Help Me Say Goodbye Ch. 05

Oct. 26 -- 4:00am

The perimeter alarms blasted through the still morning air jarring the occupants of the house from a contented slumber. Erik, recognizing the potential danger behind the sound, jumped from the bed and ordered Alex to dress. Pulling on his black bodysuit, he looped the Punjab lasso around a spring-release on his belt and strapped his Beretta under his arm. Sliding a couple of knives into their sheaths, he kissed Alex fiercely, bade her to remain in the room until he returned, and then disappeared into the pre-dawn darkness. Unnerved by his hasty departure, Alex slipped on her bra and panties and, after only a second of hesitation, draped Erik's shirt over her shoulders and buttoned the front. She was reaching for her jeans when she heard footsteps in the hallway. She watched in horror as the door swung open and she stared down the barrel of a gun and into the mockingly cruel eyes of Christine Daae.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here: Erik's latest fling." Christine smirked as she looked Alex up and down. "I suppose you were all that was available. He still loves me, you know. You'll never be more to him than a casual fuck."

"Perhaps." Alex clenched her hands so tight she could feel her nails biting into her palms. "But at least I wouldn't slink off to screw in a public bathroom like a common hooker." Christine's slap raised a hand shaped welt on her cheek and cut her lip but Alex simply straightened and smiled. "He will never be yours again even if he never becomes mine. I can accept that, can you?" With a snarl of fury, Christine balled up her fist, stepped forward, and aimed for the partially healed gunshot wound. The searing pain caused Alex to cry out before succumbing to blessed darkness.

Alex awoke to darkness and pain. And motion. Was she being carried? Was she in a vehicle? Erik! What had happened to Erik? She struggled against the agonizing ache in her side and the black spots before her eyes; she had to make sure Erik was alright. When she groaned and attempted to look around, someone nearby spoke quickly to another in an unknown language and then there was a sharp pain to the back of her head and all was darkness again.

With consciousness came the pain once more. Opening her eyes she saw nothing but never-ending darkness; wherever she was had no lights or windows. Desperately trying to stay calm, Alex ran her fingers on the surface upon which she lay. It was hard, cold, damp, and uneven. Cement? A basement or cellar then. Lovely. Feeling around, she found a nearby wall and pushed herself painfully into a sitting position to assess her situation. Her head hurt, her face stung, she could feel blood trickling from the wound in her side, and she was light-headed.

Not good at all.

On top of all of that, she wore only Erik's shirt and the cold was beginning to seep into her bones. Shivering, she started feeling along the wall to find something to get her off the damp floor. Not having much luck and reaching too far, Alex stretched the abused injury sending sharp, intense pain through her body. As if it broke the last of her tenuous courage, she wrapped her arms around her waist and began to sob.

"Alex? Alex, is that you?" The disembodied voice of the detective cut through her pain and she weakly responded. "Allah be praised, you live! I never saw you so feared the worst. Is Erik with you?"

"N...no, he's not. He's not with...with you?" Her voice shook and she tried not to imagine all the things that could have happened to the man she cared so much for.

"Was he with you when you were taken?" Da'ud, ever the policeman, was trying to work out what had happened. Alex was grateful to the darkness as she felt her cheeks burn.

"No," the whisper sounded weak even to her so she cleared her throat and tried again. "No, he'd gone to investigate the alarm. What happened, Da'ud?"

"I'm not sure." She could hear his frustration as well as something else. Had he been injured again? "I was still getting dressed when they broke into my room. I fought as best I could but wasn't able to do much with this blasted leg. Something got me on the back of my head and I woke up here. By my estimate, we've been here for at least twelve hours if not longer."

"So long?" She coughed then whimpered at the pain.

"What about you, Alex?" The detective was concerned at how weak she sounded. "You sound ill."

"I'm just so c...cold. She hit ...hit my side, where I was shot. I...I think it's bleeding again, but can't tell."

"We'll get you to a doctor soon, Alex." The detective's voice was soothing though she could tell he was worried. "I have to ask, though. Before you went unconscious, did you see anything?"

"Ch...Christine," Alex winced as spots began to dance before her eyes. "She burst into the room and we...we had words." God, all she wanted was to sleep the pain away. "I don't know what happened after she arrived; I think one of them hit me on the back of the head because it hurts almost as much as my side. I never saw Erik again, either...he's got to be alright. He just has to...he has to." Whimpering at the pain, she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them. "Please, Da'ud, no matter what happens promise me you'll get him out alive."

