A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir
Erik: the Vampire Hunter
Episode 35: Reanimated
By: Elektra
Graveyard
With a weary sigh, Erik decapitated yet another walking carcass making Its way towards him, his machete growing duller by the minute. In a great show of frustration, he kicked the rolling head like a soccer ball, sending it flying several feet away.
This had been going on for far too long now. He had not even had time to spend with his angel since the week before.
Every night after hunting, Erik would sneak into the air ducts above Christine's dorm only to find his beloved already asleep, curled up with one of her stuffed animals and looking as adorable as could be.
He had not had the heart to disturb her those nights, but he would find himself keeping watch for a few hours. He had long ago deemed himself Christine's guardian angel. A dark angel, to be sure, but her guardian no less.
I love you, Erik... those words still played in his head. It was all he had needed to finally break away from the last of Shay's influence.
A strange growling interrupted Erik's pleasant thoughts. He turned to see yet more lumbering rotting forms wandering aimlessly towards him.
How many of these damned things have crawled out and gone walking? He wondered. It was near impossible to tell numbers from the various decomposing body parts that lay strewn on the ground around him - thanks in part to the various other Hunters who had been assisting in this little assignment.
Erik was quite sure he'd have to scrub himself raw to get the stench of corpse off his body. It was enough that he looked like one, he did not want to smell like one.
"Hey, Executioner!" a voice called out. Erik turned to see fellow Hunter Joseph Buquet rid himself of another moving cadaver, "I think I found your brother! Looks just like you!" he snickered as he tapped the rotting form with the toe of his boot.
Erik frowned. "I guarantee you, Buquet, if I were not in such a rush to be elsewhere, I would show you how unfunny I find your humour."
Buquet snorted. "Lemme guess. With your woman? Weird taste in men, she has. She'd probably find these boys attractive!" He indicated their walking-dead quarry.
Erik's amber eyes seemed to take on a dangerous glow as he slid his hand into the pocket of his duster, graceful fingers wrapping around coiled rope. "Do not make me hurt you!"
Buquet's smirk faded and he immediately grew silent, no doubt in his mind that the Executioner would not hesitate to follow through on his threat.
Christine and Meg's dorm room
"Meg?" Christine spoke as she sat on her bed and frowned at the book on her lap. "Is there something wrong with me?"
"How so?" Meg asked as she looked up from the ballet magazine she was reading.
"Well… " She pointed out her assigned reading for English. "I'm at the part where Hamlet is talking to a skull – and I'm thinking about Erik."
Meg considered that for a moment. "Maybe I would be worried – if your boyfriend didn't bear a passing resemblance to poor Yorick."
"I didn't mean it like that," Christine lay back on her bed, her voice growing softer. "It's just that Erik's been so busy with Guild stuff that I haven't seen him all week," she pouted.
"So you miss macking on your corpse-y boyfriend. No wonder you're fantasizing about skulls," she answered.
"You make it sound like I'm a necrophiliac," Christine said as she playfully tossed a pillow at Meg. "Erik is a living, breathing man."
"… who looks like a corpse…" Meg added, and immediately ducked a flying beanie baby. "A sexy corpse, though." She had to duck a Pokémon plushie next.
Soon, a full-fledged pillow and plushie fight broke out between the two girls. It didn't stop until they were both too tired to continue and their stomachs hurt from laughing and squealing.
They lay back on their beds, trying to catch their breaths.
"Feel better?" Meg asked.
"I…" Christine stopped, then seemed surprised. "Yeah! I do!"
"Thought so." Meg replied, then her voice grew quiet. "You're lucky, you know. Erik is as loyal as a puppy dog."
Christine pushed herself up on her elbows, brow furrowed. "Meggy?" She began, long since aware something had been bothering her friend all day. "What is it? Are you having trouble with RJ?"
Meg's face fell, and she glanced away. "He dumped me."
"What! WHEN?" Christine gasped.
"Last night."
"WHY?" Christine sputtered in disbelief.
"Because… I … I threatened to…" Meg bit her trembling lower lip, desperately trying to hold back tears. "Because I threatened to cut him off physically if he didn't treat me more like a girlfriend and less like a booty call."
Meg hugged herself. "He told me he had been with other girls … and that… if I cut him off, he'd just… just go to them instead…"
"Oh Meggy!" Christine immediately went to her friend's side and put an arm around her.
