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Disclaimer: I don't own POTO or Frankenstein

Kristine draped a cloth over the girl's body and crossed herself. It wouldn't be right to gaze at the corpse. Bad luck, as mother had said. She hoped the child could find peace in the afterlife. She rubbed her belly. Hush dear.

It was nightfall and Erik still hadn't returned. Not for the first time, she wondered if he was running away, as many criminals were wont to do. But he had left the violin, the case still covered in dry blood. Gustave and his companions hadn't returned either, though she was used to their late outings. Her husband had once expressed a desire to play in traveling fairs. He was in his prime, stricken with wanderlust and still stuck in their dreary winter village. With their child underway, Kristine had a feeling they would be stuck for a good while longer.

What if there had been something out there. Perhaps Erik was...

No, Kristine wasn't one to think such morbid thoughts. There was a knocking on the door. A little too brashly, she immediately rushed towards it, relieved that she would no longer be alone. She opened it. Speak of the devil.

"Erik?"

"Mme. Daae. I do apologize."

"I don't speak French."

He stared at her, eyes unfocused behind the mask. Erik shook his head lightly. He spoke again, in Swedish, "I apologize. I was called away on short notice."

He was covered in flakes of snow. Snow. Standing in the cold would do neither of them good, especially for her child. She ushered him in and shut the door. Erik approached the fireplace and stood before the flames, his shadow long and twisted. Water dripped on the floor.

"I'll take your cloak."

"Of course."

Kristine took the cloak and hat from him, not daring to wonder about the sparse hair on his head. How old was he? She didn't think on it too long. Orange shadows flickered against his black mask. His eyes shut.

"You're very thin."

"I know."

"Are you hungry, Erik? We'll be having dinner when Gustave gets back." She hung up his articles and wondered what possessed her to lend him another invitation. It didn't matter- Gustave would have done the same, bless his heart.

"I haven't been this full in a very long time," he replied tiredly.

As glad as she was for company, Kristine wasn't entirely comfortable. Without Gustave to chatter, she found herself observing every uncanny detail on the Frenchman. He really was horribly thin and the skeletal fingers reminded her of a spider's legs. Even his cloak smelled lightly of...

Death.

Gustave and Frederik approached his cottage. A nice bowl of stew would clear his mind of the omen in the forest. The girl's corpse was still in his home and it wouldn't do to house death for so long. He sighed. Jorgen and the carpenter would arrive later; the body belonged with her father. He all but sprinted towards the door.

He knocked loudly, Frederik catching up with him. His ears were greeted with Kristine's scream before the door opened.

"Gustave," she said, eyes bulging, "thank God you're back!"

Gustave hurriedly stepped into the cottage, pulling Frederik along, Kristine tugging at his arm. The door shut and Frederik bolted it as the couple stared at one another. He assessed her, seized by panic.

"Kristine, I heard you cry. Are you alright? Is it the child? What-"

Kristine shook her head, attention elsewhere. Gustave's eyes went to the source. A figure was clumsily slumped on the ground, the face masked, and black in the eye holes. Gustave stepped past his wife and dropped by Erik's side.

"What happened?"

"He didn't try anything, did he?" Frederik demanded, approaching them with caution, Kristine taking her place by Gustave.

She shook her head again. "He was fine a moment ago. He fainted. I don't know why."

Gustave grabbed the still man's hand, and nearly dropped it. It was cold, just as lifeless as the dead girl. "Not dead." He glanced at the mask. It might be best if they removed it- his hand inched toward it, just when those yellow eyes flickered back.

"No," they seemed to say.

"Erik?"

"M. Daae." He said it softly. Gustave placed his hands below the man's shoulders and struggled to lift him up, disconcerted by the amount of bone poking back. Erik shifted and stifled a groan, as if finally waking up. He stood up, shaking in Gustave's pull, and broke free, staggering somewhat.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine. Thank you, I- I should be on my way. I should apologize for the inconvenience," Erik shot back, words spoken so quickly Gustave nearly missed them. The masked man held a hand to his temple and winced.

