Author's Note:

Thank you all for being patient, the previous chapter was a bit short, so I decided to submit this rather long one now. This is written in two parts, mainly because they are so distinctive, but they do go together. I really love these chapters; I felt I had to dig deep and be creative. They are my best work to date, I think. Enjoy!

WARNING: Tales of violence and abuse, angst, etc.

Chapt 30 A

Erik awoke stiff, cold and aching, his brain pulverized with what that had transpired over; what was it, a week? A year? He had no grasp of time anymore. By the terrific pain within his stomach at least he knew he had not eaten for days. The screaming of his neglected body was beginning to compete with the all the pain in his head. He rubbed at his eyes and found them nearly crusted closed with salt. He could barely see as he opened the sore windows on the world. He was delirious with thirst, his mouth cracking, sending him into a painful, dry cough.

He was lying in the lee of a large rock, out in the open. His filthy clothes caked with dirt and blood, his skin the same brick color. There was low light…looking up at the clear sky he surmised it must either be morning or evening…he had no idea which nor did he care at that moment. He turned over and felt a square object under him.

He sat up painfully; just moving irritated the festering scrapes that tattooed his skin. He picked up the annoying square object. It was a journal. On the cover was scrawled three large words: READ THIS NOW.

Strange. Why not?

His dirty hands opened the book to the first page:

"You are Erik, safe in Capellen manor. You are recovering. Do not give up. Keep reading."

No, I think I will read later. I need water now or I will die. I just want to stop the pain of this damn thirst and the empty pit I feel in my stomach. I know who I am…on second thought, THAT is the problem, isn't it?

Another voice, a booming staccato burst into his consciousness. That voice came from some where else, deep within.

To deep for right now, you need to be more primal.

He shuddered uncontrollably for a second. The instinctive need for food and water superseded all else, screaming from every part of his tortured body. He did not question the inner voice. He tucked the book under his arm and struggled to his feet as he realized how confused and disoriented he was. Looking around and listening, he heard the sound of running water and felt moisture in the air. He stumbled uphill through the overgrown forest.

Well I am an idiot for being this damn thirsty when water is so near. Recovering from what?

He brushed that thought aside, using all of his functioning brain to maneuver himself around the obstacles in the thick underbrush. He found the source of the sound. Water, the heavenly liquid, was flowing from a spring over and into a wide basin of smooth rocks. He fell, prostrate over the edge of it and stuck his face into the cold water, sucking it in as fast as he could without drowning himself. As the coolness spread within his body, his fogged mind began to clear. He remembered slowly, everything, absolutely everything. Instead of attacking him, his memories just existed, tucked into their own little niches in his mind. He was surprisingly serene as he washed his face and hands in a small basin, down the hill a few steps from the spring. He looked around him; the trees moved in the breeze, the birds sang, the nature music was there as always; it was he that was able to hear again. .

He sat down on a rock lit by the sun and pulled a satchel off his shoulder; a satchel he did not know was there until after he quenched his thirst. He found some hard bread inside it that he began to eat, his body willing to accept any type of nourishment, however stale. In the satchel there also was clean clothing, writing supplies, and bandages.

As he ate, he thought about how he came to be there.

***

He had stayed up thinking after Dr. Dyson left him alone in his room. During the night, he had several epiphanies. He realized that he wanted to stay alive, and even more than that, he needed to open himself to the pain of love again. If he could not do it for himself, he would do it for her. He realized that he loved Elaine so much, that he was willing to put himself through hell for her.

If I want to be with her,to even entertain the possibility, I need to immerse myself in my past. I must find some way to understand all I can about what I have done, and why. Who knows, maybe one day, I can accept myself. When I have figured that out, I will tell her. Then she can make up her own mind, instead of me pushing her away without explanations. We deserve at least that.

Early the next morning, he had packed up supplies in a satchel and a bag with supplies and met with Dr. Dyson, still in his robe, down in his office. The men stared at each other.

"I take you up on your offer, your repayment, whatever you want to call it. I will try my best to piece myself back together. But, I will need a place I could be completely alone, however. The manor house is just a little…distracting."

