Night Terrors (Claude Delacroix)

[Erik Lavalais]

I sat up, breathing heavily. My head hurt. It felt like I hadn’t had oxygen for a while…I opened my eyes, turning to see if my hookah was still set up in the corner. I’d probably had too much shisha. But…my hookah wasn’t there. And I wasn’t in my coffin. Or my nightshirt…This was…no, it couldn’t be. Had I really been asleep this whole time? Was the whole future just a dream? Teressa, Christine, the Manor…all of it had been a dream! I stood, going over to my washbasin. I looked in the tiny looking glass on the wall. All of the scars that I remembered so well, with the exception of the missing chunk of my ear and the twin scars on the right side of my lips, were gone. They were all gone…Was she?

I washed my face then left without even thinking to put on the mask. After all, it was my caravan, and no one in the whole troupe of Romani minded much that I was different. Well, not counting any of the single women looking for a good husband. Such is my curse, I suppose. I left my vardo, sneaking around the colourful wagon and away from the others in the campfire. Though they didn’t mind it if I never wore my mask around the encampment, I still heard them call me “mollo” from time to time. It was in regards to my face, it had to be. I kept to the shadows, making my way to the other side of the encampment before finding her vardo.

I rapped three times just below the beautifully painted window. She loved colours, and wasn’t afraid to show how creative and beautiful her art was. Her entire vardo was covered in her paintings. She had flowers and motifs and patterns that would put any baroque building to shame. The wood creaked, and I knew she’d heard. A few moments passed before she found me, then we silently clasped hands and ran off into the woods by the camp. Once out of earshot of the others in the Romani encampment, we laughed at our cleverness.

Her eyes always sparkled with life when she laughed, and her smile could put the sun’s rays to shame. Though she was twenty years my junior, she made me feel as though I was her age. They’d think she was some sort of witch, for sure, for showing me fancy. But she didn’t seem to care. It made me feel…wanted. We came to our clearing, and immediately, she turned to me. There were no words between us, but there was no need for them. She reached for my hand, looking at me the whole time. I don’t know what she saw in me. Frankly, I didn’t need to know. As long as she saw something in me that set me apart in a good way. But then, the unexpected…she leaned up to me, bringing her face closer and closer to mine. She closed the space between our lips, and my nerves sparked. My eyes closed, and slowly, cautiously, I relaxed to her. But….but then something didn’t feel right…I opened my eyes. She fell away, and I saw...God…her body crumpled, unnaturally…I cried out. It couldn’t be…No, no, it just couldn’t! I’d…I’d destroyed her! But it wasn’t over, oh no…

Suddenly, her head turned with a nasty crack, her eyes staring straight at me. She opened her mouth, and I backed away, as quickly as possible. Please, for the love of God…the spectre before me…don’t let it speak…Yet she did. It was a hoarse, raspy whisper of a voice, like that of a demon…

Erik…..

Erik screamed, starting up from his coffin. He was breathing hard, and he’d broken into a cold sweat. It was that damned nightmare again. He picked himself up from his coffin, walking to his organ bench and picking up his robe. He slipped it on, pushing the sleeves up while walking to his bathroom. He immediately went to the sink, throwing a washrag into the sink and starting the water. He wet the washrag and pressed it to his face, breathing slowly. He needed to calm himself before trying to sleep again. Why was it ALWAYS the same? What did he have to do to get rid of it? He sighed. He supposed God would never let him live it down. He killed her…Miya.

He shut off the water, squeezed out the washrag, and went back to his coffin. He sat on the edge. This was too much. Every night? Was God punishing him? He thought that two hundred years or so of punishment was a little excessive…But if that was what God willed…then it must be so. For he wanted to avoid hell as much as possible. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he were scorned in the afterlife as he had in this life…

[Claude Delacroix]

Claude was becoming bored. He had been slinking about the manor for what seemed like ages with a deep, persistent hunger clawing at him. In his prime, Claude had Charles Dalimar in the palm of his hand. The man was his puppet for him to manipulate to do his bidding. Now he was on his own unless he found someone new to use.

