Rook to King's level 2
By the end of the second day one of the older guard felt sorry for the deformed prisoner and during Pierrick's leave, slackened the manacles so that he could lower his arms. The guard gave him clean water from a glass and Erik drank thirstily. He kept his eyes on the guard as he drank. "I'm Gaspard. What the hell could you have done to deserve this?" Erik did not answer. Gaspard could not have been less than fifty years old. He had brown eyes with laugh wrinkles around the eyes. He did not have the attitude of a prison guard. Gaspard looked at the prisoner with pity then just turned away and went back to his post.
They kept the metal collar around Erik's neck. The collar was of such a width that he was unable to bend his head back or forward In order to sleep, he leaned his head against the wall. The collar chain was much too short to allow him to lie down. As much as he tried he was unable to hide his disgrace. Twice a day they fed him gruel, water and a lump of bread. The gruel and water were served on the same containers they used to feed the guard's dog. In order to eat or drink he would have to lap it up. Erik refused to touch it.
Before the end of the day Léandre strolled into the cell with the mirror in hand. He laughed the moment he saw Erik's expression. "Here comes the boogieman!" Furious with himself Erik began to quiver as his hair was snatched back and the mirror was thrust in front of him. He instinctively closed his eyes. Léandre ordered another round of kicks but with his weakened stomach muscles his eyes opened in a strange grimace after the second well placed kick connected. He could hear Léandre's laughter but was unable to restrain his reaction to the image, his stomach dry heaved in fear since it was empty. He also heard whimpers which he imagined came from his mouth as his eyes again became glued to the mirror. And always the laughter in the background as his mind and eyes again traveled in time.
Constantly exposed as he was, Erik was unable to think. He knew his survival depended on his intelligence, on being able to think clearly but he could not. No idea came to him to escape this inferno. His entire thought pattern lay between wishing he could hide his face and doubts about Christine's loyalty.
Even the gypsies had allowed him some dignity, some way to cover his shame. Every time a guard passed by a comment was made as to how hideous or revolting his face was. Only the older guard kept away and looked upon him in pity. The other guards laughed and taunted him. Keeping to his orders Pierrick made sure there was always a passing spectator. Visitors to other detainees were passed by his cell. The men muttered in disgust, the women screeched and a couple lost their meal and still they could not tear their eyes off his ruined face and he could not hide it. Not one of his visitors asked for mercy for him although most of the women made the sign of the cross in protection for themselves. Instead of getting used to it each comment flayed against him as physical punishment could not. He considered angering Léandre to the point where he would kill him but thoughts of Christine stopped him from taking any rash action. Erik still had the Punjab lasso in his pocket but the way he was tied it was useless to him.
Still chuckling from Erik's latest 'preening' session, Léandre held the mirror securely tucked under his arm. "An iron cage will subdue any beast" said Léandre to his cousin.
Raoul was rooted to his spot. He turned his head to look at Léandre. He would have never imagined this sight.
"You sent for me to see this?"
"Oh come on Raoul don't look at me like that! Remember that this is the same beast that took your fiancé away from you. Have a little fun with him". He walked away leaving Raoul with Erik.
"Jesus Christ, Léandre what have you done?" Raoul paled to see the state of the Creature.
Erik recognized Raoul's voice before he came into view. He wanted to hide his face from the vicomte but was unable to. How he wished he had the filthiest of rags thrown over his head. He supposed the vicomte had come to finish his cousin's job. He could take anything, insults, a beating, but not another minute in front of that accursed mirror. He felt the quiver begin again in his gut in anticipation of another session.
From the shadows of the cell Raoul heard Erik say "You too have come to mock me Vicomte?"
He could not belief that that rasping voice belonged to the man his Lotte had chosen over him. The melodious enigmatic voice was gone. He wondered how much more of the man had been destroyed. "I've had nothing to do with this…God…I didn't know"
"Take a good look, everyone else has"
"I have seen your face many times. Remember? It is nothing new to me."
"Your cousin seems to be fascinated by it"
"I am not he"
Erik took a good look at Raoul's face and found no pleasure there. "No, you are not"
He was sure Raoul was telling the truth. In the time he had spent in the vicomte's home he had gotten to know some things about the man's character. He would never treat another human being like this.
Raoul still hated the Creature but he would never have done this. He would have fought him anywhere, anytime, like a man. Even before he came to respect the intellect, the talent and the man, he would never have bound and exposed him like an animal. Now he was sickened by the display of cruelty. He wondered what Phillippe would do.
"Is she with you?" Erik rasped.
"You took her away" Raoul felt sudden panic grip him. How could the Creature not know where Christine was? Was he delusional because of the beatings? "Where did you leave Christine?"
Erik made up his mind. He preferred to see her with the vicomte than suffering alone in the cave. "I took her to a cavern. I thought she might have made it to you"
"Is she still there? She has to be"
"You must rescue her Vicomte. I probably won't make it"
"I…where is this cave?
"Swear that you will rescue her and not let your cousin know of her whereabouts"
"Yes"
"Swear it!" Erik hated having to trust someone else. Now, having to trust her former fiancé with her life was killing him. Christine's fate would be in the vicomte's hands again.
"I swear this will stay between the two of us"
"Come closer then". Raoul approached him with no fear but a heart full of pity for the man who had taken his true love. The Creature looked so terrible and sounded so feeble that perhaps he was really dying. Once Christine was safe, he would see what he could do for him if the Creature still lived.
The third day was no different except that at the beginning of his special session Erik reminded Léandre that thanks to his sword he too was now imperfect. The mirror session was cut short and a severe beating ensued. Pierrick was given free license but with strict orders not to kill or maim him.
Next morning from the satisfied look on Erik's face Léandre realized Erik's victory. From then on no matter what Erik said or did the mirror sessions were never cut short again. The interruptions were dealt with harshly but his ruined face was shoved in front of the mirror again. To Léandre's delight once in front of the dreaded mirror Erik never failed to look into it. Even when the mirror was put at different angles his eyes like suicidal moths were drawn to it as if it were fire. He wondered if Erik hoped each time he looked at himself that the deformity would have improved or disappeared. Léandre rejoiced in dashing that bubble for him every single day.
On the fifth day after his imprisonment his withdrawal symptoms came upon him in earnest. He shook uncontrollably his body twisting as it was attached to the wall. His mind went blank for hours on end. He was beaten by the guards when he yelled too loudly. Erik tried to bargain with anyone within ear shot and begged for someone to give him something, anything to take away his drug inflicted pain and yearning. Pierrick laughed and enjoyed watching him lose all control and scream until he was hoarse. His belly shook in mirth. As the morphine lost its hold on him, Erik was subject to severe cramps that wracked his body mercilessly. He developed facial tics which made his special sessions even more entertaining for Léandre and more torturous for him. Twice he passed out during the sessions. He was summarily applied a dosing from a water hose until he awakened. The session continued until Léandre tired of laughing.
A few days later morphine finally let him go. The cravings left as did the craps and tics. Although his body felt ravaged, Erik was again able to think. His tormentors would never realize their mistake in not keeping him drugged.
A/N: Finally Erik is free of the morphine…and cold turkey no less!
Sorry for another cliffy but it couldn't be helped. Please review.
