A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir. And much thanks to Gondolier for her little plot bunny.
Episode 58: Free
By: Elektra
Manager's Office
"Where is she!" Erik demanded as he burst into André and Firmin's office. Not bothering to see who else was in the room, he grabbed the nearest manager by the shirt, shaking him with purpose. "Where is CHRISTINE?"
"Erik! Please… calm down!" Giry spoke up as she came to Firmin's aid. "He had nothing to do with this."
Erik's golden eyes narrowed as he glared at the man in his clutches. "So help me, if something has happened to her…"
"Erik…" He felt a strong hand on his shoulder and turned to see Nadir, who had just entered the room. "Let Richard be."
Erik let go of Firmin and turned his rage on Nadir. "What are YOU doing here?"
"Maddy wanted to see the opera. Specifically, Christine's performance," Nadir answered. It was only then Erik noticed Madeline hovering nervously by the doorway.
"Honestly, Erik," Firmin began cautiously, rubbing his tender neck. "We thought it was YOU who took her from the stage for some rendezvous. It was quite theatrical."
He quickly backed away as Erik focused his anger on him again. "But of course, it wasn't you."
Erik swore under his breath and quickly spun on his heel and headed out of the office, brushing past Madeline as if she were not there.
"Where's he going?" Madeline asked.
"I do not know," Nadir said, "but it might be wise to follow him."
Laramie Drive
Christine glared at the man leaning against the wall in front of her. "Let me go!" she demanded.
"Don't you like it?" Shay asked, gesturing around the small bedroom that surrounded them. "Do you know how expensive this bedroom set was?" He ran his fingers over the dark cherry vanity, polished to perfection. "It's Louis-Phillipe!"
Christine did not seem interested. "Why did you bring me here?"
Shay shrugged. "Why indeed? You're the only one who can bring my boy back to me." His golden eyes caught her lovely blue ones. "You WILL bring him back to me…" he commanded.
Christine remained unaffected. "I don't think so."
Shay seemed taken aback by the blatant refusal. "Yes you will!"
"No I won't! Deal with it!" Christine frowned and moved to sit upon the bed, ignoring him.
Shay attempted another tactic. "Tsk tsk. You're not being very grateful. Here I've given you this lovely new room, and you look upon me as if I'm dirt on your Sketchers!" Shay stepped a few feet away. "Perhaps THIS form is more appealing?"
Christine glanced back at Shay and froze, eyes wide.
Shay's cheeks became thin, almost skeletal. His nose seemed to recede until it was nothing but a hole, his eyes sunk deeper into his head and his already pale skin grew even paler, revealing blue-black lines beneath the surface.
Last but not least, his ebony hair grew a few inches longer, until it brushed past his shoulders.
He smirked coldly. "Surprised? I can take many forms. I really DO look like my son now, don't I?" he asked, then studied her a moment. "Ah, you're wondering if this is my true form. Well, it's not. And thank goodness for that."
He slid on the bed beside Christine and she immediately jumped to her feet and headed to the opposite side of the room.
He pouted, feigning disappointment. "Oh, Miss Daaé… such cruel rejection! And here I thought you would find me far more attractive now, what with your taste in men leaning towards the morbid."
"You're sick!" Christine snapped.
Shay laughed heartily at that. "This from the woman who allows a living corpse to pollute her body on a regular basis. Oh really, my dear. Your hypocrisy astounds me."
Christine turned away from him, unable to stare any longer at the creature pretending to be Erik. "Change back," she demanded softly, hugging herself tightly.
"Surely you don't find your lover's appearance upsetting, do you? Because from what I have seen in my son's mind, you seem to enjoy him."
"You wouldn't understand…" Christine replied quietly.
"Let's see now." Shay narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the girl before him. "You don't find him attractive in the conventional sense, but you do find him appealing. Or perhaps fascinating would be a better word. He is a freak, but he is your freak, is that it?"
Christine let out a startled shout as Shay appeared only inches from her, returned once more to his handsome self. "My son's 'freakishness' excites you, doesn't it Miss Daaé?"
Christine narrowed her eyes. "I refuse to talk about our relationship with a monster like you!" She walked away from him once again.
"Oh, you don't have to talk. I can glean what information I want from your pretty little head."