Meg's voice cracked and she buried her face in her hands. "I thought he was lying, just to get me mad but… his roommate… Steve said… he said RJ cheated on me. More than once!"
"Sweetie, I'm so sorry! Why didn't you tell me when you got in last night?"
Meg sniffled. "You were sleeping. I didn't want to… want to wake you with that…"
"No… oh honey, no! I'm always here you!" Christine cradled Meg's head against her shoulder, not caring that her friend's tears were soaking through the material of her cami.
Christine was so busy consoling her friend that she failed to notice the glowing yellow eyes staring down at them through the air ducts.
RJ's dorm room – Ten minutes later
Richard Firmin Jr. was startled awake as leather-clad hand clamped over his mouth and another grasped the front of his shirt, yanking him into a sitting position before lifting him into the air and shoving him through the open grate in the ceiling of his room.
The boy's eyes went wide as he was tossed into the metal tunnels and forced to come eye to eye with Death himself. "Holy SHIT!"
"Well… you certainly smell similar to it…" Death frowned, pressing a hand over the hole that constituted his nose. "I would think at your age, you would know how to control your bladder." He shrugged his black-clad shoulders. "But I suppose a good scare does that to a boy."
RJ shook his head. "What the… Erik?" he gasped, recognizing the voice now.
Erik cocked his head to the left. "Yes. That would be me. Ahh… but I forgot – you have never seen my face. Well," he smirked, "here it is. Handsome fellow, aren't I?"
Erik then frowned darkly. "I would suggest, however, that you do not tell any of your friends about my appearance or you shall be very sorry." He raised a smooth eyebrow, "And I doubt your father or Antoinette would be happy about such things either."
"N-no… w-won't say a thing!" RJ stuttered.
"Very well then. I suppose you would like to know why I dragged you up here?"
RJ nodded nervously.
"You made Little Giry cry." Erik answered simply. "After a hard night's work, I wanted to spend some quality time with my angel. Only I found her busy comforting her sobbing friend," he explained.
"And WHY was she sobbing?" Erik continued, but didn't wait for an answer. "Because a boy who likes to fancy himself a man broke her heart for the poorest of reasons - because he could not keep his pants on!"
Erik leaned in closer, allowing RJ a good look at his exposed visage. "I have no patience for a boy who treats a woman as if it is his right to take pleasure from her. That is a privilege!"
RJ scoffed at that. "Just because Christine hasn't screwed you yet, doesn't mean I need to deny myself!"
"What happens between Christine and myself is not your concern." Erik growled as he clamped a hand around RJ's throat. "And I would suggest you cease your commentary on the subject or this little discussion is not going to end well for you!"
RJ swallowed and quickly shut up, his fear returning ten-fold.
"That is better. Now…" Erik continued, bringing his hand back to his side. "I really do not care if you bed every whore in the city. It is the fact that you hurt Little Giry that angers me!"
"You see," Erik continued, "I have an allegiance towards the Giry family for reasons of my own and I am willing to act on their behalf when I see one has been mistreated. Now since Little Giry will not confront you on her own – and you truly deserve to be confronted…" He smiled coldly. "I have decided to do it for her! And I will continue these confrontations until I find that she has been properly apologized to."
Dean Giry's office – the next day
Giry held up a folder and handed it to the masked man before her. "This is all the information we have found about the latest happenings."
Erik flipped through the memos before him. "Shouldn't defeating the Leader have lessened our workload, rather than increased it?" he grumbled unhappily.
"None of this has anything to do with your father," Giry pointed out.
Erik scowled beneath his mask. "I would rather you not refer to him that way, Antoinette," he hissed.
"Well, regardless. He is not the one causing the disturbances. In fact, it is a shame he is in hiding, for we think whoever is doing this was one of his people. They have all scattered since his defeat and are near impossible to track down."
Erik frowned and tossed the folder back on her desk. "I have no patience for this," he growled as he began to pace back and forth.
Giry eyed him carefully. "You seem far more restless then usual, Erik. Is there something wrong?"
"Other than the fact I have not had any time with Christine since all this started, NO… what could POSSIBLY be wrong?" he snarled.
Giry let out a breath and leaned back against her desk, relieved. "Is that all it is, then?" she asked. For a moment, she had worried the Leader might have been forcing his influence once again. She was grateful to find Erik was simply in need of his beloved's companionship.
