Spare the Rod, Spoil the Child...
A/N: This chapter is a bit dark...and bloody...you have been warned my dear readers~I cant exactly say 'enjoy'...but nevertheless, here it is!
Monica shifted and woke slowly when she felt her phone start to vibrate against her. She growled irritated and buried her face into the warm and inviting pillow she had. The sounds of the lake soothed her and produced a lullaby to her ears, she struggled to ignore the annoying vibrations and sleep once more.
The world could wait; all she cared about at the moment was sleep, something that she had been depriving herself of lately.
"I believe that was your strange communication device," an angelic voice reminded her, her pillow rumbling as he spoke. She ignored the angel that called to her; the Phantom could wait as well. She hadn't slept this well in ages. She drowned out his voice and snuggled closer to her pillow still making no move to answer.
Her pillow shifted somewhat making her groan and bury her face even deeper.
"Stop moving you stupid pillow," she mumbled before scrunching up her nose upon it colliding with a cold button. Her eyes opened briefly, clouded with lack of sleep, and focused in on and intricate black vest, followed by a tan chest exposed by a V-neck white collar with ruffles.
Her eyes opened a bit more upon realizing that pillows did not have such uncomfortable buttons, nor did they feel so warm, or breathe.
"Imma kill my phone," she mumbled to herself dropping her head against his chest once more and sighing in content as it stopped vibrating.
The Phantom on the other hand could feel his face burning up upon having her so close and not cowering away in repulsion. He hadn't felt like this towards another woman ever since Christine's absence. It seemed like it had been in another lifetime.
He couldn't quite place the feelings she evoked within him as of late every time she smiled at him. Every time she made any sort of contact with him, every time she sat up late with him to observe him play or help him get through a difficult aria. It was something that he couldn't quite place, and it struck something within him, fear was suddenly awakened deep within him.
He knew this would not last; it was all too good to be true. He was a monster, he would always be one, surely he didn't deserve this. She would run if she ever saw beneath the mask, just like everyone else, just like Christine. He couldn't afford another incident like that. His heart couldn't bear it any longer. It had taken his heart too long to get over the soprano who had shattered his very being by abandoning him.
He frowned looking down at her sleeping form; she had run in a while ago crying over his wellbeing. The wellbeing of a beast who didn't deserve to be cared for. He didn't deserve her. She wasn't his….she didn't belong to him, she never would. It pained him to think like this, but she probably had another already. Another Vitcome De Changey to steal her away from him. He grimaced at the thought of it.
His thoughts screeched to a halt once more as he felt her phone start to vibrate again. She groaned, the vibrations of her lips against his bare skin sent a chill up his spine causing him to shift awkwardly in his spot as she too moved against him.
"Imma throw you into the Phantom's lake," she growled referring to her phone in a drowsy voice searching for the annoying device that seemed to be hell bent on waking her. Her hands wandered over his chest briefly before dropping to his waist as if searching for something.
It then hit him: she was looking for her phone. Problem was…she had the wrong body.
He nearly shot out of his seat when her hands traveled lower to check the pockets in his pants getting more and more irritated by the second. She was starting to wake slightly still refusing to open her eyes and fully wake.
She was in a state of comatose as she continued her search before halting abruptly when her pillow uttered a low rumble. Almost purr like.
Her hands found a cold chain as she tugged at it and realized that she was holding a pocket watch. Her eyes slowly opened after that realization. She didn't have such fine pants to begin with or a pocket watch. This wasn't her body.
Her eyes shot open upon her sudden realization. She pulled away suddenly awake and alert, her chocolate eyes becoming confused as she stared up at the Phantom of the Opera. Her face took on a crimson shade, her cheeks flushing wildly.
"Were you not planning on answering that?" he half teased before she nodded and pulled away shyly making him frown at the loss of contact and warmth. He observed her stumble away from him and search for her phone desperately. After a few moments she gave up her search and huffed crossing her arms and pouting upon realizing she was getting nowhere.
"It has been in your back pocket the whole time," the Phantom pointed out not rising from his seat at the organ. Her expression brightened considerably as she reached back and pulled it out before the rich shade of red returned to her cheeks.
