The Whispered Word, Lenore Chapter 31, a phantom of the opera fanfic

I'm sure you all know the spiel by now, I don't own Phantom, fic takes place in present day, blah blah blah, REVIEW…

Lenore watched him go. "Damn him!" she hissed. "She's far too young!"

"I agree with you on that," Erik practically snarled, his eyes following Hiroshi's retreating figure. Lenore found his eyes emanated such cold hatred that she found herself shivering with fear.

"Um…when are we getting married?" Lenore asked, hoping to take his mind off things.

"The Madeleine is booked solid for six months," Erik said dismissively. "The earliest date we could manage would be in mid December." There was a momentary pause as he finally took his eyes off of the door Hiroshi had exited through and turned to look at her. "Of course, the openings in mid December are a very narrow window of times, due to the holidays at the end of the month. Some time in January is my current expectation."

Lenore looked down at the ring on her finger. January…that's not that far away really. She got to her feet, ready to leave. She could care less if Erik followed or not. She strode out of the restaurant as fast as was politely possible.

As soon as she was outside the restaurant, she ran for the street, hailing the first cab she saw. She flung herself into it and instructed the driver to just drive at the moment, so long as they left the restaurant. She saw Erik pursue her into the street, but he couldn't get into the cab before the driver took off down the street.

The driver inquired if she had any particular destination in mind. "The Eiffel Tower," Lenore answered absently. It was on the other side of Paris, which would provide her ample time to think.

I hate this. Everything I believed throughout my childhood has been a lie, I've been shoved into a marriage with a man who's lied to me for the past month, a man that I hardly know yet seem to want badly. And these memories…How can I remember something that's never happened? That I've never even dreamed? I want to go back to a month ago. When everything was simple. When Father was still my father, and I was planning to write a book on theology while taking a vacation in Italy. It was my perfect dream…

"…every dream must end."

God, his voice even haunted the simplest thoughts! There's got to be something in my life he can't touch…theology. That's it. She spent the rest of the ride thinking over her book. She could run away, and write her book. Publish it under a different name maybe. Make some money for herself. And then what? Spend the rest of your life hiding? What for?

"Mademoiselle, we've arrived," the driver said impatiently. He'd probably told her a few times already.

"Thank you," she murmured, absently sliding out of the cab and heading towards the Eiffel Tower.

The elevator was mostly empty during the ascension. Lenore didn't even notice the breathtaking beauty of the night lights of Paris. She was so busy trying to figure out what to do with what Hiroshi had told her about her past, and being engaged to Erik.

Lenore located a small section of the railing at the top that wasn't occupied by giggling tourist couples making out. Peering out over France, she bit back the urge to just scream her lungs out until she felt better. I want to go home. I want this life to be the way it was supposed to. I hate not being like any other girl. She looked at the couple to her right. That girl would be allowed to marry whoever she wanted, no matter how rich or poor he was. She would live a normal life, in a normal house. Why can't I have that? Why do I have to be married to an eccentric wealthy bastard living in a basement?

…Why doesn't the idea of this marriage bother me half as much as it should?

"You forgot to pay for your cab," Erik's voice whispered in her ear. He moved to stand beside her at the railing.

"Oh," she muttered, just now thinking of it. She'd been so lost in thought, she hadn't even realized. "How did you find me?"

"I took the taxi that was behind yours. Next time you wish to see the sights, save me a few Euros by letting me accompany you instead of taking my own cab," Erik replied.

"Not like you need to worry about money," Lenore retorted.

"I would have liked to ride with you though," he said softly, his eyes looking out over Paris. There was sadness in his voice, as if she had hurt him by running off on her own. As if he truly did want to be with her.

"I wouldn't have liked it," she responded. She didn't want to hurt him, but at the same time, she somehow did want to make him upset. Maybe if he was upset with her, the marriage would be called off.

"Must you be so cruel?" he inquired. "I look for your love, and all I find is bitterness and distrust."

