal with him besides the ridiculous subconscious fits and spasms. No such luck I'm afraid.

xXx

She was there, his beautiful angel. Clothed in nothing but the purest white, she floated gracefully in the clear clean waters. Her hair was suspended in a halo about her head, gently caressing her ivory skin and rose red lips. They were lips no other had ever touched, never been kiss-roughened and robbed of their beauty. He was there too, but there was no beautiful image to accompany his being. He was simply there, a dark bruise on a seemingly perfect image. He reached to her, his lips parting to release one harmonious word.

Christine.

Suddenly her eyelids snapped open; a fire deep as death burning within them. Dark murky mud ascended from the depths, swirling up her robs of white and encasing her in a prison of muck. They pulled her down deep, the water dark as night. He could no longer see his angel, hear her voice, or envision her near him. She was erased permanently from his being, their souls confined in totally different realms. He screamed in agony as he realized there was no purpose to his thoughts. He did not know what he was thinking about, he knew not what wasn't there. It tortured him in its absence, roiling in a subliminal chamber of his mind. She was forever gone, but who was she?

It was early afternoon, sunlight streaming in the window and casting ghastly shadows over Erik's body. Jennet was just about to give Anika another dose of medication, and the woman was lying in bed with her eyes wide open. Thankfully, she couldn't yet catch sight of Erik, as that side's curtain was drawn shut.

As the clock chimed eleven, Erik sat straight up in bed. Dull gray eyes whipped around the room, as if he couldn't find anything to focus on. He did not know where he was, why there was no darkness clinging to his vision. Turning towards the window, Erik felt his tender face exposed to light for the first time in years. His ear-curdling scream pealed about the chamber as he scrambled off the daybed, streaking towards the cool dark opposite corner. Halfway there, his injured leg gave out, sending the dazed confused man sprawling on the floor. This brought on a painful fit of spasms, and Erik clutched at his stomach moaning in agony.

Jennet had dropped the spoon of medicine at the scream, and was now staring dumbstruck at the man whom had been virtually lifeless the moment before. What was going on? She took a step forward at Erik's groans, hoping to quiet him before Anika would notice. Sadly, it was much too late. She had sat up in bed, crawling towards the curtain as a curious cat would. Jennet could only watch as she pulled back the fabric, her eyes growing large as kettle brims as she watched him struggle.

Mangled and crying, tangled and dieing. Anika stared at the man she hadn't even known was there. Surprisingly, she did not cry out in horror as Jennet had. She seemed enthralled, bringing her feet down to touch the cold hard floor. Slipping down further, the young woman lowered her entire body onto the ground. Weakly she crawled forward; not even wincing as Erik turned his marred skeletal face to hers. Anika looked at him with pity, knowing what horror physical pain had been for her. No longer did her throat burn with agony, but she had yet to give it the ultimate test.

"Who are you?"

She said softly, her voice scratching with disuse. Erik closed his eyes once again, willing her not to look at him. He was a monster. Anika reached for his face regardless of the cold shoulder she was recieving, stroking his unscarred cheek soothingly. He was a pitiful creature, and if Jennet wouldn't help him, she would. Speaking of Jennet, the womanwas still paralyzed with surprise and fear, and her voice caught in her throat as she tried to object.

Erik flinched as Anika stroked his cheek, turning his head around to face the other direction. He was disgusted with what he was about to do, but curled up clutching at his abdomen he could hardly help it. His insides were roiling with pain, and he reluctantly retched all over the floor. The last thing he remembered was a soft smooth hand on his heaving chest and screams of outrage echoing in a rough unattractive voice.

(A/N: Read and review please! -grin-)