I sadly don't own the Phantom or any other characters created by G. Leroux, S. Kay and A. L. Webber, but they always have a place in my heart. Thanks Luthien Saralonde for doing such a thorough job every time!
ERIK'S REVENGE
During the ride to the hospital, the sky began turning from dark blue to grey; dawn was approaching.
Raoul used the carriage ride for a short nap, but Erik's nerves were too strung to make it possible for him to fall asleep.
Instead, he thought about everything he would like to do to Clara, and what Joséphine would say about it. Inwardly, he was glad that the Vicomte had insisted on accompanying him; his presence would help him to keep his temper. Slowly, a plan started to form in his head.
When the carriage halted in front of the gates, Raoul jerked awake. Rubbing his eyes to clear his head from sleep, he looked at Erik expectantly.
"Are you taking this," he motioned towards the bag Erik had brought with him, "inside?"
Erik shook his head. "Give me a moment." He opened the bag and took the cape out, folded it and hid it under his vest. He made it look as if he had grown a belly. The dagger went into his boot, the mask of the Red Death into one of the many inside pockets of the cape he wore.
When Erik took out the small object that had piqued Raoul's curiosity earlier, he spoke up. "What's that?"
Erik fiddled with the object before tucking it into the pocket of his trousers. "It helps me change my voice without straining my throat too much. I acquired it in Persia," he informed the man sitting across from him.
His hold tight on the wooden case that contained the black painted mask concealed in the folds of his cape, he and Raoul stepped out of the carriage, paid the driver and passed the front gate to the hospital. In the dim light of early morning, they followed the signs towards the reception area.
The maison municipale de la santé, or maison Dubois, as it was called after the doctor that had built a surgery facility there, was situated in the Rue du Faubourg-Saint-Denis. It had been built between 1853 and 1858 by Thédore Labrouste, who was the main architect of the Parisian hospitals under the prefect Georges-Eugène Haussmann.
It consisted of two complexes grouped around rectangular courts. To avoid spreading infections, the buildings were separated from each other. In all, the hospital could shelter around three hundred patients.
Erik and Raoul headed towards the first court, where the administrative buildings were situated. Passing through the front door, they approached a small desk, where an elderly man in a greyish guard uniform was seated with his eyes closed, clearly asleep. Raoul cleared his throat, alerting the man to their presence. The guard jerked awake, alarmed at having been caught sleeping during duty. When he saw the two noble men nearing, he jumped up from the chair and tried to flatten his worn-down uniform to make himself more presentable.
"Can…can I help you, Messieurs?" he asked them, trying in vain to sound authoritarian.
Erik wanted to answer, but Raoul stepped forward. "Yes, I think you can." He took out a card and handed it the guard, whose eyes widened at the sight of the crest on it. "I am the Vicomte de Chagny. Some of my guests were taken here after an incident at my home and I would like to check on their condition."
"Yes, yes of course, Monsieur, I'll call for the doctor immediately," the man replied, almost bowing before the aristocrat. He turned and ran off a corridor to the left, only to return a moment later with a grim looking doctor in tow.
"Well, that was fast," Raoul commented to Erik as they approached them.
"What can I do for you this early, Messieurs?" the doctor, a man in his fifties with neatly trimmed, friendly mutton chops demanded.
"I am the Vicomte de Chagny," Raoul repeated. "At a ball in my home some guests ingested a poisoned punch and were taken here. I wanted to know if they will be all right."
"There are strict visiting hours, Monsieur le Vicomte, you will have to wait until it is permitted," the doctor said sternly.
"Please doctor, it is very important." Raoul took a glance at Erik, who gave him a nod to continue. "We just found out that the mother-in-law of my friend here," he motioned towards Erik, "was admitted here. We have been looking all over for her. You see, her daughter ingested a lot of the poison as well and their doctor is not sure if she is going to make it."
"If she is that sick, why has she not been taken here?" the doctor asked suspiciously.
Before Raoul could answer, Erik spoke up. "My wife just recovered from a severe illness, so we have a private physician available at all times. He is quite competent," he added.
The doctor looked at him sharply, clearly not liking Erik's tone.
Raoul stepped in to ease the mounting tension, giving the doctor a pleading look. "We just want to make sure that her mother will be all right. And if not, let my friend say goodbye to a member of his family before it is too late."
