Hopeful Soul: A Phantom Story

Chapter Thirty-One.

CHRISTINE:

Erik - behind all that pain and without his villainous ways - was the greatest person I ever knew. He is a genius, a musician and, according to Nadir, he was also talented at ventriloquism and... magic. I did not understand what 'dark magic' was, nor did I want to know. At the moment, Erik needed my care and care was what I would give.

He fell asleep in my arms as we were on the floor and I knew I should put him somewhere comfortable. I would not be able to take him to the bed in the mauve room, so I grabbed his arms and put him on the loveseat. For a very skinny man, he was much heavier than I thought he'd be and as he slept, he looked peaceful. He had not a smile, nor a frown, but that look of pure innocence which death gave a waiting corpse.

I touched his head, brushing through the thin, messy black locks with my fingertips. The smell of him was intoxicating and I felt completely improper touching him so delicately. As I knelt beside him, on the ground next the loveseat, I took in his peaceful nature with question. He had cracked something, I heard that clearly enough, so how on Earth was he sleeping comfortably? Not only did something crack, but his hands, those amazing hands of a rather talented musician, were damaged and it looked as if he had done this twice with how red they were - but how?

I grazed my fingers, now, over his alabaster toned skin and came to the realization that his face became almost nothing to look at. Yes, it was still a sight to behold, even as he slept, but I became used to looking at his lack of nose, eyes that sunk into his head and glowed when open, and, of course, the raw spots on his hollowed cheeks. He looked like a corpse, but that became an almost nonexistent feature to me, especially when thinking of his many talents.

When I focused on him again, I found those glowing, golden eyes and almost jumped at the sight - they were a colour I still needed to get used to, "Hello, Erik," I whispered, resting my head on his chest to hear a steady heartbeat.

"You are real," he said this like a child, caressing my head, "Erik thought he was surely dreaming, but here Christine lies on his chest."

I raised my head and pressed my lips to his hollow cheek. He smiled and wrapped his slender arms around my shoulders - the smell of possibly a few days without bath being prominent, "We should get you clean," I stood from the ground and helped him up to hear even more cracks - it all came from his back, "Oh dear, you sound awful," I held him close as we went towards the bath and he grabbed my hand with as little strength as he had left, "Does it hurt much? Does anything hurt much?"

He like a rock over my shoulder - heavy to me, but so light and fragile that I must be careful. Erik sighed at the question, "Erik is always in pain, Christine. He is used to it."

I gently sat him on the toilet and began to run hot water into the tub. It was amazing to me how he set up the system, "Will you be able to..." I blushed at what I was about to say, biting the inside of my cheek nervously, "Will you be able to undress and get in?"

He became just as red as I did, his arms resting on his lap as he folded forward. I didn't want to humiliate Erik, but his poor hands needed a rest, "Keep the trousers on. I shall do that part. As for turning off the water and my other... garments, I suppose I could use help."

This would be very new for me and I felt relieved no one would know I was doing this - I'd be deemed a burden of a female if anyone besides Erik knew. I turned the water off after the tub was full, then went to complete the part that made me blush. Blood stained his shirt and it was shredded in various places - I assumed he wouldn't want it anymore and slowly unbuttoned it. He was very bony and I could visibly see each rib on his chest, then noticing the pink scars going wildly all over him - what horrors had he seen?

I sat in front of him and began to untie his boots, looking up to see him blushing deep red. He was nervous as well, but I wouldn't be seeing anything special, thankfully. He looked away from me and began to take off the cloths I had used for his hands. Perhaps he had bandages somewhere for things like this. I took off each of his boots and set them beside the bathroom door, removing his socks as well. His feet were thinner than his fingers and that was definitely something to worry about - how was this poor man getting about comfortably?

"I have Persian house shoes in my room. Would you mind getting those along with a fresh set of clothing?"

"Not at all."

I was slightly frightened of his room, but all that aside, I had no idea how to navigate his wardrobe. I opened a black door and, indeed, his wardrobe was there. I picked out a soft, white shirt, along with fitted trousers and breeches, and set them aside, looking down. Sure enough, there were the Persian house shoes - right beside his dress shoes - and I brought the outfit with me to the bathroom. Erik stood beside the tub, with a towel wrapped around his waist, and glanced at the clothes in my hand, "Thank you, my dear."

"You are very welcome."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek before closing the door and setting out around his home. The blood should definitely be cleaned up, but it was a task that might have to wait for later. I went into the small kitchen to find Erik something to eat, but there was practically nothing - one potato, a slice of bread which looked rather questionable and a moldy hunk of cheese. His feline companion rubbed up against my leg for the first time and I smiled, stroking her little, grey head. She must have known Erik was closer to me know and purred at my touch.

I heard knocking at the door and rushed to open it - Nadir stood just behind with a large bag in his hands, "Oh. Hello, Monsieur," I smiled.

"Christine," he nodded, handing me the bag, "there's enough for three meals, quite a few snacks and anti-germ for Erik's hands."

"You are a life-saver, Monsieur. Thank you."

"Only helping a friend. Have a good evening, Mademoiselle."

"You as well."

I took the bag into the kitchen and went through the contents; three kinds of fresh cheese, bread, butter, crackers, potatoes, tomatoes, garlic, onion, oregano and the anti-germ fluid Nadir spoke of - which I slipped into the folds of my gown. I had an idea and checked the cabinet above my head, pulling out a pan. After rinsing and dicing the potatoes and crumbling bread and cheese, I buttered them. With the topping on, I set the fire on the oven and let it rest.

I heard a groan from the bath and rushed to the door, "Erik? Are you well?"

There was no answer and I became slightly worried. I heard the plug come out of the bath and felt a little more comfortable, taking a seat at the dining table. The door opened and he shuffled over to the table, resting two rolls of bandage on the table and sitting across from me, his arms stretched out, "I know Nadir gave you healing fluid. I made it a while ago and gave it to him."

With a tilt of my head, I opened the bottle of fluid and poured some on his left hand. He closed his eyes and I began wrapping that same hand, "You know how to make medicine?"

"There are many things you don't know about me Christine. The fact I am a healer is only one."

How many talents did this man possess? It seemed, from a point of view as young as mine, that he was unearthly. He had just about every talent anyone could want to possess and many men would have been jealous of him - if it weren't for his face. I smiled at him for a moment and began to care for his other hand. He opened his eyes just as I finished wrapping the other hand and we had a moment of silence, looking into each others eyes. His eyes changed from the cold yellow to a warm, golden color that gave me smile.

Erik. Just to think and say his name was enough to make me smile... Erik.