A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir!


Erik: The Vampire Hunter

Episode 10: The Perfect Weapon

By: Elektra

Home of Jason and Jessica Petty

31-year-old Jacob Petty looked at the dinner his mother placed before him. Meatloaf again. He was annoyed with meatloaf.

Lately he seemed to be getting annoyed with several things. He blamed it on the fact he was in the middle of a messy divorce and was in danger of having his children taken away. As it was, he had been kicked out of his own home and had been forced to move back in with his parents.

Mrs. Petty smiled at her son as she put a plate down before her husband, "I made apple pie for dessert,"

"Just give me the pie," Jacob answered.

Mr. Petty shook his head in dismay at his son's attitude, then brought a forkful to his mouth, and began chewing slowly. He suddenly stopped, his eyes going wide.

"Honey?" Mrs. Petty began, "Honey... are you ok?" she began to grow frantic as her husband's face grew red. He put a hand to his throat, knocking his chair back as he stood up. "Jason!" Mrs. Petty cried out, "Help me, Jacob! Help me!" she begged her son.

Jacob simply sat there, unemotional as he watched the scene before him. It was as if something had taken over his mind and body. He had been thinking of this very scene in his mind... and here it was. Jacob was filled with such a rush of power that he didn't even notice the 'thump' of a body falling to the floor…

Arts Building

Christine was not having a good night. She was currently practicing for her finals... only to find she could do nothing right by Erik. Every note, every stanza was wrong. Not enough of one thing, or too much of something else. He was being overly harsh, she thought. Instead of helping her correct her mistakes, he was only berating her for them.

Erik frowned at her as she finished hitting a particularly high note, "Are you attempting to call dogs? Is that even a note on the traditional scale, or did you make that up?"

Christine blinked at that, then pursed her lips, hands on her hips. She was getting rather fed up with his attitude tonight, "You know, if you would actually teach me how to reach that note instead of yelling at me, maybe I might improve!"

"Or maybe you're just hopeless!" he snapped. "But then, what else would I expect from a little girl like you? I should have known that you weren't mature enough to learn this song!"

"I AM mature… but I've never even HEARD that song before!" she indicated the paper at the piano, "I don't even know who WROTE it!"

"I did!" he spat, "For YOU!"

Christine's eyes went wide, "For… me…?" she repeated.

"Are you deaf now too?" he asked coldly, then turned his back on her, "I wrote this the night you asked me to help you with your finals! I thought perhaps it might assist you in getting the grade you needed. Apparently my efforts were in vain…" he hissed.

Christine's momentary surprise quickly turned to annoyance, "Why are you being so bitchy tonight?" she demanded.

He spun around to face her, slowly stalking towards the petite girl, golden eyes aflame, "Bitchy?" he growled, "Did you just call me bitchy?" he narrowed his eyes as he came closer and closer, "Any man who dared call me that would be DEAD at my feet! How dare you!" Christine began to back away, growing a little frightened at his menacing tone and stature.

"Erik…" she began shakily, but it was to no avail, for she soon found herself backed up against the wall of the music room, his 6'6" towering over her own 5'2".

"Don't Erik me!" he snapped.

"What is wrong with you tonight?" she demanded to know.

"Why should you care?" he asked, "It's not as if you'll be around me much longer,"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh spare me the innocent routine, Christine! I know you plan to move in with your lover. Our acquaintance will be coming to an end." He scowled. "You've gotten everything you wanted,"

"And since when did you become an expert on what I want?" she shot back. Does he have to stand so close to me?

He let out a harsh laugh. "It doesn't take a genius to see that any lovely young girl dreams of being carried off by a handsome prince! I hope his money keeps you warm at night! I doubt HE'D be able to!" he sneered, "Do you have ANY idea what you just did to your career? You handed it to that boy on a silver platter!"

"You don't understand-" Christine began.

"Oh don't I?" He slammed his hands against the wall, blocking Christine in on both sides, "YOU are the one who doesn't understand! Will that boy allow you to continue our lessons? No! Would he allow you anywhere NEAR me? NO!"

"Stop YELLING at me!" Christine cried out.

"I will yell at you because you need to be yelled at!" he growled. "Why did you bother coming here tonight if you're only going to leave m- " He stopped briefly, then continued, "… leave your career behind to RUN off with some pretty RICH boy?" He punctuated his words by slamming the flat of his right fist against the wall beside her, his voice strained with an emotion that had nothing to do with his belief that Christine was throwing her future away. Christine attempted to turn from him, but Erik grasped her chin with strong fingers and forced her to look back up, "Answer me!" he insisted.

