Chapter Seventeen

Horrible Horrors

Warning: This chapter is sad in content but I hope you all will not give up on me, things can only get better!

Christine sat in the dark prison of her cell, staring out through the bars into the blackness beyond. She had been here for several days and had barely been given any water or food to sustain her. What had she done to deserve this? Had she not tried to live a peaceful life only to meet Erik? Would he care that she was missing? Would he come after her? So many questions and no answers to any of them.

"You are pretty enough, I suppose," a cold voice said quite suddenly. Christine looked up to see a woman standing in front of her cell, a torch in her hands as she looked at Christine in contempt. Her reddish hair was piled on her head with several beautiful gems sparkling in its depths. Her dress was mauve and of the finest make Christine had ever seen before.

"Who are you?" Christine wondered.

"Carlotta Francois, Philippe's wife," she said with a lift of her chin.

"That is not something to be proud of," Christine replied. Carlotta's eyes flashed in anger.

"You will watch how you speak to me, you little harlot, I am mistress of this house," she fumed.

"A position many women can get my simply spreading their legs," Christine whispered. She cared not about what she said. She was just so tiered. So alone.

"Guards, bring her with me," Carlotta said. Christine looked up to see two burly men enter her cell and grab her by the arms. She tried to struggle but it was all in vain. Carlotta led the way down the dark halls until they reached a room. A fire roared with life and illuminated the library with which she was now in.

"So good of you to join us," Philippe said. He was reclining in a chair, a glass of cognac in his hand.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered for almost the hundreth time.

"Because of Erik. You can blame him for what is happening to you now, but he will come and I will kill him," he said.

"Erik cares nothing for me! I barely know him, he would not risk his life to come to my aid!" she said, pleading with them to see reason.

"I do not believe you, I think Erik cares for you more then either of you will admit...and someone who had once cared for you is very jealous about this," Philippe said. Christine froze. Who was he talking about? Would she want to find out.

"I know not of who you speak," she replied.

"You should," a voice suddenly growled. Christine felt a wave of nausea wash over her at the sight of Jacque stepping out from the shadows.

"No," Christine whimpered. Jacque's grin was laced with venom.

"I believe you know Jacque, Christine?" Philippe said smirking.

"We are old friends," Jacque replied. Philippe turned to the young man.

"You have been loyal to me for many years...this is your reward," he murmured. Christine gasped and Jacque laughed, approaching her. The two guards holding her threw her onto the floor at Jacque's feet. He kicked her roughly in the stomach. She moaned and haunched over. He crouched down beside her and took her chin roughly in his hand, forcing her to look at him.

"You are more beautiful then I remember, I am going to enjoy you immensily," he growled.

"Bastard!" she spat at him. He slapped her, causing her lip to bust and blood filled her mouth.

"You belong to me now, harlot, you will watch how you speak," he said. Christine eyes, filled with tears, turned to look at Philippe.

"I have done nothing to you to deserve this."

"On the contrary, you allowed yourself to become close to a monster."

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Christine sat huddled in a corner of Jacque's room, her body trembling in the robe she had managed to find. Cuts and bruises marred her flawless skin and there was a soreness between her legs that caused fresh tears to form. Jacque's still form lie on the bed, deep in sleep.

How could he sleep knowing what he had done repeatedly to Christine that night? She wanted Erik. It was an insane thought seeing as she knew almost nothing about him but their had been a type of reassurance that she had felt with him. He would have never done this to her, that she was certain of.

Would he risk his life to come for her? Did he have any reason to? Would she be forced to live the rest of her life in fear in this house? What had she done to deserve this?

Papa...if you can hear me, take me away from this pain...I only want to feel your embrace again...

She whimpered when Jacque rolled over in bed and sat up, his eyes instantly finding her in the darkness of the room.

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Ronald had never seen Erik so angry, which in itself was a frightening idea. Glass was strewn across the floor from the various objects that he had thrown against the wall and at the moment he was pacing relentless the space of the room.

"My lord, your anger will do nothing to help Christine," Ronald said.

"When I get my hands on Philippe he will die a slow and painful death," Erik growled.

"We do not know if he has hurt her, my lord," Ronald tried to say reassuringly. Erik's gray green eyes turned to look at him.

"This is Philippe Francois we are talking about, the monster would have found some way to hurt her," he said. A sudden sorrow replaced the anger in his eyes.

"God, Christine, this is happening because of me," he whispered. He should have known that anyone he allowed close to him would experience pain on his behalf. Christine, his little innocent, would not last in Philippe's home. He had to get her away from there.

She had saved his life when he needed her and he would do the same for her without a moments hesitation.

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Christine moaned in pain as Jacque threw her roughly against the wall, her tiered body sagging onto the floor. He tried to grab her again and she managed to slap him, catching him by surprise. A week of this never ending pain and she still had a little fight left in her. She would be damned before submitting to this pig.

"Bitch!" he spat, grabbing her roughly by the hair. Christine kicked him roughly in the groin, causing him to groan and collapse onto his knees. She scrambled for the door but was caught roughly around the waist.

"I like it when you get rough, darling," he growled against her ear, biting the soft skin roughly. She struggled, beating against him with her hands and feet but he managed to carry her to the bed and throw her roughly upon it, quickly devastating himself of his clothing.

"Where is your masked lover now?"