Ok, thanks a million to my reviewers. I'llTryMyBestToBeGlindaTheGoodWitch, it's ok I kinda blame Raoul too. ;) not in this story but in general.
The song from last time was indeed a HIM song, he might pop up more. I really like HIM. The voice and the lyrics, sooo many of the songs would fit perfectly. Too bad you can't hear them.
I'll be honest I lost my outline of the story, but I don't want to give up. Sooo, we'll see what happens, there are no guarantees of anything. Erik and Raoul might even "grieve" together. Actually no, I don't foresee that………………but you never know! I'm trying to make point!
Onto the Chapter!
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Chapter 6
Loss
They had given him a sedative to calm him. The Phantom, once held all of Paris under his spell, was lying on a bed in abject grief. As the moon rose, the phantoms that haunted his thoughts broke loose and began their nightly torture of his broken mind. They ran with new information to persecute him with. He rose from the feathery softness, deeming himself not worthy of rest, when on the other side of the house…………….
NO, he wouldn't, couldn't think about it. He could hear it, the screams, she was calling fro him still. Worse than reality the screaming was in his head, he could not drown out the horrid sound. It drove him mad.
He paced about the room, wringing his hands, feeling like a tiger trapped in a cage. He grabbed his cloak off the chair, and walked determined out of the room. He paused only momentarily, he had to get out, he had to leave this place. Obligations Be Damned.
He stayed in the shadows, flew down the corridor, down the stairs, looked out, and was in the kitchen. It was empty, and dark, but the dark did not bother him, he was always in the dark. He walked through able to see the moonlight spilling in through edge of the outlined door. HE walked outside, assaulted suddenly by the cool night air. He looked quickly and saw the stables over to the right.
The ran with a speed he hadn't used for a long time. He walked in, there was a sleeping boy in the hay piles. He scanned the horse, picked the best looking. He silently apologized to Raoul for stealing, while he took the horse out of its box. It was new for him to apologize he contemplated, when crossed with the dilemma, saddle or no saddle. Bugger he grabbed the saddle of the hook, decided he could ride faster with it. Moving even more quickly now, blanket, saddle, cinch, stirrups. He noticed this saddle was odd, and then he remembered the new fad of getting these little horses from the states that were said to be able to run for miles unbothered. The saddle was western. Oh well. He got the bit in the mouth after a small struggle, but the horse let out a loud whinny and woke the groom. Bollocks. He slipped the reins into place just in time as the now frightened horse took off. As he grabbed the pummel and jumped in to the saddle, he found a new appreciation for the western saddle.
The hooves pounded into the soft earth with a reassuring beat. The stable boy was running into the house to alert the staff that a masked man had taken off with the masters best horse. A melody began to match the rhythm; it was soft to echo the feel of the night.
It seemed she was speaking to him, him to her. They were calling out to each other, he never quite lost the connection he had with her, to be able to touch her mind.
This
world is a cruel place
and we're here only to lose
so before
life tears us apart let
death bless me with you
The sad part was that he really did wish her dead, he would much rather see her at peace than here, abandoned by all and doomed to walk in darkness.
He was out of sight quickly enough. He would return the horse to Raoul, lovely as it was. He no longer had the energy to fight that war, and from the encounters so far, neither did the Vicount.
The trees encircled him with a comforting denseness. He slowed the finally tired horse to a slow trot. He remembered a song he had written mocking the tragic boy and his pretty face. The melody no longer feeling like a satire but a deep sigh.
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
And no one knows
What it's like to be hated
To be fated to telling only lies
But my dreams they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
No one knows what its like
To feel these feelings
Like I do, and I blame you!
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
No one knows what its like
To be mistreated, to be defeated
Behind blue eyes
No one knows how to say
That they're sorry and don't worry
I'm not telling lies
No one knows what its like
To be the bad man, to be the sad man
Behind blue eyes.
He would not think about the couple's sad plight any longer. He convinced himself that he could easily fall back into the Phantom persona and simply surpass his true self, so that it did not exist at all.
"Why have you destroyed the man that I once knew? Why have you banished him, imprisoned him within your soul?"
"Banished him?" He whispered. "No my dear, I have not banished him. I have killed him. That man is dead. He died long ago, suffocated by blood and hate. I suggest that you forget him, for he no longer exists. I slit his throat with my resolve."
All these things swam about in Erik's head as the horse made his way through the tress back toward the bright city, visible in the distance, its lights glowing with warm promise, empty promise.
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Ok, the first bit was Join Me in Death by HIM, and I'm sure you recognized the song as Behind Blue Eyes, either The Who version or Limp Biskit, whichever you prefer. Sorry I really like songs, they express things better than I can, and if you can hear it, it adds even more.
Ohh, and a BIG steal, the italicized words belong to Wandering Child and her AMAZING story Demons, if you haven't read it, DO SO. Its incredible, I should have asked, but the line was sooo beautiful and perfect……………I LUV U Wandering Child, WHEREVER U R!
I love reviews! ( I write more often then…………………………….