Wait…those are…he's crying. I made him cry. Why do I feel so bad about that? Isn't that what I wanted? You should apologize, Lenore. "I…" she paused and sighed. God, was it so hard to say she was sorry? Maybe she should start with something else. "I didn't expect this, you know. This wasn't the way I planned my life. I was going to write a book, and spend a few years just vacationing around the globe," she managed to say. "Then I was going to get married and become a professor of theology. I never thought of being a diva. And when that happened, I thought of spending a few years here before trying my hand at Hollywood. If I could build a reputation for myself here, with Father…Hiroshi's connections, I figured I could have a career in entertainment. This just wasn't what I was expecting."

"That is no excuse for your cruelty," Erik said, the tears gone now and a hard edge in his voice. "You needn't cause others pain just because you're hurting."

Lenore didn't bother to respond to that. She was sick of the twist her life had taken. She could always throw herself over the railing. That would end it all quickly enough. She wouldn't have to worry about hiding for the rest of her life or going through with this marriage and being miserable.

Erik's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close so that she was in front of him and he shielded her back from the cool night breeze. "Stop running, my little one," he whispered into her hair.

"But if I stop running…everything will catch up with me," she whispered.

"Eventually, you're going to trip and fall. And then it will all catch up with you anyway," Erik pointed out. "Do you really want to face it all at a time when you can't even stand?"

They were silent for a few minutes while Lenore thought about things. "Why did he lie to me?" she finally said. "He said he raised me to make things up to a friend. But why did he tell me all these years that he was my father? Why didn't he tell me the truth before now? I…I hate him." She didn't want to say that she also didn't want to marry Erik, because, for some strange reason, she didn't want to hurt him like that. And it wasn't entirely true…

She leaned back against his chest and sighed. This feels perfect. Like it was meant to be. Why does he make me feel this? He's supposed to make me afraid, because he's insane and terrifyingly strong, and can manipulate me with his voice, and…Why do I want to marry him? Why aren't I angry at him for letting Hiroshi betroth us? She raised her left hand and looked at the ring on her finger.

"Erik, why do you want to marry me?"

"Because I love you," he whispered softly.

"How do you know? You didn't meet me till a month ago. What if it's just some silly little infatuation?"

"There's no way for me to explain it. Just trust me."

She ached to trust him, wanted it with her whole being. And yet, a tiny little part of her mind warned her against it. Trust was nothing more than a trap; love, a cage. Trusting him now would cripple her, and he would slowly bring her to love him, successfully caging her in his heart.

"Erik…" I've got to be insane… "…are you really the Phantom of the Opera?"

Erik wasn't sure how he should answer that. Would the truth frighten her? Or would it help her to trust him? She'll hate you if you lie to her, Erik. He noticed the couples close by had started to listen to their conversation.

Putting his lips right down next to her ear, Erik moved his lips a bit, just enough to make people think he had already replied and go back to their canoodling. It worked. Lenore, Erik whispered softly into her mind. You really should be more careful with your words in public.

"I don't care," she responded, her voice drawing attention once again.

I am, Erik answered her earlier question. It's not impossible, I assure you. But that's a story for a more private place.

Lenore suddenly broke out of his embrace and shoved him away, running to the elevator. What is with her obsession with running away from me tonight? Following her, he attempted to catch the lift, but the doors closed just as he got there. He couldn't be bothered to wait for the elevator to take her down and then come back up for him, so he began hurrying down the stairs.

Snatches of music ran through her mind. "My power over you grows stronger yet." "Only then can you belong to me. Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in…" "Your chains are still mine, you will sing for me!" "…the trap is set and waits for its prey." "In your mind you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me." Those songs, the only view into the Phantom's character she had (or so she thought), were replaced by more of those strange memories.

"Ma chouchoute means 'my pet'." "…you are mine. You belong to me!" "It would be all too easy to own you if I truly wished it, child." "So you think yourself a slave, Lenore? Awfully daring of a slave to confront her master, isn't it? Perhaps it would be best if this little slave took a moment to think about how kind and merciful her master is." "I called you my doll because that is what you are. My fragile, porcelain doll."

If she married Erik, she would be a possession. Perhaps a pet, a canary to sing for him when he wished to hear her beautiful voice that he had perfected. No, I can't. I won't be a man's pet or treasure! I'll live on the streets and starve to death first! When the doors of the elevator opened, she rushed out and headed for the Pont d'Iéna to return to the north side of the Seine. The Bois, I'll head for the Bois. To hell with the fact that it was a den of prostitution at night. Erik would never think to look for a proper lady like her in the Bois.