He had decided to check out one of the other lairs he hadn't come across yet. He placed the maid, Adina, in Erik Lenoir's lair; he found the siren in another of the lairs and now saw what seemed to be a tall labyrinth just beyond the lake. He snapped his fingers and popped to the other side of the water's edge. He looked upon the labyrinth and sighed. Did he have to go through this bloody maze?… He growled to himself and felt something about the maze's exterior that made him feel weaker than he already felt. His hunger was consuming him and he had no other choice but to go into the maze.

……

He made it through without a scratch. After all, he was the Devil! A smirk of pride spread across his face, indicating how full of himself he really was. He came upon the house and could sense something was going on inside of it. He gazed upon the house and wondered what- or who- resided within those walls. He could faintly smell something like molasses and sugar with a strange smoky fragrance. Mu'assel. He remembered that smell; he had haunted a man in India who often smoked from a hookah pipe every night. That smell brought back such pleasant memories. He had poisoned the pipe tobacco with demon blood and it would ritually induce horrific nightmares for the frail Indian man that he would wake up soaked in sweat! Now THAT had been a good time for him; how he loved it!

With a wave of his hand, he slipped through the door as if it were not there and looked about the room. Suddenly, he heard a scream and vanished into a dark corner to watch as he saw a shadow from the far end of the house move away from him. Then came the sound of running water. Who lived here, he wondered. Which Phantom was this? The scent of the hookah tobacco all but vanished now and something else replaced it. A mixture of death and life… Then something else.

Perfume… A woman lived here? Teressa!

He paused and wondered if she was in the house. He gave a soft sigh and then growled to himself. No, not here. He had deeply fallen for the beautiful woman and did not wish to frighten her. But that scream, it did not sound like a woman's cry of fear, but a man's. Did she live with someone? Not Destler, surely not! He would rarely venture out of his lair and Claude would know if he were skulking around. His scent of death was a different one; not as pungent. But it seemed that the man who lived here had a much more intense scent, as if he had lived longer than Destler had. But that was not possible; Claude had given Destler near immortality so long as he continued to play his music. This was someone else, someone he hadn't come across; he rarely ventured into the lairs unless it were to torment Destler or when he had been drawn down by the siren.

He looked into the room where he had heard the running water and saw the person who- obviously- had screamed from such a fright. He looked at the man who had gone to the washroom but then quickly moved into the darkness when he saw him leaving to go back to his room. He moved closer and saw the coffin. How extraordinary! Only the dead normally slept within such a pine box; but not this Phantom. He was very much alive. That was interesting!

"'Ello there," He crooned, moving into the room like a snake sizing up its prey. "Sorry but your screams peeked our curiosity. Sleeping problems, eh? Nightmares perhaps?" He smiled that serpent-like grin, his white teeth nearly glistening and his canines sharp as a wolf's. He stopped and chuckled softly. "Where are our manners? Claude Delacroix, good sir. You are one of the phantoms here, correct? And there is a woman who lives her as well, we-… I take it."

The demon inhaled deeply and exhaled with a groan. "Her perfume… Incense and flowers. But you are who I am here for tonight." He reached out without looking to his side and pulled a chair around in front of himself, sitting down so his legs straddled the sides and rested his arms over the back; that horrible smirk still upon his face. "So," He exhaled, smiling upon the man before him. "How would you like it if we made the nightmares stop?"

"Oh, and don't look so alarmed, please," He continued, smoothly getting up and moving closer to Erik. "We know everything about all of the residents in the manor." He drew closer and closer until he was right in front of Lavalais. He leaned in to his ear and whispered…

"We know about Miya."

[Erik Lavalais]

Erik looked up quickly at the sound of the man's voice. Inhaling sharply, he completely ignored the fact that he was maskless. This man had broken into his house. Erik hadn't heard the electric bell, nor had he heard any of the usual creaks of the house. The man blithered on about Erik's nightmares, and before Erik could open his mouth to tell the man that he was about to die a horrible death, his throat went dry. The man had mentioned that he knew a woman lived here...He knew about Teressa...

