Sorry for the long wait! Again, thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. I promise that this chapter is taking us toward the climax.
Disclaimer: I don't own POTO or Frankenstein. Mylings are public domain, not that I want to own them.
No! No! The serpents curled around his waist. Their faces laughed. They screamed. He felt the blood trickle down his back. He gasped- he gasped- the flames rolled away and there was nothing left but the harsh sound of his breath...
Erik awoke with a low moan, convulsing in the sheets, and wet with sweat. His breath came out sharply, the air struggling to enter his lungs. The pain in his head hadn't subsided and he was sure the gash along his temple was bleeding once more. He doubled over and wretched on the floorboards.
Shaking, he brought a hand to the cloth around his head and pulled it back, seeing blurs of red on his skin. It was just a dream. He didn't remember how long he had been sleeping, when he had last taken any food, any water. Days, hours, minutes.
He felt a savage bout of coughing. Enough. Enough.
It was morning and he needed to see Gustave. He left the bed dizzily, the world coming at him in waves. Erik resisted the urge to vomit yet again, feeling stale and disgusting. It fits a creature like yourself. Yes, yes it did. But every moment spent was a moment wasted. Would the daroga ever forgive him if he let Daae's family die?
No. No.
Kristine patted her stomach once more, cooing a lullaby at the moving child. "What should we name you dear?"
In spite of the dark events that transpired over the past week, the thought of her child was enough to keep her content. Gustave would find means for money and the three of them would settle, content and loved. As the womb grew, she fantasized of little boys with her husband's eyes and girls with soft locks. Acke? Beata? Gustave? Kristina?
Perhaps they would give it a more exotic name. Christine.
She smiled. Naming the child after herself seemed vain- no, it was just a fantasy. She would leave the decision up to Gustave. There was a dull knocking on the cottage door, followed by the sound of Gustave's footsteps and various fussy greetings. From the room she shared with her husband, Kristine heard little of the conversation.
"Erik-!"
She froze, mildly panicked. He was back again? She shook her doubts away- Gustave certainly liked the man well enough. She crept towards the bedroom door and listened closely.
"Your head-"
"-Nothing. I have a disturbing theory to sh-"
A muffled noise. Gustave's yelp.
"Sit down- my man, you're shaking. Should I-"
"No! M. Daae- M. Daae, the cult. I know what they want. It's a vague idea, a preposterous idea, but it fills me with such dread!"
More whispers. Kristine strained to hear.
"The child who they... murdered, warned Kristine of mylings. Said he hoped our child wouldn't turn into one... Erik, I think they're trying to create mylings."
"My- lings?"
Gustave sucked in a breath. He had always hated to speak of the dark ones.
"Spirits of children, unbaptized and abandoned. They yearn to rest in sacred ground- they climb onto the backs of travelers and force them to cemeteries. It's happened to my grandfather before; he was lucky to have survived-"
"That's ludicrous! Drivel!" Coughing.
"Please! I speak the truth... they grow, they become heavy, and their victim dies if he can't make it to hallowed ground in time. I- I don't know why anyone would want to make more of these monsters, they live for vengeance. We've lived here for almost a decade- I thought I understood this town. Perhaps- perhaps I was wrong..."
Kristine heard nothing. She could barely hear her own breaths.
Erik spoke at last. "No, M. Daae, no... no. They want to summon those things- mylings. They go after young women, children, all of it points to some form of appeasement. Sacrifice. But why would they want to do this? No- Erik thinks- I think, he thinks- I-"
Erik rambled some more, slipping into various languages she didn't understand. Something was terribly wrong.
"-pardon me. I think they want the mylings? Yes, those, to help them in some way."
Coughing.
"They're coming for your wife, M. Daae."
Kristine's hands shot over her stomach. No. No. No. She had feared this from the very start. No.
No.
She shuddered, feeling the room grow ten times darker.
"Erik..."
"M. Daae, keep an eye on her. You are not a man who deserves this misfortune nor does she... please."
More hushed whispers. Feeling rather faint, Kristine stepped away from the door and fell back on their bed. She believed Erik. She believed every dark word that came out of his mouth.
She heard nothing more, save for the sound of Erik leaving. Gustave entered the room and buried his head in her shoulder. She stayed in his embrace for as long as she could count.
Adam blew away a layer of frost from the door. He entered the cottage moodily, yellow eyes searching for signs of intrusion. None. He didn't know whether to be elated or disappointed.
Adam should try the same. Erik baffled him- was he truly the companion the creature had sought for so long? He felt bitter brooding over it. Adam stared out the window. It would be time to hunt soon; he could survive without sustenance longer than most but even he needed nourishment from time to time. A thousand curses on Frankenstein.
Aana had claimed to be a friend, had provided so much that made him weep, and in the end, she had only been horrified to see his face. He had strangled her in anger. Always anger. He mourned Aana once more. She was an innocent. The deaths Daae was so concerned about were innocents.
There was a monster among the villagers. And for once, he realized, it was not himself.
He had been searching for clues about the supposed cult, if only for Erik's sake. Strange man! But the satisfying death of Jorgen had been impulsive- he did not have the chance to ask for more details. No, his savage nature took over once more. Frustrated, Adam clenched his nails so tight the blood dripped down his palms.
If Jorgen was a murderer, what did that make Daae? Was Erik the only innocent in all this?
