A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir
Erik: the Vampire Hunter
Episode 34: Complete
By: Elektra
The body that lay beneath the sheet at Police Commander Gus Leroux's feet had bothered him greatly as he read the report in his hands.
Homicide
Victim: Unidentified Female. Small stature. Blue eyes, brown hair.
Reported by Police officer Colin Lennox.
Jane Doe was found near 24th Avenue and Cunning about 1:26am. Signs of a struggle. Cause of Death: Early signs of strangulation. Time of death approximately 15-20 hours previous to discovery.
Leroux's thoughts went back to a conversation he had had with Madame Giry. She had been expressing concern in regards to Erik's behaviour as of late.
But surely this was not the work of the Executioner!
You are not the least bit concerned that the Leader may have a hand in his new attitude?
He remembered Giry's words.
Was it possible? It was bad enough that the creature was the boy's father.
Perhaps he should get someone to keep a closer eye on Erik.
For everyone's sake.
One hour later
Erik saw the scene before him – his angel having the very life choked out of her little body by Laura's hands.
He could not think. Could not focus. All he knew was rage. Hatred.
And fear.
Fear that he would be too late. Fear that he would lose the one thing that meant so very much to him.
His arm moved on instinct.
Laura turned her head, meeting his eyes for only a moment before she fell to dust atop Christine.
That was it.
He had finished what he started.
Erik woke up and raked a hand through his ebony hair, feeling it fall lightly against his shoulders.
Christine…
It had been a week since the incident with Laura. He had seen very little of his angel, giving her time to recover from the shock of it all.
Or perhaps time to forgive him for putting her in such a situation in the first place.
If he had dusted Laura when he first knew what she had become, it all could have been prevented.
Erik buried his face in his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. It would not have mattered if he rid himself of Laura. There was still the Leader to tend to.
My father…
Erik had been berating himself all week for letting Shay get away. For not killing him then and there.
For hesitating.
But then, if he had killed the man immediately, he would not have known about Christine's predicament, and he would not have arrived on time to help her.
I could have lost her forever…
Erik glanced up at the air ducts.
He needed to see her, even though he was quite sure she would be asleep at this time.
He only hoped Christine didn't hate him…
Christine's Dorm
Christine lay in her bed attempting to read the book in her hands. Meg was with RJ, making good use of her Friday night – or Saturday morning, depending on one's perspective, and Christine was feeling horribly alone at the moment, unable to sleep.
She had seen Erik lurking about these last few days - well aware that a moving shadow was often more then just a shadow – but he had not come to speak with her.
After removing her glasses to massage the bridge of her nose, Christine put the book down and slid out from under the blankets. She shivered slightly in the cotton cami and boy shorts she had chosen to sleep in, knowing it had been the wrong choice in sleepwear for the chilly first week of December.
Restlessly, Christine headed to her dresser to pull out something warmer, briefly wondering if Erik blamed her for unintentionally forcing his hand with Laura.
"Are you alone?" A voice suddenly spoke as if it were beside her.
Christine spun around eagerly, her search for warmer clothing forgotten. "Erik? Yes! Meg's gone for the night." There was a moment of silence, then Erik's form dropped gracefully down from the air ducts.
He shrugged off his duster and went to sit at the chair by her desk, simply staring at her.
"Best to keep your distance," he began coldly as she started to walk towards him. "It seems whenever you are near me something horrible happens to you."
"Not always," she replied. Before he could retort, Christine slid into his lap, a leg on either side, her arms wrapping around his neck as she buried her face against his shoulder. "I missed you…"
"Christine…" he started, torn between pulling away and giving in to her affection. He chose the latter, pressing his masked face against her hair. Such a sweet girl. She's been through too much because of me. He scolded himself even as he traced his fingers up and down her spine.
"After everything that has happened, why do you still wish to be near me?" he asked softly.
Christine raised her head and brought a hand to his face, gently slipping off his mask and letting it flutter to the floor. "Haven't you figured it out yet?"
"What is there to figure out?" he asked. "Why do you continue to show such kindness to a monster?"
Christine frowned, hands clenched into tiny fists. "You are not a monster, Erik! Stop CALLING yourself that!" Why do things always have to be so difficult with him?
