A/N: Sorry it has taken me so long to update. Life has been crazy as usual and honestly I forgot. Moving into my dorm tomorrow for my first year of college so I am so excited I can't sleep. Figured, hey, why not give it an update!

Thanks to everyone who continues to support me and I hope you will continue to review!

Chapter 15: Revealing

"AHHHHH!" It took forever for the thick metal bucket in Mollia's deathly grip to make contact with her captive's head. The air seemed to push against her, knowing somehow that her plan would fail, but Mollia ignored it. Her eyes were distant, cold. They were the eyes of an innocent turned killer. Crack! She'd never forget the sound of metal crunching through scalp and hair and finally fragmenting skull. He crumpled like a tower of cards before her eyes. It would have been almost comical if the circumstances were different and she wasn't holding the bucket. His knees slammed into the concrete and his upper body swayed only for a second, but it was long enough for his eyes to snap open and capture hers.

Mollia had witnessed the rage of Erik before. The fire would spray from his eyes burning into her flesh and the sound of his voice was that of the devils when devouring a soul. It was the most terrifying thing until the monster before her opened his own. She felt as if her entire being, body and mind, was frozen over thousands of times. Suddenly she couldn't move, fear she would crack and break like a delicate ice sculpture. It wasn't until his eyes lost focus and his face met the same fate as his knees that she could move. She stepped over his form quickly whispering to herself,

"I have to get out." One, two, thre-. She didn't even get three steps closer to her escape before steel clamped around her ankle in the doorway.

Dazed she wondered how she was only the ground and then she felt the blood pooling from her head and numbing pain as she saw her blood covering the corner of the door jam. Darkness flashed across her mind like a never ending strobe light as her body tried to protect itself from the torturous pain. She screamed slightly as her form was pulled the pain increasing impossibly. Pins and needles spread through her foot as the clamp tightened down.
"No," she said over the grunt at her feet, not having the energy to yell. He shouldn't have been awake. He shouldn't have been knocked out. The Crimson Phantom should have been dead! Mollia had watched the bucket carve through the flesh and bone of his head. She had seen the gaping hole and indent it left, the giant pool of blood, but still there he was crawling up her shaking form. The second he was on her legs Mollia knew It was over. Her eyes began to roll back but his complete weight on her form brought her back.

She looked into his eyes fearfully noticing how hard it was to stay conscious.

"Look at what you have done!" Crimson growled. Blood dripped down from his bashed skull straight into the gash on my forehead and suddenly Mollia screamed. It felt as if his blood was freezing her body, as if it was forcing its way into her own blood stream. Her blood felt frostbitten but her body was on fire. She screamed again not even stopping as he clamped a chilled hand over her mouth.

Once the scream died she noticed his blood. It was Black, as black as the midnight sky. Her heart pounded faster, unknowingly helping his blood through her system as her own dripped down into her eyes. Mollia fell over the edge her mind taking the only known plunge to safety. She knew what she had to do and so she reached up and tore the horrid black blood covered mask from his face. His gut wrenching rage was the last thing her ears were left as ink flooded her mind.

~oOo~

"I'll only as k you once more heathen," his hatred whipped through the air as the leather cracked across his prisoner's back. Skin split, like ripping jeans, and blood back splattered against a crimson mask. The prisoner hung shamefully, not making a sound at the pain, but the permanent grimace carved into his face was enough.

"Has she ever seen your face?" His words were harsh. Like flint against stone they caused a fire of emotions in the prisoner's eyes. The whip came down again and again. Crack! Crack! Crack! The horrid sound echoed and bounced between the stone walls. Finally the prisoner screamed.

"NO!" The mournful screech filled the stale air. Reduced to sobs the man in chains let his body fall limp. "She has never seen the monstrosity that is my face," he said to his captor. The crimson phantom left his prisoner to hang by his arms, his back skinned like cow hide.

~oOo~

In 30 years of dedication to the police, never had the captain seen such a dismal group of men. Never had he witnessed such horror, bloodshed, death. Three were left, himself, the youngest Roberts, and Monahan. Monahan was sitting next to the dying form of Pierre whose body lay upon a table of swords, one that the other three had narrowly missed as the floor collapsed underneath them. The captain felt guilt travel through his bones, Pierre was right, they never should have agreed to this, but still he felt the need to go forth. If a monster was capable of creating such terror filled traps, finding joy in the slow deaths of his enemies then he didn't even want to think about the things the creep would do to a lady.

"Captain…" The quite whisper brought him to the side of Pierre's blood drained form, "you must go on and save the girl… This monster is capable of anything. I do not wish to have a lady endure something such as this…Go...You are a great…" The captain stopped his, his hand resting on Pierre's impaled shoulders.

"Do not honor my name Pierre. You are the one who shall be known as the hero. I am sorry my friend, so sorry." He watched the light fade from his partner's eyes and for the first time in 30 years the captain cried. Monahan left the captain to his sorrows and wrapped his arm around the Roberts' shoulders, a mere sixteen year old boy, too young to have seen any of this. His form was curled up and shaking. The boy mumbled unrecognizable words by Monahan's ear.

"Roberts. You should have never seen any of this, but we cannot go back now. That way is blocked by rubble, blood and spirits. You do not want to leave knowing a lady could fall to the same fate do you?" Monahan turned the boy's head and looked him in the eyes, "Do you?" he said a little more forcefully.

