Yay! Nice long chapter, thankyou for all your patience my dears, forgive me but work and job hunting is all slowly coming together and things are slowly working themselves out.
Shout out to Lathril who knows what is to come and has supported me through it all!
Warning: This chapter is not for the squeamish, I have no fear of horror (only of Care Bears, evil bunnies and fluff) but I realise you may not all share my views
"The dead we can imagine to be anything at all." Fyodorov, Bel Canto
The carriage jolted and rattled as Darvon shook the reins over the horse's backs. Inside the leather and velvet interior Adriana sat staring out a chink between the curtain and window to watch Paris rush past, the night was oddly still, no raucous laughter and mad partygoers shed light and noise over the dark streets. She blinked when she realised Nadir was speaking and tuned into the conversation.
"Darius remains with the...the victim," the Persian was saying, "She was found by the night watch who promptly called on me as my restaurant was only a few moments away, I told them to give me two hours before they brought reinforcements and a crew for the-" again he hesitated, "the remains." He leant forward and looked earnestly into Erik's face, "Erik you must tell me, has there been no one whom you have crossed recently who could possibly wish to harm you like this?"
Erik growled, "Half of Paris Daroga? Or perhaps two thirds?" he shook his head, "No, no one,"
Nadir sighed, leaning back again, "Then I fear this puzzle is beyond me,"
The carriage jerked to a stop by a dark alley and Nadir climbed down wearily, "This way," he indicated some place to the right, shrouded in shadow. Erik leapt down after him, looking around suspiciously.
Suddenly a squat dark shape shot past them, racing for the freedom beyond the carriage,
"Master!" Darius's hoarse shout from the alley followed, "It's him!"
The shadow was already half way over the bridge half a block away but Erik reacted instantly, "Watch her!" he shouted to Nadir, and unfurled himself from his cloak to give chase.
Darius meanwhile, had run to Nadir and was speaking rapidly in Persian, Nadir nodded several times, then indicated towards the alley, looking down and shuddering at a something Adriana could not see. Darius slid back with a giant's grace to where he had been hiding and waited, Adriana looked after Erik for a moment, biting her lip, then wincing as her cut reopened, she couldn't hope to catch up to him so she turned to enter the alley.
Nadir blocked her way, "Leave mademoiselle," his swarthy face was pale, "This is not a sight you should see,"
Adriana glared at him, "I need to see this Nadir,"
"I would not advise…" the Persian's voice trailed off at Adriana's stony gaze, "Let. Me. Through."
Nadir swallowed and stepped aside, Darius looked up from his kneeling position beside the blanket-covered form, his giant's face stern, but if possible, even paler than Nadir's, he glanced at his master who swallowed again and nodded. Darius, obviously against his better judgement, pulled back the rough cloth covering the huddled lump. With an impersonal gaze, Adriana looked at the twisted body of a Parisian street prostitute. Her shabby clothes were cut away at the front, shirt and short ragged skirt muddy and dyed with blood. No part of her body was unscathed, her eyeballs were slashed, her lips cut open, her arms and legs scratched and torn. Shredded tearing cuts ripped through her grimy skin and the blood spilt painted her hide a sticky garish red, her breasts and other features hung limp and bare in the light of Darius and Nadir's lanterns.
"Mademoiselle," the daroga said hesitantly.
"Adriana," she demanded harshly, staring at the ruins of what had once been a living, feeling woman.
"Mademoiselle," Nadir motioned around to the woman's hidden side, covered by a loosely draped arm, "If you insist on looking, there is something you should see,"
Adriana took a step to the side and knelt opposite Darius on the grey cobblestones, the rough bumps digging into her knees. With tender care, Darius tilted the woman onto her beck, across her torn breasts and stomach was scratched out the letters A-D-R-I-A-N-N-A.
The letters had been self made, black blood crusting around the shards of broken granite caught in the woman's skin, the chunk of rock was still clutched in the woman's slit hands, her nails bloody and fingers raw. Adriana crushed her hand over her lips to stop herself from screaming. Her teeth bit down on her lip so hard she drew blood, spilling into her trembling mouth. She leapt back to the gutter and spat out the coppery taste again and again. The red stuff on her tongue wouldn't normally bother her, but now she felt like she was going to be sick. She wiped her mouth and walked quickly back over to the two men.
Keep moving…don't think about it…don't feel…just keep going…"Is this her name?"
Nadir raised and dropped his shoulders helplessly, "We don't-"
"No." Darius spoke up, Nadir and Adriana both looked at him sharply, a faint blush rose through the man's dark face and tears glittered unshed in his black eyes, "Her name is-was" he corrected, "Tarianelle, or Tara to her friends. We were, not so long ago…acquaintances," he bowed his head in sorrow over his former partner, it hadn't mattered that she was a whore, she had been truly witty and amusing, in a city full of prejudice, she had been an honest, if brazen woman. More often than not, the daroga's servant had sought out the woman for her conversation, more so than the other services she offered.