Shay grabbed Christine's arm and spun her around to face him once again, grasping her chin in strong fingers to force her to look up at him. "I can see all those sickening emotion he stirs in you. It is enough to make me retch! I'm far more interested in the way his hands caress you in all the right places. How he drives you wild when he kisses every last inch of your body."
Shay then let out a laugh. "Oh, how patient you were with him in the beginning. I mean, all that awkward fumbling before he finally figured out how to make you-"
"SHUT UP!" Christine interrupted as she desperately attempted to pull away from him, a wave of nausea threatening to overtake her.
Shay's grip was unyielding. He smirked coldly. "Shame on you, Christine. Playing Miss Innocent when you let him do such naughty things!"
He leaned in closer, lowering his face to allow his lips to hover mere inches from hers. "I assure you, little one, I can make you forget him so very easily. You will even wonder why you ever wanted him in the first place."
Christine's eyes grew wide, a paralyzing fear pressing down on her. Shay seemed intent on something, his eyes showing a great attempt at concentration. Christine was beginning to get a headache, but she would not yield to whatever trick he was trying to play on her mind.
"You're only human!" he spat. "Why is this so DIFFICULT?"
"Sytri…" A calm female voice interrupted the conversation.
Shay turned to see Martine standing in the doorway of the little room. "Is there a reason for this interruption, Ms. Robichaux?" he snapped in frustrated anger.
"You would better spend your time preparing for your future guests rather than taunting a little girl," Martine answered with disapproval.
"I suppose you have a point," Shay replied. He glanced back at Christine. "We will finish our chat later."
Martine watched as he brushed past her and headed down the hall, then turned to see the girl fall to her knees and sob as she covered her mouth with shaking hands.
"You find Sytri repulsive, don't you?" Martine asked. "We are agreed on that." She studied the girl for a few moments, then spoke again, her voice gentler then it had ever been. "You care for his son deeply."
"Shay doesn't get it," Christine responded softly.
"Of course not. A creature like Sytri cannot understand that your physical relationship is only in direct response to your emotional relationship."
"Erik is nothing like his father. Thank God."
"He is and he isn't." Martine leaned against the doorframe. "Your lover was called a demon child when he was little, Miss Daaé."
Before Christine could ask how she knew, Martine continued. "And while that was a cruelty brought about by those who had the misfortune of seeing him unmasked, it was closer to the truth than you think."
"What are you saying?" Christine asked suspiciously.
"I am saying your lover is human only as far as his mother is human. Sytri is another story altogether. Haven't you figured it out yet?" she asked.
Martine didn't wait for an answer as she slipped out of the room and shut the door, a lock clicking into place before Christine heard the woman's shoes clacking down the hall.
Beneath the Populaire
Nadir sighed as he watched Erik rip apart his home in a rage. "Is destroying things the only way you can think to channel your anger, Erik?"
Erik glared at the man a few feet from him. "You did not have to follow me!" he hissed.
Erik knew there was a far more positive way to channel his energy - if only he knew who had taken Christine. Oh yes… he would certainly channel his destructive energy on THAT person.
About to overturn another table, Erik stopped when he saw the small white iPod sitting beside his computer.
He remembered Christine bringing it down to him no more than two days earlier, excited to show him her first 'big' purchase with the salary she had received from the Populaire. He recalled how thrilled she was to be making far more than minimum wage and able to afford a purchase like this once in a while.
He had asked Christine to leave the iPod with him. He had planned to upload a special song – a Cam exclusive, he had said. A song he had written for her and her alone.
He had finished it last night.
Erik grabbed the little white device and turned it on.
"Is that yours?" Nadir asked as he glanced over Erik's shoulder. Erik said nothing as he skipped through the photos Christine had uploaded to her new toy: Christine smiling with her friends, in rehearsal, and…
Erik pulled the iPod out of Nadir's view as he stared at the last picture. It was a picture of himself, simply entitled 'My Erik'.
He remembered when Christine had taken this picture, catching him by surprise as he had stepped out of the bathroom with naught but a bathtowel wrapped about his waist, his long wet hair hiding his hideousness as he scrubbed at the ebony locks with a smaller towel.
Save for his usual death-like pallor, he could have easily been mistaken for-
"Shay!"