"How observant of you," she teased halfheartedly thinking her blush couldn't possibly get any darker. She could have sworn it was her mind playing tricks on her but a very light shade of pink settled on the Phantom's exposed cheek, barely visible. Clearly he had gotten the meaning of her suggestive remark.
She was about to say something else before her phone went off again, whoever it was it was certainly important. She growled and picked up the call putting it on speaker.
"H-hello?" a voice asked sniffling as Monica's playful mood extinguished immediately being replaced by concern.
"Beatrice…what the hell? It's been a while since I've heard from you," Monica replied as the Phantom leaned back on his chair observing her pace through the lair making sure she wouldn't run over things by pointing them out before she tripped.
"It…Its your brother….he's dead," the woman replied as the Phantom's blue orbs shot up to look at his muse who suddenly froze in her spot and halted her breathing, "Monica…did you hear me?" the woman asked, her voice cracking on the other line.
"I-I heard…how?" Monica replied her own voice strained upon hearing the sudden news. She slowly found herself collapsing on the cold ground of the lair near the edge of the lake. The Phantom never tearing his eyes away from her form.
"Rival gang…the Jackals I think," Beatrice replied as Monica chocked back a sob and shook slightly. Her whole world was coming down on her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
"The bastards…they've taken everything from me…EVERYTHING!" Monica cried at the phone. Silence followed on the other line before it was replaced by the voice of a child.
"Fraulein, Beatrice said I was going to live with you now! She said mami and vati are in heaven now…what does that mean?" a girls voice asked as Monica tensed visibly before replying.
"Kiri…I'll tell you when you get over here liebe," Monica replied trying to level her voice out despite all of the cracking it was doing. The little girl seemed satisfied with that as she handed the phone back to the woman.
"You said they killed my brother, you never said anything about Luna," Monica demanded at the other woman paused before answering.
"She was caught in the crossfire as well…" she replied in a monotone voice as Monica gritted her teeth.
"Crossfire?" she hissed violently tears of rage running down her cheeks, had the woman been present she would have been choked by her.
"They were shot to death," Beatrice replied before a man in the background reminded her of a flight she was supposed to catch soon, "Look, we'll be there in about 4 hours…you're the only thing Kiri has left, your brother always wanted you to take care of her if he was no longer present," Beatrice told her hurriedly, "I wish we would have talked under different circumstances…auf wiedersehen," she added before the line went dead. Monica sat there unmoving before the Phantom walked up to her and crouched next to her.
He lifted her chin with one of his gloved hand forcing her to look at him. Tears streaming down her pained face.
"You know it pains me to see you cry," he whispered to her wiping away her tears with his thumb. She looked up at him unsure of herself before his voice brought her back to reality, "now is not the time to be crying mon ange, they will need you ma chérie," he told her soothing her nerves offering a hand to help her up. She took it after a moment as he led her upstairs slowly not really wishing her to leave, he knew better. She was needed more up there than with him. He could afford to have her away from him...but only for a short period of time.
Monica didn't want to leave either, but Kiri needed her. Dear god she was caring for her brother's only child now. What had he been thinking? He was always reckless…but she thought that would change with the notion of having a child to look after now. He couldn't afford to do anything idiotic, and yet…he had gotten himself killed by their rival gang, just like her parents.
They finally reached the upper levels, the Phantom lingering on the doorway of the trapdoor unable to go further without being noticed by the renovators who were present still. Monica already walking ahead but stopping noticing he wasn't following. She smacked herself knowing he wouldn't or rather couldn't follow after her to the door.
She walked back to him hidden in the shadows, "I will be back," she whispered to him standing on her tiptoes to hug him despite him tensing up not used to contact with her, "I promise I will be back," she whispered to him crying before pulling away and walking away hurriedly.
He watched her leave, he didn't move until she left his eye sight. The days would be longer without her there, lonelier and certainly less entertaining. He wasn't looking forward to not having her by his side. He looked down to his black gloves; he could still feel her hand on his, fire clashing with ice every time he had contact with her. He closed his eyes briefly and sighed clenching his hand momentarily before turning away from the stage and walking away slowly to the life of solitude that awaited him below.