He scoffed. "Is that so? Remember whose blood I share, angel. Remember what I've done with these very hands. Remember what the Guild calls me!" He shook his head. "How can you possibly believe I am NOT a monster?"
Christine grew angry. "Because I wouldn't love a monster!" she snapped.
Erik froze, golden eyes wide.
"Yes. I said it. I love you, Erik," Christine replied, her voice growing softer, shocked and relieved that she had finally found the courage to tell him.
Erik's eyes closed, his breathing laboured.
Surely, she had not just said those words. Words that no one had EVER said to him.
I love you, Erik. … the words repeated in his head.
He swallowed hard as he buried his face against her neck, finding himself completely and utterly speechless.
"I'm sorry it took so long to tell you," Christine continued as she felt his breath against her skin. "I was… scared." She stroked his hair gently. "But there it is. I love you… and it's too late to stop."
Erik's arms wrapped around her waist. "Christine… I don't-"
"No!" Christine interrupted, "If you're suddenly going to get all noble and say something like I don't deserve you or you'd be better off without me, I swear I'll scream," she interrupted.
"But-"
She put a hand to his mouth. "Shut up, Erik," Christine then replaced her hand with her lips, immediately silencing any protests.
Erik released a sigh as he tangled his pale fingers in her hair. He pressed his mouth harder against her own, the kiss growing deeper, more intimate.
Christine slowly broke away. "Erik… promise me you're not going to try and break up for what YOU think is my own good again," she slid her fingers down his cheek, "because I just finally admitted I love you… and… I don't want you to go away. Ever." Her voice was that of a lost child.
Erik pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, his decision made. "I'm yours then. For as long as you want me."
Christine smiled, her voice soft when she spoke again. "That might be a long long time…"
Motel 6
Shay stared up at the ceiling as he lay upon the bed. He could not believe his son had gotten the better of him.
In trying to change Erik's personality, he made the boy less hesitant to use lethal force. Shay was quite sure he would have been dead had he not pulled out the Laura card.
Laura.
He was still shocked to find that his son had killed her so easily. But then again, he could blame that on himself as well.
And now, he feared for his own life…
"Well … that was quite the screw up, Sytri. To think, your own son bested you in a fight."
Shay sat up in bed with a start. "What do you want, Lou?" he asked the voice.
"Just checking to see how you are – though truly, I care not. However, I hear you are laying low, driven away from that lovely expensive house you enjoyed. You left all your people there to scatter. You seem to have no one to protect you now." The voice let out a sigh. "I told you it was a horrible idea from the beginning, but did you listen to me? No. Of course not."
"Leave me be!" Shay grumbled.
"You are always free to come home, you know."
"It's too hot there. And it smells like brimstone."
"Oh, pardon me then. Perhaps you would prefer another flood? I know how much fun that last one was…" the voice replied dryly.
"At least it kept us on our toes." Shay replied.
"You're such a restless child, Sytri. And stubborn too. Take a break now and return."
"Later, Lou. I have business to attend to!"
There was an impatient sigh. "Oh do what you wish, then. I will laugh once more when you fail."
The voice was soon gone, and Shay was finally alone.
Christine's dorm room – 4 hours later
Christine opened her eyes slowly, seeing nothing but darkness. She was disoriented until she felt a warm body brushing against her.
Erik.
She reached over and rested her head upon his bared chest, listened to his deep breathing and strong heartbeat. The feel of this living, breathing man beside her was so very nice, warm.
Comfortable...
She heard her name softly muttered as sturdy arms instinctively slid up around her, the slow deep breathing continuing. Christine smiled - he was still sleeping.
She had finally told him.
It was as if a great weight had lifted from her shoulders. She had even asked him to see his scars – the damage inflicted on him all those years ago – before they had spent the rest of the night simply talking. They had fallen asleep doing so.
… and Erik had obviously not woken up to put his shirt back on.
"Christine?" came a lethargic mutter.
Christine's thoughts were pleasantly interrupted as Erik slowly woke from his slumber. "Mmm-hmm..." she responded. "Good morning. "
He looked down at the top of her head, his voice soft when he spoke. "Angel? Did we-" he stopped. "No. We're still dressed." A pause. "Well, mostly."