"Alex, don't talk like that. We're all going to..."

"Promise me, Detective! Please..." Her voice broke on a sob and had to take several deep breaths to regain enough control to speak. "Please. He...he means so much...everything to me. I won't be responsible for his death. Promise...if there is a choice, if only one of us can survive, you will get Erik out of here."

"Alex, I..." He could hear her weeping and her labored breathing and knew that if she didn't get medical help soon there wouldn't be a choice to make. "Allah have mercy on my soul, I promise." The comforting darkness beckoned and, with a whisper of gratitude on her lips, she took refuge in its welcoming embrace from the fear and the pain.

Oct. 27 -- 12:00am

Erik stood outside the opera house once more, only this time he was entering through the front door. As he'd sped towards the front gate, he'd tuned his radio in to the guards' frequency and called for reports. When only silence met his call, he sacrificed stealth for speed as he made his way towards the gatehouse. Opening the door, it looked like a slaughterhouse. The guards appeared to have put up a fight, probably explaining the alarm, but were overwhelmed and killed messily. The lack of response on the radio was worrisome; surely they couldn't have all been killed? A brief crackle of static was followed by the weak voice of one of the patrolmen on the eastern perimeter.

"Boss..."

"What happened here?" Erik's voice was harsh but he needed information fast.

"Poison darts...never even saw them." The guard was struggling to breathe. "Alarm...a diversion. Go...the house." The radio fell silent as the man fulfilled his duty for the last time.

Letting loose a string of curses, Erik rushed back to the house though deep in his heart he knew it was too late. Bursting through the front door, the silence of the house sat uneasily on his shoulders. Drawing his weapon, he checked the kitchen and Library before moving to Da'ud's bedroom. The detective had struggled against his captors; there were lamps shattered and on the floor and chairs knocked over. He saw no blood, however, which gave him some hope that his friend still lived. Racing up the stairs, he hesitated outside his bedroom door, frightened of what he would find.

Easing the door open with the barrel of the gun, the first thing he saw was the small pool of blood on the floor. Then, as if calling his name, his eyes were drawn to the envelope and white rose on the bed. Christine. His name was written on the front in her recognizable elegant script. When he picked up the envelope, Erik's hands shook. What have they done to Alexandra? He pulled out the card and unfolded it to stare down at an invitation to a masquerade ball at midnight.

You are cordially invited to a Masquerade Ball A special evening of Suspense, Romance, Love and Loss on October 27th Midnight on the main stage of the Opèra Populaire Please arrive unaccompanied as a date will be provided for you. Mask is required.

With so much time to kill, Erik first contacted the Agency to send someone to help with the bodies of the guards. Local police would ask too many questions. He also cashed in some favors and got satellite images faxed to him of both his home and the opera house at the time of the attack. Though unclear, he could make out two bodies being carried out of the house. He only hoped they were merely unconscious. He waited for the agents at the gatehouse and explained what he thought had happened and the clean up crew went to work. Over the next couple of weeks or so, these men would appear in the obituaries having died of everything from food poisoning to car accidents.

At 10:00pm, Erik was sitting a block away and watching the building through a pair of binoculars. It wasn't ideal; he preferred night vision goggles but the street lights rendered them useless. He knew that going into that building was signing his own death warrant but what could he do? Alexandra was merely a pawn in all this and deserved to live the rest of her life in peace. Da'ud, having saved his life from Christine in the past, was now to be repaid in kind. Fitting end for a monster; killed by the very angel he once aspired to attain.

Time passed slowly.

At five minutes to midnight, Erik approached the abandoned opera house. Christine was waiting for him at the door and motioned him inside while she closed and locked the entrance. With a rueful quirk of his lips, he thought of the words to the song he sang to seduce his Alexandra. Past the point of no return...no going back now... How appropriate they seemed now.

