Disclaimer: In another dimension, in another world, in another life I might have owned the original characters but, bittersweetly so, I'm in this dimension on this world with this life. SO...what's mine is mine and what's not is Leroux.
Hey gang! My computer and I were reunited, and the past two days my muse and I have been on good terms so here we are. A thousand thank you's to everyone who's reviewed! I never expected to get this much response and it certainly is nice. -:hug:-
Anyway, this chapter contains a piece that I've had in my head since nearly the beginning and I was really excited to get to it; you'll find out what it is at the end here.
Please enjoy.
Not for the last time, Christine wished she had a watch or at least that she had picked a spot within earshot of the Baron's ornate floor clock and its pounding chimes. Something told her (or perhaps it was just the screaming, though sometimes still muffled, voice of common sense mixed with survival instincts) that she should stay exactly where she was until she was found by the right people or the sun rose and she could invent several new excuses for staying in a dark room instead of her usual walk out on the grounds. Christine shifted uncomfortably in the closet bumping into a broom and scrambling to push the scratchy bristles from her face. She stretched out as far as she could on the floor, still stifled and not enjoying the moldy stench that lingered lightly in the air. All the same, she kept her ears trained for the sounds of any movement, aware that there was no safe place, only safer places.
Underneath the crack in the door, she could see that the hallway was beginning to lighten with the coming dawn. Christine realized that her friends would be much more suspicious if she went missing (and was found in a closet of all places) than if she remained secluded in her room. There was a strange tingling in the back of her mind and she awkwardly rose to her feet as the door to the closet was flung open and she blinked in the sudden light.
"Christine?"
Erik's concerned voice sent a wave of relief coursing through Christine's marrow; she responded with a warm smile.
"Come, let's get you out of here." Christine took Erik's outstretched hand, the feel of the worn leather against her skin a welcome familiarity. She took notice of his state of dishabille, from the worried look that glinted in the corner of his eyes when he scanned the hallway to the cuts that still bled visible through torn bits of his clothes.
"Erik, what happened?"
Erik sighed, relatively sure that blocking out Christine in the midst of the battle (having assumed that she would be safe with the vampires and concentrating his energy on fighting for her) had been incidentally mutual. He pressed a finger to his lips and led Christine back to her room before answering her question: "Fighting the sprites and the bodies they control."
Christine stared at him and blinked. Erik went on to explain the entirety of the situation which was met with a mixture of blank stares and slow nods.
"Well, given the circumstance I'm in, I suppose it's not far of a leap," Christine acknowledged when he was through. Erik nodded, relieved that she hadn't disregarded his explanation and that he didn't have to repeat the confusing details of the matter.
"So now what?"
"Well, you have to learn to be a vampire."
"But what about the sprites?"
"To hell with the sprites and to hell with Donald. Your wellbeing is far more important to me than his good opinion."
Christine couldn't help but smile, despite the circumstances, especially when Erik's lips came crashing down on hers as if to prove his declaration. She made certain he understood her understanding and Erik felt her body rise against him. They broke apart abruptly when there was a knock at the door and Christine silently cursed whoever was on the other side while Erik slid gracefully into the mirror, hidden from Christine's angle. She took a moment to compose herself before responding with a quiet, "who is it?"
The maid entered and set the breakfast tray on the small table where the sunlight was just stretching to the rich wood of the polished top. Christine murmured her gratitude and the maid excused herself. With a small smile, she made her way to stand in front of the mirror just as Erik was extricating himself.
"Will I get to learn that?" she asked quietly with a twinge of excitement, motioning to the mirror.
Erik nodded slowly. "Perhaps. Philippe has said that not all vampires have the ability but I would be happy to teach you everything you'll need to know. Perhaps we'll discover your gift."
"Gift?"