"Glad you're not disappointed…" she muttered.
"Beloved," he started, "clothed or otherwise, you still feel so very nice in my arms." He tightened his grip around her and pulled her a little higher to bury his face in her hair. His beautiful voice then grew serious. "What you said earlier – I did not imagine it, did I?"
"No. I said I loved you. And I meant it."
"I wasn't sure," he replied softly. "I thought… perhaps… it was merely my imagination. A beautiful dream. Forgive me, it's not… I never thought a woman would ever say she-"
His words faded as Christine's fingers reached out to find his unmasked face in the dark, tracing over the sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, concave nose, and soft lips.
Christine pushed herself up slightly, kissing the aforementioned lips, then looking down at him with a smile she was sure he could see.
"I'd gladly spend every night like this." She slowly trailed gentle kisses down his jaw and neck, her hands wandering of their own volition.
With a surprised yelp, Christine soon found the mattress beneath her, Erik's glowing golden eyes looming over her as he pinned her wrists above her head. "Angel, if you do not watch your hands, you may start to feel something else."
Christine lifted her head and kissed his cheek. "Sorry. Let's just go back to sleep."
"Are you sure you want me to stay now?" he asked as he released her wrists.
Christine nodded. "You make a nice pillow. And besides - I think the heat's gone wonky. You can warm me up."
"Ah. Well. It is good to have my uses." Erik replied, and made a mental note to make sure the heat went wonky more often.
Motel 6
Shay closed his eyes, trying to find Erik's mind through the haze that greeted him. The boy had somehow managed to close off his influence.
He could no longer access his son's mind, nor sway his thoughts or invade them... but he could still sense what Erik was doing.
Shay frowned.
Sleeping.
Only sleeping.
He thought the boy would have taken his male rights by now. But alas, it seemed Christine Daaé's thighs were rather difficult to pry apart.
Shay frowned distastefully at the disgusting tenderness he sensed while Erik simply lay there and held the girl. He cut the connection, not even bothering to wait for anything else to happen. It was futile.
Why did such little things mean so damned much to the boy? Why couldn't his son just take his physical pleasure from his female instead of feeling some deep emotional attachment to her?
Because he's in love with her… Shay answered his own question.
He sighed with disappointment. It was no fun to spy on two people who were gushing with so much stifling, sickening love.
Shay remembered Madeline Renau.
Despite her profession, she was still capable of falling in love with a man.
What she saw in him to garner such an attachment, he'd never know. He had certainly done nothing to warrant it. He had, in fact, treated her rather cruelly… yet that horrid emotion was there, festering within her like some incurable disease each and every time she welcomed him into her body. Perhaps she thought he could save her from the life she had chosen.
How disappointed she must have been when he left her alone with his ugly bastard child.
Love was a waste of energy. It made the smartest man foolish and the strongest man weak.
Shay was rather glad he was incapable of it.
Christine's dorm room – 2 hours later
It was the scream that woke Christine first. A high-pitched scream of utter terror.
Her eyes shot open to see Meg standing only a few feet away, hands covering her mouth, fear in her eyes.
Then Christine felt a bony face pressed against her stomach, arms grasping her waist. "STOP SCREAMING, DAMN IT!" came Erik's barking command from underneath the blankets. The two had decided to curl up beneath them when they had gone to sleep.
Meg quickly closed her mouth, not daring to disobey that angry voice, "Who... what... ? Oh god, Christine! Are you... ok?" The concern and panic was very apparent in Meg's voice.
"I'm fine. Why are you-OH!" Christine blushed, realizing what Meg was most likely thinking. She quickly slid a hand beneath the blankets to trace her fingers over Erik's distorted features. "You ok?"
"Yes. I'm wonderful," was the sarcastic reply. "Now that I'm not going deaf." His voice was calm and cool, but Christine could feel him shaking against her. Meg's jarring reaction had agitated him greatly.
"Oh god! That's ERIK!" Meg sputtered as she stumbled back, falling ungracefully on her bed.
"Yes. Thank you for noticing, Little Giry!" came the harsh reply.
A well-toned and very pale arm suddenly shot out from beneath Christine's blankets, long slender fingers open. "Now if you do not mind, could you possibly hand me my mask?" he asked. "My face obviously doesn't sit well with you."