"No..sir. I do not." The boy was scared out of his wits but he didn't need babying now.

"Then pull it together and prepare for the worst battle of your life." Together all three left the mangled body of their comrade and trampled on.

~oOo~

"I know you are awake. Open your eyes." His voice was frost bite, rotting off Mollia's ears. She tried to resist him with everything her tired mind could but the ring tightened beyond belief as the magic began to work and her eyes open

She had never wished for the darkness of Erik's cellars before but as the sun mocked her predicament and burned into her eyes she needed her home. The crimson monster sat before her on the edge of the bed. She looked around noticing the bed from the first time she woke up and then her eyes traveled to his hands. He had a medical needle and thread.

"You should have never tried to get away," he spoke as he threaded the string slowly for her to see, "You never should have taken off my mask. You have pushed me too far," his voice frightened her. He sounded dead. "I was hoping not to use the ring but it seems you have made me. Stay still because this will hurt; especially without any medicine." He sounded slightly regretful as her body froze on the spot. Mollia moved her eyes frantically as the needle drew closer and closer to the open gash on her forehead, and as it began pushing through her flesh only her eyes reflected the horrid torture. The Crimson Phantom stayed silent as he stitched her forehead expertly. He ignored Mollia's painful gaze and focused on his work pushing remorse out of his mind.

Mollia's eyes drifted to the forehead of the Phantom before her, expecting to see stitches as well, but she squeaked. No stitches, no blood, and no gash. Not even as much as a bruise from what was supposed to be a crippling bruise. She tried to talk, tried to question but willingly obeyed when he told her not to move, not wanting to feel the pain of the ring once more.

"You are wondering how my injury is gone," he stopped his stitching and turned grabbing a damp cloth, "Let's just say an old crone helped me make a very good deal." Pouring some more liquid on the rag he said more to himself, "It is only a matter of time before your blood accepts my blood completely." One hand touched her stitches gently and her body moved closer without her bidding. He smiled caringly but stopped once he realized her eyes were filled with disgust.

"I talked with you beau," She jerked at his words trying to speak her own; "I am not ready for you to speak! Now, seeing as you are such a curious little vixen why don't we go and see what is under your beau's mask?" It was after his atrocious words that Mollia broke from the ring's hold verbally, her body still fighting to lunge at the monster.

"You are filth! I will never do that! If you even think about making me hurt him I will break away from your stupid magic and kill you with my bare hands, witches' blood or no! I hate you, and I will hate you forever!" She hoped her words would hurt him, cause him to rethink his horrid decision and cause emotions to wreak havoc on the dead organ in the center of his chest, but he only laughed. He lifted her off of the bed supporting her swaying form against his chest.

"As I've told you, you will learn to love me. But even if you hate me as long as you are mine you can do so forever, and it will be forever." She realized at that moment he was crazier than she thought. Living forever, her body accepting his blood?

He walked her down to the first floor of the large manor. Mollia recognized the marble stairs, the baby grand piano in the foyer. It all felt like a fuzzy dream. It sounded as if the house were telling her who it was but she couldn't hear its frantic voice, and suddenly it was hushed by ice.

"You cannot see where we are going from here. Sleep now." Her body drooped at his words and he lifted her like a bride entering the marriage bed room. As the final curtain fell over her mind Mollia used her last resource.

"Please don't make me do this," sleep filled tears trailed down her red cheeks, "I'll never mention him again…I'll be good." His frown was the last thing Mollia saw his words echoing in her mind.

"An outburst such as earlier deserves nothing short of what is to happen my dove."

Erik was relieved to see that Mollia was almost completely unharmed, only frowning deeply at the stitches on her forehead. His heart squeezed as he made the connection between the man's words and his actions. No.

"Why did you bring her here? What are you planning you vile creature!" The chains widened the filth ridden wounds on his wrists as he lunged against their hold at the monster as it cradled Mollia against its form. The monster ignored Erik as he fought his restraints. He glared at the thing that dared to stroke his Mollia's hair.

"Wake up Mollia." The whisper jolted Mollia from her unconscious state and onto the floor. Erik cried out sharply almost feeling the pain from her thud. The first thing Mollia noticed was the smell; mold and sickness. The air was heavy and cold covering her shivering form.

The mournful cry behind her caused her to turn. The creature in chains was Erik but it did not look like him. His form was shriveled, the weight loss alarming. Blood covered almost every inch of him save his face, his mask. She tried to run to him tears in her eyes but steel encircled her waist halting her from her goal.

"Now you will know the consequences of you little outburst my little dove. Go to him" She didn't hesitate to run to Erik slipping to her knees in front of his form.

"Erik, I am so sorry!" She cried shamelessly as she wrapped her arms tightly around her love ignoring his painful groan, "I will get us out Erik. I promise. I don't know how to kill him. I tried but he healed like nothing I have ever seen. I love you so much." She rambled on until Erik breathed loudly into her neck.

"Mollia, It is I who should get you away from him. As soon as I get out of these chains I promise you will be freed." Mollia lifted his head, her mouth centimeters from kissing him when the Crimson Phantom stopped her, "Stop!" She thought he had noticed her slip the bobby pins into Erik's strung up hands as she held them, waiting to be reprimanded severely.

"You will take off your beau's mask now Mollia."