"Surely you'll stay for dinner."

"No, no- I've imposed on you too long." He stumbled about dizzily. "Now where is that violin?"

"I'll get it." Kristine's footsteps faded.

"Erik, you wouldn't know anything about noises in the woods, would you?" Frederik asked, more of a statement than a question. Gustave wasn't sure where that conclusion came from.

"Woods?" Erik leaned against a wall, trembling lightly. "Oh, the woods. Ah, yes. Just animals."

"No chanting?"

"Why ever would there be chanting? Unless you believe in nonsense. All nonsense, today. Nonsense."

"I don't trust you, mask."

"What a loss."

Gustave was about to intervene before one of them started throwing punches when Kristine returned with Erik's case. The man left the wall and took it from her with a mumbled "thank you." Gustave followed him as he began donning his cloak.

"I could go with you, Erik. The inn's not far, but still quite a walk-"

"You've done enough, M. Daae. I do appreciate your hospitality."

Erik stood by the door, waiting for Gustave to show him out. The latter wondered whether or not it would be appropriate to comment on the violin. Given the events of the day, he decided against it. Gustave opened the door and bid farewell.

Adam. He had never had the chance to properly use that name, except with Aana. Dear Aana. The creature wandered, feeling a blossoming happiness that he hoped would never leave. The logical part of his mind told him he needed to proceed. He needed to ensure Erik's loyalty, his final companionship.

He would never make the mistakes of the past again.

There was something beneath his foot, that in his haste, he didn't notice. Adam looked down. It was a body, marred from head to toe, in some kind of symmetrical pattern, the blood dying the snow pink. Around it were wooden posts, tied to hay stacks. He knelt by the body. It was dead.

The tiny thing was just a child, younger than the victim Erik came upon. It was stark naked, mutilated flesh covered in burns. Burns. Charred remains of some unidentifiable object were scattered in the snow. The whole thing was too coordinated to be coincidental.

The child was male.

Erik wrapped the blankets tighter around himself, teeth chattering beyond his control. He was cold, so horribly cold. The snow was piling up behind his dirty window. So damn cold and tired. The wind was whistling, loud in his ears and pounding head.

Was it night? Or morning? He couldn't tell. He just wanted to leave. Perhaps he had dreamed the creature, no, man named Adam up. Perhaps he had collapsed in Daae's cottage longer than he realized. He hated the inn.

Was Adam real? He had seen the tears in his unnatural eyes, seen the man practically break from joy when he, Erik, the living corpse, had accepted the man's plead for friendship. He, the living corpse, the shah-in-shah's pet demon, the devil incarnate. It felt... good.

He glanced at the bruises on his shoulders, ten large marks blackening and purple against his chalky skin. They were sore, horribly sore. He almost smiled, if it wasn't for the cold. Adam was real. Erik was real.

Too real to be true.

The bars were large, casting shadows that threatened to trap him forever. He crouched further, trying to ignore the confines of the cage. It shook with each movement. Chanting.

Come one! Come all! See the Living Corpse! The crack of a whip. He shook, naked and bleeding. It hurt. He screamed. Scorpions on each side, the sun's rays slicing past the shadows and burning what little flesh he head. He melted, covered in fire and bugs.

Their faces laughed at him. They turned away, disgusted. The sultana clapped her hands in glee. The noose around his neck. She pulled. Laughing. Laughing. Screaming! Screaming! Scr-

Erik awoke to the pounding of the door, a shout caught in his dry mouth. He pushed the covers from his trembling body and hugged his torso, feeling a bout of nausea. He had to get away from the room, before the vomit came out. He was wet with cold sweat. Placing the mask on his face, Erik rolled out of bed, fumbling for a clean shirt. The pounding continued.

