Author's Note: My dear loyal and faithful reviewers, this is almost the last chapter. I know! I am so sad also but, I want to really end it crazy and like, it'll be crazy. So, thank you to Niikkii95, Why Fireflies Flash and CassieXSesshie4ever for reviewing. You make me so happy, I can't even explain it. Wow, you are all so amazing. Oh! And newcomer jjnnrr for alerting this story, welcome to the love!
So guys, we're nearing the end. Stick with me, I promise I won't let you down or ruin your expectations.
Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah... I don't own Phantom of the Opera... Blah, blah, blah...
Chapter Seven: No Sudden Moves
I stood in front of the jewelry store, a large wicker basket filled with colourful soft Egyptian cottons and silver and white silk. I held the basket close, the snow now falling a little harder. My blue eyes looked into the small store, looking at the sparkling diamonds and dazzling sapphires molded perfectly into the gold and silver metals of rings, bracelets and necklaces'. I watched as the pomp women circulated within the store, looking out the glass and out the other side to look at the black-haired woman stand looking at the jewels only they could afford.
I pressed my cold hand against the glass, watching as a light layer of condensation began forming around my palms and fingers. I breathed out, looking at the visible breath floating away into the soon-to-be night.
I gave a small smirk as I shook my head, turning away from the small store. I walked down the cobblestone streets with my hands brought up to my face, protecting my face from the unforgiving winds. I pulled my scarf closer around my neck, pulling it over my mouth and breathing deeply into the thick wool. I held the wicker basket close to me, looking down into it and watching as the snow gathered on the top of the materials. I sighed, ignoring it for the moment.
It was late winter, finally. The snow was coming to an end and Spring would be coming around corner soon. Yet, this strange weather change shook the whole country, sending everyone from their sporting coats and thin trousers to their winter wear in a few hours.
It had been five months; five amazing months. My hand guided itself to the small protruding bump coming right under my stomach. I smiled when I touched it, feeling the hardness under my long black dress and thick long coat. I continued walking as my hand left my stomach, bracing for the large winds ahead of me that were coming up from behind the Opera Populaire. I took in a deep breath, ready for the abrasive winds. Even though early morning, night still felt as if it were still here.
As I turned, I was completely wrong. The winds were still, calm. It felt eerie; even the streets were completely empty, no footprints anywhere in the snow, even if it had been freshly fallen. I furrowed my brows and continued across the empty streets towards the alleyway behind the large abandoned opera house and walked down the secret set of stairs and opened the door, letting a few specks of snow fall onto the warm stone flooring.
"I'm back," I said, hoping he would hear me. I closed the door behind me, moving the lock until a large click sounded. I placed my basket on the floor next to the door, slipping out of the thick coat. I hung it up on the back of the door, the bump showing much more now that the large coat was off.
I walked towards the organ, his back to me as he huddled over the keys, absolutely still. I raised a brow, carefully walking to him. He was in a red and white shirt, which didn't make any sense. He never owned one of these shirts, I would have seen it. His slick black hair was messy, a lighter colour showing a few streaks of dark brown.
"Erik?" I called out, moving closer towards him. My hand reached out for his shoulder, his back still towards me. As I looked down, a small pool of dark red liquid sat underneath him and his wooden bench. My hand grabbed onto his shoulder, his body cold. I gripped tighter, turning him to face me.
I screamed as the heavy body fell backwards, landing in a sickening way that left the neck broken once it landed. I held my mouth as the tears streamed from my eyes. I shut them close, begging myself never to open them again. Yet, I opened the lids over the bright blue eyes and looked at the body half-fallen backwards. His lower body still on the bench as his feet caught the underside of the organ, holding him from falling back completely. The head was situated in such a disgusting way, showing the bone of the spine begging to protrude out of the lightly tanned skin.
His arms spread about, a white piece of paper attached to his chest.
I dropped to my knees, the tears spilling like a waterfall. A full-faced white mask covered his face, nothing visible. I shook my head, Erik had one, I knew yet, he would never wear it. I reached for the piece of paper, pulling it off of the blood-stained shirt. With careful eyes, I read it.