"You will not regret your decision, Erik." He took Erik's hand in a hearty shake. He then walked to the window and looked out. "Hmm. The river cabin is still a little too close. Ah, I have the place. Come."

They walked out onto the patio overlooking the hayfield. Erik smiled gently as he looked towards the place Elaine and he were together, so intimate. Hope, a faint hope flitted through his mind.

"If you follow the river, down towards the edge of the manor land, there is a small cabin located at about halfway up the hill on the right bank. No one has been there for years. It is an old, sturdy structure, the building is still intact when I rode past there about two months ago. Not filled with conveniences, but at least it is shelter. That is, if you are willing to live with the wild a little."

"I am quite familiar with how to keep myself alive in the woods." Said Erik. "I suspect that I will have quite a bit of work to do, therefore I will be away for quite some time. And please, do not look for me, I need to be alone."

"I need to see you every few days, to make sure you are alive and well. And please, take as much food and supplies as you can. Only then will I not look for you." Dr. Dyson said, seeing the conviction in Erik's gaze.

"Agreed. And thank you for this opportunity. Again, I do not deserve this kindness, Dr. Dyson, but I will try to."

"Good luck, Erik." said Dr. Dyson as he walked out. "You will need it." He said to himself.

***

For several weeks, Erik had been wandering the lands of Capellen, reliving his memories. He often got lost in them, being dragged back into the present by his inner policeman. Each time, he had to struggle to regain sanity. He was vicious with himself, neglecting his most basic needs; the violence he had exhibited externally upon others he had turned against himself, a small bit of payback for his sins.

He wiped at the sweat coming from his head with the back of his hand, bandaged because of his latest episode of self torture. He had repeatedly punched the trunk of a tree in anger until the skin over his knuckles split open. It was to bring his consciousness back into reality from the vision that was keeping him deep within Persia.

Erik begrudgingly had subjected himself to private meetings with Dr. Dyson, fulfilling the agreement they had made. As was his way, Dr. Dyson had dutifully bandaged the latest injury, his busted hands, shaking his head in disapproval at the way Erik was handling his mental recovery. Dr Dyson was aging with each interaction.

To assist with the frequent transitions back to reality, Erik wrote the realizations from his trips in a small journal he took along with him everywhere. He opened the book with some trepidation, and with a heavy sigh, started to read.

"It all came flooding back, everything. Me, all my thoughts, memories, atrocities, passions all came back. The beast within me shrieks with the freedom of release, the vile beast. The human creature within me cringes with the pain of revelation. The fiend I hate, I cannot escape; the evildoer is I. Acceptance of myself is my quest. Along this dangerous path, I run the risk of loosing my sanity, as if I ever had any to begin with. I keep this notebook as a reminder of this trial, as my epitaph if I somehow manage to die, or as an explanation to those who must take care of a man who has lost his mind permanently. The innocent, scarred man that was born in Capellen is no more. I struggle to combine him with my previous incarnations. I do not know if I will succeed."

You did succeed. Well done Erik. The message from his inner voice burned into his mind, then faded, leaving behind silence. Silence was unimaginable sweetness in his tortured mind. No more voices, no more attacks, no more memories thrusting their way into his consciousness. Just silence. The message was from his voice of reason, his inner gatekeeper announcing his release. Erik nodded to himself solemnly, in complete understanding.

He looked back at the book, realizing that his dirty fingers were leaving marks on the pages of the journal. He looked back at the spring, and realized he needed more water than that to cleanse his wounds and the dirt he had let build up on his body. He got up and walked slowly downhill, following the sounds of the flowing river. He was exhausted, and had to stop frequently. Each time he rested he continued to read excerpts from the journal.

"This place, this oasis, this place is a tease of what may have been had God not given me the wretched existence that I had before, had not made my life begin as dreadfully as it was to supposed to end…beginning with the overwhelmed poor soul, my mother. She was not given the ability to bestow the gifts of mercy like the people who grace this little world, this little heaven. This place would have been the place for me. God why did you do that to me, then put me back here to torture me, show me all I could have then take it away with the return of my horrible memories. I should have left them buried like the black, rotting corpse I was meant to be, beaten, robbed back on the road, the dark road, only the stars to show light on my last breath."

