Chapter Two
Decent into Hell 1843
Erik sat beside his mother in the back of a coach. Never had he gone anywhere with his mother. Rarely had he even been allowed outside his home. Confusion was the emotion clouding his mind at the moment. That sour faced Georgina had come to unlock his door this morning and told him he needed to be dressed and down at his table in ten minutes. His mother had a surprise for him. Her strange cackling laugh had unnerved him but at six years old many things could unsettle a little boy. Erik rarely got upset by anything anymore. Repetition of punishments had lost their ability to frighten him or hurt him very much.
Erik's life had shown him that nothing he did would ever make a difference where his mother's feelings were concerned. To her he would forever be the little demon who cursed her with his presence. It confused Erik greatly how his birth could be his fault but it must be so as his mother believed him to be at fault. She told him so often enough.
He knew not to be late for breakfast. To be late would earn him a switching with the willow whip. It stung something awful. He still had welts on his legs from the whipping he received for spilling his milk last night at the evening meal. His mother hated waste almost as much as she hated him. He hadn't always known why she felt that way but she had enlightened him on his last birthday just a few days ago.
He had begged for a kiss from her. In his eagerness he had wrapped his arms around her legs forgetting he still had a bit of the chocolate on his face that Rochelle had brought for him as a birthday gift. She had warned him not to let his mother learn of the little treat.
Well his mother had found out when she saw those stains on her dress. Rochelle had been dismissed and he had gotten the willow whip lashed across his legs. When she had satisfied her need to physically punish him she then moved on to mental punishment.
Erik had been forced to look into a mirror for the first time. He had asked many times why they had no mirrors or surfaces with which he could see what he looked like. His reflection in the water did not give a clear picture. He looked different but not frightening. His mother had said he was monstrous but Erik could not believe he could look that badly if she were truly his mother.
Upon his first look at himself he had felt the same horror everyone else must feel. He had known he looked different from everyone else, he had even felt his face with his hands so he could picture what he looked like. Nothing his mind had conceived did justice to the reality of his face. If his mother's goal had been to hurt him deeply she had exceeded far beyond her expectations.
That wound did not matter as much as his mother dismissing Rochelle. Erik felt as if he could not breathe when his mother had told him. He had begged to be able to say good-bye. Not knowing why nor caring for her reason, Erik had been given permission to go out front to see Rochelle off.
He had run out to bid Rochelle good-bye as she had been his only friend and companion since he could remember. She was so very pretty and made him feel as if he were just like other boys. She even let him remove his mask once in a while when his mother would be away for the day. He much preferred the air hitting his face without that scratchy old leather mask.
He had grabbed Rochelle hugging her tightly as tears had streamed down his little face. Rochelle never minded him mussing her skirts with a hug. Erik had told her he was sorry he was such a bad boy. Mother had told him the devil was in him and would always come out if they were not vigilant. He had mispronounced the word so horribly Rochelle had laughed and told him the correct way to say the word then told him he was not bad at all. He had been a normal little boy doing what normal little six year old boys do. Normal boys got dirty on a daily basis.
When he had expressed his worry as to how she would live she had stated that she could find another position anywhere. At only eighteen she was young enough to start over. She could always work in her sister's millinery shop in Paris if country life ceased to support her.
Rochelle had shucked him under his chin then kissed his cheek, tears and all. She had not even minded his runny nose. She had used her apron to wipe his face and messy nose. In that moment he wished with all his heart she was his mother. As she walked away from him the sun reflected off her golden hair. She looked like an angel in that bible book his mother had made him hold for hours after one of his misdeeds.
Erik had watched with desolate eyes as his one ally and friend walked down the lane. His mother had not even offered Rochelle a ride. It seemed to him that the sky darkened with every step further Rochelle took away from him. He had almost found his feet taking him down the lane after her. Years later he would wish he had given in to that impulse.
He must have stayed out in the open too long for his mother had come out to drag him back inside by his ear. When she had jingled her keys as they stood in front of the cellar door he knew she would be putting him in that dark place until she felt he had learned his lesson and repented of his sins.
What sins he had been guilty of his mother had never saw fit to inform him. As the door creaked open he had begged her not to put him down there as he was sure he saw rats the last time.
She had smacked him across his face accusing him of telling outrageous lies as her home did have such vermin. She had gone on to tell him that he was the devil's plaque sent to deliver them all at Satan's door. Being only six Erik did not think he could deliver anyone anywhere, especially since his mother never let him leave the house. Her concession to let him say good-bye to Rochelle had surprised him. If Erik had been older perhaps he would have known to be suspicious of such generosity when none had ever been given before.