'I shall be waiting for you at the performance tonight. I will be watching. -Klaudios'
I screamed, crunching the paper up into a tight ball. I grabbed the white mask roughly from his face, pulling it off with the strength of three men. I stopped screaming, my heart slowing back to a fast pace instead of the heart attack about to take place.
I moved closer to the face, mine just a few inches above. The eyes still open showed the chocolate balls that weren't his. His lips were thin and his nose was crooked. I sat back on my heels, looking at the imposter, dead on the floor.
I cupped my face in my hands, sobbing. The performance. How could I do it without Erik? How could I do the play knowing he had him? I've only met him once, how could he have known where we were? How could he have known who Erik was? Where was Erik?
"ERIK!" I screamed, my hand moving to my heart as I clutched onto the skin as hard as I could, trying with all my might to rip my heart out. I stood up, running towards the bed. I stopped instantly, looking at the surprise just laying there, begging to be picked up.
My shaking hands took it carefully, turning it over and over, looking at the plaster with the most of care. His mask, this was his mask. "Oh Erik," I whispered, feeling the cold plaster in my hands. I shook my head as I put it back on the bed, placing it on the lush red pillow.
"I have to quit the play. I can't..." I began to burst into short spurts of tears as I imagined Erik with him. I turned around, my hands over my mouth as I ran to grab my coat, leaving the dead and broken body strewn over the piano bench and stone flooring. I ran out of the lair, running as fast and safely as I could towards the Palais Garnier.
…
I threw open the doors and ran over the pink and cream marble flooring. The grand candles weren't lit yet, the gas burning lamps that lung low though, gave a soft yet deadly light to the entrance. The long hall seemed to go on forever as I ran, my ballet slippers making a slight clapping noise each and every time I took a step. It sounded like a fast metronome, or the sound of my beating heart.
I ran up the steps, my black hair wild from the snow and wind from the outside. As I turned into the dressing room doors, I ran towards Henry's office.
My hands gripped onto the side of his door frame as I leaned against it, trying to catch my breath as I tried to regain my posture. The tall round man looked up from his paperwork and at me.
"Mon Dieu," he whispered as he stood, taking in my ragged appearance. "Nathalie, what happened?" He came up to me, his hands taking my shoulders and I shook with another violent sob.
"I need to leave the opera, Henry. I just can't... My lover, he..." I fell to my knees, my hands out in front of me, tearing at the ornate Persian rug sitting on the wood-paneled flooring.
"No, no, no," he said over and over again, kneeling down to my level to hold me, strengthen me with no knowledge of what was happening.
"It's all over, Henry. I can't do this." I looked up at him, my face soaked in salty tears as I searched his strained face.
"I cannot let that happen, Nathalie. The show must go on, you know that." His large hands gripped my shoulders, trying to comfort me. "Even though he is gone, Nathalie, he wouldn't want to live on forever knowing you held back for him."
My eyes widened at what he said. How could he say that? Erik has helped me get to this place, this office, this opera house to sing in front of a sold out performance.
"How dare you." I seethed, watching as my nails had scratched off the horizontal threads, separating the vertical threads next, creating holes where my fingers are.
"Love must die, Nathalie! This is your life now!" Henry pulled me off the ground, his dark brown eyes looking solidly into my blue eyes. He sighed when I said nothing back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "A letter came for you an hour ago." He pressed the letter into my hands as he turned me around and walked me out of the office.
With a cough and a clearing of the throat, Henry looked down into my eyes. "You're still the same little girl I knew for so long, sweetheart. Go get ready for one," he leaned down, his brown eyes now eye level with me. "Last," his hands grabbed my face and pulled me down a little, his thin lips planting themselves on my forehead. "Time." He whispered after letting me go.
"He'll come back, I promise. A break up is nothing if there is no commitment." He said as he walked back into his office, closing and locking the heavy wooden door.
I looked down at the letter in my hands. He didn't know. Henry doesn't know I'm with child yet. He doesn't know about Erik. He thinks someone broke up with me. He knows nothing.
My hand traveled down and rubbed my stomach, my heart racing as I turned around and began walking towards the dressing rooms.