Why lord, why? Why do you torture me with seeing the light and leave me to walk in the cold darkness of my soul?

My heart lies heavy within my chest, like a lead burden that makes me drag my feet as I walk through the beautiful forest around me. This beauty is wasted on these despicable eyes. I cannot even bring myself to climb my trees, those of which I am most fond… I am loaded down by the memories of what I was, what I am. The birds beautiful voices hold no pleasure for me now, the lovely music of the river serves only to mark a place in which I could wander in and drown myself, end this tragic horror story that is my life. My body is hungry, thirsty, dirty. Nothing can match the hunger for a sweet life in my gullet, the thirst for love that remains in my aching throat, and the filth that has left a permanent mark on my heart."

Finally, at the base of the mountain, he undressed and walked into the cool running water. The chill woke him up like nothing else could. He dove into the water, every inch of his skin jumping with shock. He swam around, turning and floating, allowing the pleasure of the water supporting his body to calm him. He used the edge of his shirt as a washcloth and roughly scrubbed away at the layers of dirt and grime all over him. His skin bled from various points where had scrubbed off the scabs of his many wounds. When he finished with his skin, he dunked his head and allowed the water to flow through his hair, cleansing it. For minutes at a time he submerged himself, letting the cold water envelope his body completely. It was a strange feeling, like floating in the cold embrace of death, comforting somehow. He pulled himself out of the river, the coolness of his skin being instantly warmed by the now midday sun.

The swim had refreshed him. Since he had no towel, he pulled on some clean trousers and sat on the rocky shore, waiting for his skin to dry. After he did this, he slowly touched his face, letting his fingers become his eyes. He never really had felt his face before. He closed his eyes and moved his fingers first over the left side of his face then the right…his fingers felt the contours of the irregular lines of thickened skin on his cheek, how they distorted his right eye just a little, and tugged his lip just a touch. He felt the smoothness then the irregularity of his scalp, exposed now, and touched the ridges along his cheek, down to his chin. He rested his hand back on his leg.

Only now, so far into my life have I dared to really touch that part of me. Something so arbitrary, so unintentional as this deformity of birth has cost me and innumerable others dearly.

He moved physically and emotionally away from the introspection he was experiencing to grab his book and continued reading. The journal entries were so vivid that he was having difficulty reading them again.

"I am contemptible. I am evil. I became the devil's right hand during all those years. I never had the chance to be good…it was beaten out of me.

Oh Persia. The place where evil ruined my soul. I began to regard human life as nothing, since I felt no real life within me. Misery, despair became something my dark heart devoured…retribution for all of my deep festering wounds, dark pain. Assassin, executioner, torturer call me what you will I was the face of death itself. I built great, evil things. I learned how to be a purveyor of death, efficient and ruthless. I wielded the punjab catgut like a masterful deadly snake. I thought up new and more grotesque ways to erase lives from this earth, to please my employers. Or were they my keepers, the keepers of a deadly beast?"

He jumped ahead in the text, skipping the paragraphs that gave example after example of his ruthlessness. They sickened him now.

The power of death was invigorating…until it became just another routine. I actually enjoyed the fact I was so good at it, before it became tiresome… can you believe it, unexciting? Ending out a man's life I considered just tedious. I should have died before coming to that point. I am least proud of this. My remorse is immeasurable.

But I had to flee, for I knew too much. Evil men do not trust other evil men who know their secrets. I was helped by a man I remember vaguely, a Daroga who I know is of great importance to me, though. I ended up in France where I became involved with the construction of the opera house- I built my domain deep in the catacombs, like a mansion within a tomb, with a coffin as a bed. Madness was definitely already quite apparent. I grew unbearably lonely, even though I enjoyed pretty things, possessions, and music. Music, my only source of pleasure, my only light…my passion took up residence there. The music was me, my soul, the only part of me that was human. It took on the beauty that I could have become…and did become in Capellen.

