Thanks for reviewing! I hope this was worth the wait, for everyone interested. We're getting a little closer to the climax now.

Disclaimer: I don't own POTO or Frankenstein

"The boy's father wouldn't speak," Gustave rambled, "I don't want to accuse anyone without evidence but..."

Erik was only half listening, eyes intent on the charred stakes in the snow. The blood from before must have been covered by the snow. He hadn't been this cold since his time in Russia, and even then, he hadn't felt the need to collapse with each step. The mask felt too heavy for his face and his head was about to roll off his shoulders.

The scene was disturbing, confirming their suspicions. The wooden posts were placed at exact intervals, in an almost holy way. If this was torture simply for its sake, the victims wouldn't come one by one. They wouldn't be so similar, so methodical. Erik narrowed his eyes, struggling to blink past the dots in his vision. If what Gustave and his friends had seen and heard was correct, then there were a number of men involved.

"Are they religious?" he asked abruptly.

"Our village is mostly Christian."

Erik made a sound of acknowledgment before circling the scene once more. The haystacks were scattered, as if there had been more before a fire was lit. He remembered rituals he'd seen in passing, ranging from elaborate to simple, some involving bonfires. Rituals.

This was certainly not of pagan influence, nor Abrahamic from what he could tell.

"Whoever is responsible for this- they came up with this on their own. It was a ritual."

"Are you sure?"

"If you choose not to believe me, I shall leave."

Gustave fumbled for words. "No, no- I- I'm sorry. It's all a bit much to take. Erik, it's been going on for some time I think. At least a year since some girls went missing. Their families were quiet in their mourning."

The man rubbed his hands together and let out a shaky breath. "But I'm not so sure anymore."

"Surfaces are hard to read, M. Daae."

Erik turned around, finished with the task at last. He admitted that he wouldn't be able to last much longer. "Some masks are more obvious than others." It was a dark mutter that Gustave may or may not have heard.

"We could go see Frederik."

Erik scoffed. "I'd rather not. You tell him what I said. There's nothing you can do but wait for more detail- it is your home after all."

Gustave nodded. "I take it you'll be going back to the inn now?"

"Yes."

"I'd like to say thank you for-"

Erik waved it off and Gustave once more trailed off, unsure how to act around the other man for the umpteenth time. The men left the area in silence, a bird fluttering in the distance.

Adam walked quietly, careful to maneuver himself between the trees, though he was sure no one would see him. The weather was getting worse by the day and he had no intention of getting caught in it now that he finally had something greater to occupy his mind with. Hunger gnawed at him, but it was a sensation he could bear for the time being.

Something had to be done about his new companion. He could never go back to that aching loneliness, now that he knew what it was to be acknowledged, to be befriended. He needed to Erik to desire his companionship.

The other task he needed to complete was rid the world of his impersonators. They would pay dearly for mocking him.

There was a dark figure kneeling in the snow a little ways ahead, a shivering lump of black. Curious, Adam approached it, keeping his huge body out of sight. He let his guard down when he saw the shape of a mask.

"Erik." The word carried through and a yellow eye confirmed his greeting. Stepping out from behind a dying tree, Adam stood before him.

"It's you," Erik said, with a vague hint of surprise.

"Are you ill?"

"Perhaps." With a stifled groan, the masked man rose to his feet unsteadily. "The sooner I leave this dreaded place, the better."

Leave. Erik seemed unaware of the frown that was pulling at the creature's face. He felt a tight surge of anger overwhelm him. No, he would not let his temper break the friendship it had taken him so hard to earn. He would not be mad at Erik.

"I cannot leave just yet," Adam said instead, "I have enemies to investigate, as you have probably learned."

A flare of interest showed in the other man's eyes. "You've seen it too? The boy?"

"I have. I do not remember if I've told you, but that group of men I saw, they had a mask with them. A mask in my visage. What crimes I have done, I will not lie to you- they are wretched, but I assure you, I was not responsible for these murders."

Erik seemed to be contemplating the meaning of his words, a little too slowly for the man who seemed so sharp the day before. "When did you arrive, Adam? Here?"

He never kept track of the days, but for a time, Aana had occupied his thoughts, given him some vain hope of waiting. "Six months ago, perhaps a little longer."

"Someone must have seen you."

"A few did." Some he silenced.

"It could have been a year... yes, the women, the children, ah, ah, Daae was right in what he told Erik," the masked man muttered, his words turning into strained babbles, "Erik was right... Daae... the babe will be in trouble- oh, who gives a damn, not Erik, no, not-"

This curious pattern of speech left Adam unprepared. Something was wrong with Erik, in the mind or body, he did not know. It might have been both. In his creator's last days, he was prone to these incoherent speeches. He himself may have had an explosive temper, an almost inhuman level of emotion, but he had never felt madness. Coldly, he thought he was incapable.

Madness, delirium, symptoms that were oh so painfully human.

Daae. Again, he felt that flicker of rage. He hated the violinist then, loathed him.

Erik staggered and swayed, nearly hitting the ground once more when Adam caught him by the arms. The masked man's breaths came out in ragged gasps, those yellow eyes shut, his body convulsing.

Were they as similar as he had first thought? Adam crushed the thought. He would not be so quick to cast aside the one companionship he ever had.

Thinking about how to approach his goals, the larger man set Erik by a tree and sat beside him. "Are you dying?"

"No... I don't know- Adam, you're real- the daroga will be shocked to know, shocked..."

