A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros
Episode 11
By: Elektra
The Populaire – Manager's office
"This should say twenty-five percent commission," Loki frowned as he looked over the sheet of paper before him. Erik and Christine had been granted permission to use the manager's office on their day off in the hopes of getting in touch with the trickster.
Erik laughed harshly, "Do you think I am a fool like Oren?" he asked. "Your commission should be no more than fifteen percent! I have done my homework. Of course, I think even that is too much for you, but I will find your alter-ego useful."
Loki sighed, "Fine. Lowell Key will only take a fifteen percent commission from CAM,"
"Good. Then sign here," Erik indicated the contract before him, "And know that this contract is not a legal one, but one to keep an untrustworthy god in his place. You understand? The Guild has access to certain things that may make your immortal life rather uncomfortable should you try to cheat me..."
"Yes yes, I understand," Loki grumbled, and quickly signed his name. Erik did the same, and Christine was there to sign as a witness.
"Now," Loki stood up, "I believe CAM should have some publicity shots taken to satiate the public's curiousity. With the mask, of course. It will be your gimmick. Goodness knows no one wants to see your face."
Erik narrowed his eyes and glared at Loki, "I am beginning to have second thoughts…"
Loki ignored his comment and continued, "I will issue a press release saying that you are only accessible through ME. Should Christine be bothered because of you, or should you be hounded by the press in your private life, then the ones responsible will be on my blacklist. I will also apologize for your behaviour the other day."
"My behaviour?" Erik asked.
"Do you deny you attacked a group of reporters as you were leaving the Populaire?"
"They dared to touch my mask! Rip it from my face!" Erik hissed.
"As I thought," Loki sighed. "It was some rather bad press."
"It was indeed…" a voice interrupted.
The group turned to see two police officers – a male and a female - standing a few feet away.
"Mr. Garner," the male officer held out a pair of handcuffs, "You're under arrest for assault."
"Wait a sec! Who's charging him?" Christine demanded. "Those photographers invaded our privacy. One of them grabbed for him!"
"That's not our concern," the female officer said.
Christine was about to protest again, but Erik stepped forward and held his wrists out, "This is nothing new to me," he muttered. "It will be cleared up shortly. Get in touch with our lawyer, love. The number is in the phonebook in my study."
Christine nodded, then quickly reached into her purse and pulled out a pen and paper. She scribbled down the names and badge numbers on the officers' uniforms as they read Erik his rights and cuffed his hands behind his back before leading him out.
"I'll make sure our lawyer knows who you two are!" She shouted out after the officers.
Christine sunk down in a chair and hung her head when they were gone.
"I could break him free in a snap, if you wish," Loki offered.
"No… no that would make things worse," Christine replied. "We'll have to deal with this the mortal way," she let out a sigh, "but thanks for the offer."
"Understood," Loki replied, then a thought came to him, "By the way… how many CAM songs has Erik written? Enough for an album? I'd consider putting something together while he's… indisposed. It might even sell better now that he's in jail."
Christine could only stare dumbfounded at the thoughtless god.
Laramie Dr.
I sit before the mirror in my room and note how different I look from what I remember. My ebony hair now has several blonde streaks. Natural streaks, as odd as that is. It is all part of the other one - the sickeningly gentle creature who is currently borrowing my body.
Unfortunately, merging with him has now made me look like a member of a boy band .
Alas, I must admit to SOME improvement – my body is brawnier, and my colour is tanned bronze. I am different enough not to be recognized as who I once was, and that is for the better.
I suppose I must thank Hades for the opportunity to return.
Such a gift comes with a price though, I know this. He has asked for information from above, and I have been giving it to him… but he grows bored and wants more. Now that he is awake, he thinks he deserves the rights to those that death claims.
I know there is another awoken who has her own world of souls, but she is inconsequential. The souls Hel takes are those that have been claimed by age and disease. She is an ugly thing anyway, and is quite happy with her useless companions in her underworld of ice and snow.
Hades is smarter. He wants the healthy souls - the young ones taken by violence or recklessness.
He has asked for these in return for allowing me to remain here. Should I disappoint, he will rip me from my rightful body.
I must admit, though, he is far more accommodating than my last master.
Therefore, if Hades wishes for souls, I will not deny him. I have several creatures at my beck and call that will gladly give him what he needs, and find themselves well fed in return.