Erik saw the doctor's resistance weaken and had to suppress a smile. 'God, his puppy eyes could melt a heart of stone,' he thought bemusedly.
"What is the name of your mother-in-law, Monsieur?" the doctor asked finally.
"Clara Marquise d'Escayrac," Erik replied.
"Oh yes, the Marquise. She is suffering from a minor poisoning, and should recover soon," the doctor assured them. "Please follow me."
The three men left the building and walked across the court to the hospital complex. Raoul asked about the conditions of the other patients, while Erik trailed silently along behind them.
Clara's room was on the second floor in the poison ward. As a woman of high nobility, she had a room of her own. The curtains were half open, but most of the room was still dark. The doctor lit a gas lamp near the bed and checked her vital signs. Clara was half asleep, tossing in the bed and whimpering. Erik had to restrain himself from not speeding over to the bed and beating her senseless.
"Her symptoms are almost gone, but the strain on her body to cope with the poison made her fall asleep. If you talk to her, she should regain consciousness though," the doctor explained.
"Could you give us a moment, Monsieur?" Raoul asked him.
"Of course, I will be down the corridor." That said, he left, leaving the two men alone with Clara.
Erik stepped closer to the bed, looking down at the woman who had brought Joséphine so much pain and sorrow. Her skin was pale and covered with perspiration, her eyes were moving rapidly behind her eyelids. She looked so fragile, lying there, he could simply…
Raoul's hand on his arm brought him back to the present. His hand was almost closing around her throat and he hadn't even noticed it. Erik took a deep breath, calming down. He let go of Clara and walked towards the darkest corner on the opposite site of the room. Raoul looked at him expectantly, staying close to the bed, observing Clara's reaction to whatever Erik was going to do.
Erik opened the wooden case and replaced the flesh-coloured mask with the black one, then covered himself with the all black cape to further disappear into the darkness.
When she gets too distressed, call the doctor," Erik said before he began. Raoul nodded, not knowing what was going to happen.
"I am very angry with you, Clara," Erik began. Raoul was startled, Erik's voice no longer sounded like his own, gone was the smooth timbre he had come to associate with him, it sounded raspy and stressed instead. Looking down at Clara, he saw that she was slowly waking up.
"Do you hate me so much that you had to take out your anger on my daughter?" Erik continued, the voice echoing in the room, making it sound otherworldly.
Clara had drifted totally awake by now and was trying to adjust to the semidarkness. Her eyes fell on the Vicomte. "What is going on?"
"You drank some poisoned punch at my ball. Apparently some of my servants were discontent with the social rise of my wife," Raoul told her smoothly.
"No, I mean, did you hear that?"
"You are the only one that can hear me, Clara," Erik chipped in.
Clara started looking around the room, but Erik was too deeply hidden in the shadows for her to see him. Her eyes darted back to Raoul, who seemed to be unfazed. "Did you not hear him?"
"Hear who?" Raoul asked her gently. He knew that they were playing a dangerous game, but he tried his best to play along. This woman deserved to be punished.
Her eyes swept the room once more, but she found nothing and nobody. She calmed back down. "I must still suffer from the poisoning, I guess. I just thought…"
"Believe me, the effects of the poisoning are your smallest problem right now, my murderous wife!"
"Stanislas!" Clara cried out, her eyes darting around frantically. Her fingers gripped the covers in a vice like grasp.
Raoul leaned over, a concerned look on his face. Erik was impressed, he played his role really well. "Are you all right, Madame?" Raoul asked.
Clara looked at him, distressed. "I…"
"You will never be all right again," Erik interrupted her, his tone menacing. "You will pay for what you did to my daughter!"
"Joséphine? I swear I did not…"
"Did not what? Mean to make her life miserable? Mean to take away her chance of luck? Mean to kill her?" Erik barked. He was getting more furious every minute.
"She's dead? Really?" Clara tried to hide her satisfaction at this news, but was failing miserably. Raoul was appalled. How could this woman be so heartless?
Erik took out the Persian voice distorting device and held it close to his throat. "Why did you kill me, Clara? What did I ever do to you?" he asked, imitating his wife's voice.
