"That fate which condemns me
To wallow in blood . . ." –Track Down This Murderer
Chapter 9: Modifications on Perfection
Erik seethed as he drew up the curtains to his bed, in which lay the sleeping Nasrin, her head resting gently on a silk pillow. He snarled at her pacified facial expression, wanting to shatter it with a firm slap across the face. He raised his hand, readying to strike her from slumber.
She opened her eyes, as if planning his next move, and smiled. "I take it you slept well. I did."
He snarled and his upper lip quivered. "You defiant little imp! You took me out of my bed, putting me on the floor, just so you could prove me wrong. "
"Perhaps if you had let me sleep with you, this wouldn't have happened. I could have used a body beside me to share heat with. It was slightly chilly last night." She twirled her hair between her fingers, looking up at him through doe-like eyes.
"After your disrespect last night, I couldn't have allowed it," he replied stiffly.
"So you are saying that if I had not suggested that you purchase a pocket-watch you would have let me sleep in your bed?" She snorted. "You condemned me to sleep on a grimy floor because I made a suggestion?" She shook her head. "Pitiful."
"I wouldn't be mocking me if I were you," he warned.
"Well, obviously you are not me, and you can't strike me."
"Are you daring me to try?" he asked, his face twisted into a look of shock.
"Interpret it as you will," she said, rolling out of his bed and stretching, her mouth gaping wide as she yawned. Her skirt was urged up as she slid off the bed and her slim legs were lit with the faint light's tender glow.
Erik shook with fury at her complacent facial expression. He lunged at her, his eyes ablaze.
Nasrin grinned at his predictable advance and leaped nimbly to the side, narrowly dodging his unbridled attack. "Now now," she cooed. Her eyes glittered with vigor. "Don't be too hasty. You don't know what I'm capable of; or what I have done in the past."
Erik didn't listen and threw himself at her again. Once more, she moved to the side, gracefully catching him in her embrace, pinning his arms to his side. He growled angrily and thrashed. She was remarkably strong, and was able to contain him, despite his unrest.
"Stop," she commanded. "I only slept in your bed for a night. I didn't kill anyone . . ."
Erik let out a hoarse laugh. "You think that you killing some one would make me angry? I took my first life when I was about ten or eleven."
"Really? My first and only murder was very recent." She became very pensive.
"And who was the unlucky one? How did they die?"
Nasrin smiled mischievously. "I will not tell. I am sworn to eternal silence. No one knows who did it but me. That is how I would like it to stay."
"Alluring rose, your mysterious air and your strategic brilliance are the only things keeping you from destruction by my hand." Erik's voice was quivering with contained rage. He touched her cheek on the word 'hand' and his temper began to quell.
She smiled and released him. "Then I will be sure to remain secretive. For now, let us set up the chandelier. I will feel more at ease once the pieces are in place."
"First, my dear. A question I have been meaning to ask you."
"Yes?" she asked calmly.
"You were taken by dancers at the age of seven, am I correct?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any prior education? Are you literate?"
Nasrin smiled warmly. "Of course I am literate, my dancing troupe consisted of several educated women who taught us. They were taught against the law, but that doesn't matter; the deed is done." She shrugged.
"What are you educated in?"
Nasrin's eyebrows bunched in thought. "Well, I know Farsi of course, French, Latin and Italian. I am beginning to pick up on that new language in the West. What is it called again? Oh yes, English. I know math, history, some earth sciences and herbal remedies. Architecture is also something I am well versed in. Let's see . . . I know some types of self-defense methods. . ."
Erik's eyes were wide and he stammered, "Were . . . you educated in anything feminine?"
Nasrin laughed heartily. "Of course, I can cook, clean, sew, garden . . . Oh! . . ." She smiled mischievously. "I know what answer you are looking for. I was taught at an early age that pleasing my husband was the most important job I would ever have. So yes, I know how to please you."
"Doesn't that fall under the categories of cooking and cleaning though?" Erik asked, not catching the vixen-like gleam in her eyes.
Nasrin crossed her arms, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Not in the way I am thinking of it. I am well versed in various ways to please you . . . sexually, Erik!"
Blood rushed to his face and he felt immediately uneasy. Never before had he ever been offered something of this nature. He began to, invariably, stammer. "I . . . I . . . never meant . . . to . . . to imply that!"
Nasrin shrugged nonchalantly. "Why do you stammer so? You admitted it, you wouldn't join with anyone other than the woman you loved; ergo this situation will not arise again, will it?"
"N . . . no," he mumbled.
"Good. There, is your curiosity satiated for the moment, or would you like to know the more intimate details of what I can do?" she whispered seductively, gloating in the look of sheer mortification on Erik's face.
"That's quite all right," Erik breathed, "let me get some rope for the chandelier." He began to walk away. But he suddenly stopped, turning towards her. "Speaking of rope, I should teach you how to make my trademark weapon, the Punjab lasso. If you ever need to defend yourself, don't hesitate to use it."
Nasrin smiled. "I don't need to learn how to do that. I already know how."
Erik immediately got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "How?"
"When you were younger, and in that gypsy fair, you came to Persia to perform tricks for our shah. My teacher, Azara, attended your show; she said that you were called the "Lover of Trapdoors." She taught me to make and use the Punjab lasso effectively, saying that with a face like mine, I might need to use it."
"Have you used it?" he asked cautiously.