A dark shadow reappeared at the end of the alleyway, a skeletal hand pushed Nadir out of the way and rushed past the off balance daroga to pull Adriana away from Tara's body.
"What the Hell do you think you're doing Nadir?" the beautiful voice hissed, Adriana's eyes remained locked on Tara's ruined form, tracing the carved letters over and over again. "I warned you, place her in any kind of danger and-" his eyes fell on the torn letters on the dead prostitutes belly and his voice dropped into shocked silence.
"Her name's Tara," Adriana said in a dead tone, "Fucking bastards always spell my name wrong," she started to shake, knees nearly giving way for her to crumple again onto the cobblestones. Erik pulled her against his chest, holding her still with deathly thin arms, she only came up to his heart, unable to tear her eyes from the bloody mess before them.
"They can't know it's you," Erik's voice was forceful, demanding, "How can they?"
"For God's sake Erik!" she pushed back from his chest and glared up at him, swallowing back the blood still leaking into her mouth, "Of course they fucking well do! Your lasso! Your mask! This is the thirteenth murder, all the same way! And now my name, somebody knows! My name Erik, no one in Paris, Hell even in this century even knows I exist, I've never been Adriana any other time but here, most of the time I only drag it out and dust it off on special occasions! Some-body knows!" Erik pressed her face to his chest, cutting off her panicked rant (You'd be panicking too if a psychopathic murderer were after you).
"But how?" Erik's eyes sought out Nadir, the Persian shook his head helplessly, "The mademoiselle is correct, by all accounts, no one should know of her presence." Nadir hesitated, "Did you find him?" he asked, Erik shook his head imperceptibly, stroking a hand over Adriana's hair, "No," he murmured, he looked down at Adriana who had her eyes squeezed shut, wimpering like a kitten, it was the first time Erik had ever seen her look so afraid, "Home time little one," he said firmly, he refused to open his Wraith up to this kind of danger, instead Adriana shook her head and began to speak, almost to herself.
"Nineteen murders so far, the first six were random, men and women, and they didn't involve the lasso or," she gestured to the blanket covered body of Tara, "This kind of mutilation. Then a week's silence and they started again in a pattern. Tania, Helen, and Elaine. Whore, peasant, and merchant's daughter. Then Foenicia, Hanna, Antoinette, Niamh, Torella, Odette and Monique. Prostitute, barmaid, servant, lady's maid merchant's sister, a Play actor, and a minor nobleman's daughter. Olga and Felicity, servant and head cook in a restaurant. And now Tara," she closed her eyes, "I think the first six were done by someone else, then the copycat took over, take out the first six and look at the one's I just mentioned, see the pattern?"
"Low born to high," Nadir answered slowly, "Over and over, but the numbers don't match up, serial murderer's are methodical in everything when they kill like this,"
"Not to an English speaker," Adriana pressed her face into Erik's chest, clutching him like she was afraid he would disappear, the daroga and the Phantom both frowned, and she spoke again, "Change Foenicia to Phoenicia, what are the first letters of all their names?"
"T-H-E" Nadir looked up into Erik's golden eyes.
"P-H-A-N"
"T-O-M O-F T." all colour drained from Nadir's dark face, "By Allah,"
"They wouldn't dare," Erik's fingers tightened on Adriana's arms,
"I'd say they already have," Adriana remarked cynically, "Oh Christ…"
"But surely the Authorities wouldn't believe I would come out of hiding after all this time to just go out murdering random women!" Erik protested vehemently, Adriana laid a tiny, short-fingered hand on his arm, "Erik, you're a madman, sane people don't believe that mad people need a reason for doing what they do."
"That's true," Erik growled, "But surely once he reached the end of the name, he'll have nothing left, he could just make his point and disappear and pass us by," the Phantom was clutching at straws, desperate to remain unseen, to keep the strange but extraordinary relationship he shared with Adriana.
"Or start on Theatre Wraith," the blonde interjected, "But he won't pass us by Erik, this is aimed at you. Look at the map when we get home, each murder draws closer to the Opera House he's closing in. An H and an E and he'll probably be knocking on the Populaire door."
"You think this deranged idiot would dare harm my subjects?" Erik's grip tightened, bruising Adriana's arms, "Who would he dare try for? And why?"
"Odile first," Adriana answered slowly, "Her rank is high, but her position is lowly if you can understand that, there is none so socially looked down upon as the diva. Then…who starts with P? Phineus? No he's a boy,"
"Phicillia, Mme Giry's second in command,"
"Of course, then…Elaine? The head costumer?"
"Logical, for a madman,"
"All mad men follow some kind of logic, even Renfield,"
"Not all, undoubtedly Rosette after that,"
"Who?"
"The managers secretary and book keeper,"
"Never met her,"
"I'd be surprised, short round woman, glasses and brown mousy hair, spends most of her time in the offices,"
"That explains it."
"And A…" Nadir's voice trailed off as Adriana and Erik looked at each other, everyone was silent for a moment until Adriana spoke up from Erik's chest.
"Me."
I told you this would get dark, pancakes to anyone who picked up on Bram Stoker's Dracula reference.