Erik went on to explain, "Every vampire has a particular gift, some special ability. Philippe can sense other vampires, Aleta can discern the truth faced with any practiced liar, Sebastian had his bird to talk to, Annabelle and Irving have the ability to attract and bewitch the opposite sex…"
"I believe I have met this Irving," Christine added when Erik hit a lull. "So what's your gift?"
"Sancha says it's a further manifestation of my music, my voice."
"That's fitting. Who is this Sancha?"
"A gypsy called in to read the vampires."
"Did she say anything else?" Christine asked, unable to hold back her curiosity.
"She told me that I have a second gift though she was interrupted before she could tell me what." He met her gaze pointedly, "She also said that it was essential that you be turned and other bits of mystic rambling. I have my doubts about her abilities."
Christine nodded slowly, still trying to absorb all the new information falling into her lap all of which was quickly layering to be nearly overwhelming. "What's my gift?"
"I have no idea, my dear. My guess is that we'll learn soon after your first meal."
"My first…meal," Christine parroted hesitantly.
The corner of Erik's mouth quirked, remembering his initial reaction and finding Christine's timidity endearing. "Dearest I tell you, it will get better with time."
"I…" Christine bit her lower lip, "I still just need to sort this all out, somehow."
"I'm not sure how much time we'll have for that. Your new abilities will be further cemented with your first real meal, and with all these vampires, sprites, and werewolves running about I would feel much better if you could defend yourself should anything happen to me."
"Erik, don't you dare leave me," she whispered, running her fingers down his cheek.
He instinctively caught her hand, caressing it fondly as it still cupped his own cheek. "I wouldn't dream of such a thing." Leaning forward, he kissed her again. She moaned lightly and he ran his hands through her hair and down her back, lost in a feral heat.
"Some day, my dear Christine," Erik murmured, nearly breathless, "We'll lock the doors and make damn-well sure we're not disturbed."
Christine collapsed against his chest with a contented sigh.
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door again; their ill-luck would have been laughable if the situation had been different but as it was, Erik dove into the mirror while Christine threw the covers over her clothes and feigned illness.
∞†∞
Ezekiel hummed to himself as he watched the sun rise a safe distance from its beams. A few of the others had quickly grown tired of his discussions with an old human skull that still formed part of the wall, jutting out enough to be visible and apparently enough to be conversed with.
Donald was naturally furious, pacing the dark tunnels with a stony expression. They had taken many casualties, even from those who had started directly for the catacombs (a nasty ambush that the Elders were ashamed not to have anticipated). A few shrinking candles lit the otherwise gloomy crypt, casting eerie shadows against the wall. The other Elders sat together, discussing their options. Another couple of stragglers had arrived the night before but still not enough to ensure victory or even strengthen many hopes. There were two real options: flee along the catacombs or fight in one last stand. Either way, several vampires were in no condition to do either. Ezekiel did a cartwheel over a sleeping vampire and plopped next down to Philippe who had just tucked the fob back into his jacket after checking his pocket watch in the dim light.
He sighed. "Think the psycho made it?" Philippe asked Ezekiel half-heartedly.
"Yep."
"Sure?"
"Yep," Ezekiel repeated, his grin broadening.
"Not a pile of ashes in the middle of a field soon to be fed upon by a random goat?"
Ezekiel's eyes shifted into focus momentarily. "Erik made it to shelter with minutes to spare. He's just biding his time now."
"Biding his time for what? Is he breaking up with Christine?" Philippe smirked but Ezekiel just gave him an odd look. "Alright," he relented. "He probably just has to help her get her first meal, right?"
Ezekiel's face relaxed and he nodded before his eyes once more began to glaze over. "Singing songs, singing songs."
Philippe raised an eyebrow but shrugged to himself as Ezekiel bounded away.