Halfway across the Pont d'Iéna, Lenore heard someone coming up behind her. Panting for breath and already exhausted, she didn't dare turn around to see whether or not it was Erik. Pushing herself to keep running, her breath coming in ragged shallow gasps, Lenore lurched forward for a few more feet before suddenly losing her balance and pitching to the cold stone surface of the bridge. She knew from the way she'd fallen that the heel had broken off her shoe.

She kicked her heels off as quickly as she could and pushed herself back to her feet, taking off again. She couldn't let him catch her, be it Erik or some random pickpocket/rapist/murderer. If he catches me, I'll be trapped forever. I can't be trapped, I can't. I want to be free to come and go as I please, not to be a prisoner in Erik's home! Lenore cursed herself for not bringing a purse; if she had one, she could turn and bludgeon her pursuer until he was unconscious, then make her escape at a more leisurely pace.

Hiroshi carried the body of Brielle Vasser down to the main lobby, out the door, into a cab to the Bois, and then dumped her in an isolated section where she would be found in the morning, tampering with the minds of any who saw him with her corpse so that they would never remember the sight of it. All the while, he hummed a very old Japanese song that was dedicated to the god of death.

"Get away from me," he heard Lenore's voice yell hoarsely. Turning around, he saw her about twenty feet away, running past him with Erik close on her heels.

He stepped into her path, and she ran into him before she could stop herself. Bouncing back off of him with a violent force, she fell to the ground, gasping for air. "Really, kitten, if you're a woman in the Bois at this time of night, no man would take you seriously if you told him to leave you alone," Hiroshi commented.

"Not you," she groaned, trying to scramble around him and get back on her feet.

Knowing he couldn't put a foot on the fabric and risk ripping the dress (she'd spent far too much of his money for the garment), he placed his boot firmly on her leg, successfully pinning her to the ground, albeit somewhat painfully as well. But it seemed Lenore had other plans in mind, for she jabbed a rather sharp stick into his calf muscle, causing him to release her while cursing severely.

"Maybe I should have told you she was armed," Erik quipped moments later as he ran past Hiroshi after Lenore. Hiroshi caught sight of a few scratches on Erik's face. I never knew kitten was so aggressive. What a perfect sex toy she would've been for me…

Joining in the pursuit, Hiroshi proposed that Erik simply plunge into her mind. If the pain didn't stop her, Erik's control of her body certainly would. Erik refused, saying he didn't wish to cause her that much pain when she would eventually tire out and he could catch her then. "I rather do miss those scarred legs right now," Erik muttered darkly. "The poor condition of her legs would have stopped her long before reaching the Bois."

Hiroshi, on the other hand, wasn't even remotely interested in seeing how long this could last. So he plunged into her mind. She crumpled to the ground in front of them, screaming her pain. Not having chased her for any great length of time and therefore less exhausted then Erik, Hiroshi reached her first, and glared down at the girl he called his daughter.

"You agreed to marry whoever I chose for you," he reminded her sharply. "To run away from him is to show disrespect to me. I'll not stand for it, do you hear me?"

Erik arrived at that moment and delivered a firm punch to Hiroshi's jaw before taking his precious Lenore into his arms and attempting to soothe her with soft words and gentle kisses on her forehead.

"Damn you Erik, can't you be appreciative for what I've done for you just once? I give you immortality and you curse at me for hours. I repair a good portion of your face and you beat me for not making it perfect. I raise and return your beloved little pet to you and you tell me to take her from your sight. I stop her when she tries to run and you hit me! Didn't you ever learn manners?" Hiroshi spat.

"I'm afraid the manners I learned differ greatly from yours," Erik snarled back. "It's entirely improper to attack, rape, and murder defenseless women."

"You can't rape the willing."

"When you alter their thoughts to make them willing, I call that rape."

Hiroshi was trying to come up with some biting retort, but his mind was failing him. "Take her home," he finally said, looking at the girl crying in Erik's arms. "And don't let her get away again. I won't help you with this little mortal anymore." Maybe that was harsh, but Hiroshi was tired of doing everything he could to make Erik happy only to have Erik yell at him and beat him up. What a spectacular friend I have, Hiroshi thought dryly.

