Twisted Every Way(Phantom Of The Opera Fic)

Chapter 12: Raoul

Gustave sat paralyzed in his solitude, away from his father and mother, away from the Persian.

"Erik!" He heard his mothers voice plea, "Erik my god don't bring him here. He'll kill you. He'll hunt us forever, he won't let us go."

"Look after her Nadir." Came his father's straightforward reply.

Then Erik slipped silently into the shadows. His wife collapsed into her chair, inconsolable with grief.

Erik had never run faster in his life, level by level he flew, his feet lifted from the ground, soaring, flying as his shoes slapped against the floor.

Through the dark halls, past the cobwebs and dripping sewers he climbed. Reaching the darkest alley, he mounted his prized white horse. In a flash, he swung his legs around his sturdy beasts wide frame and kicked it onward.

The horseshoes sparked and clashed like thunder against the cobblestone, picking up momentum and speed.

He ran in the shadows of the Paris streets, nearly killing several pedestrians.

"There goes the ghost!" Some children screamed, "He's hunting someone t'night!"

Little did they know, the Ghost was the hunted. Hunted by his past, his future and time itself.

Time which Gustave was losing quickly.

Erik dismounted his horse and called out frantically.

"Vicomte Dechangy!" He shouted at the top of his lungs as his strong hands banged loudly on the towering cedar door.

Erik watched as a light was lit and servants watched from the windows at the ghost they percieved outside.

"Dechangy!" Erik yelled, "Come on out of there you coward."

Raoul unbolted the door, he stood below the anger of his nemisis by several inches. Erik was dressed bodly in fine suit, making Roaul contious of his own tattered clothes.

"Erik!" Raoul gaped in shock. "I thought-"

Erik looked up and down the quiet street impatiently. "Silence. I come not to quarrel."

Raoul nodded, a defeated man. He had lost everything, except a special share of Christines money and his quick witted mind.

"Come in," Raoul muttered nervously glancing down the empty streets, "The night Watch will be by in 5 minuets time."

Raoul shouted for his srvants to stay aback, not to show their faces or they would be let go.

Raould face contorted in pale worry, "What's wrong. Has something happened to Chrstine?"

Erik took him by the shoulders and soberness slapped Raoul awake.

"Good God man what's happened that you fear so?!" Raoul marveled. "Has Christine fallen ill? Is she with child? Has a child fallen ill?"

Here bitterness and hate slipped into Raouls voice, the resentment of his loss evident on his face.

Eriks eyes burned violently, two blackened glowing embers of threatening impending harm.

Calmly and directly he relayed his plea.

"Gustave is gravely ill. Your son, without proper attention, is going to die."

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Gustave had only eaten a few of the meals they had left beside his bed.

The fever had taken ahold of his mind, a never ending abyss of worrying seized him, about Raoul, about Erik, about mother.

And every time he thought of her a deep sense of anger and pain surged.

Over the few days, Gustave had formulated some ideas. And most of them cultivated his hatred of Raoul even deeper within his heart.

For He was the one to cause his mother and him so much pain. All those times he... That was something he couldn't think of any longer. He couldn't bear it.

The discipline that he could still feel in his bones, the outcries of mother pleaing for his mercy.

Raoul, he determined in his dernaged state, was also the one to blame for his Mothers injurys.

If Raoul had been responisble and accountable for once in his life he would have watched his son until his mother could come to collect him after she was done singing.

Then Meg Giry wouldn't have gotten him onto that cursed dock in the first place.

It would have been mother, father, and him.

They would've been happy.

But disaster rarley lets us have our way.

Gustaves thoughts were interrupted by his mother coming into his room.

"Gustave, you must eat," She pleaded, sadness in every corner of eyes.

The pain that Raoul had caused his family made the rage and hate surge even more powerfully.

He recognized it now. The same pain was engrained in Eriks eyes.

Even though Raoul's hands held no blood, Gustave was beginning in his madness to understand.

Raoul had killed many a man with hate.

Christine was increasingly worried, Gustave was becoming more and more like Erik, Erik before she had tamed him. Erik when his depressions and emotions lost control.

But her son wasnt aware of his suffering, sickness had brought out his fathers worst in him. Her Gustave, she had faith, still remained inside.

It hurt her so to see him having to struggle with things no child should ever have to struggle through.

Slowly, Christine set down the food on the small table and pleaded him to eat.

The look of contemplation, sadness and hate, crossed his face. She hoped that I hadn't done anything.

"Gustave? What's wrong?!" She asked frantically.

He mumbled an answer, twisting and contorting under the pain and that of the fever.

"What is it Gustave?" She lamanted, so desperately wanting to know what was on the boy's mind.

"I'm going to kill him," Gustave said looking up, his eyes burning in a flame if angry rage. 

Too much like Erik, Christine thought in fear, so much passion. 

"I'm going to kill Raoul, and make him pay for all of our pain." Gustave said closing his eyes. "I'll do what I must."