I had such hope that one day, I would transform into the fleeting thing that is the essence of my compositions, vibrations in the air over time, and leave everything else corporeal behind. That was my only wish for heaven. That is the only thing of any worth in this being I call self. All else is destined for Hades. I built up a specter, a legend in which I basked as a evil dictator, or maybe I was just a mad, dangerous genius hell bent on making others obey me, disobedience being the excuse for my morbid wrath.

I gave love a chance, a chance to rescue me…Christine I loved, I nurtured, holding her desperately against the bosom of the only thing I could, music. She was my most prized, beautiful possession. She was talented and beautiful…another saw that and took her…took her and she went willingly. I could have forced her to stay. I could have forced my darkness and doom on her, but I did not…her outpouring of sacrifice for her lover opened up a trapdoor for them to escape in the form of the last bits of compassion from my miserable heart. My heart ruptured into innumerable pieces. I did everything my wretched heart could to obtain that which I most desired, love and acceptance for who I was…and I stood there betrayed, emotions mangled, and was left utterly alone. I thought I would never love or experience pleasure again.

Ah, but God had his joke to play on this despicable mortal who imagined himself a demigod.

I have seen life in all its glory. The hands of mercy gripped me and pulled my limp body from the grips of death. I was pulled into the light, stripped of my past and innocent like a baby, I grew again. I have felt a sweet blameless love, so sweet the thought now kills me quietly, for I know it is not for me. She was so kind and compassionate. Elaine. Her magnificence abounds, I cry because she saw right past my scars, right past my imperfections. She loved the man I might have been, had my humanity been given half a chance. She drew the best there was out of me, I developed into a true, kind, loving soul in her presence. The man I would have been, but am not now.

This marked the end of the journal's contents thus far. He pulled out his writing supplies to submit his last entry, his heart heavy, yet hopeful.

Now here I am, one person, with the same curse, the same quest for love. Her kisses, so warm, her eyes so inviting her arms so comforting I thought I could melt in them, melt onto her skin and stay there attached to her, to be with her. Her skin, so soft, her body so luscious, such sweetness this mouth, this tongue will never taste again…these hands will never feel again. Her sighs of ecstasy still ring in my head, but it taunts me, I will forever ache for that sound, that divine music. How at that moment I awoke. I long to be with her, to have her in my arms again, share that pleasure with her, love her deeply. I have never been so happy, so alive. I will never be again.

He closed the book with finality and tucked it into the satchel as he put on a clean shirt. It was time to head back into civilization, to head back to the manor, to face the music, so to speak. There would be only so much he would be able to bear telling Elaine, face to face once they were alone together. He meant to give her the journal, so that she could read it and enter into the complicated darkness of his soul. Then she could make up her mind, to see if she could bear to see him, be with him ever again.

He walked along the riverbank, towards the manor house, with great anticipation and foreboding, to the scene of his last stand.

Chap 30B

Elaine walked through the woods that afternoon, not really looking for the one who filled her thoughts, but to try to clear her mind. If perchance he revealed himself, well, that would be fine, too.

In the days that had turned into weeks that had passed, the wound on her arm healed well, but it left an indelible mark on her mind. Erik was capable of such violence, that it made her shake to think about it. She saw evidence of his aggressive nature in the wounds he inflicted upon his ailing body, which she saw when he came to visit her father over the past few weeks. He was trying very hard to push everyone away, her in particular. She always felt him around her though, sometimes feeling his eyes boring into her from the distance. If she was quick and did catch a glimpse of the eyes that had looked upon her with adoration before, all she saw now was sadness.

She paused briefly, leaning on a tree, sorrow radiating through her as she thought of Erik. She sat down at the base of the tree and started to cry. Frustrated tears rolled down her cheeks, as the feeling of emptiness filled her. She missed him. She missed the wonderful, brilliant man that she had gotten to know. He was now in the grips of a monster, the phantom within that was destroying the man she loved.

She knew the love was mutual, she had felt it, deep within her that one beautiful day, when they held each other and bared only a little of the deep longing within their hearts. That day was also the day the storms of his memories came and swept him away from her. She looked up into the treetops, and to the cloudy sky above.