She grinned. "Yes. I have also made some modifications to it, making it deadlier if you will."
"Really?" Erik asked in disbelief. "How?"
"I changed the knot, making it slightly tighter. That way, even if you do keep your hand at the level of your eyes, your hand will not save you." She took a rope from Erik's hand and wrapped it around itself until it formed a tight noose. She ran her hands around the loop of the noose and smirked. "Watch." Nasrin threw the lasso across the lair, catching a candelabrum in the noose and pulled. The rope tightened and Nasrin yanked it off the floor. The candelabrum was hoisted in the air. During the peak of its flight, Nasrin wrapped the rope end around a beam in the ceiling. The unfortunate brass ornament dangled uselessly above the lake.
"See? It can withstand more pressure."
"Very interesting. And what did you do differently?"
"I tied an extra knot below the original knot; it makes it impossible to save yourself completely, not to mention less time to react and more time to struggle as you dangles above the ground." She pointed to the tiny knot.
"Interesting. In that case, come, we must quickly fix up the chandelier. I have enough rope for both of us to use." Erik motioned to the boat. "Let us go."
"All right, I'm coming." Nasrin changed into her faux phantom attire and hurried behind him. She leaped into the boat, splashing him with a spray of water. He looked down at her with fake annoyance wiping some droplets from his mask.
"Should I expect more ethereal singing from you on this trip?" he mocked.
"Only if your sensual voice can provoke me," she replied.
"Perhaps I can," Erik proposed.
"You will," she assured, looking up at him with enthralling composure.
Erik clambered on the boat and pushed off, rowing once again across the underground lake, a tightly coiled pile of rope at his feet. He peered around at his squalid home. How could a place as dank as this cause any type of verbal or physical arousal? It seemed impossible, but yet there Nasrin lay in the boat on her back, her chest rising and falling in deep breathes and small sighs of contentment escaping the confines of her mouth.
"What would you do if I asked you to sing for me?" Erik asked daringly.
"I am more adept to singing with my body than my voice. And once again, we are on a boat, a small boat." She looked up at him, daring him to diminish the space between them. But he was able to contain himself, though she didn't know how close he was to losing control.
Fortunately or not, the boat docked just after her comment and Erik leaped out.
"Come," he called in a shuddering voice, "my little Fire Rose, make with me a plan to go down in history."
Nasrin stumbled to her feet and took his outstretched hand in hers, smiling in a beautiful trance.
A/N: Thank you to all my lovely reviewers!
DragonheartRAB: Rambling is very yay, I find, lol. Yes, Nasrin is a sneaky little devil, but that's why I love her. (nods) I'm glad you like the whole "Nasrin figuring out Erik" thing. (shrugs) I put it in there only to make sure that readers understood that Nasrin understands, (doesn't like, but understands) how he feels about sex and Christine. Poor Nasrin, so alone! Well, I will certainly try to change that. Thanks for your comment!
xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx: Lol, maybe you and I are the only ones who found the pocket watch part humorous, but oh well. (shrugs) Glad you liked the chappy. Here is your update! Huzzah!
Videociraptor: Yes, I did spell pterodactyl right! (celebrates) And yes, Erik kinda lost it there. . (nervous laughter) Lol, I heart you Vi-vi-kins! For you, I update! (trumpet fanfare) (rains candy)
Thephantomscookie: Thanks you, lol. I actually didn't think of your reasoning for the chandelier, though it is quite logical, and, knowing Nasrin, it's something she would consider. That murderous little imp. Yes, I don't want to sound like I'm bragging or anything, but I do think what I said about Erik was true. (nods) that's at least how I see him. As for this being an E/C fic . . . it isn't, so yay! OH! The phantom naked eating chocolate chip cookies? Have mercy on me! (bows) the vision is almost TOO heavenly. (droooooooooooooools all over keyboard) Ew . . . (cleans it up) Huzzah! Here is your update! Thanks for the review!
Jessiejo: Why hello! Thank you for the marvelous review! (bows) And I am glad this chapter could answer your question. (I am assuming it does . . . if my memory serves me correctly Erik surmises the whole floor thing.) Here is your update!
Maska: Yes, Nasrin obviously loves Erik. Poor thing can't even hide it! Erik does have some feelings for her, though they aren't nearly as strong as they are for Christine. Right now, he just enjoys her company, respects her for respecting him, and thinks she's pretty. (shrugs) Thanks for the review! Here is your update!
Maidenhair: It's all right if you were disappointed with this chapter. (It isn't one of my favorites either personally, but watcha gonna do?) I did read Leroux's novel, and I do remember Erik's insanity resembling something of autism, so I know what you mean. The Erik in this story is more 2004 movie based, where he doesn't recoil from human contact, but in a way yearns for it. I know the 2004 movie wasn't the most accurate representation of the Phantom, but it is the most accessible to me at the moment, which would allow me to see it multiple times in order to get a clear picture of my story, since it goes hand in hand in a way. The "I just lost control" thing. I noticed it yesterday and just slapped myself in the face for putting it in. Sorry, modern stuff kinda slips in once and a while and makes it difficult for me to filter it out. I agree with you totally on that issue. Thanks for your constructive criticism, I appreciate it! Hope this chapter wasn't as much of a disappointment! (crosses fingers) (becomes pensive) "The Story of Chippy the Opera Squirrel" . . . wow, perhaps I should read it, just b/c the title is quite random.