He had spent two days in the cellar. His mind had conjured horrible monsters lurking in every corner. He would swear he saw the red glow of eyes looking back at him from the corner.
That had been three days ago. Now the housekeeper hinted at a surprise. He had made it to his table in the corner just in time for his mother entered the dining room just as his backside hit the wooden stool he sat on.
He often wondered why he could not sit at his mother's table to join her in a meal. Just one and he would have been satisfied. His food was always good but he wondered how much better it would taste if he could sit across from his mother at a real table.
That meal had been the last one Erik ate in that house and the last time he sat in the same room as his mother. By late afternoon his life would take a drastic turn into darkness, beginning on a pathway down into hell for many years before the path began to ascend toward the light once more.
He had been so excited when his mother had told him they would be taking a carriage ride together. Erik had thought this was her way of showing him she had been sorry for the way she had been treating him and dismissing Rochelle. Erik forgave his mother every sin she had committed against him. She must love him if she would take a carriage ride with him where anyone might see them together.
The jostling of the coach on a rough and rutted road drew Erik's eyes out the window. He dare not actually put his face to the window so anyone could see him. Mother had not brought along the willow switch but she had two perfectly good hands that delivered quite painful blows at times.
Once when Erik had been only perhaps three he had disobeyed his mother and gone outside to watch the children walk home from the school house just down the lane. No one had seen him but his mother had been so angry with him Erik thought at the time that this would be the time she killed him. Often she threatened to do just that. She claimed she would be doing society and herself a favor. That night she had used her hands and fists to deliver stinging blows instead of the stinging of the willow whip. Erik thought he would much rather have his mother use the whip instead of her own delicate hands. For some reason the blows of her hands seemed to hurt twice as badly as the ones from the whip. The whip left bleeding sores at times while her hands only left bruises. The wounds those delicate hands left on his heart would never heal.
Sounds coming through the open coach window drew Erik's attention back to the present.
Erik's ears perked up when he heard the music of a calliope. His senses were assaulted by so many aromas at once. Things he had never smelled before. His stomach growled in response to the tempting smells.
His mother frowned at him as if he had made the noise on purpose. Any noise coming from Erik his mother considered sent by the devil. He never could figure out what purpose she thought those sounds would serve. They only embarrassed Erik and made his mother angry. He didn't think the world's destruction would come from them as his mother predicted. Erik wished he had such power as his mother claimed he commanded.
When the coach came to a stop Erik looked at his mother. She kept her face forward even as she began to speak to him. Rarely did she ever look Erik in the eye. When she did it was to make certain he understood what he was being punished for, even if he never did clearly understand why.
"Erik I have tried my best. I really have. I find I can no longer bear the responsibility for anything you may do. No matter what I do the demon stays in you. I had thought with prayer and strict discipline I could drive him out and return the face a son of mine should have.
After so many years battling this demon I find I don't have the energy to continue. I am going to England to spend time with your father's family. They have asked me many times to make the trip but with the responsibility of you I could not. They know nothing of you. I did not wish to burden them with news of their only sons demon spawn. Righteous people to a fault they would not be able to accept you any more than I can. I had hoped with years to learn to love you I might develop some attachment to you. That has not happened. The fault must be lain upon the demon inside you.
Your father was a good man Erik. I tried to be both faithful and pious when it came to God. One of us, or perhaps both, must have done some unforgivable sin or let our guard down to let this demon enter you. I suppose the sin was mine as he had entered into my womb to taint you.
Erik, today your life will change. I hope for the better. I only want the best for you. May you and God forgive me for what I must now do. I fear that I will commit the sin of taking your life one day. That is not what I wish. Although I cannot love you I find I cannot hate you either. It is my responsibility to make sure you are taken care of while keeping your inner demon away from society.
This place I have brought you to has many different people. Some normal, others only God knows if they were born of human parents or spawned by demons. They are your kind Erik. They will know how to deal with you. Perhaps some day they will succeed in driving out your demon."
A man came to the door of the coach. Erik could only see his face but what he saw he did not like. His mind was still reeling with what his mother had said. He tried to understand what she meant. Did she mean only to leave him here for a visit? He did not want to stay here. Nothing felt right about this place.
The man opened the door. His clothing was made like nothing Erik had ever seen. He had a large silver ring in his ear. His teeth sparkled with gold when Erik caught a brief glimpse of them. The man did not look very clean to him and he was certain his mother would not let this man touch him as she hated uncleanliness in any form.