Nadir blinked at Erik's sudden outburst. "Pardon?"
Erik turned off the iPod and grabbed his duster, checking to make sure his rope was in his pocket.
Nadir followed quickly as Erik rushed out into the night.
Laramie Dr.
Shay was waiting for his visitor the moment he arrived.
"What, no hug for daddy?" Shay asked, holding his arms wide as Erik broke down the front door.
The younger man swung a wide roundhouse at his father's head, catching Shay across the temple. Shay blinked away the cobwebs and regained his composure. "Naughty boy. Christine was nicer, you know."
Erik narrowed his eyes, anger burning through his very body. "Where is she?" he demanded "So help me, if you have TOUCHED her-"
"Well, I have not had a chance to touch her yet, but I'll take care of that when we're done here."
"No you won't!" Erik sent hard kick to Shay's crotch, sending him reeling back against the wall and doubling over momentarily.
Before Erik could take advantage, however, Shay's leg swung out and flipped his son to the ground. "That HURT!" he hissed before dropping a knee into Erik's stomach. "And trust me, there is a LOT to hurt, boy!"
Erik was only briefly aware of three more people entering the home through the broken door. Nadir, Firmin, and Giry.
The group was quickly set upon by the few creatures still under Shay's control but he was far too focused on the man before him to care.
The masked hunter sent a heart punch square into Shay's chest, knocking the wind out of the creature's very body. It allowed Erik to land three more blows to his father.
A rush of anger filled Shay's very being, his golden eyes almost glowing as he swung a fist up, catching Erik with an uppercut that sent a tiny spray of blood across the floor and knocked the mask from his face.
Before Erik could gather his thoughts - or his mask - Shay caught him with Adam's rope, pulling tightly as he purposely choked the life out of his son. "Do as I say, son. Do not make this difficult!"
Erik's vision began to blur as he saw Nadir, Firmin and Giry fighting off their mindless opponents with great effort, the lone female of the group putting her cane to good use.
"Don't you know about the first Executioner, Erik?" Shay asked as he relaxed the rope ever so slightly. "Or perhaps Gus felt no need to share that with you."
Before Erik could respond, images suddenly formed before his eyes and assaulted his senses:
Three decades ago
A restless demon sat upon a stone throne surrounded by fire, the stench of brimstone almost suffocating.
This was Sytri: a lesser Prince of Hell and commander of several legions.
He was bored. So very bored. He had heard about the world above, wanted to see it for himself. He ordered one of his subordinates to take control of what little armies he owned, and dared to invoke the wrath of a being far more powerful than himself as he forced his way up and out of his little corner of Hell.
Such a grand time he had in the world above, finding females who would lay with him upon first glance of the beautiful human form he had fashioned for himself.
But he was still bored.
Walking alone one night, however, he came upon the strangest creatures indeed. Similar to demons like himself, but yet only able to sustain their selves by feeding upon those who dwelled in this world - the weaker humans.
One silly creature had mistaken him for one of those humans and had attempted to attack. Sytri fought and destroyed it easily while a small group of men armed with sharp wooden weapons watched on in wonder.
One particular man came up to him afterwards - a portly fellow this one was, known to his fellow officers as Gus - and asked Sytri if he would like to aid this group in the future.
Interested in the possibilities, Sytri joined them. The blind fools had no idea whom or WHAT they had invited into their little group.
Sytri cared not.
He spent much time with these humans, fighting the creatures that preyed on their species. Soon the group found some of their own kind just as evil, if not worse, than the creatures who fed upon them.
By this time, Sytri had acquired a rope, though it was not just any rope. It was made of catgut, coiled thin and tight. He used it to great extent, killing… or as the humans preferred to call it - executing - those that could not be defeated any other way.
Fascinating, the art of death and the surge it sent through Sytri's body when he looked upon his morbid canvas.
Perhaps he was too long in human form, for he was starting to develop sensations he had not had before. He grew drunk on the screams of his victims, enjoyed using the female body far more than he had previous, and simply began to LIVE as he had not done in his own world.
But his hunger for violence, his thirst for blood, soon became too much for the little group of Hunters to handle. The portly leader had asked him why... why he killed those that had not needed to be killed.