Clara paled. "Jo…Joséphine?" she choked out. Even Raoul was surprised by the resemblance of the voice, but he hid it well and did as if he had not heard a thing.
"What about her?" he asked her innocently.
Clara had broken out a sweat, and was searching the room. "She's here!"
"You must be mistaken, Madame. As far as I know, your daughter was brought back to your home after she fainted at the ball."
"But I…"
"He cannot hear me, mother," 'Joséphine' spat. "I swear you will never have a moment of peace again."
"Why are you doing this?" Clara asked meekly, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Erik's sole reply was a mad laugh that even chilled Raoul to the bone. When Clara looked ready to faint from stress and fear, Raoul spoke up. "Madame, let me get you a doctor, you are clearly not feeling very well."
"No! Don't leave me alone with them!" Clara cried, grasping the Vicomte's arm, who jerked away, walking towards the door.
"There is no one here besides you and me," Raoul said once more, before leaving the room.
"They won't be able to help you," 'Joséphine' continued. "This will be your punishment, to be haunted by us as long as you live."
Erik let the device drop in his hands and continued in the imitation of Stanislas' voice. "Unless…"
"What? Tell me! I will do anything," she sobbed.
"You will confess what you did to Joséphine, then maybe we will leave you alone," 'Stanislas' said flatly.
"No, I can't! They will send me to jail!" Clara replied, shocked. "You cannot do this!"
"Believe me, I am just getting warmed up." Quickly, Erik replaced the black mask with the one of the Red Death and stepped a bit more into the light. He continued in Stanislas' voice, no longer letting it echo in the room, but giving away his location. "My daughter is always true to her word, you should know that."
Clara turned into the direction the disembodied voice had come from and jerked back. Death was staring straight at her.
Raoul chose that moment to re-enter the room. Luckily for both men, Clara was looking at Erik and missed the look of surprise that fleetingly crossed Raoul's features, but he got himself swiftly back under control. When he was close to the bed, Clara turned to him, pointing back at the mask.
"D…don't…don't you see that?" she pleaded with him.
Raoul let his eyes sweep over the direction she pointed to, his eyes not resting on Erik. "There is nothing Madame. You need to rest, the doctor will be here in a minute."
Hearing this, Erik slowly withdrew and returned into the dark corner. Using the Persian device once more he threatened her one more time. "Confess, or you will soon wish the poison had killed you too."
"I…"
The doctor came in, followed by a nurse. Unseen, Erik walked to the door and slipped out.
In the corridor, he swiftly slipped of the mask and replaced it with the flesh-coloured one. He leant against the wall, breathing heavily. Erik hoped that he had scared her enough to make her confess, or else he would have to continue his 'haunting'. He changed back into his original cape and slipped back into the room, but stayed close to the door, unnoticed.
Clara was shaking from head to toe, muttering incoherently. The doctor turned to Raoul. "What happened? She was fine the last time we checked on her."
Raoul rubbed his face, hoping sincerely he sounded convincing. "I don't know. She woke up and started to talk about hearing voices. Can it be a side effect from the poisoning?"
The doctor pondered a minute before answering. "Actually, no. If she was feverish, maybe, but she was recovering nicely."
"So, why is she saying that she is hearing voices then?" Raoul asked nonchalantly.
"I don't know. Did she specify what kind of voices?" The doctor asked, walking over to the bed, where the nurse tried in vain to calm the patient down. "Whose voices did you hear, Madame?" he addressed Clara, his tone clinical.
Clara was hysterical, no longer noticing who exactly spoke to her. Tears were constantly rolling down her cheeks, which were blotchy and red from the agitated state she was in. "Make them go away," she muttered repeatedly.
The doctor looked back to Raoul, then noticed Erik standing by the door. "You are her relative, try to speak to her, maybe she will calm down if she hears a familiar voice."
Slowly, Erik stepped closer, carefully schooling his features. He leaned over the bed and gazed down at Clara, only his eyes betraying the hatred he felt for the woman. "Clara, can you hear me?" he said, pretending for the doctor to sound soothing.
Clara's eyes shot wildly around, her only reaction continuing to fight off the nurse who held her down. The doctor stepped in and helped still Clara.