"Madame I am the man you wished to speak with. Is this the boy? How old?" The man spoke with some sort of foreign accent that made it hard to understand him.
Erik glanced at his mother to see her place her handkerchief over her nose. He wished he had thought to bring one. The man's foul smell overpowered the pleasant odors from before.
"Monsieur please step away a few paces." When the awful man had complied with her request she continued.
"He is six. In a couple of months he will be seven. I call him Erik. You may name him as you wish. I relinquish all rights to him. He can read quite well and he is presently learning to write. He is adept at musical instruments of any kind. When he plays he composes the most haunting music. I think it is the demon in him trying to mesmerize those who listen. His voice seems angelic. I fear for anyone that becomes enraptured by him. You must always be on your guard."
"What of his father? Will I take the little devil only to have some angry father chasing after me?" Javart knew better than to believe this woman's ill formed ideas of what this boy really was. Javart had many such children and adults in his show. They earned their keep or they went missing. There would always be those who were born different. If not Javart was not above making his own little demons. A quick cut with a knife could alter the most beautiful face in seconds.
"His father died many years ago before Erik was born in fact. He left me to deal with this demon from something unholy. I learned of you from a servant who attended one of your performances. Of course I saw this as an opportunity to place Erik with people of his kind, a place where he will fit in."
Javart did not contradict the lady but he knew as well as she did that her only interest was to free herself of this child who kept her from living her life. She looked to be a somewhat youngish woman. Damn good-looking too. She could spout off about doing this for the good of the boy but Javart knew better. He had been through this same scene many times with the same result. They rid themselves of a child they could not stomach and he gained an exhibition and coins in his purse.
He may dress like a derelict but in reality he had quite a fortune tucked away. One he wished to keep until he felt ready to spend more than a few nights in one place. He made his living exploiting the misery of others, going from town to town, giving everyone a thrill. They got excitement he filled his coffers.
Erik felt himself being pulled roughly from the coach. Did his mother mean for him to leave her? Would he not ever see her again? No, there must be some mistake. Mothers did not give their children away, not if they loved them.
Erik stopped struggling for a moment to look back at his mother. She did not turn her head to look at him once. The coachman had climbed down ready to shut the door. Erik began to struggle in earnest as well as cry.
"Please mother, don't let him take me. I'll be good, I swear. I'll cut the demon out of me." Erik began to claw at his face. Javart did not stop him at first as any damage only added to the attraction. When he thought the boy had done enough he turned him upside down and shook the boy as he held him by his small ankle.
"Now little demon, devil's child what will you do? Yes, I like that. The Devil's Child. Forget Erik. He no longer exists. You are now The Devil's Child."
Javart laughed as he carried the still squirming boy to the cage he had prepared on wheels. This would be the boy's new home for as long as Javart earned coins from the astonished and frightened customers.
He'd need to make the boy fear him, show him to fight was useless. Fear, Javart had learned was a powerful weapon. One he readily used on his exhibits as well as the others in his nomadic tribe.
Javart unlocked the door of the cage and pushed the door closed with a loud metal clang behind him. Forever after Erik would associate that sound with the loss of his freedom and the descent into hell.
That horrible man had removed most of his clothes telling Erik that little monsters did not need clothing. People did not pay to see well dressed and clean exhibits. The more disgusting Javart could make his exhibits the more money they pulled in. People liked to view such things. It was like watching a fire destroy another's property or gazing in horrified fascination at the scene of some accident or other. Humanity reveled in the misery of others for all they touted the bible book and verse.
Having taken all but Erik's trousers the man began to roll him on the dirty floor of the cage. His mother would be furious. How could he make the man stop? He did not want to be punished for being dirty. Erik did the only thing a six year old could do effectively, he bit Javart on his hand until it bleed.
Javart threw Erik across the cage into the metal bars. Erik lay stunned. He had felt pain before but nothing like this. He felt broken.
"You little damned demon. I'll beat your resistance right out of you. Damn heathen animal. I'll have a nasty scar there for sure."
Javart had been advancing on Erik as he spoke. His hand had been busy removing the leather belt from his trousers. Before Erik knew what was coming he felt the first tearing lash across his back. He felt his skin rip then he could feel the wetness of his life's blood coating his back.
Erik could not count the number of lashes he received as he lost focus after ten when the pain overtook him. Even if he could have counted higher he lost consciousness after the twelfth stinging contact of the leather. Javart may well have killed Erik that night if one of the other men from the fair had not walked past to see Javart hitting what was now obviously an unconscious boy.