The envelope tightly secured in my cold hands.
…
"Nathalie," he whispered, his deep and husky voice flowing over my body. His large hand held onto my body, keeping it pulled against his. His lips traced down my neck, leaving butterfly kisses that sent sirens through my body. I turned my head to watch him as he caressed my stomach, the small bump having formed just a few weeks ago.
I kept thinking of him, I kept remembering the first time, the first kiss, the first laugh, the first love! As they tightened the corset around my body, I had no clue. I didn't have to be told to hold in my breath, I never let it out. I didn't have to be told to sit down or to stand up, I had memorized every movement perfectly.
I looked at the mirror constantly, watching as the woman I knew disappeared, changing into a woman I had no clue about. She was tanner, her lips a blood red and her blue eyes covered in gold-leaf and black liquid. The woman in the mirror's hair changed; it went from the nappy nest of chickens to long and luscious curls that fell down my back and over my shoulders. A few wisps of curls hung in my forehead, creating a perfect frame.
A man began shouting something, I could care less.
A young girl asked me something; I kept my eyes on the mirror.
"Erik," I whispered finally, a stage hand heard, walking over towards me and giving a slight bow.
"Prima Donna? You called?" His high-pitched voice only fell on deaf ears as I only continued to stare at the woman. She looked sad, confused. Her life was over, she knew it. Nothing would ever be good enough to her if He wasn't there.
"Do you love me?" He asked, his face above mine, his mask off and the sweat dripping down his straight and beautiful long nose. My fingers traced every inch of his face: the scared and the perfect. His scars were perfect, they knew pain and hurt. His hand slid under my back, pressing my body up towards his. "Y-Yes..." I whispered, feeling his heat on my womanhood. The smile on his face was worth living for.
"Nathalie! It is time!" Henry said, his hands clutching onto my shoulders.
I shook out of my hypnosis and looked up at Henry through the mirror. "Okay," I stood, the long silk white wedding dress falling to floor in one sweeping motion, the sound of fabric settling as I walked away, the white heels I wore sounded as if they were booming through the wooden rafters.
"Nathalie, wait-" Henry shouted, his voice caught in his voice as he ran in front of me, stopping me from moving and further. "Read the letter, please."
I looked down at his hands, the crumpled letter smoothed out as best as it could was held in front of my face, begging me to open it.
I took it, turning it over. As I slid my finger under the flap, the thick paper took my finger as it's first victim. "Ouch!" I hissed, pulling the finger into my mouth as I sucked the blood.
I pulled the note out, letting the envelope fall to the floor.
'He is here with me. He'll be watching and so shall I. Don't make me wait, Nightingale.' -Klaudios
I crumpled the paper and screamed, throwing it across the room. My chest was heaving up and down, the corset tight against my body, making me grab hold of Henry so I wouldn't fall or pass out from this Hell I was being put through.
"Nathalie?" He asked, his voice full of concern as I dropped to my knees again.
…
"Why won't you talk, man?" Edio shouted, his fists slamming against the white wall paper of the small bedroom turned make-shift prison.
Erik held his head low, his eyes shifting between the skinny man and the burly one who leaned in the chair against the wall, his feet perched on top of a small marble-top table.
Markus held the apple in his hand, the pocket knife in the other. He cut another piece off and popped it into his mouth, chewing the semi-sweet and juicy fruit. "Calm down, Edio. If he doesn't want to talk then, she'll have to pay the consequences." He said in between his chews, eying the young man as he paced back and forth through the room. Markus watched as the man sat still in the chair he was tied to, his mask having been tossed off during the kidnapping back in the man's home.
"Fílos*, tell me, do you think she'll show up?" Markus asked the man, his deadly brown eyes watching the man's every movement.
Erik turned his head away, knowing the Greek term he used. 'Friend', how dare he even use such terms to list him as such. He took him from his home as he was changing from his morning bath.
"He's still not talking, Markus." Edio hissed, his hands clenching and unclenching as he paced the 'prison' some more.
"Patience, Edio."
"NO! Don't tell me what to do? Where is he? He's supposed to be here by now to make him talk!" Edio shouted, his fingers running through his brown shaggy hair and gripping onto the oily strands.