Erik pushed himself up from the side of his coffin, giving the man an angry glare. "You can't make my nightmares stop. They've been going on for ages, what makes you think that you're a miracle cure? Get out of my ro--"

We know about Miya...

What? But...but how?!

"LEAVE. NOW." Erik bristled, getting angrier and more defensive with each word then man said. How DARE he intrude in Erik's house! How DARE he possibly conceive that he could hurt Erik and his family! If this man didn't clear out of the house and back across the lake in ten seconds, Erik would throttle him. He'd have to explain himself to Teressa in the morning, but it was a price he was willing to pay to keep his secrets safe. Not even Teressa knew about Erik's youth. She didn't know about Miya. And if this man knew, Erik could be blackmailed easily. Controlled...NO. He couldn't let that happen.

[Claude Delacroix]

Claude couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Oh ho ho!! Seems someone's still intact!" He quickly side stepped away from Erik and then disappeared without a trace. "Come, come, now," He continued, his voice throwing from different sides of the room. "That's no way to speak to someone who can help you be rid of your night terrors. Nightmares are our specialty."

Specialty for inducing them, He thought to himself, smirking inwardly.

"The master of the manor- more like the caretaker- thought that we too were a 'miracle cure' as you say. Unfortunately for him, his woes were far worse and we had little power to correct them. But we can help you… You want her back, don't you?" With that, Claude shifted to the form of the woman Erik loved. How would the man respond to seeing his dead lover come back to life?

He looked just like Miya: her thick, dark hair; her velvety, olive skin; her dark eyes that could make any man fall for her. She smiled and swayed her hips with each delicate step she took. Her little hands reached out to touch Erik's face, her lips spread into a sweet smile. She leaned in to hug him tightly. But something was not right; her grip was very strong. Her eyes met his and she held on tighter as if wanting to crush his spine. "Why, Erik?" She asked softly, the smile never leaving her face as she leaned in to whisper in his ear…

"Why did you kill me?"

Suddenly, Miya seemed to slump backwards, her back arching at an unnatural angle with a sickening snapping sound. Her eyes stared at Erik and her hands reached out with malicious intent towards Lavalais. "Why did you kill me, Erik?!" She shrieked, that wicked grin nearly splitting her mouth open at the corners. "Why??! WHY?!!" But jut as she was about to wrap her hands around Lavalais' throat, she vanished and Claude now stood right behind the shaken Phantom.

"We can end your night terrors, Erik," The devil crooned, locking his fingers around the man's shoulder as he leaned close to his ear. "Would you like that? You need only do one little thing for us."

[Erik Lavalais]

Erik was facing something more than any normal man...This was a person who was powerful and knew it. The man shrunk into the darkness, telling Erik that he really could rid him of the nightmares. Erik didn't believe that for a second. For almost two-hundred years, the nightmares had plagued his thoughts. For almost two-hundred years, he hadn't had a single night of true, peaceful sleep. He was tired of waking up at odd hours of the night, screaming like a frightened child, but it had become so regular, it was part of his daily routine, it seemed. This man didn't hold control over Erik's thoughts. He couldn't, it was impossible. Until...

"Miya...?" Erik sounded like a child, he knew. But how else should he react, seeing her in his room now, after so many years without her? But this was impossible! He was a different man now, a killer, a fiend! She wouldn't take him back, no...but her arms around his waist...She was so small...so fragile...Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around her, picking her up slightly, holding her tight. But her grip was somehow...tighter...stronger...And then, as they looked at each other, she mutated back, into that...GOD, that ugly demonic creature that he'd made her into all those years ago. She screamed at him, and Erik heard every word. Why? Why, indeed...

"NO!" Erik scrambled to let her go, but her hands grasped for his throat. He instinctively threw his hands up to protect his neck and face as he fell to the floor with the shock. "No, no, no, I didn't mean it, I swear!"