"Best quit now Javart. Wouldn't want to lose a potential crowd pleaser now would you? Give it a rest and come join us in a drink after the last show." Rocko could sympathize with whatever poor creature had come under Javart's care. Only one man among them could rival Javart for temper or punishment to those who wronged him.
"Right you are Rocko, right you are. Wouldn't do to take his life before I even earn one franc from him. I'll be right over as soon as I clean this bite on my hand. I think the thing is half cannibal judging by how he dug his teeth in me. If he doesn't work out as The Devil's Child I can always coat him with shoe polish and pig's blood and claim I caught him in Africa eating the flesh of his tribe members. Those who seek the unusual would eat that up." Javart laughed along with Rocko at his joke.
Javart knelt down so he could speak to Erik. His voice held deadly promise in every word he spoke.
"This was just a taste of what I can do boy. Forget any hope of your mother or anyone else coming for you. No one cares. The sooner you learn that and except the truth of it the better off you will be. I am stronger and I can last longer than you boy. Remember tonight. I have a feeling this will be the first of many.
I will be coming back later so don't waste your wishes and prayers. God doesn't want anything to do with you or else he would never have placed you in my hands. I am the collector of those God and man have abandoned. From now on you are the same as the animals in the other cages. You are an animal. Perform well and things won't be so bad. Cross me and tonight's little demonstration will seem like love taps compared to how badly I can hurt you if I wish it and there isn't a damn thing you or anyone else can do about it."
Javart left Erik to recover from the beating. Javart set about painting a sign for his newest acquisition. He painted the words The Devil's Child boldly across the banner he had white washed over an old exhibit's name. The Lizzard man now lay deep in the ground feeding the worms. He had crossed Javart once too often.
Erik could only hear muffled words through the roaring in his ears. The blow to his head when he hit the bars temporarily affected his hearing. The pain he felt seemed to be far worse than anything he had ever felt before. His physical pain did not compare to the great hurt he felt deeply inside himself.
He was frightened and oddly enough he wanted his mother. If she were to come right this second he would welcome her. He would beg her forgiveness for whatever he had done and promise never to do it again. As much as he hated that dark cellar he would willingly stay in there forever just not to be here in this place.
As his senses cleared and he regained his full faculties Erik began to hear the sound of the nightlife of the fair just coming to the end of their day. The crowds were thinning. Everyone would soon be safe in their own homes.
Erik scrambled to stand on unsteady feet then staggered to the bars. If he could catch someone's attention perhaps they could release him then take him home.
Seeing a couple of young teens just a few feet away Erik called out to them. At first they just stood looking about trying to discover who had called to them. When they realized the voice came from one of the cages for the fairs display of oddities they hurried over. Why not take advantage of a free show?
Picking up some sticks and a few small pebbles they cautiously approached the cage.
"Please help me. I have been put in here by a very bad man who took me from my mother. I must get out so I can go home. Please help me. If you do my mother will pay you. I promise."
The boys read the banner hanging across the top of the cage. The Devil's Child stood out in deep red with flames drawn around the words. Pictures of a horned devil holding a three pronged pitch fork also adorned the banner.
The older and braver of the two poked Erik in his arm with the stick he held in his hand. When Erik cried out the boy laughed. The second boy did not wish to miss out on the fun so he used his own stick to poke the little devil in the cage.
"Devil's Child we can't let you out. Your kind need to be kept a watch on. My father says the wicked will carry the devil's markings." Looking around the boy saw a torch on the a pole just outside a tent a couple of cages away. Grabbing the torch he ran back to let the light of the torch shine on the occupant of the cage. Once Erik's unmasked face came into view the boy dropped the torch as real fear took him from boyish teasing to outrage against a being he did not understand. He began to through the pebbles hitting Erik with stinging accuracy. The other boy soon joined in as Erik sank down with his hands wrapped over his head for protection.
The two throwing the rocks did not hear a little boy's cries. What filtered into their fear fogged minds was the howling of some unholy being.
Once all their missiles had been thrown they cursed at the demon spitting on his curled body lying on the ground sobbing inconsolably. Erik was confused and hurting. What had he done? He had not done anything to those boys, at least not anything he knew of. The only thing he knew for sure he had done to his mother had been being born and not dying as she had prayed for him to do.
He crawled to the far corner where a small pile of hay had been shoved against the wall. He lay down and curled into a ball as tightly as he could. Erik cried himself to sleep on that cold wooden floor. This would be a nightly occurrence until Erik accepted his fate.