And here is where my thoughts take a down turn. There is one who can still stop me. The only one who ever could stop me.
But even I know it is useless to try and rid myself of him through others. It has proved unsuccessful time and again. I need to deal with him myself, if only I can control this body long enough to do so.
Of course, that does not mean I cannot have my fun in sending others to damage him to a certain extent. To put him through cruel and unusual punishment. I know he will get out of such situations. He always does, but it is still enjoyable to watch.
There was once a time I wished him as my ally. Now, however, I only wish him pain and suffering.
No matter. He will get what is due. I have far more pressing matters at the moment.
I truly should thank Martine for her excellent skills in reanimating my shell. A shame she did not consider that I would find my way back once she gave it to her new plaything. To think she even tried to exorcise me when she grew suspicious of my presence.
She only made things worse: Her spell made me stronger. Allowed me to take control when HE was sleeping.
I simply need to find a way to make him sleep permanently…
54th Precinct – later
Christine arrived at the police precinct as soon as she could. She immediately went up to the clerk and demanded to see Erik.
"What is the name again?" the clerk asked as he checked the computer.
"Erik Garner. He was arrested a couple of hours ago."
"He may not be in the system yet. I'll call down and see if he was brought in. Who were the officers?"
Christine handed the clerk the names and badge numbers. He looked them up on the computer and furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, but… these two aren't in our system."
"What do you mean?" Christine asked.
"I mean, there's nothing close to that in our databanks. All our officer IDs are eight numbers long, these are ten." He looked back at Christine, "I'm sorry, ma'am. Whoever took Mr. Garner were not certified officers of the law."
Elsewhere
Erik awoke slowly, his head pounding. His eyes focused on his surroundings.
Bars.
Well, that was to be expected, but not quite like this.
He was in a trailer used for transporting animals, with a large white tarp thrown over it to give a sense of privacy and shade. It did not provide much in the manner of heat, however, being that it was a chilly late January.
He looked down at what he was sitting on – a pile of furs. Matted and smelly, but useful. He tugged one around his shoulders.
Shoulders, he realized, that were bare.
Erik swore under his breath and ran a hand over his face. His exposed face. His mask was gone along with his shirt.
That wasn't all, though.
His duster, which held a stake, his rope, and his cell phone, was nowhere in sight. His boots, which he knew could have been used as a weapon, were also gone. He was left with his jeans and nothing more.
At least he wasn't completely exposed.
What had happened? How had he managed to get into this situation? He remembered being led to the patrol car. Then he had noticed that they were heading away from the police precinct.
A car had then come out of nowhere, smashing into the driver's side and sending Erik's head crashing against the bars between the front seat and the back seat.
Two people emerged from the second car. Somewhat woozy, he had not been able to stop the new players from pulling him out of the patrol car. It was too late by the time he realized they had pricked him with something that was making it increasingly hard to keep his wits about him.
His mind grew hazy… and that was the last thing he had remembered.
Now, as the fog in his head lifted, he studied the barred trailer – or was it more of a cage?
There, at the top on the other side was a vent. If he could get to that…
He stood up and walked forward, only to find shackles on his wrists, and chains attached to loops on the bars. The chains were long enough to allow him to traverse most of the cage, but not enough to reach the vent.
He let out an inhuman roar, his fist making contact with the metal bars. It dented the bars somewhat, but also succeeded in sending shooting pain through his hand and arm.
Erik collapsed to his knees, his thoughts going back to another time he had been chained against his will, face and body exposed by those who would make money from his uglyness.
"Awake finally?" a voice spoke as a small corner of the tarp was moved aside to reveal a male he did not recognize. Possibly the one who had crashed into the patrol car. No doubt Erik's first two escorts were dead.
Erik growled at his captor, who put his hands up defensively. "Don't get mad at me. I only work here." He then let the tarp fall back into place and walked off.
Populaire – underground dormitories
"Father?"
Loki winced upon hearing the feminine voice calling to him. Nowhere to hide now. He took a deep breath and turned to her, expecting to be exposed to her horrid half-face once again. It was the thing that had sent him out of her life when she was first born. He couldn't bear to know he had been a part of something like that.
Regardless, he was surprised to see a silver mask covering the rotting side of his daughter's face. "Hel? Now where did you get that?"