She tried to avert her gaze from those pools of amber fire, her eyes dropping to Erik's mouth instead. She could see a flash of perfect white beneath those slightly parted lips…

Christine blushed and closed her eyes… but that only ended up enhancing the earthy scent of candle smoke and freshly cut wood that surrounded her as Erik stood not more then two inches away.

"And here I thought you were supposed to be a genius!" she replied angrily, not liking the odd feelings he was stirring up. Her hands shot out in front of her, pressing against his chest in an attempt to push him away… but it was to no avail. Why would she have thought differently? She could feel his strength beneath her fingers. Fighting the undead every night seemed to agree with him…

Erik was struck silent as he glanced down at her tiny hands, unable to ignore the warmth of her touch, the lovely scent of her hair, the flush on her beautiful face… and the feel of her breath against his chin as he realized how very close he had lowered his face to hers. If he leaned down only three inches more…

Erik shoved the unwanted thought from his mind as he quickly stumbled away from her, "Christine…" he gasped hoarsely.

She simply stared at him, her blue eyes so deep he was sure he'd drown, "Obviously you only eavesdropped on part of my conversation with Raoul." She began, "So let me inform you – oh great genius who thinks he knows my heart's desire - of the rest of it!"

She stepped towards him as she spoke, forcing Erik to back away - she was getting a little too close for comfort. "I told Raoul it was too soon to think of moving in and marrying him. I still had my schooling, and yes, Erik… our lessons," she was closer now, "He didn't take my refusal well! He said he'd give me some time to think about it - to think about what it would be like without him."

She frowned angrily. "He's so used to getting what he wants that when he doesn't get it, he acts like a spoiled child!" Christine stood only inches away, the piano preventing Erik from moving back any further, "God, males-" she poked an angry finger into Erik's chest once, "are so-" twice, "infuriating!" three times.

"And females…" Erik grasped both of Christine's wrists to prevent a fourth poke, "Arouse us to the point of insanity!"

Christine opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again, finding herself flushing unexplainably at his words. All the time she had spent with Erik, how could she have forgotten? As mysterious, reclusive and unearthly as he seemed, Erik was still a man. A man who reacted to a woman as any man would. And now, standing this close to him, she found herself feeling both frightened and excited by this new revelation.

Erik saw the look in her eyes, and realized the way in which she had taken his last words. He quickly dropped his hands to his side, breaking all contact, "Now that is settled…" he began quickly, "I have things to attend too." He immediately headed to the window.

"Wait, Erik! Where are you going?" Christine asked.

"Tonight's lesson is over," he said with finality.

"BUT…" she started, but he slipped through the window and was gone without another word.

Christine could only stare at where he had been, and wonder upon the sudden longing she felt at his disappearance.

Home of Jason and Jessica Petty - the next day

Three men stood before Jacob, trying to bring him back to himself. They offered him a way to control the power that had taken over him. But he refused. What did they know about power? They obviously had so very little themselves. He listened to their desperate words, a small smirk on his lips. They were chanting something from the books they held in their hands.

Jacob glanced at his own book. It was sprawled on the floor, several feet away. He had taken to reading that book day and night. It had shown him a way to channel his anger. His wife and best friend were now paying dearly for they way they had carried on behind his back. He remembered his wife begging for forgiveness as he read some odd words from that wonderful book. He remembered the look on her face as he punished her lover – the man turning blue right before her eyes. He had used the book so often that he no longer needed to look at it to make his fondest wishes come true.

Now these men before him were trying to control him. Jacob wanted to laugh. Nothing could control him. He was beyond them. He was beyond anything.

He was even beyond feeling sorrow for the dead woman at his feet. The woman he had once called "Mother." She had tried to control him too. She was the one who had called these men before him. They were going to help him, she had said. Didn't the woman understand that he didn't want their help? He didn't NEED their help? Foolish woman. Did she not know that her attempts to save him only made him angrier?

She had screamed quite a lot before she died, even through the blood bubbling out of her mouth. A mere thought from him had crushed her insides. He would like to see the look on the medical examiner's face when they finally performed the autopsy.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he realized the three men before him were still trying their damnedest to bring him under control again. He was growing increasingly annoyed. It was time to rid himself of his unpleasant company. He turned his attention to the first man - wouldn't it be nice if his heart stopped beating? No sooner had he thought it, then the man began to clutch at his chest, dropping the book to the ground. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath. The other two glanced at the third man briefly, but then turned back to their infernal books, still chanting desperately. A shame, really, as it was a lovely sight.

Jacob laughed. He knew they would not kill him in return, for they were the heroes. They would rather save him then kill him.

Jacob looked at the dead man's body. One down, two more to go.

He wondered how creative he could be...

Dean Giry's Office - that night

"Tell me about this man," Erik began as he leaned against Giry's desk, "What is the situation?"

