Yellow

Chapter Four

For, Erik has many, many plans for you, monsieur Raoul, and most of them are not savory at all. In the past Erik would design unique tortures for criminals in Persia, for the Persian government. Heed the advice of an old, experienced woman who has lived with Erik for many, many years...let. Penny. Go.

I do not want to see your body in a casket, monsieur, for; that is where you will end up poking and prodding at monsieur Erik.

Sincerely,

   --Mrs. Valorous.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, jumping from my seat as Philippe let the remanence of the tickets drop into the bin.

 Over what? A woman! There are plenty more out there, Raoul!"

Philippe growled, dragging me out of the train station, I ripped my arm from him and we both stared at each other for a moment. "There are none like her, Philippe." I paused and walked to the carriage "your attitude towards women is probably why you never married" I hissed, adding insult to injury.  

"At least I'll die for someone I love! At least I'll stand up for what I believe in, Philippe! At least I will not quit!" I yelled back, feeling my teeth smash together and my cheeks turning a red color. I slammed the carriage door shut and punched the roof of the carriage three times, ordering the cabbie to take me to my home.

Leaving Philippe standing before the train station.

* I sat at the bar we had in the library, staring out of the window. I had just swallowed my eighth glass of scotch and I started feeling the first signs of drunkenness. I  looked over the letter Mrs. Valorous had written me at least one hundred times! I had practically memorized it by now! And Philippe still wasn't here.

He was probably doing the same thing I was.

 Drinking.

It was a habit of the de Chagny men. Every man in my family was, in some way, addicted to alcohol. Excluding me, but, I am building up a taste for it in these strange days. I sighed and poured my ninth drink, missing the cup at first and feeling a rush of cold scotch down my arm. I wondered if Erik liked to drink....maybe I could invite him over...wait a moment, what the hell was I thinking?

Invite my enemy over for a drink?

I was drunk!

After that minute of sober realization, I took another sip of my ninth drink, slipping back into quiet intoxication. In those brainless moments I realized why my angel loved monsieur Erik so, it had nothing to do with quality, monsieur Erik was dangerous, protective, mysterious, (and to her) sweet. That's what my angel wanted. A tall-dark-and-handsome man, and monsieur Erik certainly surpassed all of those specifications. My angel didn't want a puny man, she wanted a strong man who could protect her, she didn't want a wealthy Viscount, she wanted a decent man with a decent amount of money and a decent home.

After all, she didn't come from money anyways.

She wasn't looking for any man like me, she wanted a man like monsieur Erik...and she found him. Perhaps I should heed Philippe and Mrs. Valorous's advice...perhaps... 

No! Raoul, what are you thinking? You love Penny! You can't give up on her like that! You can't give up on her that easily, not that easily, Raoul, are you sure you even love her?

Of course, I love her! I want to show her everything! I want to give her every jewel in the world! I want to see her sparkle when I hold her tightly, I want she to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night! She will be mine...oh yes, she will be--

Interrupting my mental rant was a gun shot. I glanced down at myself to see that my glass of scotch shattered in my hand, glass and the alcoholic liquid lay on my legs. It took me a few moments to realize what was going on.

I was being shot at!

I got up as fast as I drunkenly could and 'ran' to the library door, bullets whizzing by my head as I did so. I slammed the doors shut to the library and ran up the stairs to my bedroom, locking my door behind me. I slid to the floor and breathed, the world was swirling around me and I couldn't tell which way was straight, so I simply sat against the door, breathing heavily. I knew that was monsieur Erik or someone monsieur Erik sent, I was too in this war to back out now...

We were past the point of no return.

Now, underneath the door was slid an envelope, I opened it to reveal a letter written by the one and only monsieur Erik. It ran thus:

Dearest Monsieur Viscount,

     This means you have survived round four, I applaud you (round three was the train station). Then again, you're only alive, because I want you alive. I could have killed you several times now, especially in your sleep. I could've killed you when you were staring out of the window, a bullet through your brain, monsieur Viscount. But, I'm feeling quite charitable to-day, so, I did not.

       I advice that four scotches is a good number to stop drinking at. Nine simply ruins the senses. The Count Philippe, however, prefers vodka to scotch or whiskey, he drank almost fifteen glasses at the pub down the road. I would favor a methamphetamine or hookah to a drink, but, if I must choose, I would say my choice would be a cognac or brandy. Tut, tut monsieur Viscount, tut, tut, leaving your own brother standing alone at a train station?

    Something bad might have happened to him! You are, indeed an uncaring brother, aren't you? Have no fear, your brother, the Count Philippe, is safe and sound at the Hôtel-Dieu. I have no wish to kill him, monsieur Viscount, I have no need to. You, on the other hand, must count yourself lucky that my charity extended to-day whilst the revolver lay in my hand.

     I do not enjoy killing people sneakily, monsieur Viscount, I do not enjoy killing people...not anymore. But, do not mistake, I WILL kill, monsieur Viscount, I will kill for my angel of music, I will kill everyone and anyone who dares mess with her. I may not enjoy it, monsieur Viscount, but I will. When I do kill you, I will kill you in such a way that I will not destroy your pride, it is too cruel to take a man's pride away, I understand that. You will die honorably, monsieur Viscount, and I will kill you swiftly...I do not wish to inflict that much pain, unless you inflict pain upon my angel.

     Good day, monsieur Viscount, I imagine we will be seeing each other quite soon.

      Sincerely,

          -- Erik.

I had to read Erik's letter several times before the words would stop swimming into one another. I closed my eyes afterwards and sighed, I needed to go see Philippe, I needed to get to him. But my body wouldn't allow me to move. It was stupid of me to drink that much, it was stupid of me to leave Philippe before the train station!

It seems all I can make to-day are mistakes.

And now, in consequence to my past stupidity, I received a death letter from the Prince of Death himself. Looking back on it, it is as if I practically begged for the death wish from monsieur Erik. It didn't matter now, the past is the past, and we must deal with what  has happened to us. If monsieur Erik is going to kill me, then I will die as he says.

Honorably.

I would rather die for Penny once than live a million lives with other women! Yes, I will fight...and quite possibly die for Penny. There came a chuckle behind me, a dark chuckle that was muffled by the door, but I still recognized. "It is settled, then" the voice of the Prince of Death said. "Let round five begin"