"Erik…" She said, within a painful exhale, just before bursting into tears anew.

***

Erik was in his own world as he walked along the river banks, up into the forest that was separated from the manor house by the hayfield. Looking up, he saw Elaine walking into the woods. He ducked behind a tree as he saw her, making sure she would not see him. He was not ready to see her just yet, however, he was compelled to follow her, keep her beautiful form in his sight.

Erik followed Elaine silently through the forest. He was growing weary of carrying the brick in his chest, lightened just a little by her visage, her presence. During times of lucidity during the past few weeks, he would hide and look at her from a distance, shaking as he saw her move, interact with others and smile. How that smile could warm his heart and dissolve every bone in his body. She had not been smiling much lately. She often paused and looked purposefully around her, wherever she was, as if she knew he was there watching. And he usually was.

He turned away from her walking form and gasped, wiping the sweat coming from his head with the back of his hand. He turned back and searched the wooded landscape for her form again. She was gone. He held his breath and listened intently for any clue as to her presence. He heard it, a sound that poured salt on the wounds of his bleeding heart. She was crying, softly, somewhere. He moved slowly from tree to tree, becoming one with the shadows as was his curse in life.

He froze as he looked around one of those trees. There she was, his angel, the one in sole possession of his heart, her head bent over, the shine of divine fluid from her eyes leaving trails on her soft cheeks.

Why do you cry my Elaine? He thought sadly, holding up his hand, wanting with every bit of his being to wipe away the tears and make her smile again. Then, as if answering him she looked up to the heavens and said his name with sadness on her sweet breath, just before returning to tears.

He dropped down to the ground his heart seizing in his chest, leaning forward with the hurt searing him from within.

It is I. I am causing her this pain. My wretched face remains in her mind. I cannot allow her to hurt any more. I cannot let this go on.

He slowly, noisily walked through the leaves and sticks under him, staring at the ground.

She heard a noise to her left and her heart jumped from her throat as she saw Erik, dressed in dark pants and shirt, hair wet, walking towards her from behind a tree. She jumped up and stepped towards him, halting when he raised his head.

She tried not to cry out with shock as she looked at his face, his cheeks hollowed from lack of sustenance. On the back of his hands were deep wounds. "Oh, Erik…" she gasped gently. It had been a long, difficult trip watching him mired in his insanity.

But his eyes, they were the most painful things to see. They were stony, deeply sad, and piercing. She shuddered with his look. Until minutes before, he had been hopeful, and wanted very much to see Elaine and speak with her. Now, after seeing her crying because of him, he was filled with despair. Surely, it would be best if he left her, and convinced her to let him go.

"What do you see, my angel? There is nothing here worthy of your tears. Forget me, please, I beg you. Obviously, the very thought of me causes your pain. I am just a sinner getting what he deserves. A madman waiting for his turn in Hell. Leave me alone, for that is how I belong." He said, the words stinging her.

"I cannot, Erik." She said, feeling her compassion and love strengthen her from within. "I cannot do the things you ask of me. I will never forget you. I will never leave you alone unless you banish me." She approached him.

He bent over crying, her denial of his wishes ripping into him. He dropped to his knees. Within him, his heart struggled to reach out to her as his mind told him to pull away.

"Why do you push me away, yet again, Erik?" She said, bending down to be close to him. He could smell her, the warm scent filling his nose.

"Because I want the best for you. Which is not me. I am not the man you desire, he is gone, eclipsed by my blackness." His hands were aching just to touch her, just once more.

"Erik, if you don't let me try to help you, whoever you think you are now, I will die of sorrow." She knelt in front of him, timidly

"Your heart is capable of healing without me to trouble your soul, angel. You must try." He bent his head, unable to keep his eyes on her face. So full of love, it was slaughtering him.

She bridged the gap of air between them and wrapped her arms around him, holding her head against his chest. She held on as she felt him try to push her away. She gripped him tightly, as tight as her muscles could. His strength was failing, he was weak physically and mentally. She felt him silently sobbing, his body shaking, his hands covering his face.