∞†∞
The day passed both impossibly slow and surprisingly quickly. Erik and Christine talked about all that was important and unimportant and other times they were simply content to wrap their arms around each other and stay in the embrace. Thanks to a conversation with Madame Giry, Christine was left mostly undisturbed with a "touch of the flu." One tense moment, Raoul's voice was audible saccharine sweet in his attempts to gain admittance but he was decisively refused by the still reluctant Madame Giry. Christine had related her story with the Raoul that was decidedly not Raoul, all the more poignant in the midst of stories of body-possessing sprites, and the rest was easy to guess.
Thankfully, the sun finally set and Erik took off as a shadow along the ground, pulling Christine behind him after acknowledging that she likely couldn't shift into a bat as of yet and Erik didn't feel he could explain that matter as quickly as he'd have liked (doubting that the sprites would have given up their watch of the manor entirely). The couple made their trek in a new direction, praying to avoid suspicion. Erik's sharp ears picked up on sounds of scuffle in the distance, silently acknowledging that the battle between the vampires and those the sprites possessed had undoubtedly resumed. He pushed it from his mind with an idle thought of goodwill toward Philippe wherever the man was.
After a while, Erik and Christine found a small village and two men passed out in the alley of a tiny inn and a small shop of some sort. Grateful for their luck, Erik showed Christine what to do and to her credit she did her best not to squirm or otherwise appear squeamish. Erik licked his lips, swallowing the last remnants and relaxing in his satiation with a small sigh of contentment. He urged Christine forward.
"It's your turn."
"Erik…I…" she tried, though she soon found she could not finish a coherent sentence.
"Christine, you have to."
"I can't, Erik."
"It will get easier, Christine," he assured her quietly, pulling her close and laying a soft kiss on her temple.
"It's still a man's life, Erik."
"It's either him or you, Christine. And as I cannot live without you, I will confess that I'm a wholly selfish being and urge you to just get it over with."
Her bottom lip quivered and Erik could resist but still it with another gentle kiss.
"This is who you are now. I know you can do this. I refuse to let you waste way to nothing."
Still trembling, she took a few tentative steps away from Erik and leaned down over the man, already despising herself for what was about to happen. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit down, the man jerking slightly but he was soon forever still. She released him and met Erik's eyes with a dazed look.
"So strange," she murmured to herself. "I'm a killer now," she added ruefully, averting her gaze.
"Only to survive, Christine," Erik whispered in her ear. "Come, we should head back to the manor. We should leave there tonight, go back to Paris. Get away from all this mess with the Circle and its enemies."
"I owe a few people an explanation," Christine said with little hint of emotion.
"The less truth, the better. And I think you can spare Raoul, with the state he's in."
Christine nodded and clasped Erik's hand with a small smile. "Things are going to work out, aren't they?"
He pulled her hand to his face and kissed it. "I assure you."
Melting into the shadows again, they took off back toward the direction of the Baron's manor. Erik could sense that Christine was still troubled with what was happening around her but was distracted from his thoughts when they both smacked firmly into an invisible barrier. The manor was just over the hill but Erik couldn't force his way past the wall.
He quickly resumed his normal form and squinted in confusion.
"Erik, what's wrong?"
He didn't answer her, instead trying to place his hand on the wall but finding nothing but air. Still puzzled he urged Christine to walk forward as they continued their journey. "Something is blocking us from moving in as shadows, they want to be able to see us."
"Who?" Christine whispered, her face paling slightly.
"I have no doubt that we'll find out soon enough."
"That you will," a voice to their left spoke up. The voice belonged to man Erik recognized with growing dread, one of the Belmont clan; it made sense now, the barrier was obviously one of their methods now exploited by the sprites.
"What do you want?" Erik growled.
"I'm just to hold you. Though," his eyes roved over Christine who instinctively clung to Erik, "the instructions regarding the female were…hazy, if you will."
Erik took a step in front of Christine and the man chuckled.
"I thought you'd be one to make things interesting."
"Christine, go inside," Erik commanded. "I'll find you soon."
She glanced over her shoulder as she ran, praying that she'd see her angel soon and unharmed.
