Disclaimer for all chapters:
I own nothing. Not Phantom, not Count, and certainly not the name Erik Destler. -Cries-
A thunderous boom sounded throughout the small room, and the front door suddenly burst open, shattering the peaceful moment. At least seven soldiers crowded through the doorway, pistols at the ready, and looked threateningly at all seated. Erik quickly stood, while his father and Christine sat in stunned silence.
"What is the meaning of this?" He asked, setting his napkin on the table.
A tall soldier stepped forth from the group, obviously the captain. "Which of you is Erik Destler?" He demanded, looking from Erik to Jean and back again.
"I am," replied Erik, looking confused.
"You are hereby arrested, Monsieur." Said the captain, motioning to the two men on either side of him. They surged towards Erik and grabbed him, forcing his arms behind his back and handcuffing him.
"Wait! Wait!" Yelled Christine. The men paused, and she ran to Erik's side. "What are the charges?" She begged the tall man.
"That information is privileged." Replied the captain coldly. "Take him away!" He ordered his men.
"No!" Christine cried, trying to hold on the Erik as long as she could. One of the soldiers shoved her forcefully away, and she fell to the floor, sobbing openly. "Erik."
--
A short, jostling ride in a prison-cart rubbed at his already raw nerves. Erik stared out the barred windows, sure that there was some mistake and that he would be released soon. He was simply worried about Christine and his father. The cart smelled of old rice and urine, an unpleasant experience to say the least. He could hear the hoofs of the horses pulling the cart pounding the stones of the road, lulling him into a sort of calm. Everything would soon be set aright.
The cart slowed to a halt, and two officers appeared and opened the cart door, ordering him out. Both of them sneered at him as he obediently climbed out, still shackled. He wondered what in the world he had done to deserve their hateful looks. They each grabbed one of his arms at the elbow and dragged him towards a ship that was docked nearby. A ship that Erik recognized.
"No." He said faintly. "No! There has been some mistake!" It was the ship that took prisoners to the Chateau D'if; the cruelest island prison known to man.
--
Erik stood before the prison-master, hands bound with thick rope, slouching with fatigue from the long voyage to the Chateau D'if.
"Monsieur Basth," he began, "I know that you must hear this all the time, but, I truly am innocent."
Basth chuckled darkly. "Have you any idea with what you have been charged?"
"No Monsieur."
The jailman rifled through some parchment that was laid out on his desk. "Treason." He said pulling a paper up and reading it.
"I am innocent!" Erik exclaimed, shocked.
"Not according to this." The other man motioned to the document he had been holding. "But I believe you." He smiled grimly. "I really do. You wouldn't be here if you weren't."
"Will- Will you release me then?" Erik asked hopefully, daring to believe it.
"Of course not." The jailer sneezed. The air was cool and damp, so it was little wonder. "But I do have a welcome present for you."