"Stop fighting me Erik. I love you dearly. If you feel the same, let me in. If you don't, I will leave you now and never look for you again." Her heart stood still waiting for his response, as she released him just enough to look into his face.

He looked down at her, into her pools of compassion, waiting there for him to drown himself. He did love her. He could not longer resist the comfort she so freely gave, the acceptance he needed, the healing touch she possessed, and the love he wanted.

Slowly, she felt his hands gently touch her hair and stroke her face. He pressed his face into her hair and moved his arms around her. His lips pressed against her forehead as he clung to her tightly. "Elaine," he said, in a barely audible whisper, "I love you."

He had accepted her, finally. She closed her eyes and allowed the tears of happiness to run down her cheek. She leaned forward to kiss him but he stopped her. He put a kiss on both cheeks, then he pulled away from her. He sat back and held her hand with his own. He looked up into her intense, serious stare and in his heart; he knew what he had to do.

I cannot be the one to command, to control our interactions anymore. I am not strong enough to resist her. She must know everything about my past, and then, only then will she know who Erik really is. I must arm her with that knowledge, with the full understanding that she may change her mind about how she feels. She has every right. That thing of which I am most afraid, the loss of her love, I must face.

"Elaine, I will never push you away, ever again." He said, in a low tone. As much as she wanted to sense comfort in his words, she could sense foreboding, and feared his solemn tone. She gently stroked his cheek until his sad, green eyes gazed upon her, strangely distant.

He stood up slowly, and taking her hand, walked with her through the woods, in the direction of the river. She walked behind him, all at once feeling relief and great worry about what was to happen; he looked back at her with a plain expression several times during their walk, once even stopping to gently hold her face in his hand. She reached out to hold him, but he took her hand, kissed it and proceeded down the wooded hillside. She was very confused by his actions.

He seems so much clearer, more focused, but still walking in the depths of sadness, even though I hold his hand and profess my love. He is not letting me to comfort him. Why, dear Erik? His hand holds mine with tender firmness; I can see the depth of his feelings for me in his bottomless gaze.

At that point they had reached the edge of the river, and he helped her to jump lightly onto a large boulder that extended into the river. She stood expectantly in the middle of the rock, looking at Erik as he walked by her to stand and face the fast moving river beneath, his back to her. He was obviously lost in thought as he gazed over the tumbling water.

"What is it Erik? Why do you bring me here?" She said, calmly, in a voice that opened his mind to her.

"I think clearly here." He turned and looked at her, his clothing now dry and moving gently with the mild breeze. She walked up to him, wanting to connect with him. He was avoiding the connection, by keeping her at an arms length. She held his forearms with her hands firmly until he looked up at her.

There is such overwhelming sadness in those eyes.

"Elaine, I will not push you away, but I will not hold you back from taking your leave of me." He said solemnly. She slid her hands down to his and gripped them tightly. He returned the reassuring gesture, keeping his eyes on hers.

"I do not know why you speak in such puzzles. Please, just talk to me, trust me, Erik."

He let go of her hands and motioned for her to sit. She sat down carefully, folding her hands in her lap. Erik stood before her, looking more stunning to her every minute that passed. The wind pushed his hair around his head, as his slender body gracefully moved around her. She took it all in; the strength in his stance, his expression, his mystery.

"Talk I shall, though these lips will speak horrible words, words I wish were not truth. In all honesty, I would rather these truths stay unheard within me to my grave. This will not be easy for you to hear." He said, looking down to the rock, striking the rock gently with his heel.

"Speak, Erik." She said, dread forming in heart. What could he tell me that could be so terrible…

"I have been through very thorny times as of late…"He started.

"Yes, I know, I have been there with you…" Elaine offered, halting her speech as he raised his hand. What he needed to say was obviously difficult, and he wanted to have complete concentration.

"I know, and I thank you, which makes telling you this so difficult." He got up and started to pace back and forth, rubbing his neck with the tension that was building.

"You must understand, I grew up in the face of hatred. I was beaten, ridiculed, and tortured for a good part of my young life. My world was devoid of love, caring, and understanding. My own mother hated me."