He sighed once more and headed down to the lair missing her company already…
Monica cursed herself once more for leaving the Phantom on such a short notice... She would be back as soon as she possibly could, that much she was sure of. She also cursed at the fact that she lived so far away from the city, from civilization for the matter as she stepped on the gas causing the red Trans Am to roar and speed through the streets.
She didn't take long in arriving due to the break neck speed she had been driving at as she pulled up to her driveway, noticing a single motorcycle parked already. She turned her car off and stepped out, not really alarmed at seeing a motorcycle at her home, she was used to having members of her gang drop by unexpectedly to spend the night at her house. It was no surprise to her; she glanced at it briefly as she passed it, walking slowly enjoying the bitter cold air that rushed at her. The snow being disturbed beneath her feet.
She opened the door and stepped through the threshold astounded by the tension in the air as she entered her own house. She passed her coat rack hanging hers absentmindedly as she passed by and halted and acknowledged her green tree python as she unlatched its cage and pulled it out carefully.
The snake coiling around her arm tensely, black eyes pleading trying to warn her of the inevitable.
"What's wrong? Did Logan forget to feed you guys?" Monica asked bringing the snake to the level of her eyes to get a better look at it. The snake flicked its tongue furiously aware of the fowl aura that stained the air, unlike Monica who frowned and turned to look at the rest of her animals. The snakes were all tense and poised to strike despite the glass impeding them from doing so.
Her grieving eyes scanned each of them; she was in despair already at seeing them so tense and miserable. It was as if something within the house was bothering them. She placed the python in her grasp back into its cage and headed towards her stables to check on her horses.
The moment she entered they all reared and pounded on the ground with their hooves snorting, their nostrils flaring as they bobbed their heads in an aggravated manner.
"I'm going to skin Logan," Monica commented storming outside and back into her house tossing her jacket aside and heading upstairs to her room while calling Logan in the process. It rang several times before he finally answered, as always on speaker.
"Monica! Thank god, I was just about to call you…listen Jack's had a couple of drinks," he paused before continuing, "He stormed out of here a while ago after Lucy called him to inform him she saw you near the Opera House, I hope you're not home, that would be the first place he'd look," he warned her before he hear a thud.
She had dropped her phone upon realizing who was waiting for her in her room. Her eyes widening in surprise and fear. It clattered on the wooden floors, the screen shattering as her skin paled matching the snow outside.
"Monica? Monica!" Logan shouted on the phone as she refused to take her eyes off of the intruder sitting comfortably on the bed.
"Ah, mon amour, you decided to finally come home," Jack teased slurring some of the words, his green eyes narrowing dangerously calculating her every move, " Where have you been?" he asked, all of the amusement that had been there before now gone form the tone he used with her.
"Shit…Is that Jack? Fuck hold on, I'll try to be there as soon as I can…Judas! Gabriel! Voodoo! Get your asses on your bikes, were getting Jack," he ordered before he hung up, her screen going black. Jack eyed it briefly before flicking his eyes back up to lock with hers.
"I was in the city," she replied as he stood from the bed and stretched from the bed like a cat, his bones popping into place as she shuddered trying to desperately compose herself.
"Did I give you permission to go mon ange?" he replied causing something to snap within her.
"I need no permission, from you or anyone else!" she snarled back sneering at him, her chocolate eyes flaring dangerously at him. She was no one's pet, and she could do as she pleased without anyone controlling her. Jack caught on to her change in mood and composed himself briefly and threw his own glare at her.
"You went back to him?" He snarled warningly as Monica tensed but recovered instantly, she knew what was coming. She wouldn't show any fear, she wouldn't allow herself to sink down to his level.
"It wouldn't matter what I told you, you'd never listen anyway," she shot back eyeing him carefully as he stepped towards her and began to circle her dangerously.
He was the wolf, eyeing its prey, and she was the poor defenseless rabbit, cornered without a way out knowing the fate it couldn't escape from. She snapped her head away from his attempt to caress her cheek and scrunched up her nose at the foul smell of alcohol that emanated from him. He sneered at her for avoiding his touch.
"You haven't changed, despite the years," he whispered to her half sober, "all these years, and you still refuse to acknowledge the fear that wants to shine through those beautiful eyes of yours, to part your lips and scream for help, to run away from danger," he murmured toying with her hair while standing behind her.