Erik laid her gently in his bed, not sure what to do. She was still crying from the pain of having someone rip into her mind as Hiroshi had, but he didn't want to give her morphine. She hadn't been exposed to that drug in this life and he would never forgive himself if he made her a morphine addict.

Erik ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what else he could do to make her comfortable. Take off the jewelry…get her out of that dress. His mind filled with thoughts that were inappropriate at the current moment. Hell, the thoughts were inappropriate unless you were married to the woman, but that certainly hadn't stopped him from having such thoughts before.

He carefully removed the earrings, then unfastened the clasp of the necklace and laid the trinkets on a side table. Gently lifting her up enough to reach the zipper, Erik began to open the back of her dress.

"No," she whimpered through her tears, the first coherent word she'd said since Hiroshi had done this to her.

"Trust me, Lenore," Erik pleaded. "I have no intentions of hurting you. Trust me. Now, may I remove your dress or not?"

She was silent a minute, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You may," she finally whispered, sniffling to keep her nose from dripping.

Erik remembered the first time he caught a cold and his nose ran. What an experience that had been! He had invested a great deal of money in handkerchiefs after that little episode. But he'd also taken great care in keeping himself from ever catching cold again, so he'd used very few of them. I was forty years old before I had to deal with a dripping nose…God, that was ages ago. A good one hundred and forty years or so ago.

The dress was discarded on the floor. Erik stared at the breasts filling the lacy red brassiere, larger than in her previous life. The brassiere didn't look comfortable to him, but he didn't know much about that sort of thing. If I ask to take off her brassiere, she'll find a way to get over her pain long enough to yell and smack at me, telling me how perverted I am when my only intention is to make her more comfortable.

Erik took her in his arms, deciding the best course of action would be to soother her with song. But which one? He was very familiar with the music from Lenore's laptop; he'd kept it down there, only taking it up to have Ember recharge it when necessary so that he could continue to listen to the music Lenore had adored. Yes, that one will do quite nicely tonight…

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance,
For a break that would make it okay.
There's always some reason
To feel not good enough,
And it's hard at the end of the day.
I need some distraction,
Oh beautiful release,
Memories seep from my veins.
Let me be empty,
And weightless, and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight.

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here.
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear.
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie.
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here.

So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn,
There's vultures and thieves at your back.
The storm keeps on twisting,
keeps on building the lies,
That you make up for all that you lack.
It don't make no difference
Escaping one last time.
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness, oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees.

It didn't put her to sleep; her mind hurt too much for her to actually rest. But it relaxed her, and her tears finally stopped.

"What did he do that hurt so much?" Lenore inquired drowsily.

"The mind is very fragile, and if you enter it, you must enter it slowly so as not to harm your target. Hiroshi ripped through the layers of the mind, going for the center so as to stop you," Erik said. "It's somewhat difficult to explain, but the mind has layers that are designed to protect it from those of us who have the ability to read minds. Those layers are easy enough to get through, but it must be done slowly and carefully to avoid pain for whomever it is you wish to read. The time it takes gives the prey enough time to erect their own barrier, if they know what's happening to them. But if you wish to stop someone, or keep them subdued for a few minutes, forcing into their minds quickly is more efficient. Each approach has positives and negatives; which one the mind reader will use depends on the situation and his personality."

"Oh," she mumbled, probably having difficulties processing the information due to the pain her mind was in and her drowsiness.

Lenore's left hand somehow found its way onto the porcelain mask. Tensing, Erik quickly snatched her hand away from his face. She won't remember…she doesn't know yet, I can't let her see until I can be sure she won't be afraid.

"You were not meant to see Erik's face tonight, chérie," Erik whispered when her eyes betrayed her disappointment in having been thwarted at unmasking him.

"But I want to," she whined like a small child.

Erik sighed, shaking his head. Damn women and their curiosity. "Would you like me to tell you a story?" he proposed, hoping to get her mind off of the mask.

For a moment he was certain she was going to tell him she didn't want a story, she wanted to see his face, damnit! But then the determined fire left her eyes. "Okay," she conceded, letting her eyes close.

So Erik told her a story he had told a young woman one hundred and forty years ago, about a white rose and a nightingale that fell in love against the will of Allah. How the nightingale came to the rose every night, begging for her divine love. How the rose trembled at the sound of his voice, but refused to open her petals to him. And then, how the rose managed to overcome her fear, and that the result was the birth of the red rose that Allah had never intended for the world to know.