Elaine bit her lip, remembering the scars on his body.

"Elaine, I am not proud of many things in my past, but there is one thing that I know you will find most disturbing. I am sorry I have to tell you this, but I believe you should know. I have killed people, many people, Elaine. My first killing I do not regret, it was of a vile man, a pervert who meant to have his way with me when I was a boy. In the beginning, I killed out of necessity, self preservation. But at one point in my life, I was in the employ of the Sultana of Persia. They had requested my presence for my abilities to do masterful tricks, but soon they tired of that, and exploited a more sinister ability of mine." He paused for a second, just to amass enough strength to say it.

"Elaine, I became an executioner, an assassin. I was adept at ending the lives of others, in the most grotesque ways. I built torture chambers, I carried out numerous murders in cold blood for the pleasure and entertainment of others so inclined, and sometimes, for my own vengeance and hatred." He paused to look at Elaine, who was sitting still, barely breathing in shock. "I had to leave Persia quickly, for I the hunter, became the hunted. They tried to assassinate me because I knew too many of their secrets."

"You enjoyed what you were doing?" She asked in a small voice.

"I am mortified to say it, but yes, sometimes." Erik said, crouching down in front of her. His tone was matter of fact. He could not look into her eyes.

"After you left there, that ended, right?" Elaine was struggling to understand it. She could accept killing in times of war, and killing in the context of being assigned to do so. But to kill for pleasure, that was too difficult to comprehend.

"No, I am afraid not." He said, looking away from her, down at his feet near the edge of the stone. The whitewater and rocks below him were looking inviting. "I have killed since then. During my latest exploit, I still do not know how many perished. I was the one who set the Paris Opera house on fire. I did that just days before I ended up here, with you."

"I believe there was only one casualty." She said, numb with disbelief. She had heard of the opera house fire, from Angelique.

"One too many. There have been too many, Elaine. My remorse is endless." He turned and placed the journal at her feet

"Now here I am, one person again. I give you this, Elaine. It is the story of my life, my thoughts, so that you may know me, completely, the horrible things in my past laid out for you to examine. I can only hope you will be able to consider me human again, after reading this."

Elaine's head was spinning. She picked up the little leather bound book in her trembling hands. She tried to look at him, but could not.

"Elaine, I am sorry." She heard him say. She looked up suddenly into his eyes. She still saw the man she loved, but he was covered in several shades of black.

"I…I have to go." She stammered, walking off the rock and into the woods, eventually running. His words, his horrible words ate into her. I have killed many people…

She found herself running into the woods, crying deep sobs, tears running down her face.

My Erik, a murderer. He killed the last time just a short while ago, for vengeance.

She could not accept that truth just yet. She leaned against a tree, covering her face with her arms. She heard the faint gentle rustling of the underbrush being disturbed grow louder behind her. Erik was following her slowly. She heard him stop some distance away from her. It was irritatingly quiet in the woods at that moment. She pulled herself together and pushed back away from the tree, still unable to turn and face him.

"No one, not you or God can change what you have done in the past Erik. I…I just need a little space right now. What you have told me… Oh, God…" she said as tears again fell from her eyes. She leaned and put her head against the tree…she had to ask him; she needed to know. She could not believe she was going to ask him, her Erik, this terrible thing. She could not believe that she even considered it a possibility.

"Have you…ever raped anyone?" His heart was torn from his chest with the question. With those few words, he was thrust into the center of hell. She practically heard his heart break behind her. Her head turned to face him…the disappointment in his face was immeasurable.

"No. Never." He said. She heard every ounce of the pain in his voice, soft in volume but low and rumbling. "Goodbye, Elaine." He said, turning and walking towards the manor house.

"Wait, Erik wait…" She said, barely able to hold in her sobs as her turned back to look at her. "I just need some time, alright?" She looked intensely at his eyes, his body.

He just turned away and continued to walk quickly up the hill. He walked past the manor house to the stable. He grabbed a coat off a hook, saddled up Caesar and rode off without another word. Elaine arrived at the manor house just in time to see Erik on his horse fly through the large iron gates of Capellen.