And then she vanished.

Erik got to his feet, shakily. That was...was he still having his nightmare? If so, this was a new addition. There was a grip on his shoulder, and the man was back, hissing into his ear. Erik knew, then, that the man had been telling the truth all along. The man did have power over Erik's dreams. Erik could be rid of all the pain and guilt he had to relive every night....But...shouldn't that be completely impossible?

"You are a demon, aren't you...?" Erik's voice was calm. He'd never dealt with a demon on a personal level before...God surely was testing him...This was a test of faith, as so many trials had been before. It must be.

[Claude Delacroix]

The monstrous image of Miya contorted and faded from view just as Claude's form materialized from the shadows. He slunk behind Lavalais but his mind was wandering… He couldn't stop thinking about Teressa. Where could she be? He desperately wanted to see her again; but he had to keep his mind focused on Erik- this strange Erik- and perhaps even give him a little something in return should he be able to court Teressa.

He watched as the vision of Miya twisted and writhed violently before fading into the blackness of the room. His attention was caught by Erik's shattered composure even though he tried to remain calm. He let go of Lavalais' shoulder and walked around in front of him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his overcoat. He was clearly fascinated by this other Erik. He seemed to be able to control his emotions better than the others; Destler was always quick to anger and a sharp temper, and Lenoir too had a sharp tongue- especially when drunk- but he was much different than Destler. Each Erik was a bit different from the others which made Claude wonder who exactly created them all?


"Oh! He's a sharp one!" Claude exclaimed with an acrid tone of sarcasm. "Can't slip anything by you, darling, aha haha!" Then he inhaled deeply and exhaled, his expression slowly calming and a snake-like smile spread across his dark face. "But to be honest, yes… We are. But not just any demon. You may call us Claude though we do not always go by that name. Does the name Lucifer ring a bell? And before you go spouting that He is testing you… God has nothing to do with this. All we want is to ask for is to court miss Teressa."

[Erik Lavalais]

Erik gave a derisive little laugh. "You tell me that you are the Devil and expect me to be so scared as to let you court my ward? Ha! I'm afraid to inform you that she's already seeing someone else." Erik spat at the Devil's feet, giving him a glare. "And even if she weren't seeing someone, I'd hardly let her be courted by the likes of you."

He turned, going to the bench of his organ and sitting down. His noose was sitting in its place under the bench. All he had to do was keep talking, distract this demon long enough to reach the lasso, then he could gain the upper hand. He might possibly kill the demon - if they were indeed killable....

Erik scanned the room for his crucifix...he shouldn't have taken it down...Ever since Christine had snubbed him, his faith in God had been shaken. His want to live had been snuffed, but he could hardly commit suicide. He'd tried all sorts of ways of offing himself, but nothing seemed to work. The only solution, in his mind, was that God had abandoned him....perhaps he'd been right...

[Claude Delacroix]

Claude's smile twisted into a sneering scowl upon Lavalais' words. Had this man really no idea the powers he held? Was he really this ignorant? Just as he was about to give a snide remark, Claude saw the Phantom spit at his shoes… Somehow, that seemed to bring him back to reality. "Oh, by the time we are finished talking here, you will be more than willing to allow me to court the lovely goddess Teressa."

He walked closer to Erik and placed one hand on his shoulder, the other gripping his wrists together. "Don't even think about using that noose you have. We only wish to help you. We, proverbially, scratch your back, and you scratch ours…. Look at us." He turned Lavalais so that the two men were face to face. Snapping his fingers, Erik's mask flung itself across the room and Claude kept an unhumanly strong grip upon the man's shoulders. "We can give you a real face. That is what you desire; to look normal, is it not? We will make you look- as you mortals say- 'normal' and you let us court Teressa. And make sure that bastard Destler stays away from her… Would you care to see how you would look if we did this for you?"