He staggered toward the door. "Who is it!?"

"I- it's me, Gustave."

The nausea subsided. He didn't plan on doing anything but lying in bed all day. He was much too tired and much too sore. Too damned cold. Steadying himself, Erik took a painful breath and opened the door. It must have been morning.

Gustave offered a sheepish smile, tugging at his own coat. "May I come in?"

"Why?" His legs were threatening to give way.

The other man's face darkened. "I don't know who else to speak with. Please, Erik."

"Fine."

Erik stepped aside for Gustave and shut the door, feeling as if they were being watched. He glanced at the window- no, too much snow.

"I heard you screaming. Are you-"

"Fine! It was a nightmare, I'm sure all men get them."

Gustave shed his coat and hung it on the back of a rickety chair, looking at Erik for permission to sit. The latter nodded before taking his own place on the bed's side.

"I'm sorry I didn't let you get dressed."

"Hm."

"Are you injured?"

Why would he be- Erik looked at himself then. He had left his collar unbuttoned from the night before, a few of the bruises clear as day. "It's nothing. What did you want to say?"

Daae twiddled his thumbs, as if thinking about where to begin. "Last night, me and Frederik heard noises in the forest on the path home. Chanting. I went back to the scene this morning, when no one was there. Some of the woodsmen found a body there, a dead boy. You've seen the girl. This boy was younger, and worse off. It looked like-"

The man looked sick. "They cut every inch of him with a knife. There was a pattern to it, almost. And all sorts of objects around him. It was organized. Someone was torturing these children."

"I'm sure there are worse in the world." Erik would know.

"I don't know why anyone would do this. Frederik thinks it was a group of men. Some of the villagers say it was the monster in the woods, but this seems- I don't know, Erik, this seems more man-made."

"Why are you telling me?" He was shivering again.

"I asked around. Frederik did too. They- some of our neighbors didn't respond. Oddly- I would think this kind of thing would have more of a response! They're being horribly quiet about it. I even suggested we call in the law. Some of the men reacted strongly against it. We don't aggravate too many people here. It's too small."

Gustave shook his head to and fro. "I think someone in the village is doing this. I don't know why."

"A cult. I've seen a few in my lifetime."

Why was he telling Gustave this? Perhaps he was more ill than he thought. He would be out of the village as soon as the snow let out. What of Adam? He pushed the thought from his head.

"What should I do? We can't let this go on!"

We? Erik sighed. "Observe another night. Are the victims special in some way?"

"Up til now they've all been young women, if you count the monster's rumors."

"If it's a group, there must be motivation."

"I would ask you to come with me, Erik. I know it's a huge favor, given all your... misfortune yesterday, but you seem to know better than us. You were right about the girl. It wasn't one man, it was several."

The man was sincere. It shone in his eyes and speech. Quite frankly, it made Erik want to turn away, but Gustave did make a point. People were dying, in methods he had hoped to have escaped for good. The daroga would surely have helped.

"I'll come."

Adam skulked past the inn quietly, having seen the exchange between the violinist and his friend. His anger was muffled- it was something he had never felt up to that moment. Possessiveness. He didn't want Daae near Erik.

Or did he not want Erik near Daae? It vexed him that this still bothered him. He trusted Erik not to shun him. He had guessed at what lay behind the mask and he was sure it was something that barred him from befriending men like Daae.

But if Erik did not care for Daae, why would he agree to help the man. A long time ago, Adam would have chalked it up to good will, but he knew for a fact now that no such thing existed. There was something bitter about the masked man, something Adam was sure he had cracked and Daae had not.

Regardless, he knew he was being framed for heinous crimes, crimes his father would have decried. Not for the first time, Adam wondered if Erik too had a father.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are more than welcome.

I hope this kind of lives up to the horror genre or at least drama. Next time: the companions meet again, some more disturbing details about the so-called cult, Erik gets sicker, and more Adam angst.