"Jacob Petty decided to dabble in the occult in an attempt to win his wife back from his best friend. It backfired. Instead of him controlling the power, it began to control him." Giry explained.

Erik met Giry's eyes, "If you are asking me to deal with this man, that can only mean one thing, Antoinette..."

Giry turned away from him, "Our people were unsuccessful in containing Petty's power. Three of them were killed,"

Erik nodded slowly, "And so I am your last resort," Erik knew what was expected of him. He was only called upon in matters such as this when a permanent solution was needed.

"Yes, Erik," she handed him a folder, "In here you will find the man's address and a brief description of what he can do. He has not left his parents' home, so it should not be too difficult to-"

"No," Erik interrupted, tossing the folder back on Giry's desk, "Find another,"

Giry looked at him, her eyes unable to hide her surprise. He had never refused a special assignment before, "Erik?"

Erik glanced down at his hands, and a trick of his imagination showed him the tinge of red that could never be washed away, "I do not want to do this any more, Antoinette." His voice was quiet, resigned.

Giry frowned, "May I ask why?" She didn't need to ask, though. One look in Erik's eyes told her, "Is it because of her?" Erik turned away from Giry, "Erik...!" Giry's voice was stern, "Tell me that girl has not taken control of your heart!"

"Taken it?" he laughed coldly, "No. For her to take it would mean she wanted it in the first place." He paused, his voice soft when he next spoke. "But that did not stop me from losing it regardless,"

"I knew it!" Giry snapped, "I KNEW this would happen! I TOLD you to be careful!"

Erik whirled on her, "You think I wanted this to happen?" he hissed, "You think it was my intention to suffer this way? To lose something and know that I will get nothing in return?" He threw his hands in the air. "Forgive me for being HUMAN!" He spat the last word angrily. "I would have much preferred to remain a monster. To remain cold and unfeeling! To lose myself to blissful darkness and continue to be the heartless assassin the Guild expects! It would have been far less painful!"

"You picked a wonderful time to have an attack of conscience, Erik." Giry frowned. "Three Hunters were killed! If you do not stop this man, who knows how many humans will die at his hands!"

Erik clenched his jaw. "And how many humans have died at my hands?" he replied.

Giry was silent for a moment, then finally spoke. "The kills were justified,"

"If it's as simple as all that, then why can no other Hunters bring themselves to do it? It's justified, after all!" he sneered.

"I'll tell you why!" He continued, "Because they have someone to go back to at the end of the day. Husbands, wives, lovers. Children. And they could not stand to look at them after staining their hands with blood!" He glared at Giry. "Oh! But it's ok for me to do it! I don't mind! I have no one to face when all is said and done. I have no lover, no children! I am a recluse who lives in the shadows and hides his face from the world! I can shut off my emotions! I can turn myself into a cold-hearted killer! Because I'm just the Guild's WEAPON, after all!"

He took a deep breath, his voice growing quieter, calmer. "And that was true for a long time, wasn't it, Antoinette? But... now... now I have a reason to care. A reason to feel." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "And as unrequited as it may be, it is still there. It is not something I can get rid of. Not something I can force myself to remain numb to,"

"Erik... please," Giry's voice was quiet. "If there were another way, you know we would take it. But there isn't. This man is dangerous. He not only killed his wife's lover, but his own parents as well! The Guild has tried to bring him under control, but they can't!"

Erik picked the folder up from the desk once more and studied it, "Do you know what it is like to look into their eyes before they die?" he asked, "To see their lost humanity return just before they breathe their last? To see the realization? The guilt? The sadness? To see them finally return to themselves, only to take it all away?"

He looked at Giry.

"I do, Antoinette... and I remember each and every face," He closed his eyes a moment, then opened them again, "I suppose Jacob Petty's face will just be another to add to my memories,"

Without another word, Erik spun on his heel, and headed out of the office.

Home of Jason and Jessica Petty - 2 hours later

Erik took in the scene before him. The three Hunters and an older woman lay dead, their blood spattered upon the walls and floor. The bodies had begun to take on a rather unpleasant smell, yet the man who stood in the middle of it didn't seem to notice.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

"So..." Jacob Petty began as he took in Erik's appearance. "Are you going to try and make me change my ways like the others did?" he taunted. "Forget it. I'm enjoying myself too much."

Erik said nothing.

"They..." Jacob indicated the dead Hunters, "tried to bring the old Jacob back. It didn't work." He then smirked. "Though if you want to play hero, go ahead. It'll be fun to kill you too."

Erik's mind slipped into the black abyss, that place where it was so very easy for his heart and soul to grow cold. It was this very ability that made him the Guild's perfect weapon. To do what no other Hunter could.