Her concern put to rest, Giry went through the folder on her desk once more. "We think we have found the source of our current problem," she said, and handed Erik a memo from the back of the folder. "It is a practitioner of dark arts that has only come to our attention recently. We believe she was hired for this particular job. Unfortunately, her power is such that her job will not be over until her life is."
"The Executioner will do what he must then…" Erik sighed, and Giry was grateful to note the hesitance in his voice once more, to see bits of Erik's old personality resurfacing.
It seemed Christine's attention had given him far more than Giry had expected.
Elsewhere - 2 hours later
Looking around, Erik noted the disarray of the room he was in. How had he gotten here now?
Ah yes… Firmin, André and himself were looking for the cause of the uprising of rotting corpses. But… they had come to find someone, hadn't they?
Yes, the lady who was supposedly behind it. Yet as they looked around now, she was nowhere to be seen, though there was much in the way of dead things lying about.
"We were supposed to get rid of someone, were we not?" Erik spoke up finally.
"Yes!" Firmin began, "She's right-" he turned to point at something, then furrowed his brow. "I could have sworn that woman was right here a few moments ago!"
Erik frowned. "It seems we were momentarily be-spelled to forget her existence." He slowly coiled his rope back up, and stopped to stare at it. It was splattered dark red and brown.
Perhaps he should wash it… scrub the stains out…
"Erik?" André began nervously. The man's eyes were frightening. Dark. Cold. "Are you… alright?"
Erik stood unemotional, "I do not appreciate my mind being played with!"
It had been happening far too much lately.
"Erik?" Firmin stepped forward hesitantly, seeing the muscles in Erik's jaw clench, the ice practically pouring off him. "Perhaps… you should spend some time with your lady?"
There was a flicker of light in those amber eyes as he glanced at Firmin, "Christine…" Erik whispered, then blinked quickly.
"Yes…" he answered finally. He shook his head violently, then took a few slow deep breaths. " Of course." He began to coil his rope. "She hasn't seen me all week."
Firmin gave a noticeable sigh of relief upon seeing slowly Erik return to himself.
"Now if we are done here," Erik continued coolly as he slid the rope into his duster, "I'll be leaving." He then offered a polite nod to the two men before him and disappeared into the shadows.
Erik's room – 3am that night
Christine opened her eyes slowly, feeling a warm weight on her body. She looked down to see Erik currently using her petite chest as a pillow, an arm stretched across her stomach, his hand dangling over the edge of the bed.
She turned a little to see the book he had been reading to her earlier now lay sloppily on the floor.
Erik had arrived in the air ducts to inform her that he was done for the night, and Christine had immediately gone to await him in his room. The two were a model of domesticity – playing "Mortal Kombat" on his PS2 for a few hours until their eyes grew heavy, leading Erik to read a book. Christine allowed his beautiful voice to lull her to sleep.
With a yawn, Christine stretched herself out, causing the arm on her stomach to curl around her waist.
She glanced down to see Erik's masked face in the dim light from the candles that decorated his room. With a careful tug of her fingers, she gently slid the cotton off, her thoughts going back to the conversation she had had earlier with Meg.
Erik is a living, breathing man, Christine had insisted.
… who looks like a corpse… Meg had replied.
Yes, her friend had been joking… but now Christine understood why Meg had screamed when she had inadvertently walked into their dorm room to see Christine curled up beside a deathly pale man with a skeletal face.
Christine had grown so used to the way Erik looked that she had forgotten what he looked like to others. No wonder he chose to stay hidden most of the time.
With a tender press of her lips atop his ebony hair, she gently trailed her fingers over his back, feeling the raised scars beneath the rough strips of mesh on his shirt.
Her gaze fell back to his face…
… and she was painfully reminded of the reason he had suffered such torture in the first place.
That's why, she thought bitterly as she closed her eyes and forced back a curse at those who had harmed him.
Christine's thoughts were interrupted as a graceful hand suddenly traveled up her side. Her lids fluttered open and she saw two glowing yellow eyes hovering above her. "Did we fall asleep?"
"Apparently," she replied softly as she traced her fingers along his gaunt cheek. Upon feeling her skin against his, he quickly placed a hand over his face - a long ago learned reaction.
"I took it off," she answered, quite aware of his concern.