He had an ultimatum to offer the man soon. Too many days had gone by with no new change. Tonight. Tonight.
The beating of drums in his ears. Darkness.
A pain in the back of his head. The door opening. A thud.
Gustave lay on the floor, staring upwards at shadows that passed, at leather faces and sinister hands.
Blood.
"They're coming for your wife."
Kristine.
No.
He saw Erik moving slowly down the snowy trail, shivering in his cloak and stopping every few paces to adjust his hat. The wind was tugging at the man, pushing him like a marionette, and littering his black clothing with snow. Adam held a hand to the hood over his head and stepped out of the trees en route to Daae's cottage.
How predictable.
He pushed the bitterness back. "My friend," he said, louder than intended.
Erik stopped in his tracks as Adam moved forward, stopping mere steps from him. "Bonjour," the masked man greeted before another cough escaped him. He clutched at the violin case in his hands.
"It's quite late," Adam stated, staring up at the bleak sky.
They had met on a night like this, he remembered. For the first time in his horrid existence, he had been accepted on a night like this. It greatly pained him to have to ask.
"Ah yes, I think it would be most beneficial to sell this-" he gestured at the case "-to the violinist. I plan to leave town in the morrow."
Leave.
"Alone?"
Cough. Cough. "Yes."
Without so much as a thought for the connection he was so sure they had. My companion, why?
"Erik, come with me. We have nothing in this world, nothing but one another. You, of all creatures I have had the misfortune of crossing paths with, understand this solitude like no other."
He stalked towards the other man, watching eagerly as Erik's eyes widened with emotion.
"Let us wander together."
Cough. Huff. Adam held his breath.
"I-"
He stepped closer.
"I can't."
Erik must have seen the hurt in his eyes for he quickly approached Adam of his own accord. "I still have ambitions, dear Adam. I'm not ready to give it all up just yet. I have no say in what you do, my friend, but I- I cannot wander."
His father. The cottagers. The villagers. Aana. The Finn. Daae.
And now Erik.
Rejected. Spurned. The word why? never even reached his head. Betrayal. He was losing control.
"A- Adam?"
No. He couldn't break now.
"I'm sorry. You could come with me- Paris, Belgium, places of beauty-"
"And what does beauty have for the likes of us?" he spat.
"Adam-"
"There is nothing there for us!" he roared, "Nothing! Do you think I am happy to wander? That I would not rather be like Daae, a normal man with a normal wife, who wins the affections of all he comes across!"
His shadow loomed over the other man.
"Adam! Calm yourself man!"
"His friend is among your beloved cult, monsieur! Like a sheep, you're being led on! Led on!"
It was over. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. The fists raised.
"If I was Daae, what would you say!? What would you say!?" he howled. "There's nothing there!"
"Adam, please-" Erik moved forward, placing a shivering hand on the larger man's shoulder.
The adrenaline drowned out the horror of Adam's first reaction. He saw the arm swing out, felt the anger in his blood come to a boiling point, and watched the fist drive into the masked man's side.
Crack.
Erik fell backwards and rolled, curling himself into a shaking ball half buried in snow. His arms hugged his torso, eyes staring ahead with dilated pupils. He hacked and gasped, attempting to pull himself up, only to fall back in pitiful coughs and moans.
No.
Adam felt his legs wobble. No. Aana should have been the last victim of blind rage. No. He stared at the hand that did the deed, loosening the fist just to see his fingers tremble. No! No! No!
What had he done? What had he done!? He stepped back, shaking his head, meeting Erik's pained gaze with his own terrified eyes.
"I didn't- I-" Adam babbled.
Horrified, he turned and ran, without a thought for the branches that whacked at his form.
"Adam!" Erik wheezed as the hooded figure ran away. He wasn't angry. How could he be? How many times had he himself snapped at the daroga?
It had been his own mistake. All his own. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself up, still clutching his torso and fighting to get off his knees. The world spun around him. The crack had been loud and the pain in his body increased with every move.
The broken rib shifted as he stood up, earning a low cry of pain. He steadied himself, momentarily abandoning the violin and struggled towards the nearest tree. Damn it.
Black spots danced in front of his eyes. He leaned heavily on the tree, waiting for the nausea to leave. His whole being shivered, cold and sore. He let out a low breath, hissing as his rib cage expanded. He pushed himself off the bark and slowly walked, trying hard not to let the damaged rib move.
"Erik."
He coughed.
"Erik."
Dizzily, he turned his head. Gustave was standing in front of him, out of breath, and eyes wide with horror. The man was wearing no coat and a pile of crimson was spreading on his hair.
"M. Daae? What-"
"They came." Gustave wiped his eyes. "Knocked me out. Kristine-"
He cried out in desperation, kicking the snow beneath him. Gustave looked on the verge of weeping yet again. Erik blinked away the blurs of darkness, feeling a strange fear claw at him.
"Help me," Gustave begged, "Erik, please!"
"I will."
Erik paid Gustave no more attention as he limped ahead, his body protesting every action with shivers and pain.
And that's all for now. Thanks for reading and feel free to review (liked it? hated it? really hated it?)!
Poor Adam's just such an angsty character- he's got enough angst to out-brood Erik. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed angsty!Adam and wounded!sick!Erik. Next time, the cult makes its move on Kristine, bad things happen to people, some mysteries are solved, and Erik bites off a bit more than he can chew.