"The heroes are dead," Erik finally spoke, his voice frighteningly calm as he pulled a coiled length of rope out of the inner pocket of his duster. "I'm the Executioner,"

Jacob cocked his head, a small smile on his lips. "And you're going to execute me then?" he asked. The man's smile faded. "You know I can kill you with a thought, right?" he asked, "It's how I got rid of the others."

"Try it," Erik replied. "You'll find I'm a lot more resistant to such things then they were."

"We'll see about that," Jacob replied, then focused his mind on Erik. The masked Hunter simply stood there staring at him. The man furrowed his brow, concentrating harder. Erik was unresponsive. Jacob began to grow concerned.

"Your tricks aren't working, are they?" Erik replied icily, "Too bad for you."

Jacob shook his head, "I don't understand."

"And you never will..." The man soon found the rope around his neck, the masked Hunter tugging tightly. "Don't worry, I will make this as painless as possible."

Jacob's eyes went wide as he realized death was near. "No... please..." he begged, tears slipping from his eyes, "What have I done?" he asked, "Mother?" he looked at the woman's body a few feet away, "Momma? I'm ... I'm so sorry..."

With his free hand, Erik calmly removed his mask, allowing the man to look death in the face... before one last hard yank of the rope snapped his neck in two.

Erik's Room - later

The darkness.

It was where he always retreated after his special assignments. The abyss would blissfully pull him under and keep him delightfully frozen until It thought he was ready to return to society once again. He wondered if one day It would consume him completely. He had sunk farther then usual this time. Not even the soft mewling in the corner of Erik's room could reach him. He vaguely recalled having pets of some sort...

Erik?"

Where did that female voice come from? I should recognize it...

Erik simply stayed where he was, staring at the darkness before him. He paid no attention to the rattle of the doorknob, or the squeaky hinges as the door opened.

"Erik? You ok?" The voice entered the room. Perhaps he should have locked the door. "Dean Giry told me you weren't feeling well." A form appeared before him, but his focus was on the wall, "She said you wanted to be left alone, so I won't stay long," she placed a paper bag down on his desk, "I brought you some chicken soup. It might make you feel better,"

He slowly turned away from the wall, shifting his eyes towards the female in front of him. Was she an angel? Looking at her in the glow of the single candle on his desk made it seem so. He simply stared at her detachedly, waiting for the lovely apparition to fade away and leave him to his darkness once more.

"Hey, there... you ok?" she stepped towards him. "You look out of it..."

His eyes closed as he felt warm gentle fingers press against his exposed face, barely recalling that he had taken his mask off when he had returned home, "You feel so cold!" the lovely angel gasped.

Christine...

Erik's eyes quickly flew open, "Christine!" he said aloud, lifting his head up to see Christine's sweet face hovering above him. He suddenly jumped to his feet, causing the girl to stumble back. The darkness was gone! Just like that. "How!" he gasped. It was this girl, he was quite sure of it. Her touch had managed to pull him out.

Christine furrowed her brow, "How what?" she asked.

Erik glanced around the room, his eyes falling to the bag on his desk, "Is that for me?"

"Yeah," she nervously bit her lip, "Um, you DO like chicken soup, right?" Erik noticed the mask sitting on the far side of the desk. He glanced back at Christine, who was patiently waiting for his answer. Why wasn't she reacting to his appearance? He walked past her and grabbed the mask, quickly sliding it on, "Are you sure you should be wearing that?" she asked, "If you're sick, having something smothering your face is probably going to make you feel worse."

"I thought I'd spare you the sight," he muttered. He did not want her to look at the Guild's Executioner right now.

Christine glanced at him for a moment, concerned with his odd behaviour, then shook her head as she reached into the paper bag, "Here," she held out a covered bowl and spoon. He simply nodded as he took it from her. The girl didn't need to know that his sickness had not been physical, "Can you eat with that on?" Christine asked, indicating the black leather.

"It's cut high enough above my mouth," he replied as he returned to sit on the bed.

Christine sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "It's ok, Erik," she said. "I won't mind if you want to take it off,"

"No, Christine... this is fine..." he swallowed a spoonful of soup to show that the mask was no hindrance, "I've done it many times."

She nodded, then folded her hands neatly in her lap, suddenly finding them fascinating. "You don't ..." she began quietly, "... you don't have to wear it in front of me, you know... if you'd rather not," she glanced up at him, "I think I've gotten used to it. Your face, I mean..."

Erik's spoon froze midway between his mouth and bowl, "Used to it?" he repeated, then looked away, his voice growing cold, "My own mother couldn't get used to it."

"I'm not your mother, Erik..." Christine replied.

He met her eyes for a moment, "No... no I don't suppose you are..." he said, then turned back to his soup, leaving the mask in place.

Sometimes, more was said with silence then with words...

END OF EPISODE TEN