As soon as he did that, the door slammed open, revealing the instigator. Even Erik looked up finally to see who he was dealing with. A low growl reverberated through his chest as he watched him walk in.
"Your highness!" Edio shouted, lowering to one knee, showing the utmost respect for the young gentleman that just walked in.
"Welcome," Markus said as he popped another slice of apple into his mouth.
Edio eyed Markus, his brown eyes burning with anger. "Why don't you bow before your Prince?" He hissed.
"Because, he and I have an agreement. I also have bad knees," Markus gave a smirk as the youngest man in the room stood and walked towards the back corner, sitting in a small wooden chair, meant for a child probably.
Klaudios gave a slight smile at Markus as he watched the burly man give a respectful nod. "Glad to see you're enjoying Paris, my good man. We don't get apples like that down in the homeland." Klaudios smiled as he grabbed a simple chair from the wall, pulling it in front of Erik, turning it around so that the back would face the man he would be talking to.
As he straddled the chair, Erik lifted his head, revealing the scar-infused half face, his thinning brown hair as slicked as he tried to get it.
"Good God, man. Cover that up, I might vomit on it." Klaudios feigned backing away, his tongue out as he stared at the scars. "Actually, if I vomit on it, it might look better." A rapturous laugh came from behind the Prince, Markus laughing as he swallowed the chewed apple.
"If there was a God, I seriously believe you'd look better than that. How's it you get that, scar face?"
Erik grunted, his head turning away from the two men in front of him.
"You know, she is in imminent danger, right? One wrong move and I'll have her killed." Klaudios said, his amber eyes slanted as he watched the emotions surge through the man in front of him.
"If you even lay one finger!" Erik began to shout, his deep tenor voice sounding through the small room.
"What would you do, hmmm? Send me another letter? No, my dear dead man, you do not get off that easily. Remember, one wrong move from you, she dies."
"You wouldn't kill her." Erik snapped back, his head turned up, his green eyes watching as Klaudios perked up, his body tensing.
"You dare me, scar face?"
"No, I know you. You wouldn't hurt touch as single hair on her head. You'd kill anyone to be with her, even me but, you will never hurt her." Erik seethed back, his teeth grinding against each other.
Klaudios took in a deep breath, holding it as he stood quickly from the chair and, with a hard grip, threw it into the the wall, destroying the wooden chair into multiple pieces. The Prince was losing his temper and Erik smirked as he knew he hit a nerve.
"You fucking piece of shit!" Klaudios shouted, his thick accent now booming through the room. A slew of Greek curses escaped his lips as he began to pace back and forth in front of Erik, his hands cracking each finger individually.
In an instant, Klaudios was in Erik's face, his hot breath waving over the tied man's face. "You want to know why I want her? Hmmm? I bet you do. I bet you want to hear how she loved me before she ever thought of you." Klaudios took a few more breaths in, calming himself as he walked behind Erik, his lips near his ear.
"She was only four and I, well, being the Prince of all of Greece, took her as my friend, having no brothers or sisters. Her mother, that calumniation of diseases and sin of a woman, took bed with the Duke, my uncle and birthed a girl named Nathalie Lydie Alexandros." Klaudios walked away, motioning for Edio to stand and to give him his chair.
After retrieving the chair that was now warm, Klaudios placed it in the same position as the other unfortunate piece of wood nailed together.
"Her name was Alexandros for a reason and she and I had an agreement as children, we'd marry each other one day and rule over all the Grecian lands as King and Queen. Even though her and her brothers and sisters only stayed for those four years, during which she was born, I never forgot her. I have an amazing memory." Klaudios tapped his temple, his smile growing.
"She left, leaving me all alone with no queen to help me take over the kingdom next. I watched her as she was taken away. I chased after that blasted train for god sakes. She cried for me out of the window, he beautiful black hair beating her soft skin as she reached out, watching as I slowed down as finally let her go. I was only nine. She was only four. I was in love.