Oh yes... there were some that could have been dealt with in a different way. Some whose powers could have been taken easily without harm.
And there were some that had nothing to do with any of it. Some that looked at Sytri the wrong way, or had raised his ire in some form or another.
He was becoming too dangerous for the Guild - yes, that is what they called themselves now: The Hunter's Guild.
He was relieved of his duties, asked to 'go away', in as many words. Thus, he did, and found solace in yet another female body. One that he returned to continuously. This one was named Madeline.
And she became pregnant with his child.
Procreating was not something his kind was usually capable of, but it had been known to happen on occasion. An unnatural accident, for lack of a better term. Not impossible, but hardly probable, else Sytri would have had hundreds of bastard children littered about the human world.
Certainly this child would be special.
Meanwhile, the Hunters had found themselves another Executioner - a hired hit-man known for working with the mafia. He would only kill those he was hired to kill without worry for innocents.
But Sytri still wanted a taste of death and was determined to get it - even if he had to use another's mind to do it.
He possessed this hit-man's very soul and led him on a glorious killing spree.
The Hunters had to lock the man up.
With his body no longer accessible to Sytri, the demon attempted to find another, for watching others kill at his whim had excited him far more than killing with his own two hands.
Before he could carry out his search, however, Madeline gave birth to his child.
An ugly thing, this atrocity she called Erik. He appeared as Death itself: a living, breathing child-corpse - an unfortunate side effect of breeding with a lowly human.
But perhaps Sytri could use him regardless.
Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. The Hunters found Sytri — their numbers having increased exponentially now. They knew he was behind their new Executioner's mindless killing spree.
Thus, they sent Sytri back where he came from.
Oh it was quite a battle indeed, old magick against demonic will. But in the end, Sytri's strength was taken and he succumbed to their attack, returning back to the world underground, surrounded once again by fire and brimstone.
Sytri swore he would be back. And this time, he would be far more powerful than he was before. This time, he would not let the Hunters return him home.
And this time, he would find his child and teach the boy to follow in his footsteps.
"But that didn't happen, did it?" Shay spoke, pulling Erik out of the strange waking dream he was in. "No, you wanted to be 'good'. You let your useless human heart take control. How very disappointing."
He yanked the rope harder, until a sharp burning pain swept through his arm.
Shay looked to see Erik had pulled a stake out of his coat and impaled it through his bicept. The demon quickly let go of the rope and yanked the wood out.
"Now now, son, that was hardly nice! You're like your mother, you know. Sneaky little bitch, she was. If I had raised you, things would have been different. Shame I was sent back only moments after I saw your ugly little face."
Erik stumbled back and pulled the rope over his head, throwing it to the floor as he coughed violently, gasping in the oxygen denied him.
"I saw you in the hospital nursery, you know." Shay continued as he watched Erik attempt to regulate his breathing once more. "I wanted to take you then, but the Guild had come for me."
He tossed the stake to the floor, dark thick blood blossoming on the sleeve of his shirt. "I took a few of them out before they could finally rid themselves of me. I really did not LIKE being sent back." He smirked coldly. "Luckily, I have friends in high– or rather, low – places and was able to return. But… alas… many years later. Time means nothing down there. It's like one very long day. One very long BORING-"
His words were cut off as Erik's rope found Shay's neck. "Where is Christine?"
"One track mind…" Shay choked out. "She's unmolested… so far," he coughed as Erik tightened the lasso, falling to his knees, eyes wide. "What… what's … happening? I… I should be able to… to break… free…"
Shay glanced off to the side, only to see Martine chanting something under her breath. He let out a harsh laugh. "Is that it then?" he asked. "And here… here I thought… my boy was… was getting stronger…"
Martine met Shay's eyes, her chanting growing louder.
He glanced back at Erik and smiled weakly. "It… it was her. All this time… and I… didn't… didn't even know."
Martine smirked as she watched Shay suffering before her very eyes. "Sytri can now be killed as all mortals can. Do what you wish with him."
Erik focused his attention on Shay, a chilling smile appearing on his pale lips, his skeletal face almost joyful.
He was about to snap the demon's neck when three gunshots suddenly rang out, splitting the air.
Shay looked down at his shirt and noticed the blood blossoming upon the cloth – darker than red, but not quite black.