"Clara, I want you to listen to me very carefully," Erik continued, leaning even closer until his lips almost touched her ear. "You are sick, and you need help." Inaudible for anyone but Clara to hear, he added in Stanislas' voice, "Confess!"
Clara's eyes fixed on Erik, without really seeing him.
"It's working, she reacts to him," the nurse whispered.
"Everything will be all right," Erik continued in his normal voice, loud enough for all to hear, then, without the distorting device at hand, Erik tried his best to imitate Joséphine's voice and murmured again, "Confess!"
Clara cried out loud and tried to cringe away from him, but was held in place. "Get her away from me, she's going to kill me!"
"Who are you talking about?" the doctor enquired, while Erik straightened up, looking down at Clara in an inquisitive way.
"Joséphine," Clara choked out.
"Her daughter," Raoul explained.
"They are trying to kill me, because I poisoned her," Clara cried, shivering. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed against the sheets, sobbing.
Raoul gasped. "No, it can't be."
The doctor looked at him. "What do you mean?"
Raoul looked at Erik before continuing. "I think it was her that poisoned the punch at my home."
Erik played along and shook his head. "Impossible."
"At the ball, Joséphine told me that her mother was unhappy with the choice of her husband, and that she threatened her on multiple times."
"Is this true?" the doctor asked Erik, who nodded.
"She said that she would anything to bring us apart, but I never thought that she..." he broke off.
The doctor moved back to the bed and shook Clara to get her attention. "Madame, did you hear what has just been said? Did you poison the punch? Your son-in-law tells me that you threatened your daughter."
"Her husband is a monster, did you not see him? She only married him to spite me!" Clara cried out. "They deprived me of my money, it should have been mine, all mine! She deserved to die, and he does too!"
Raoul stepped in just in time to restrain Erik, who looked murderous. Clara had regained some energy and tried to get away from the arms that pinned her down.
"Go get Doctor LeMeur and a sedative," the doctor instructed the nurse, "and send for the police. Messieurs, help me keep her down!"
Raoul moved to help the doctor, while Erik remained frozen in place, observing the scene that unfolded before him. Clara had given in and confessed, faster than he had anticipated. It was almost anticlimactic. Suddenly, he was in a hurry to get to Joséphine. He only hoped she was all right. But surely, had her condition turned for the worse, Nadir would have sent for him.
He stepped up to Raoul. "I need to get back home. I have been away from Joséphine too long already."
"Of course. I will tell the police all they need to know."
Another doctor, followed by two more nurses, came in. He had a syringe in hand and injected Clara with it. She tried to get away, cursing everything and everyone, but slowly succumbed to the medication.
The first doctor approached Erik. "When she wakes up, the police will have some questions for her. Will you stay for the interrogation?"
Erik shook his head. "I need to get back home to my wife, but the Vicomte offered to stay here."
"What will happen to her?" Raoul enquired.
"Well, she is clearly unstable, and if she actually is responsible for the poisoning, she will be sent to the criminal ward of the hospital Salpetriere. If her hallucinations continue, she will stay there, otherwise, she will await trial in prison." He turned to Erik and shook his hand. "Please, let me express my best wishes for your wife. I sincerely hope that she will recover from this ordeal."
Erik said his thanks and made to leave, but was stopped at the door by Raoul. "Do you want me to come by once I am finished here?"
Erik looked at him appraisingly. "No, go home to Christine. I am sure she is already worrying about you. Rest, we will talk later." He squeezed Raoul's shoulder. "I appreciate all that you have done for Joséphine and me tonight. Thank you, Raoul."
The Vicomte actually blushed. "You are welcome." He gave a lopsided smile. "Now, off you go, leave the ghost and be man I now know you can be."
Erik did not have to be told twice.
A/N: The modern name of the maison Dubois is Hospital Ferdinand Widal. It is the anti-poison centre of Paris. I couldn't find out how long this goes back, so I took some liberties with it. The hospital Salpetriere exists as well. During the french Revolution, it was the world's largest hospital, serving also as a prison for prostitutes and 'madwomen'. In the 19th century, it became famous for its phsychiatric centre. Today, it is a reknowned teaching facility. I have no medical expertise at all, so I took some liberties with the doctor's reaction to Clara's hysterics.
I also hid a quote from another Gerry Butler movie, anyone recognizes it? Thanks for reading!