"I tried to reach her but, every letter I sent came back. It had said that no one lived at the address anymore. My heart was broken. I grew up a wretched little boy, mad at everything in life. She had been the only peace I had ever known and her mother took her away from me, throwing me back in the shackles of every day palace life! I had no where to run anymore, no where to play without her.
"She chose to leave me, I knew it back then and I knew it today. I knew she wouldn't have left me accidentally. She had promised me under the covers of satin sheets she would never leave, that she liked me." Klaudios felt a slight blush to his features.
"Where was I? Oh yes, you see, I grew up a damaged and spoiled only child to a king and queen that never paid any attention to me. I use to go and party with that man you see behind you." Klaudios held his thumb backwards, pointing to Markus as the burly man nodded, tossing the apple core onto the floor.
"We ate together, slept together, bedded women together, sometimes we even bedded the same woman together. He taught me everything I know today and that is to take what you want, not to ask politely and see if it comes with a large bow on top. No, you take what you need and watch as the world suffers without it." Klaudios smirked as he looked at Erik, who by now, had no reason to ignore. He wanted to hear this story.
"Tell me how you found her mother." Erik asked, stunning the Prince.
"Well, the beast talks!" Klaudios shouted, looking back at Markus as the man pulled another apple out of his coat pocket. "Since you want to know so badly, I guess I should explain how it came to be that I came here.
"It was easy finding that woman. Being as sleazy as she was, it was easy finding information about her. She quickly welcomed me back with open arms and open legs, if I do recall."
"You recall correctly, my good man." Markus interrupted, giving a slight smile as he remembered the aged woman.
"Yes, she was very... hospitable, if that word could describe her. Apparently, I had gotten there at the most fortunate time. Her daughter had gone missing and she had called the police, about to travel to the small flat to see if she had fallen ill and died. If she would have died, well, we wouldn't be here and you would have never known me.
"Yet, when we entered the flat and she was no where in sight, the police began a extensive search only to have their target walk in several minutes later. That was how we met. That is how I know her." Klaudios stood, throwing his leg around the chair and walking behind Erik, his hands gripped tightly onto the black dress coat on Erik's shoulders.
"I have killed and would kill to get her back in my hands again. She is mine, monster, never yours, no many the times you've loved her. I have killed for her and sometimes, that may come at a price." Klaudios laughed lightly in Erik's ear, watching the man twitch under his touch.
"Who have you killed to get her? Certainly no one since you're pathetic waste of existence has been here." Erik boiled, trying to pull his head away from the disturbed prince.
"You remember these names: William, Jacques, Francine, James, Miriam and of course, my favorite would be brother-in-law, Andrew."
Erik's eyes snapped open. He struggled with the ropes suffocating his wrists, cutting into his skin. "You bastard! You killed her family?"
"You gotta do what you gotta do sometimes, am I right?" Klaudios strolled in front of Erik, his hands and shoulders shrugging as he smiled. "You know what was funny? Andrew remembered me. Unfortunately, the others did not. Sad, really. But, you can't have everything unless you're willing to pay the price."
"You're a sick man. If you even acted a fraction of what your blood-given title says, you might survive my anger. I assure you, once these chains are broken, I will kill you, slowly. Just like you killed her family." Erik was shaking, a sweat formed on his brow from his blood boiling under his tanned skin.
"I'm sick? No! Never! He is. He's the one that gave her those precious kisses along her back." Klaudios laughed as Erik began shouting in French, his translation lost and the two Green men laughing as they watched the scar-faced man shriek in anger.
Edio watched and his brow lowered. He killed her family just to have her? Edio shook his head. "Your highness, the play starts shortly. You'll be late for your performance."
Erik stopped moving, having listened to every word the younger henchman said. "Performance?"
"You didn't know? I'm the brother. My scene and only scene is the most unforgiving, right? You know how to opera goes: the woman waits for her love to return to marry him, he doesn't show up because he's dead, having being killed by the brother, unknown it was him. The funeral, my dear man, the end scene. That is when I appear, having to tell her I killed her lover and that I will always love her." Klaudios walked towards the door and turned the handle, looking over his shoulder at Erik.
"I surely hope you can make it. It would be tragic if the main character's death happened before you could ever see it." He laughed out the door as Markus followed him.