"In the…" she stopped to think of the word, "what do they call it? Prop room, yes. There are many interesting things in there." She smiled. Or rather, the visible part of her face did, "Do you like it? Erik suggested I wear it if I wished to walk around in public."
"Erik… the Opera Ghost? You've talked to him?" Loki asked, wondering if his daughter knew where his newest client had disappeared to.
Christine had informed him a few hours ago that the officers who had arrested Erik were not real officers after all and had had no right to take him. The poor girl had been searching desperately for her fiancé with help from the Guild.
"I saw him a few days ago." Hel answered, snapping Loki out of his thoughts. The trickster frowned as he realized his daughter was less useful than he thought. "Oh father…" she twirled around gleefully, her tattered black robes fanning out behind her, "He is so beautiful! I wish to have him for my mate."
"Of course you would find him beautiful," Loki muttered under his breath. "However, he is only mortal… mostly. It would be a pointless joining."
"Mostly?"
"Yes. His father was … well… not exactly human. But the opera ghost only has a mortal's life span. Find yourself another to mate with."
She pouted, "But I want him…"
Loki let out an irritated sigh, "Hel, did you come here to argue with me? I said NO. Leave me be. I have more important things to concern myself with."
"Father…" she protested.
"GO. NOW!"
Without another word, Hel disappeared.
DeChagny-Giry Residence
"You're free to stay here until Erik comes back, hun. Your old room is still empty." Meg said as Christine informed her of the latest news. "I know that's not overly helpful, but…" she shrugged.
"No no, it'll be fine. I don't want to be alone right now," Christine answered.
"I'm going to make some calls," Raoul said, "We're going to find him."
"Thanks," Christine gave her friends' hands a quick squeeze. "I keep thinking I should have stopped them… somehow…" she said shakily as she ran her fingers through her hair.
"What could you have done, Chrissy?" Raoul asked. "As far as you knew, it was the cops. And he had it coming – the arrest, I mean. Not… whatever it was that DID happen to him."
Christine's cell phone rang and she quickly picked it up, "Hello…. Nadir! Any word?" Christine listened carefully and nodded, "Gotcha! Ok… thanks!" She waited a moment, "No no, of course I wouldn't check it out. I'll leave that up to you guys…. Ok. Bye…"
Christine leaned forward and looked towards Meg and Raoul, "A fake patrol car was found just outside the city. The two fake officers who arrested Erik were dead. Nadir thinks that whoever took him wanted to cover their tracks."
The three exchanged glances, a silent question hanging in the air.
Christine nodded, "Let's go…"
Guild Headquarters
Gus Leroux, head of the Hunter's Guild, flipped through the thick file on his desk. Gods from all mythologies had come to life – or rather, had been awoken.
But that was the least of his concerns.
There were other Guild matters to attend to. His Executioner had gone missing. Not that he had been doing any Executing since settling into his happy new life with his lovely new fiancée.
Regardless, the man was still useful. And there was always the chance of the Executioner returning – especially if something should ever happen to his precious Christine.
Erik had once been gifted with a lack of conscience. Christine had taken that gift from him – had made him feel things.
It had gotten to the point where Gus had resigned himself to hiring hitmen to deal with the threats that the other hunters could not bring themselves to deal with.
It was becoming increasingly expensive.
Gus didn't like unnecessary expenses.
Elsewhere
Raoul, Meg, and Christine walked around the rusty trailers and broken down cars. It was where Nadir had said the patrol car had been found – in a place that looked like it had once been a circus grounds.
The big top tent was weather beaten and torn, the trailers had been dumped as if it were a private junk park.
"Ok, I'm no circus expert here," Meg began, "But you'd think they'd take all their stuff with them when they went travelling."
"They could have gone out of business," Raoul offered.
"Maybe," Christine replied, "But then wouldn't they sell their stuff instead of just up and abandoning it? I mean, if it was in good shape at the time, they could have gotten something for it."
"IF it was in good shape." Meg stressed. Christine nodded, knowing her friend had a point.
"So, we found the location. Now where's the living corpse?" Raoul asked, then let out a sharp laugh, "Fitting that he'd end up here." Christine turned to glare at Raoul, arms crossed. He quickly paled, "Well… not that fitting… erm…it's… horrible, actually. Really horrible…" he cleared his throat.