"Your still stubborn and cold hearted…just like Felix, beautiful and strong just like Mercedes," he continued as she tensed upon hearing the names of her parents. She bit her bottom lip and held back unshed tears; he was pulling her strings, knowing how to break her down piece by piece.
"Of course that would explain why they got themselves killed, just like your brother," Jack added snapping her out of her thoughts. Her hands shook weakly from the memoires of their brutal deaths. How dare he use that against her?
"Daddy isn't here to save you, and neither is that monster that has an influence over you," he whispered to her. That was all it took. That was her breaking point.
"You have no right to speak of them like that!" she snarled spinning around despite the death grip he held on her hair. It happened so quickly that his mind barely had time to register what was happening as she brought her hand up and swiped it animalistically across his face.
He let go grunting in pain as she stumbled away from him in shock. He ran a hand across his cheek smearing blood on his face as he pulled back to look at his blood covered hand before turning his death glare onto her. She gasped; he had three scratches running through his left cheek to the bridge of his nose.
"Is that any way to treat the man who loves you?" he hissed wiping more blood away as it descended onto the corner of his lip leaving a fowl taste in his mouth. He grimaced before approaching her temper fuming.
"With devotion's visage and pious action we do sugar on the devil himself," he quoted as she took a brief moment to understand him. He used that brief moment to catch her off guard before backhanding her with such force that her whole world seemed to spin around her. She stumbled and clung to the doorway for support the pain from her stinging cheek blurring her vision with tears.
His quote suddenly became clear to her, despite his reputation she had fallen for his good looks and charming personality, blinding herself from the real man underneath all of that. The true Jack. The one she was dealing with right now.
He stalked over to her not giving her any time to recover from the blow he had given her as he took her hair into his grasp once more and hurled her down the hall as she fell over a lamp pulling on it to regain some sort of balance. She failed however when her legs gave out beneath her dragging her down with the lamp, the light bulb shattering into pieces.
Jack storming over to her and kicking the lamp off of her small frame all the while kicking her in the process as she cried out in pain right before he swung his leg at her again.
Her body skid down the hallway upon receiving the brutal blow to her stomach, she struggled to breathe, her body shaking miserably trying to get up but collapsing miserably. He walked over and kicked her further down the hall as she whimpered in pain barely starting to recover her breath. She noticed she was dangerously close to the top of the staircase; she tried to claw desperately at the wooden floors trying to get away leaving her nail marks on the wood.
Jack approached her as she cried in horror; he stopped next to her at the top of the stairs, "Baby, why are you crying? Aren't you having a blast?" he joked crouching next to her and examining her pained expression. She was beautiful when she cried, even more when she screamed. It gave him great pleasure to be the one causing it.
"J-Jack…p-please," she sobbed clenching on to his leg desperately, her body aching and bruising already. He looked down at her and considered ending her punishment then and there.
No.
She needed to learn, to never disobey him again. He loved her dearly, but there was a lesson to be learned here. He knew she could take his punishment, she was strong, she would be fine.
He rose sighing, and shook her feeble hold on him while turning to stand behind her shaking form. She reminded him of a beaten puppy before its abusive owner, and he loved it. He loved the feeling of control that he held over her.
"Spare the rod…spoil the child," he whispered to her placing a boot on her small waist and applying pressure down on it as she moaned in pain and squirmed trying to get away from him. The sight of her like that sent chills up and down his spine, she couldn't get more beautiful.
He paused slightly, of course she could. He would just have to break her a little bit more. Upon settling on that thought he increased the pressure on her waist until a scream tore through the air, it was music to his ears. She squirmed even more clawing at his leg trying to get away desperately before he relieved the pressure and stepped back admiring the dark bruises adorning her pale skin.
"We've just begun," he whispered to her before kicking her one last time over the same area he had been stepping down on as her body skid over the top step of the stairs and crashed down in a glorious symphony of thuds and cracks.
Jack followed behind descending the stairs slowly admiring the blood splatters on the steps and smiling at the art he had created. He halted as he towered over her, a sadistic smile on tugging on his lips as he stared down at her unmoving form. She lay face down unable to move, she couldn't even scream anymore.