"Roses are pretty," Lenore commented, on the verge of sleep. "Do you like roses, Erik?"

"Very much," he replied softly, smiling at the delicate one in his arms.

"Would you buy me roses?" she inquired through a yawn.

"As many as you like."

"Fifty. Purple, please," she murmured.

Purple? Why purple?

Lenore opened her eyes, thankful her head wasn't hurting anymore. Erik was not next to her in the bed, so Lenore turned her head, fully expecting him to be sitting next to it, anxiously watching her to make sure she was alright. What she found was a vase of purple roses on the table by the bed.

Oh shit, I thought I was dreaming when I asked that. She didn't bother counting them; he wouldn't get her any less than what she'd asked for, nor would he get her more.She was also pleased to see that these roses were properly purple, not burgundy, lilac, or lavender. She didn't want burgundy, since that color meant unconscious beauty. Though the meaning wasn't literal, Lenore knew she'd feel as if it were. Lilac symbolized the first emotions of love, and that somehow didn't seem appropriate. And while lavender was accepted as representing love at first sight and enchantment, it also indicated a need for discretion, which was certainly not an implication she wanted from Erik.

What if he knows what purple roses of this color signify? Not to mention what the amount signifies. Lord in Heaven, if he knows…

She found a small card lying next to the vase and picked it up.

Lenore,

I hope I purchased the correct color. The florist informed me that this shade of purple means enchantment, opulence, majesty, and glory. The color also means "I will always love you." Which I found quite interesting, seeing as how fifty roses symbolize unconditional love. If you take a moment to look at the pillow next to you, you will find another rose that I hope is also to your liking. When you are ready, please join me in the drawing room.

Erik.

She looked at the pillow next to her (she hadn't bothered to before, knowing Erik wasn't in bed with her), and found a blue rosebud with a black ribbon tied around the stem. Blue…blue indicates fantasies, hoping for a miracle, new opportunities, or possibilities. And the fact that it's not in bloom yet is meant to say "You are young and beautiful."

Lenore shook her head. Why did I have to say that aloud? Why couldn't I have been dreaming? She wasn't sure how she felt now, getting these roses with very specific meanings from Erik. The fact that she had asked for the purple ones made it worse. To outright tell him what she wanted him to feel for her…

Lenore had her hand on the door handle when she realized all she was wearing were her undergarments. I can't go out there like this! She went to the trunk Erik kept his clothes in, as her dress from last night was nowhere to be seen, and Erik's shirt was better than nothing. She was stunned to find a portion of her wardrobe in the trunk, with a little note on top.

Kitten,

I brought your wardrobe down. Well, most of it. The dresses I didn't approve of weren't part of my selection. I also neglected to bring down any slacks or short skirts. I know Erik won't have made you any clothes yet, so until he's found the time to make you some suitable attire, these clothes will have to do.

Father

Father my ass! Crumpling the note up and tossing it on the floor, Lenore dressed in one of her tailored suits, which consisted of a long sleeved black dress shirt, and a crimson vest with a matching knee-length skirt. Then she pulled on the thigh high black stockings and located a pair of black flats. She pinned her hair up in a proper bun and straightened her vest, finally ready to go out.

She looked every inch the perfect lady. Her hair was pulled up off her neck in a neat, perfect bun. Her crimson vest was perfectly straight over a black dress shirt that lacked any creases. The seams of her skirt were lined up at the appropriate place, her stockings were perfectly arranged. She was, in essence, perfect. Erik found it positively sickening.

He remembered when her hair used to be defiant, never in place. When she didn't bother readjusting the bodice of her dress if it wasn't perfect and it had an abundance of creases five minutes after she put it on. When her skirt seams were always slightly off because she didn't care enough to line them up, when she didn't wear stockings at all. His Lenore was all about slight imperfections, and Erik sorely missed that. He was half tempted to 'readjust' Lenore's clothes to match his expectations, tousle her hair and get those stockings off.