Erik watched the man, secretly grateful that he had let Christine go, and sized him up. Certainly he didn't look like a formidable opponent, but Erik knew better than to trust in appearances. The Belmonts had a few tricks up their sleeves but Erik wasn't about to give him much opportunity if at all possible.
After a few moments, the man let out another deep chuckle and straightened. "So many ways this body knows to destroy you, but which one before I go after that little trollop?"
Erik's face hardened but he braced himself, trying to pull out his dagger as discreetly as possible and ready to fling it sharply in the man's trachea if he made another comment toward his Christine.
∞†∞
Christine shut the door behind her and made her way down the hallway, frantically trying to piece together in her mind where she could remain hidden. Moments later, she stood in front of the door to the cellar. She wretched the door open and virtually flew down the stairs and lit a lamp, breathing heavily and already anxious. The door was soon flung open, casting a bit of light into the darkness before it was bolted shut and a figure marched resolutely down the stairs.
"Erik?" she cried out with hope.
An icy voice responded, "No, it's your other jilted lover."
The shadows across Raoul's face only added to the sudden burst of fear in Christine's breast. She summoned her courage and demanded, "Leave me alone."
She started to walk away and he gripped her arm roughly. "Who said you could leave?"
Christine wrenched her arm away and moved out of reach. "I said leave me alone."
"I'm afraid I can't do that," he replied with a mocking regret. "You see, I can get at Erik best by going after you."
"Why are you after Erik? What's he done to you?"
"Nothing really, he just wouldn't cooperate. Can't have him teaching anyone else how to dissuade us." Raoul shrugged. "Plus, we need something to do. Now come here. I've already told you that I don't tolerate stubbornness."
"Stay away from me," Christine demanded fiercely.
"Ah, but you didn't say please."
"Don't touch her," Erik roared, having entered from the outside cellar door where the stars were still visible since he didn't close it in his haste to step between Christine and Raoul.
Raoul, who was decidedly not Raoul, laughed. "I was afraid I'd have to start without you."
Without any warning, Erik flung the smirking figure against the wall.
He laughed again. "Even if you kill this body, I won't stop. None of the other sprites will either. You've been marked for destruction. I was just hoping to have some fun with it." This time, he lunged for Erik who produced a dagger (already stained with blood) and thrust it firmly into Raoul's arm. He hissed with pain but didn't lose his maniacal grin. "Go ahead and fight your lost cause."
They struggled again, unnatural strength against unnatural strength. Christine searched frantically for something she could use, anything that would help Erik. An old ornate mirror stood in the corner and other bits of random junk that had long been in storage cluttered together but no sign of a pistol or rope or anything other that objects that weren't practical to throw. Instead, she lunged herself, striking Raoul on his back, his head, and directly on the gash on his arm. He hissed again and tried to buck her off while still struggling with Erik and attempting to land a blow of his own. Raoul shoved Erik away briefly and struck Christine across the face. Enraged, Erik again dove for the man's throat only to be tossed off moments later.
The mirth had dissolved from Raoul's face as he looked down at Erik and Christine who had shook off her shock and kneeled beside him.
"I had hoped that I wouldn't have to resort to this. I must be out of practice…or perhaps it's just this body," the chilling voice from Raoul's throat murmured as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a pistol with a shining barrel that caught the light from the lamp. "Don't look so smug. These bullets can hurt you; a gift from the Belmonts." He cocked the gun.
Suddenly, he was caught about the middle as Philippe charged into him, pushing them both into the mirror that Erik and Philippe had casually discussed once before. Erik and Christine could only watch helplessly as both men slid cleanly into the mirror…which teetered precariously before shattering on impact with the floor.
∞†∞
Authoress Rambling: actually, I think I'm going to wisely abstain from rambling and just hide. (I knowsomeone isn't going to be happy with this.) Toodles.
And as always: Love it or hate it, please let me know!