The pain was indescribable, her whole body howled at her in pain and she was unable to even pick herself up. Every breath she took sent a jolt of pain through her body. Her chest felt constricted and she could no longer feel her arms or legs. She briefly registered Jack pulling her up to her feet by gripping her neck.
Her broken nose oozed out blood and made it difficult to breathe as it stained the floors. She could barely make out the living room where he had dragged her into. He tossed her carelessly as she stumbled hopelessly and knocked over a cage before collapsing miserably herself. Glass shattered across the floor catching Jack's attention while he walked over to her. He paused and picked up a shard and continued on his way, crouching once more to examine his broken angel.
Her whole body was a sea of bruises, cuts and surely broken bones. He lifted her shirt to reveal an array of bruises already forming; he traced the glass over them before really applying pressure and drawing blood. He dragged the glass down her right side leaving a nasty gash from her lower ribs to her lower stomach. She no longer registered any pain, but she could feel blood running down her side.
She whined in such a feeble manner that it actually caused him to stop and look at her for the first time. God, she looked dead. Had he really done that to her? HE looked down at the bloody shard of glass in his hand and back up at her with a horrified expression. What had he done? He loved her…he fucking loved her…and he had nearly killed her. What had taken over him? The alcohol? The sleepless nights? Jealousy?
"M-Monica? B-Baby answer me!" he yelled horrified taking her cold trembling hand into his own. She didn't even stir; her chest rose slowly and lowered at an even slower rate. He could tell she was having a hard time breathing. Oh god…what had he done to her? Her body shook weakly, her bottom lip quivered as she choked and coughed out blood sending Jack into a panic attack.
He risked a glance at her face, her nose was broken and her lip cut. Dark bruises were forming there as well. Her once beautiful face was now hidden beneath blood smears and cuts.
A loud hissing noise brought Jack back down to earth as he tensed visibly upon seeing what had caused it. Her King Cobra had reared and extended its good hissing loudly in his direction. He could never understand why she kept such dangerous animals; it was his luck that he had caused this one in particular to escape its cage.
It hissed once more lunging to strike at his hand. He pulled away in fear and let go of Monica before realizing the snake's intentions all along. It wanted him away from Monica, and who could blame it? He had done so much damage already to her frail body. He backed his theory up when he tried to approach her once more only to back away when the snake curled up next to her and hissed loudly every time he got near.
Guilt took over him upon seeing the blood smeared everywhere in her house, and her beautiful body…just seeing it broken on the floor like that caused him great pain. He turned and ran for the door, the green tree python near the doorway lunging at him despite the glass that shielded him. Her Rottweilers barked madly from the basement where he had locked them in when he first arrived.
He stumbled out of the house and ran for his motorcycle, he revved it up and drove as fast as he could to clear his mind, unaware of the four motorcycles he passed while rushing away.
Logan only increased the speed of his bike when he saw Jack rush by as if he'd seen a ghost…although Logan had a feeling he would see one soon if he had laid a finger on Monica.
He stumbled off of his own bike as he rushed to her open door followed by the other three. Upon entering the King Cobra slid away allowing him to get near his fallen angel, broken in a bloody heap on the floor.
"Fuckin' hell…hang in there sweetheart, were gonna get you fixed," Judas murmured moving forward as Logan stood frozen trying to fathom Jack's reason for harming his angel, his friend, his sister. Judas took her into his arms and carefully made his way out of the house passing by the other three who looked after him and stared open mouthed at the state their leader was in.
"I'm going to skin him alive if he dares to show his pitiful self again," Gabriel snarled following after Judas.
"Just wait till Lucifer finds out about this…" Voodoo murmured after him feeling sorry for the fate that Jack had sealed for himself.
Logan stared at the cobra which lay curled in a corner a white spot covering half its face, the rest of its body a charcoal black reminding Logan of something, or rather someone.
"Forget about Lucifer and the rest of us…wait till the Opera Ghost hears of this…" Logan whispered shuddering when thinking of the poor bastard at the hands of the infamous Ghost. Surely the Phantom of the Opera would want the blood of the man foolish enough to harm his muse, or perhaps she was more to him….
Logan could only pray for Jack if that was the case.
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