Blood that did not belong to anything human.
Shay looked up slowly. "I didn't think you had it in you, Madeline…"
All eyes turned to the shaking woman several feet away standing behind Nadir. She held a smoking gun in her trembling hands.
"MADDY! Why aren't you in the car?" Nadir asked. "Where did you-" he stopped and quickly pushed back his coat only to find his holster empty.
"Did I ever tell you, Nadir," Madeline interrupted, "that I was a pickpocket? It was on my long list of crimes."
"I remember now… " Shay said weakly. "You once took my wallet… I… I never forgave you for…" unable to speak any longer, he fell face down, a dark pool of liquid forming beneath him.
Erik did not move for a moment. When he gathered his wits once again, he slowly slid his rope from Shay's neck.
"Why, Madeline?" Erik demanded. "I was in control of the situation!"
Madeline slowly lowered the gun. "I know, but I couldn't… couldn't let you live with killing your own father…" The weapon clattered to the ground. "One thing I could do for you. For… my son…"
She then swayed unsteadily, the reality of what she had just done hitting her, sending her body into emotional shock.
A criminal she may have been, but Madeline Renau had never once taken a life.
Nadir's arms quickly shot out and caught the woman before she fell.
Erik was the first, and only, one to speak. "Then… it's over…"
The Louis-Phillipe Room
"Erik!" Christine cried out as the door to her comfortable jail opened to reveal a somewhat damaged Erik.
She ran to him and he quickly wrapped his arms around her, lifting the shaking girl off the floor easily as he held her tight. She clutched at him and allowed her emotions to take over, relieved that it was him and not some sick apparition brought about by Shay's power.
Christine desperately kissed every inch of Erik's horrid face, ignoring the tang of blood from his obvious injuries. She was only grateful that he was alive and well.
"He is gone, Christine," Erik told her. "My father will never bother us again."
Christine met his eyes and saw the truth in them. This led to a rather emotionally charged kiss upon his bruised mouth. He didn't seem to mind the pain.
"Wait… that lady. Martine? Where is she?"
Erik seemed perplexed, "I do not know. I haven't seen her since Shay was killed."
Christine nodded, "Let's get out of here."
"Of course," he answered, but instead of placing Christine back on her feet, he scooped her legs up with his other arm.
"I'm ok. I can walk," she informed him.
"I know," he answered as he cradled her against his chest, not wanting to let go unless he absolutely had to. She gave in and rested her head against his shoulder as he headed down the hall.
His mind closed to everything but Christine, it was her soft little voice in his ear that surprised him. "Yes…"
Erik looked at the girl in his arms. "Pardon?"
"That's my answer. Yes."
Erik furrowed his brow. "What was the question?"
She smiled softly as she reached up to tuck a long lock of hair behind his ear. "The one you asked me our first night together, when you were all emotional and weepy afterwards."
Erik buried his face against Christine's neck and silently let the tears fall. The feel of her warm softness beneath him, surrounding him, his body still very much alive with the sensations of what had just passed between them, felt like nothing less than heaven.
That he could not bear to lose her was without question, but now, tonight, he knew he could not live without her.
"Marry me?" He begged. "Please… Christine. Be my wife? Take your poor Erik for a husband? Be his soul?" He raised his head and met her eyes, seeing the surprise and disbelief in them.
"E-Erik…I…" She could not find the words.
He allowed a gentle smile. "Feel free to answer any time within the next seventy years."
Erik studied Christine now, her eyes clear and sure. Those eyes said far more than he dreamed possible.
Erik swallowed hard, not wanting to lose his composure in front of Giry and Firmin, who now joined his side along with Nadir, currently carrying an unconscious Madeline – much like Erik was carrying Christine.
Firmin looked at the two men on either side of him, then glanced at Giry. "I don't think my back is strong enough to lift you, my dear…"
Giry raised an eyebrow. "My cane will find your skull if you try!"
"Such a pleasant way with words. That is why I love you, Antoinette." Firmin answered, settling for slipping an arm about Giry's shoulders instead. He was surprised he didn't get scolded for attempting even that small act of affection in front of others.
But like the rest, Giry was far too exhausted to care.
END OF EPISODE 58
A/N: The end is near...