Another installment! More to come, I assure you :)
Thanks to my two faithful reviewers. It is for you that I write :).
my-echo - Tick tock, tick tock! Only two hours left in Saturday!
The shadows were welcoming and familiar to Erik. He had created them, in many ways. The labyrinth that would so easily confuse anyone else was home to him, and he found his way through the tunnels with ease. Within minutes, he had located the source of disturbance.
A snare had been triggered, and the cleverly twisted rope had fallen from the ceiling. Obviously, the victim had also tugged upon just the right rope, because the mechanism releasing countless blades from the floor beneath had acted as well. Strangely, however, it seemed to be.. a woman?
Erik cursed loudly. For one so used to silence and solitude, all of the sudden attention was becoming rather tiresome. He squatted lower to assess the damage.
The face was completely hidden - a mass of familiar chocolate curls hiding it from him. Erik allowed his gaze to survey the rest of the twisted body. A blade had pierced through the woman's side, and blood had already pooled profusely about her. The curve of her thigh was also punctured, and her calf. Though it looked quite painful, indeed with the blades still inside her flesh it must be torment, Erik mused that the woman was quite fortunate. All vital organs had been avoided and though she might die from loss of blood, she would otherwise recover fairly easily. But what to do with her?
"The more the merrier," Erik muttered sarcastically, and reached with deft hands to remove the woman as gently as he could manage from her confines. She cried out, even in her pain-induced sleep when the blades slid through her flesh in retreat. Erik cringed, imagining the sensation.
"Foolish woman," he chided her quietly, lifting the light form into his arms with ease. Strange, she felt so.. familiar.
Doubling back towards his lair, he carried her in darkness - his attentive gaze focused forward. The last thing he needed was to trip one of his own devices and kill them both. As he neared the opening into his odd sort of home, his attention shifted to something altogether different. He could not see Elizabeth in the main room, and surmised that she must be in with Nicholas. He grumbled inwardly, pondering how to punish the insolence he knew would come, rushing forward more quickly. Just as he reached the cavern, Elizabeth scurried out of Nicholas' room with a guilty expression. Erik would have scolded her, but again Elizabeth's sweet voice prevented him.
"Mama!" Elizabeth cried in horror, staring at the face of her mother. "What have you done!" Elizabeth, for what Erik would have stated was the millionth time that night, began to weep. Erik cast his gaze downwards into the form in his arms, and was repulsed to find.. Christine!
His stern and domineering expression softened to one of concern and surprise, and he quickly settled Christine upon the divan.
"Foolish woman," he repeated, the words taking on an entirely different meaning as they passed his lips. "Elizabeth, in the drawer - bring me bandages and all that you find." Elizabeth seemed to shocked to move, her tiny body wracked with sobs as she watched on in horror.
"Now!"
The slight frame snapped from it's reverie and she hurried off. Erik was left alone with the form of his life's love. He gazed at her face. She had matured well, and the delicate young woman he had known and coveted was gone - replaced with a vivacious and beautiful woman. Seeing her brought back a surge of unwelcome emotion, making Erik feel weak and exposed. The last thing he needed in his current situation.
"Oh, Christine.." He muttered too softly for Elizabeth to hear, even as she rushed back in with an armload.
Quite matter-of-factly, Erik ripped away at the clothing upon the woman who had once been his heart's desire. When all of her wounds (and more) were exposed, he busied his trembling hands with tending to her. First, the bleeding had to be stopped. Once that had been accomplished, he used a form of alcohol to rinse away any impurities.
"Hold her still, Elizabeth.." The tone was gentle and even, and Elizabeth would have liked it at any other time. She did not understand his words, until he began to stitch the wounds closed. Though she had appeared to be unconscious, Christine suddenly jerked with a loud cry. Elizabeth sprang into action, attempting to hold her own mother down.
Erik managed to mend all three of the wounds rather neatly, slather them with a healing salve and then bandage them up. When the work was done and he was convinced Christine would not bleed to death upon his divan, his eyes took her in again. Despite the obvious maturity in her face, she seemed so fragile again - within his grasp. Suddenly realizing her state of disrobe, he muttered huskily to Elizabeth.
"Find a shift to dress her in. Loose. I'll need to change her bandages often."
Elizabeth obeyed.
An hour had passed since the arrival of Christine. Erik seemed to be brooding, and had not spoken to Elizabeth since. Christine had not stirred, and Elizabeth had managed through scarce whispers to convey to Nicholas what was occurring. Finally the impasse was ended.
"Erik!"
His head snapped up, the tormenting emotions that had been coiling within him pushed aside. It was not Elizabeth that had called for him, but Christine. He was at her side in a breath. Her tiny hand lifted to stroke the exposed side of his face, and she smiled weakly.
"Am I dead, my angel?" The voice was as sweet as he remembered, and softer than Elizabeth had ever heard. She watched in a fascinated horror as the monster smiled back, cupping her mother's hand.
"No, child. But quite nearly. Why, Christine? Why come back into these depths?" It was as if the question answered himself within his mind. A flash of anger filled his gaze, and Elizabeth was surprised to find that Christine did not cower. She was, apparently, more accustomed to his moods.
"I gave you your wish once, Christine. Your precious little lover. I gave away every hope of having someone love me the second time, for you. Again, you shattered my twisted heart. Was it not enough to destroy me twice, Christine?"
The meaning of the words were lost upon Elizabeth, but she felt an overwhelming pity for the man at her mother's side. Obvious conflict raged across his handsome face.
Christine trembled at his words. She had nothing to refute him with except the truth, which she feared would fall painfully short.
"I had to, my love. Don't you see? You've always had my heart, but I could not decide for myself. There were.. other factors." Christine cast a wary glance towards her daughter, and then looked back to Erik, engrossed in their discussion.
Erik brooded. "Other factors? Something more valuable than a man's soul?" He spat, obviously bitter.
"A child's soul," Christine murmured softly, attempting to calm the raging beast.
Something flashed within Erik's gaze, and at the same moment they both turned to look at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth suddenly felt very naked beneath the two set's of eyes upon her, and turned to retreat. She had seen enough of the display. It caused a riotous course of emotions in her. Jealousy, first. Over which party she could not be certain, but also a strong sense of anger for her father. What had her mother just admitted?
"Fate has brought her to me, dear Christine." Erik's tone once again was heavy with menace. He lifted himself from her side - glancing at the retreating form of Elizabeth. "She's given herself to me."
"Erik!" Christine chided, attempting to sit. What way had Elizabeth submitted to Erik? Christine felt horrified at the thought. "She is my child!"
Their argument was disrupted by a male voice, calling into the din.
"Elizabeth.."