Oct. 27 -- 1:00am

Time passed strangely in the dark, cold cell; Erik couldn't be certain if he'd been there hours or days. His arms were stretched above him by shackles that were suspended from the ceiling. His shirt and weapons had long been removed, as well as his belt and shoe laces; anything he could possibly use as a weapon. Since Christine had learned from him, trained with him, she knew where to find even the best concealed weapons. Her lover and master torturer had wanted to leave the mask on the prisoner; however, Christine removed it and showed him the needle-like razor that was skillfully hidden in the lining. For the first time since he'd known her, Erik felt nothing when she shuddered at his unmasked face. She could no longer hold a place in a heart filled with Alexandra's passion and love.

He found it ironic that the moment he had something to live for was when he stood his best chance of dying. He'd known the moment he walked through the opera house doors that he'd not leave unless it was in a body bag. His only regret was not telling Alexandra how much she meant to him. When he closed his eyes, he could block out the pain, the cold and see nothing but her red hair spread in beautiful contrast across his black satin pillowcase. The sting of the whip became her nails as they scraped up his back in ecstasy. The taunting words of his once-angel from having seen those marks faded into Alexandra's pleasure filled moans. Unaware he'd whispered her name; he was jolted back to the present when a bucket of salt water was poured down his back. His memories were replaced by cold, ice blue eyes that hid a demon inside the body of an angel.

"Oh, Erik, you really should get your mind out of your trousers. I'm sure she was a good enough fuck but you know I could please you so much better." Christine trailed her fingers down his bare chest wet with water, sweat, and blood. Leaning forward, she trailed her tongue over a scar to flick one of his nipples hardened by the cold. When his only response was to attempt to dodge her touch, she slapped him hard and growled. "I will have you again, Erik Devereaux. Before this is all over, you will be mine once more."

Hanging loosely from the shackles to preserve his strength, Erik finally focused his gaze on his tormentor and smirked. Letting his golden eyes drift slowly down her body then back again, his face revealed his utter disinterest in anything she had to offer. Watching the fury build in her eyes was worth the crack of the whip across his back. Incensed, Christine grabbed a steel pipe and swung it like a baseball bat right into his stomach. The air exploded from his lungs and a large welt was already rising at the point of impact.

But still, he remained silent.

Holding his gaze with a smirk of her own, his former lover motioned to his tormentor. Immediately, he felt something hot approaching his lacerated skin and braced for the pain. It took all he had not to scream when the red-hot poker was laid flat across his back, cauterizing the whip marks and searing his skin. Only her eager smile stopped the sound in his throat; he'd be damned if he gave her the satisfaction.

"I can see your tolerance for pain hasn't lessened, maestro," Christine purred in his ear. Laying her hand across the whipped and burned flesh on his back, she laid her head on his shoulder like a lover. "I suppose you are trying to be noble. You always were the one hindered by morals." Pulling a remote control from her pocket, she turned on a hidden monitor showing the interior of a pitch black cell. Another button switched the camera to night-vision and, in the shades of green, Erik could make out the shivering form of Alexandra. "She's been ill recently has she not? Official word is the flu but we know better don't we, my love?" Leaning closer until her lips brushed his ear, she whispered softly, "I know who shot your little whore, Erik. If I tell you, will you be a good boy?"

His golden eyes never strayed from the monitor. In some distant part of his brain, he noticed that she was wearing his shirt and thought she looked far better in it than he ever had. From what he could see in the poor quality of the camera, it was all she was wearing and it did little to stave off the cold seeping from the cement floor and into her bones.

Not trusting Christine in the least, Erik nevertheless gritted through his teeth, "Who?"

"Now, now, you know that's not how we play that game." Moving around to stand in front of him once more, she smiled as she grabbed him through his trousers, gripping painfully when he tried to move away.

"What do you want, Ms. Daae?" Erik was thankful for the cold and the pain for he'd never forgive himself if he responded to her unwanted touch. Laughing, she stepped back and began unbuttoning her shirt.

"You know what I want," the shirt was tossed aside followed by her shoes and pants. Standing before him in only her lacy underwear, she slowly advanced on him and pressed her body to his. "You know you want me; you've always wanted me. Forget the whore, Erik, and stay here with me. What was it you said once? Share with me one love, one lifetime? I can't offer you love but I can offer you a lifetime of pleasure."

Staring down at her nearly naked form, Erik felt nothing but disgust. He could tell how aroused she was and he knew it wasn't because of him. Christine had fallen in love with power and that was what had her panting like a dog in heat. "And what of your little boy toy? Won't he object?" He deliberately put all the disdain he felt for the boy in his voice knowing he would hear.