Even the hardest heart would perhaps have felt some small bit of sympathy if they could hear the heartbreaking sobs of a lonely and confused little boy who would do whatever they wanted if only they would take him home.
Erik did not know it yet but he soon would, he would never go home again. His mother would become some vague shadowy figure. He would learn what real misery was over the next five years of his captivity.
Javart had told Erik the whole ugly truth. Over the next five years he would know more pain than most humans can tolerate. He suffered nightly beatings if he did not respond as Javart expected or the crowd wanted him to be more animalistic and less like a little boy.
His food could only be described as adequate to sustain life, if one could consider the garbage they gave him food. Erik received two rations of the same leftover food from meals that the working animals of the fair received.
Javart had taken his leather mask and given him a burlap sack to cover his head with until such time as he had a sufficient number of people to make it worth his while to feed Erik for the night. When the crowd came demanding to see the devil's spawn Javart would then reveal what was hidden under that sack.
Erik learned that those on the other side of the bars did not want him to speak to them as a normal boy. They wanted grunts, growls and snarling as he bared his teeth. They wanted him frothing at the mouth as he clawed at them through the bars.
Any humanity Erik had once possessed slowly drained from him as night after night he had to let Javart rip his mask from him exposing his face to the thrill seekers outside his cage. The words that had been hurled at Erik were far more hurtful than the beatings. Those words ripped his self-worth to shreds.
Tears Erik learned quickly were a waste of his precious bodily fluids. No one cared that he had little clothing to warm him during the freezing winters. If Javart had gotten drunk either before or after a performance Erik went without food or water until Javart recovered. No one was allowed to have anything to do with Javart's property and that is what Erik was, property. Something of value only as long as he kept the crowds coming.
Javart had thought of letting Erik play the violin or perhaps a guitar during a performance. He had even gone so far as to allow an elder to teach him to play several different instruments.
The pleasure Erik received from those minutes that he let the music that came to him in his mind flow through his fingers were the happiest moments in Erik's life. Javart did not want a happy or contented freak. He wanted a wild and untamed beast. He took away Erik's privileges to touch any instrument. The elder had gone behind Javart's back once so that Erik might play for his own enjoyment. Javart had caught him and both the older man and Erik paid dearly for their disobedience.
The scars on Erik's back would multiply as Javart grew more cruel and demanding. The year Erik had been with the fair for four years Javart decided he had enough money now and no longer wished to live the life of a vagabond.
He sold Erik to another man who had displays in the fair also. On the evening before Javart was to leave he had watched the crowd carefully looking for just the right person.
When a man of similar features and height to himself came along he could not believe his luck. Javart followed the man around waiting for the man to be alone.
When the man went behind the tents to relieve himself, Javart wrapped a thin wire around the man's neck. Once the man fell to the ground Javart quickly dragged him to the back of his own tent. Cutting the back he dragged the man inside. Using the can of kerosene he had placed in his tent earlier Javart emptied the can spreading the kerosene around the whole tent. Lighting a match he bid farewell to a life he had lived for the past twenty odd years. Now he would begin his new life with his forged papers and his hidden fortune.
Hearing that miserable demon screaming Javart cursed himself for not remembering to move the cage just a little further along. Oh well too late now. He would not risk his plans being foiled with any concern for that miserable creature. He would be better off dead anyway.
Javart's last look at his old life was of his tent blazing with sparks being thrown into the cage next to it. The boy he saw rolling around as his trouser leg had caught fire. Well at least the devil was in familiar territory. Fire and brimstone. Javart laughed to himself. He had known that one day he would have to send that demon back to hell. Too bad for Nico though. He had counted on Erik earning him a good amount of money. Now all he would have would perhaps be charred bones.
Turning away Javart picked up the valise he had hidden behind a water barrel. As he walked away a pair of eyes followed his every step. Javart would have shivered in fear if he would have seen the glowing look of hatred in Erik's young eyes. Had there ever been a child so young filled with such animosity against another human being? Erik's young mind vowed that before he died he would revenge himself for all that had been done to him. Someday he would be free. Someday they would all pay. All humanity would pay for every second he had been held in this cage tortured almost daily with no hope of anyone intervening.
If Erik had thought Javart a cruel man he soon learned the true meaning of the word. Now he felt he had truly been delivered to the hell his mother always warned him about. Hell was not some unseen fiery pit below heaven. Hell was existing in a cage treated as an animal. Live as an animal long enough and humanity quickly takes a backseat as hatred for your own kind quickly possesses your whole being. Soon you will fight as an animal does just to survive.