He lowered his hand, his voice quiet when he spoke. "Yes. Of course. Sometimes I forget that you are used to this." Erik made himself comfortable beside Christine, gathering the petite girl against him before resting her head upon his shoulder.
"Hey, Erik?" Christine began softly, quite content in their current position.
"Hmm?"
"Weird thing happened earlier today," she explained as her fingers absently slid beneath the hem of Erik's shirt. She noted his momentary flinch at the contact and wasn't sure whether to be relieved he was slowly returning to his old ways, or worried that he would shy away from all physical contact again.
"RJ came into our dorm and apologized to Meg for being a dumbass."
"Is that so?" Erik answered. "Hopefully she did not agree to take him back."
"No," she replied as she affectionately traced her fingers over his torso, "but the fact he even apologized in the first place surprised me. It makes me wonder what drove him to do that."
"Perhaps a ghost?" he asked.
Her hand froze against his chest. "You talked to him?"
Erik shrugged. "Maybe a little. Specter to College boy. Showed him the error of his ways."
"You scared him, didn't you?" she frowned.
"Or maybe I just made him feel guilty," he offered, but sensed Christine didn't buy that. He let out a sigh. "Well, angel, I cannot help it if the boy was so frightened of me he pissed his pants. But Little Giry deserved an apology at least. Don't you agree?"
Christine's fingers brushed his skin again as she snuggled closer. "Yes, she did. And RJ deserves to be castrated for being such a bastard!"
Erik winced at that. "Remind me never to displease you."
"Sorry, but I have no patience for guys who cheat. And to use the excuse that Meg wouldn't give him what he wanted…" she shook her head in disgust.
"Whereas here I am, simply content to have you beside me," he mused.
She smiled at that. "You're one of a kind."
"Yes. And thank goodness for that. Imagine another ugly bastard like me running around?"
"Don't talk like that," Christine scolded gently, then furrowed her brow as her curious fingers found a raised patch of skin a few inches above his heart. "What's this?"
"Ah. Yes. That." She could hear the scowl in his voice. "A misunderstanding when I was seventeen," he said. "I was on my first solo hunt and found my quarry feeding. Naturally I took care of the thing, but a police officer had appeared on the scene - the victim had initially called 911 for help." Erik explained.
Christine worried where this was going.
"My mask had come off during the fight – I was not as adept then as I am now - and the poor fool saw my face and thought I was no better than that which I had destroyed. He became a little trigger happy." Erik shrugged. "Luckily he was a bad shot."
Christine wrapped an arm tightly around him. "What happened afterwards?"
"The officer was taken care of." Erik replied, and felt Christine immediately stiffen. He closed his eyes a moment, regretting his misplaced words.
"Not by me, Christine," he clarified softly. "By his superiors." He took a deep breath, "The man my quarry had tried to make a meal out of told them I had saved his life. The rookie was heavily reprimanded for firing his weapon before fully assessing the situation."
"Oh," was all Christine could say before relaxing against him once again.
There were a few moments of silence before Erik spoke again. "Do you want me to take you back to your room?" He asked, wondering if he had made her uneasy in any way.
She raised her head a little to check the clock on his nightstand. "Meg will still be sleeping. I don't want to wake her." She met his eyes, "Will you be comfortable if I stay here for the rest of the night?"
"Quite comfortable." He answered. "But it was you I was concerned about."
He could see Christine's smile in the glow of the candlelight. "I'm fine." She rested her head on his shoulder again. "We should do this more often." She sighed contentedly. "A lot of girls here sleep with their boyfriends."
She suddenly realized what she said and immediately regretted her words. "I meant… SLEEP sleep… not… um… you know… the OTHER kind of sleep… where you don't actually sleep…"
Erik chuckled quietly at her embarrassment. "I'm fine with that, angel. I seem to be in better control of my faculties as of late."
"Good," she answered softly. The two moved themselves to settle beneath the blankets and Christine spoke once again. "Erik…?" she started nervously.
"Yes?"
"It… it's not that I wouldn't… not sleep… It's just … maybe… a bit…. later…"
"I will leave such things up to your discretion, angel."
Truth be told, Erik would be the first to admit he had no idea what to do with Christine aside from knowing the scientific theory of how two bodies should work.
At the moment, however, his practical knowledge - or lack thereof - seemed a rather moot point.
END OF EPISODE 35