"You mean Raoul?" Her angelic laughter echoed in the hellish room. "Oh no, love. You see, once I have you, I'll give your little whore to him. He's been fascinated by her for a while, you know."

White hot fury exploded in his brain. Holding onto the chains of his shackles, Erik lifted himself up enough to wrap his legs around Christine's lovely neck. Exhausted and in severe pain, Erik still had enough strength left to snap her neck with the proper leverage. Unfortunately, his torturer was still nearby. Suddenly, the biting hooks of a taser sank into his back and the jolts of electricity caused him to loosen his grip enough for her to twist free. Humiliated by his continued rejection, Christine grabbed her clothes and stormed out of the cell. The chuckle from behind him was cold enough to freeze the blood in his veins. As the man began to circle him to plan his next strike, Erik finally saw the one who'd dished out so much pain.

"Raoul de Chagny, I presume?"

Oct. 27 -- 1:00am

It could have been minutes or days when light flooded the room and jolted Alex back to consciousness. Though her pain had lessened, in its place she felt disoriented and like her head was full of cotton balls. As if from a distance, she saw a man open the barred door and pull her to her feet by her hair. She knew there was pain but she seemed apart from it. Alex heard Da'ud's concerned voice and tried to tell him she was alright, that she didn't hurt any more, but that seemed to upset him more instead of comforting him. She was half-dragged up several flights of stairs until she faded out of consciousness and was tossed over a shoulder roughly. When she faded back in, she saw that they were in a large room with lots of seats. Sluggishly, she realized they were standing on a stage of an old decrepit theater. A voice called to her and she frowned. She knew that voice. It was so very beautiful that it surely must belong to an angel. Had she died?

"Angel? Oh Angel, tell Lizzie I'm so sorry." She hardly knew what she was saying in her delirium. "So...so sorry." She swayed on her feet and was steadied with painful fingers in her hair.

xxxxxx

Christine chuckled softly at the pain on Erik's face. So, he does feel something for the little tramp after all. How...delicious. She circled him slowly as he stood before her wearing only the skin tight pants of his body suit. Oh yes, Raoul had some fun with the masked man. New whip scars had been added to the ones he'd received all those many years ago. Ironic that they came from the same man. Even beaten and bloodied he was still an amazing specimen of masculinity if you could ignore that disgusting face of his. She ran her fingertips lightly along his shoulders and back remembering how it felt to be held by him. He was a considerate lover; always putting his partner's needs before his own unlike Raoul who sought his own pleasure and left her panting in frustration. No matter; he was beginning to bore her anyway. But Erik? It sent a chill down her spine to think of all he must have learned in her absence.

"What do you want, Ms. Daae?" Erik ground through clenched teeth never taking his eyes off Alex. What had they done to her? A throaty laugh grated along his spine. He had once loved her laugh but now it was tainted by her betrayal and his growing anger.

"Now, Erik, surely after all we've been to each other you can leave off the formalities?" Stepping so close their bodies were nearly touching, Christine ran her hands down his chest to dip beneath his waist band. "You know what I want," she cooed softly as she stroked him. "You've always known what I wanted." With a growl, he yanked her hands up and away from his body, earning him a snap of a whip across his back from Raoul.

"That, Ms. Daae, is something you will never have again." Erik hissed through his teeth as he wiped his hands down his pants legs as if he'd touched something dirty.

"You think that's so, Monsieur Le Fantôme?" Christine sneered. Stepping off to the side, she motioned for Da'ud and Alex to be brought forward as she took a pistol from Raoul. Removing the magazine, she showed it to him before snapping it back into the weapon.

"This gun has exactly one bullet as you have seen. It is instrumental in a choice you must make, my love." As she handed the weapon to Erik, her smile radiated pure evil and the thrill of the power she held over the lives of these three people. "Choose to walk away and you will be allowed to take but one of these lovely people with you. The other, sadly, must be killed with that weapon and by your hand. If you refuse to make a choice, then they both die and you will know the true meaning of pain. Or...you return to where you belong: by my side, in my bed, and following my orders. You will voluntarily work with and for me, and only me, and your little friends will live. Oh, we'll have to keep them of course; I won't risk losing my collateral. You won't be able to see or talk to them but they will live as long as you hold up your end of the bargain."