"Stay here and watch the monster. If he tries anything," Markus pulled the silver revolver from the back of his pants, tossing it towards the skinny man as he followed his employer and old friend. With a deathly glare to the both of them, Markus closed the door, locking it from the outside.
Edio eyed the gun in his hands. He looked to the man tied against the chair, blood trickling down his fingers and down onto the floor.
"You are some weird guy, huh?" Edio asked, walking towards the chair the prince had just been sitting on, his original chair the prince had taken from him. It was his again. He gave a small smile.
"I am no one. Leave me alone." Erik sighed, looking towards the pieces of wood from the broken chair.
"I can get you out of here." Edio spit out, his face gone pale as Erik's scarred one looked at him.
"Why make lies everyone can see through?" Erik hissed, his anger growing by the second. He needed to get out of here and to Nathalie. He knew how the opera ended and he shook his head for putting her through this.
"I quit. I don't want to work with him anymore. He killed her brothers and sisters. I remember. I had just joined. I didn't know it was for her though."
Erik eyed the young man sitting in front of him. "What made her different than any other girl your 'master' killed for?"
Edio shrugged his shoulder and looked away. "He never killed anyone like that before. I had never seen him so focused on someone for as long as this. This is an obsession and knowing him, anyone having touched his toys, he would kill them on the spot. She's just a toy to him; I can't sit back and watch an innocent woman die at his hands so that no one else can play with her."
"He's going to kill her?" Erik shouted, his throat drying up as he pictured Nathalie dying.
"That's what Markus was saying. Whatever he says, usually it happens."
"You have to let me go, boy. I need to save her; you can help save her life."
Edio eyed the man, his eyes looking over the scars. "How'd you get those?"
Erik was flabbergasted. "W-What?"
Edio pointed to his own face, tracing over his thin cheeks and down into his ear.
"I was born like this. Now, are you going to help me or not?"
Edio looked away again, his arms resting on the back of the chair, his chin snuggled in between his forearms.
"I'll give you fifty thousand francs."
Edio stood up and walked behind Erik, his small pocket knife cutting the bloodied rope from his wrists.
"You had me at 'hello'." Edio smiled as Erik kicked at the door, the thin wooden door flying open.
…
"Take me, I'm alive
Never was a girl with wicked mind
But everything looks better
When the sun goes down
I had everything
Opportunities for eternity
And I could belong to the night." I sang out, the groggy voice pairing well with the last song of the opera. The cello's and basses were crunching down on their strings, bringing out the deep notes on their lower strings as the violins kept rhythm, allowing the viola's to take in the melody for once as they all circulated into a deep dark mass, the audience begging for more of the new era of music being driven out.
"Your eyes, your eyes
I can see in your eyes, your eyes.
You make me wanna die
I'll never be good enough
You make me wanna die
And everything you love
Will burn up in the light
And every time I look into your eyes
You make me wanna die." The background soprano singers began harmonizing with me as I sang out the first part of the song, the cello's and basses once again taking back to the crunching of the triplet notes and sixteenth notes that were scribbled on their music sheets, changing quickly in order to keep up with the song.
"Taste me, drink my soul
Show me all the things I shouldn't know
When there's a blue moon on the rise
I had everything
Opportunities for eternity
And I could belong to the night.
Close your eyes, I can see
In your eyes, you eyes
You make me wanna die
I'll never be good enough
You make me wanna die
And everything you love
Will burn up in the light
And every time I look inside your eyes
You make me wanna die." The instruments calmed down, playing the melodic tune that was leading up to the finish.
"And I'd die for you, my love
And I'll lie for you, my love
I'll steal for you my love, my love
And I'll die for you, my love, my love-"
"Is that true?" The cold press of metal against my neck ended the song, the audience in a large whisper at the scene they didn't remember in their playbook. "I asked you a question, Nightingale, is that true? Would you really die for me?"
"Make Me Wanna Die" by The Pretty Reckless, which is a really great band.
*Filos- friend.
Please read and review guys! Maybe if I get enough reviews, I'll upload the final chapter sometime soon! Thanks again!
Laania