"Let's split up," Christine decided. "We'll cover more ground that way."
"Keep in touch, though," Meg replied, holding up her cell. Christine nodded and the three headed their separate ways.
After what seemed like half an hour of searching, Meg found a trailer that did not seem entirely abandoned. She heard sounds coming from inside, and pressed herself closer to a window to hear the voices speaking.
She couldn't make out everything, but several words stood out – Freak. Cage. Boss. Payment.
It didn't take too long to figure out what it all meant.
Meg quickly headed away from the trailer and found a place where she could call Christine in private. The signal was weak and she opted to write a quick text message instead. Once it went through, she let out a relieved breath, then turned and headed back to the trailer, hoping to find out more information.
Unfortunately, she only found the inhabitant of the trailer sitting outside staring at her.
"Caught another, Jenna," he called out, grabbing Meg by the arm and dragging her inside.
A woman sat at the bare wooden table playing with the gun in her hand. Off to the right, sitting on the floor, back against the wall, Meg saw… "Raoul!"
"Meggy? You too?"
"Glad you two know each other. Sit." The man shoved Meg on the floor beside Raoul. "How many more of you are there?" he demanded as his female friend – Jenna, Meg recalled - trained her gun on them.
"Just us." Meg replied, catching Erik's duster hanging on a hook out of the corner of her eye. She knew what Erik kept in there. Perhaps if she could get to it…
"Do you know who I am?" Raoul demanded, interrupting Meg's thoughts. "Do you know how much trouble you're going to be in when my brother finds out what you've done?"
"Ray!" Meg elbowed Raoul in the ribs.
"Is your brother someone important?" Jenna asked, obviously bored with Raoul's boasting.
"Ray… DON'T!" Meg warned.
"Philip DeChagny," Raoul replied. "And when he finds out-"
"So you're a rich boy." The man smirked at his friend, "A VERY rich boy. This plan is going to turn out better than we thought,"
"Was stealing a masked man part of your plan?" Meg asked with a frown.
"Damn, don't tell me you're friends of his," Jenna replied.
"Well…" Raoul shrugged, "Maybe friend is too strong a word." This earned him another jab in the ribs from the girl beside him.
Jenna glanced at her companion, "Great. Like we need the trouble?"
Meg laughed, "C'mon, you kidnapped Erik Garner. That's ASKING for trouble. What did you do, drug him so he wouldn't fight back?"
"Mike and I did what we were told to do," Jenna replied. She then turned to her companion. "Take a look around and make sure there isn't anyone else here. And bring the corpse something to eat. Can't have him actually DYING on us now."
"Yeah yeah," Mike muttered. He disappeared into the back of the trailer for a few minutes and returned with a wrapped up sandwich, quickly heading out to see his prisoner.
Christine picked up the text message on her phone and began to respond. However, before she could send, a voice filled her ears. A beautiful, heavenly voice.
"Sing what you can't say, Forget what you can't play, Hasten to drown into beautiful eyes…"
Christine heard the singing and knew only one person who could have such a voice. She followed it, begging to find who she was looking for. Soon, she came upon a large tarp-covered shape several feet in front of her. The voice grew louder as she moved towards it.
Erik was in there, singing to himself. There was no question about it.
She cried out as a strong burly arm grabbed her and pulled her towards the tarp, the singing stopping immediately.
"Did you come here to see the freak?" Mike asked as he pulled the tarp away only to reveal Erik hunched in a corner of the caged trailer, covered in furs to keep warm, his face fully exposed. "Ugly bastard, isn't he?"
Christine said nothing.
"Want a better look?" he grabbed her cell phone and her purse, then tugged off her down jacket, causing her to shiver in the cold. He pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the cage door and shoved Christine in, handing her the sandwich. "You can share this. Hope you like him. He might wanna snuggle to keep warm." The man then laughed, "He might want to do other things too. I don't think he's ever gotten all that close to a woman." He shut the door and locked it once more before he dropped the tarp back down and walked away.
Chrisitne looked over at Erik, his golden eyes focusing on her with obvious disapproval, "Hi… honey," she began sheepishly.
"Christine…" Erik replied softly.
"I'm so glad you're ok!" She headed towards him but the look on his face stopped her in her tracks.
"Christine… angel…" Erik's voice grew low and angry. "What the hell are you doing here?"
END OF EPISODE 11