"Mask? OH! Yes... uh... um... where...where is it?" she stuttered.
"It should be on the floor. Beside the desk." It took Meg a moment to find the strength to stand, but when she did, she quickly grabbed the mask and placed it in Erik's outstretched hand.
Christine pressed herself against the wall, giving Erik room to arrange his mask beneath the blankets.
He slid out of the bed and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair in a quick attempt to neaten it. "Your arrival was rather unexpected,"
"I... I'm sorry..." Meg whispered softly as she sunk back down on her bed, still rather stunned. "When I saw your face... it's... uh... not that... I mean... um..."
The strawberry blonde bit her lip nervously, her words leaving her. She closed her eyes and turned away. "I... I had no idea... you looked like… like-"
"Like a corpse?" Erik finished as he crouched down in front of Meg. She couldn't meet the golden eyes that peered out at her beneath the black cotton.
Erik let out a sigh, seeing his answer in her refusal to dispute his words. "I despise it when people scream at the sight of me," he began dangerously. "I usually cause them bodily harm until they stop."
Meg was not sure whether he was being serious or making a morbid joke.
"This morning, however," he continued, "I seem to be in a very good mood for some reason." He glanced over at Christine knowingly, and the brunette blushed deeply, a shy smile on her face.
A desperate knocking at the door startled the occupants of the room.
Sorelli and Jammes voices were demanding to know what the screaming was, if everyone was ok, what was happening.
Meg jumped to her feet and opened the door a crack. She informed the girls everything was fine, then shut it in their faces. The last thing the gossipmongers needed to see was a shirtless Erik and a skimpily clothed Christine.
"I should head off," Erik spoke softly, then glanced at the vent above her bed. "I don't want the others to think badly of you having a man in your room."
Meg blinked at this, studying the masked man before her. "Are you for real?" she asked. "Most guys WANT people to think they've gotten lai-"
"I..." he interrupted harshly, "...am not most guys!"
Meg turned to Christine with a raised eyebrow. "Keep this one,"
Christine smiled at Meg, then entwined her fingers with Erik's. "Stay?" she asked. "It's not like they haven't met you."
He shook his head. "That doesn't matter, Christine. If they see me here, they'll jump to conclusions." A pause. "Besides, the last time they saw me was Halloween. How would you explain my mask now?"
"It's not their business," Christine answered simply.
"No matter. I do not trust Sorelli and Jammes to keep your confidence." He shrugged.
"Perhaps I am old-fashioned in that sense. I do not want to hear stories on campus being told about you." He glanced at Meg, then back at Christine. "Though I imagine as soon as I leave, you will clear up Little Giry's apparent confusion."
Christine slid her arms around Erik, rather liking his old-fashioned need to protect her virtue. Meg really was the only person she could confide in about it.
"Call me later?" Christine asked. Erik nodded, then bent down to give Christine a quick kiss, knowing anything more than that might embarrass Little Giry.
When they broke away, he had grabbed his shirt, boots, and duster before heading to the air ducts, and disappearing from view.
"Ok," Meg spoke. "You're definitely keeping this one! And if you don't," she warned, "Then I'll take him!" She then sat on her bed, waiting. "Now don't keep me in suspense here. Give me all the intimate details. 'cuz, honey… I saw you in the same bed with the guy. And… well… you have to know what I'm thinking."
With a laugh, Christine made herself comfortable, and explained what really happened.
Elsewhere – that night
Black boots crunched quietly on the snowy ground, a gloved hand slipping into the pocket of a long black coat. The rope slid out easily, still coiled ever so neatly.
The girl was only a few feet away, waiting for the bus nervously. Pretty girls really shouldn't be out this late at night by themselves. He thought. There is no telling what manner of person lurks in the shadows.
She screamed as he wrapped the rope around her neck.
He truly hated it when a woman screamed. It made him so very angry…
END OF EPISODE 34
A/N: Sytri: In his human shape, he is a handsome man. Believed to be a Prince of Hell, owning 70 legions, and is able to seduce or bring about physical attraction.
Source: Lemegeton, Johann Wier's Pseudomonarchia Daemonum