He was talking in a sleepy haze, already lost in a world of dreams. Adam listened to him speak, wondering if he could find out more about the man this way.

"Daroga, you boring fart... that's what he was you see, Erik was always the fun one... oh daroga, Erik was right- no, you were right, oh..."

Erik shuddered, silenced at last, leaving Adam with still no knowledge. Daroga. It seemed to be a name Erik was terribly attached to. He wondered if it was another man, a man like Daae.

"Adam, are you going to kill them?" Erik asked quietly, his words still feverish and likely unconscious.

"No," he lied.

"Good, good- Erik does not kill anymore... Adam should try the same..."

The creature watched his companion steadily return to the land of sleep. He considered those words, feeling his hands twitch with aggravation.

Erik woke to the blur of a fire in front of him. Everything was stiff and frozen. The sky was taking on a shade of pink, and his head pounded furiously. His last memory was of conversing with Adam, earning a few new clues about the cult, before everything morphed into a swirl. He stood up, pressing heavily against the tree behind him.

"A- Adam?" he asked, not having the strength to go beyond a whisper.

There was no reply. He assumed the man was responsible for the fire. Taking a few more steps toward it, Erik hugged his arms, wishing his cloak was thicker. He recalled hearing his own thoughts. He hoped he hadn't revealed too much to Adam, though he doubted his friend had anyone to confide them to.

His mind was whirl of memories and theories as he began the disoriented walk back to town, falling into the snow with every few steps. If they had started the rituals after seeing Adam, then they must have been waiting for a similar sign. Somehow, the sight of a "demon" had given them reason to start whatever it was they were doing.

Or was it a living corpse? Were they trying to do something involving the occult? For protection or a pact? Or something he was yet to suspect?

He stumbled, feeling a sharp pain in his head as it hit a protruding stone. Erik lifted himself off the ground, the snow before him decked with specks of blood. He pressed shaky fingers to the side of his head, only to have them come back stained with red. Retrieving his hat, he stood up, blinking uncomfortably as the blood trickled into his eye.

Erik tugged at the strings of his mask, pulling it off just in time to bend over and vomit. There was nothing for him to throw up and he ended up coughing water on the ground. Teeth chattering, he wiped his face with the cloak before replacing the mask sloppily.

The cult only seemed to go after young women and children. People like Daae were safe. Yes, Daae was safe. He himself was safe. Frederik, Jorgen, even Adam. Something bothered him.

They started with girls, ones old enough to bear children... his vision spotted and cleared... and now they were going after children, regardless of gender. His head stung.

Ignoring the blur that his world had become, Erik walked on, leaning on the trees for support. Gustave's wife was pregnant. She was the only pregnant woman he had seen so far. Perhaps there were more.

Kristine was in danger, of what nature he had yet to figure out. He would warn Daae in the morning.

Gustave spooned the last of his food in silence, not bothering to acknowledge Kristine's questions. Erik's words ran in loops over his mind. Anyone was a suspect at this point. Frederik didn't seem like one, at least.

But what could there to be gain from all of this? He slammed the bowl down.

"Gustave!"

"Sorry."

He still hadn't purchased a new violin and they were running low on money. The rising danger in their village troubled him, especially with a child on the way. Kristine touched his hand and he did his best to smile.

"Gustave, I've been meaning to speak with you about something. I didn't tell you yesterday, when they discovered... the body... because it seems so silly, but I- I knew that boy."

Gustave froze. "What?"

"I knew him." Kristine bit her lower lip in agitation, checking their window to make sure the evil spirits were at rest. "The poor child, he never told me his name, I think it was Bernhard."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"It was a few weeks ago. When we were in the village- you were in the tavern. I was finishing our shopping and he was playing. He seemed very sad, Gustave. But he noticed the swelling... he-he came to me and we talked. He said he hoped it, our child, wouldn't become a myling. Then his father called."

"A- a myling?"

"I know it's terrible to think of, but he was so scared when he said it."

Gustave stood up and wrapped his arms around his wife. Suddenly everything made just a little more sense, though he wished it didn't.

It was some time after he was sure Erik had stumbled away that Adam returned to the spot, thankful that he had the sense to start the fire. His companion was not built nearly as strong as himself. He turned back and headed toward the clearing, the spot where he had first discovered the corpse.

There was a man there, his face shrouded by a hood, kneeling by each post, holding his arms toward the sky. The man stood up when he was done and took an object out of his cloak, a glistening silver thing. Adam could see the stains on the knife. It hadn't been cleaned. He watched with morbid fascination as the man brought the thing to his own exposed arm and let a string of blood drip in a circle on the snow. The man walked, spraying his blood over the hay and wood.

Adam stalked toward him. So this was one of them- one of his dear enemies. He walked behind the man with a snarl, startling the other. Before the man had a chance to retaliate, his wrist was bent back, the knife flying away.

Adam crushed it, listening with indifference to the accompanying cries of pain. He brought his huge hands over the man's windpipe next, squeezing until the man stopped flailing, until the life had left him.

He dropped the body on the ground, satisfied, and kicked the hood away. He stared into the pale bluing face of Jorgen, a man he knew to be one of Daae's favorite companions.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are extremely welcome, of course.

Hope that was enjoyable. As for the mystery of the mylings, I personally find them very creepy, and because Gustave's going to have to explain what they are to Erik, I'm going to leave those of you who aren't familiar with them in the dark about what they are for right now.

Just a funny reminder that Erik's only been in this place for about 3-4 days, and all this has happened.