Boscherville, France 1840
The night air was filled with the sound of a woman groaning in pain, her swollen belly revealing the cause of her distress.
Madeleine Destler considered herself as a strong woman. Or at least, she tried to be. After all, she has been through it all. Married at the age of 16 to Charles Destler, a stranger and true stone mason, and just when she starts to enjoy having him as a husband, he dies in a building accident and leaves her as a widow with a baby on the way. As you can imagine, such stress would cause one to develop certain unhealthy habits.
To her, the best stress relief came from the neck of a whiskey bottle but when that seemed to not work as well, then she had other "alternatives". One of her favorite ones was found on her very rare visit to Paris, where a peddler of exotic goods showed her what he called a "hookah" and ever since then, she has used it to fill her lungs and mind with sweet, numbing contentment.
It's totally safe. She thought to herself, Or else why would he sell it to me anyway? Besides, newborns die all the time, it wouldn't be because of my need of stress relief. Right?
Her thoughts were interrupted as another contraction shot through her body, making her yelp in pain.
"One more push, dearie." The midwife instructed as her assistant prepared some cloths to wrap the newborn in.
With a final scream and one more push, the baby was born and the room fell into total silence for a minute or so.
Not a sound was heard, not from the mother, not from the midwife, not from the assistant, and not from the baby.
"Mon Dieu." The midwife whispered as the assistant gasped in shock.
"What? What is it? What is wrong?!" Madeleine cried, anxious to see her child.
Neither the midwife nor the assistant responded. All that was heard was the midwife murmuring a prayer and the assistant leaving the room to call for the priest.
"Is it dead?" She whispered, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
Before the midwife made a responce, a tiny, soft wail resounded in the otherwise silent room as the woman looked down at the child and back to the mother in shock.
"Well? Give me my baby!" Madeleine demanded, her arms outstretched towards them.
"Are you sure, Madame?" She asked, her voice beginning to waver with uneasiness.
"I want to see my child!"
Hesitantly, the midwife made her way towards the bed, the mother's arms waiting for her child.
"It's a boy." She replied, moving away as Madeleine gently peeled the blanket away from her son's face.
What followed was an inhuman shriek of terror as the mother almost threw the child across the room in shock.
"That is not my child! That is a monster!"
The assistant appeared not a moment later, an elderly clergyman following behind her.
"Where is the poor child?" He asked, a sympathetic look on his face. The midwife gently took him from his traumatized mother and made her way towards the priest.
When he saw the face of the unfortunate child, he too gasped in shock.
"Is it alive?"
"Barely, sir. The wee boy just began to breathe." The midwife answered.
The priest looked down at the child and then back at the mother. Then, he made his way over to her, the midwife trailing after him.
"Here is your little one, Madame. He needs to nurse."
"NO! He's too hideous! I can't!"
"You must, or he will die." The midwife pleaded.
"Then let him die. His fate would be far better if he died now."
After a few minutes of the midwife and the mother going back and forth, with Madeleine refusing to even look in the direction of the child and the older woman practically pushing the child towards her, the old man became fed up and spoke up.
"Listen to me, woman. Regardless of what he looks like, he is your child. If you let him die, then you would be damned as a murderer and no murderer will be able to enter the Kingdom of Heaven."
The coldness in his words made Madeleine's blood freeze in her veins. The priest was known as a man with a warm smile and kind heart, a man who valued each and every member of his church like a shepherd valued his flock, as if they were precious jewels in God's crown, a man who wouldn't even dream of suggesting that any of his members would ever suffer eternal damnation. But now, he stood as a beacon of judgement which, in turn, frightened her.
Reluctantly, she allowed the midwife to place the tiny baby in her arms.
"I... I can't! I can't bear to look at it!"
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she saw it. It was a small, cloth bag that had three tiny holes ripped into it, one hole slightly bigger than the others.
"Hand me that." She pleaded to the now confused midwife. When the woman handed her the ruined cloth, Madeleine proceeded to cover the poor child's face with it. In no less than a minute, a makeshift mask was created and the baby was finally fed.
"Now, what is it that you want to name the child?" The priest asked after the child was finished.
"Why would I name a child that is probably going to die the next day ? If you want to give him a name, then you might as well name him yourself." She huffed as she gave a disgruntled look upon the baby.
The old man shook his head in disbelief. True, the child was ugly, but that shouldn't warrant the hatred of the one person that should love them the most. Sighing, he walked over to the bassinet where the newly-masked baby lay, his strange, yellow eyes glowing like a cat's as he studied the priest with an unnatural focus.
"I suppose that since she doesn't want to name you, I'll have to think of a fitting name for you. Such a shame. The only name that I can think of is my own." He muttered to the child as he picked him up.
"Madame, what is your last name?" He asked the mother.
"Destler."
"Destler? Well then, his name shall be Erik Gaston Destler."
With that, he procured a birth certificate, signed it, and handed it to the midwife before he headed for the door to leave.
"And Madame Destler?", He said as he left the house, "Take care of that child. No matter what he looks like, he is still one of God's creatures, just like you and I."
As he left, so did the midwife and the assistant, leaving only Madeleine, the newly named Erik, and the birth certificate to be alone in the house. With everyone gone, she snarled at the infant.
"God's creature? No. God would never create something so hideous. You are nothing but a spawn of the devil. And now, I am stuck with you. A monster!"
And at that moment, Erik Destler's life began.
A/N: Hello my fellow Phantom Phans! Missed me? 😋
Told you guys that there would be some new material soon!
So, I thought you guys might appreciate some of Erik's background in this chapter.
How was it?
If anyone is still interested in participating in the #TPARFanart competition, then here are the rules and regulations:
1. This contest is open to everyone.
2. You can post any type of artwork you like (such as silhouettes, character headshots, scenes from the story, character ships, etc), so long as it is NOT inappropriate. So, no highly sensitive content or anything that might seem pornographic.
3. All entries should be sent to me via Twitter (twitter.com/BroadwayBaby970), via Facebook(facebook.com/thepar9700) or via Wattpad PM's all under the hashtag #TPARFanArt
4. You are allowed to post the minimum of one to the maximum of 5 pieces of artwork to either Wattpad, Facebook or Twitter, but not to all three.
5. All entries should be in by December 25th in which there will be a poll to determine who will be part of the Top Three Best Artists.
6. I will announce the Top Three on the 30th and the overall Winner will be announced on the 1st of January.
7. All entries need to be YOUR OWN ARTWORK so NO PLAGIARIZING ALLOWED
8. The Top Three will be given a special shoutout, have their artwork posted on Facebook, Twitter, and Wattpad, and the overall Winner will have one of their artworks displayed as this book's cover art.
9. Violation to any of the set rules above(i.e: sending inappropriate artwork, posting more than five entries, suspected plagiarism) shall result in IMMEDIATE DISQUALIFICATION.
Vote, Comment, and Share and I'll see y'all next time!
M'kay, bye! 💖