Lenore sat down on the sofa, her posture precise and her ankles crossed right over left. She was supposed to slouch, and sit with her legs slightly open, not caring how improper it looked because it was more comfortable than crossing her legs. I know my Lenore is in there somewhere. Why can't I find you, Lenore Parker? I can't bring you back if you hide behind this proper lady.

"Thank you for the roses. They're very nice," she said politely.

"I'm glad you like them," he replied mechanically, having had quite a proper upbringing for the first nine years of his life. Old habits died hard, it seemed, and he could only be a gentleman around a perfect lady like this. You were supposed to complain that I didn't get the exact color you wanted, or that one of them wasn't blooming to your satisfaction, or even that I got you one more than you asked for, and that the extra one was blue, which was clearly not what you wanted.

He had seen the old Lenore last night, both times she ran from him. That need to escape him to make sure she didn't end up a possession or plaything, that inability to trust him. That was his Lenore. This new one trusted Hiroshi as a father, though that was starting to waver. This Lenore knew she was destined to become an object for a man and had resigned herself to that fate.

And she would make the best of her fate, as a proper lady. Fake smiles and mock happiness would become her daily masks. At night, when the masks would finally fall off, no one would be there to see the tears or hear the heart-wrenching sobs. No one would ever know that she was bird dying to be free of her gilded cage.

Don't you understand? It doesn't have to be that way at all. You will lock yourself in that cage and then blame your social standing for having placed you in a cage created by your own ignorance and hatred. Every high class woman does this. But you don't have to. I don't expect you to smile all the time, or be happy when you wish to feel angry or upset. If you cry, I want to wipe away those tears and quiet those cries. In my kingdom, you would be free to do as you pleased. There would be no cage to hold you in.

"Would you like some breakfast?" he inquired properly.

"Yes, that would be quite nice," she replied.

Erik wanted to strangle her for not having some snarky comment about how long he waited to ask her that. When breakfast was ready, he left her eating by herself to go see his Lenore. Erik didn't usually eat much at all, and he didn't care about being a proper host right now.

Closing the door behind him, Erik walked over to her coffin, the glass cover carved in an intricate pattern of row upon row of burning candles her image almost obscured by the ice crystals that consumed the glass. Erik brushed some of the ice off and laid a hand on the cover over top of the folded hands resting over her heart.

"I know you're in her, but I can't seem to find you except in the moments I least expect it," Erik said sadly. "Is she keeping you from me?" He wished she could speak to him, wished there were some way to reach her. "Your heart was so beautiful. Why did it have to betray you like this? Why didn't you just accept Judgment? It hurts to see her looking like you but not actually being you. I was doing so well until she came here, you know. I was dealing with this very well."

The tears slipping from his eyes told the truth. He hadn't even begun to deal with it. Hell, he'd spent almost every moment of the last twenty two years in this frigid freezer with her body because he couldn't bear to let go. Not because he had promised not to, but because he couldn't bring himself to let her go.

But Erik lost track of time, standing beside her and crying for the woman he had lost.

"Erik? God, this room is freez"- Lenore's voice came from the doorway. Turning, Erik saw her eyes, wide with horror at seeing what looked like her own dead body under glass. She toppled to the ground in a dead faint.

"OMG! I'M DEAD!" Lenore screeched.

Erik grabbed her arm and attempted to convince her otherwise while taking her far from Lenore Parker's grave.

"Well, you certainly scarred her for life," Hiroshi said, seemingly unaware of the duct tape binding his ankles and wrists. "I must say, I approve of such scarring of the mortal mind."

"Didn't I drug you a few hours ago?" the authoress inquired.

"Yes, but I recovered quickly."

"Okay, I'll up the dosage," the authoress said brightly, pulling out the syringe. "While I take care of my Jack, why don't you people review?"

"Hopefully it won't take you as many tries as it did last time to find my veins," Hiroshi sighed.

"Oh, well…it was fun to watch you squirm while I wiggled the needle around under your skin," the authoress admitted with a devious grin.

"Oh cupcake, you look so scrumptious when you smile like that. Can't we just have sex?"

"Um…well…I can't remove the duct tape or else you might try to scare me by kissing me again…That was just disturbing…"

"Whoever said you had to remove the duct tape?"

"You're into bondage? That's more than I needed to know, man." The authoress quickly located Hiroshi's vein and loaded him with morphine. "Don't forget to review, please."