[Erik Lavalais]

Erik struggled against the man's grip as he explained more of his motive. He almost leapt up in anger against the devil as his mask flew across the room. However, something the man said stopped him dead in his tracks. His face...the devil could give him a face....

Erik had heard many things about making deals with the Devil. He'd twist your words, give you what you wanted, but always at a terrible price. He would give Erik his face in exchange for Teressa...That wasn't a price that he was very willing to pay. Teressa had been his companion for almost eighty years. She kept him sane, kept his temper in check, kept him from getting lonely....but...a face...

"I...my face..." His eyes widened. The possibilities....He could have a nose! A real nose! He'd have normal skin! Instead of his yellowed skin, he'd have normal white skin!

"Can....." he gulped. "Can I see...." His voice was weak, cracking a bit. This...he couldn't fathom this...

[Claude Delacroix]

He smiled sadistically at the sight of Erik's reaction to the sudden unmasking. "Aww, why so shy?" He mocked, snapping his fingers and the mask flew into his hands. He turned it over and looked at it before smiling again at Erik.

Claude looked on and watched the Phantom's expression shift from one of rage to that of a man in awe and shock. He knew he had gotten him! Hook, line, and sinker, ha! This was too perfect. The man's face in exchange for Teressa, that beautiful, exquisite goddess!

"By all means, sir," He bowed and stepped closer to Erik. Inhaling deeply, Claude closed his eyes and placed the palm of his hand against Lavalais' forehead. In an instant, new fresh skin began to shift onto the deformed man's face, spreading across his cheeks, nose, and the rest of his living mask. He groaned as the transformation of Erik's face took a slight toll on his physical body, a bit of blackish blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. He moved to the side to wipe it away, panting as he looked back to the man. Would he liked what he saw?

[Erik Lavalais]

Erik stood shakily, as the demon finished his work. Would he be handsome...would he still be freakish, regardless of the demon's promise to give him his face...He hesitantly made a cross to his bathroom, standing in the doorway. Was he ready to see whatever would stare him back in this mirror? No...but...but he was curious, all the same....He stepped into the bathroom, keeping his eyes to the floor. He positioned himself, a hand on either side of the sink, before staring up into his new reflection.

He fell back, astounded, picking himself up with the assistance of the wall. That was not him in that mirror! No, it couldn't be! The skin, with the exception of the faint traces of the twin lip scars and the little nick of ear missing from his right ear, was completely flawless! He had stubble! REAL STUBBLE! His golden eyes peered out from scar-less sockets, underneath scar-less eyebrows, framed by his long tousled hair. He smiled....that wasn't the best part....

There...right there! There in the middle of his face...he had a nose! A REAL nose! Like every other man on the planet! He was normal! No one would look twice at him on the streets! He could walk maskless and be normal! He could've shouted for joy. He skittered out of the bathroom, staying in the doorway. Then, he turned to the demon.

"You may have what you seek...Thank....thank you....for....for all this."

[Claude Delacroix]

Claude smiled and watched as Erik went to the mirror. He waited patiently, relishing the fact that now the man would be under his thumb! Hell, he could pull his strings and make him dance on hot coals if he wanted to! But for now, he was content enough to allow Erik to savor his own new face.

A smug grin crossed his face when he saw Erik's reaction to seeing his own real, normal face. Not only was he giving this man something he's always wanted, but- in return- he would give Claude the one thing he most desired: Teressa's hand. Even the Devil had manners; chaos and destruction followed in his wake, but he needed to keep up appearances around others.

"You like what you see then?" He asked gently, walking up behind the clearly shaken man. He looked in the mirror at Erik's reflection… He really was quite handsome; if he were slightly inclined, he probably would have nipped at those new ears of Erik's. But his sights were on something much more divine and otherworldly. He would have Teressa, even if he had to kidnap her to make her his own!

He gave a deep and courteous bow, his dark eyes never turning away from Erik's renewed and bright ones. "Make sure and enjoy all the pleasures life has to offer to you now… You never know what will happen in the future."