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Memoirs of a Monster	By : Luv Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2993 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Roused from my delicious sleep, I stretched my frame and became instantly aware of the warm presence curled at my side. Feeling me stir, she too came out of her slumber, chasing sleep from her delicate limbs and giving a gentle moan of contentment that made my blood course quickly and my senses awaken fully again. She propped herself on one elbow and with the other hand she smoothed her palm over my chest as she smiled down at me and made a happy noise of satisfaction. Had I been any other man, I would have felt overwhelming triumph at the effect I had had on this lovely creature. She was languid and undeniably intoxicated with the effects of our love, and her visage left little doubt that she found me responsible for her state. I wished I had the wherewithal to have faith in such a perception, but I couldn’t ignore the stab of uncertainty that marred what should have been the happiest moment of my life.

Two things plagued me, and I cursed myself for being so introspective on such an occasion. I deduced that it was God’s final stand, his last promise that no pleasure would come to me unattended by paralleled torment. This time it was my habit of self-deprecation that led me away from the mindless bliss of the moment. Even after bedding a beautiful woman and lying with her glowing down at me as though I were the object of her only affection, I felt inadequate and undeserving. She viewed me with adoring eyes, but how could she not. Compared to savage rape by a band of drunkards, I suppose my humble attempts at lovemaking were sufficient, but that hardly made me a competent or deserving lover.

The other notion that invaded my poor brain was that of her comfort. I tried in vain to recall the event just prior to our sleep and could not. I found that my state of consciousness while serving her had been quite similar to that which overcomes me during composing. I am hardly aware of thought processes during such times, I act and react on instinct with no perception of the world around me. It was very likely that I, during my frenzied passionate state, could have harmed her and not even been cognizant of it. My mind flashed back to the site of her bloodstained thighs and I had the overwhelming urge to pull the coverlet from her and inspect her for injury. If I found I had hurt her, I would never forgive myself.

“What are you thinking about?” Her dreamy voice cut in on my thoughts and I looked at her. If she had been either disappointed or hurt, she showed no outward sign of it. Her fingers traced circles on my chest, and I shivered and stopped her hand, putting it to my lips for a brief moment before speaking.

“You,” I answered simply at first, and then laying her hand back over my heart and leaving my own to cover it I continued. “Did you – well that is to say – was it?” I fumbled at the words in much the same way I had fumbled at her body. Inept to the last, would I never learn?

“It was,” she said with a wide grin. She bent and kissed me.

It was some time before we broke apart, breathing rapidly and flushed. “I didn’t…hurt…you then?” I asked hesitantly, my eyes dropping noticeably to where she was concealed beneath the coverlet.

“No,” she said with a strain in her voice that told me a strong surge of emotion had welled up in her throat. Her eyes dropped and she intently busied herself with fondling my hand, turning it over and tracing the lines along the palm and up my fingers. It was highly arousing, but I stayed still, allowing her the time she needed to say what was obviously in her mind.

“I’ve never told you much about that night, in the stable.” She continued giving attention to my hand, her eyes were far off though and full of unspoken secrets that I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear. I had honored her request and allowed Lachenel to live. Hearing the details of his crime against her might incense me to a rage I would not be able to control. I had little trouble taking lives of those I found unworthy of life. To lay hands on a woman in anger, and to abuse her sacred body, it was enough to make murderous tremors of hate shoot through my heart. I stiffened, drawing a breath in quickly and clenching my jaw.

“You are not obliged to do so,” I answered. “I have no right to expect such a confession from you.” I watched her as she traced a finger up the blue vein of my wrist.

“Would you mind very much?” She looked up at me now, and I saw the threat of tears. “It’s only that I think I would feel much better if I spoke of it.”

A tear did break over her cheek then and I felt my chest heave with sorrow. I had taken this broken woman to my bed and selfishly used her despite the knowledge that she was an abused soul. The depths of my shameful lust new no bounds. I cursed myself silently and braced for the coming tale, nodding my head for her to continue.

“It was just after feeding time,” she began. “Lachenel and Jacque were heading back inside for their meal and bid me to join them. I did so, and when we went into the quarters, I suddenly became aware of them staring at me and grinning knowingly at one another. It was when Lachenel bolted the door and laughed that I realized my secret had been discovered.” She broke off for a moment, sorting through the memory in her head. “Apparently I had been spotted,” again she paused, and I saw red tinge her ears. “I had been spotted…relieving myself in one of the empty stalls. Lachenel said, ‘Little boys don’t often piss squatting do they?’ He had said this to Jacque,” she explained.

My fists were in tight balls over my chest. Were either of the men in question within my wrath, they would know no mercy.

Maddy continued. “Lachenel had motioned to Jacque to grab me, and before I could react he had me tight by the arms.” Now her speech began to be impeded by her emotion. Soft sobs traveled up her throat and she choked as she struggled to recount the events. I wanted to tell her to stop, but I saw a desperation to be free of the story, to have it out and not bottled up inside any longer. As much as I hated being the one to hear it, I took the burden as she presented it.

“Before I knew it they had torn my shirt and discovered the bandage around my breasts. This seemed to strike them as quite humorous and they made quick work of unraveling it and exposing me. Then one of the other grooms came in and before I knew it, one of them had cleared the table with a swipe of his arm and I was lying naked and pinned by two sets of hands on the table top.”

“When was this?” I suddenly interjected, a feeling of nausea creeping into my throat. My heart pounded and my head was light with fury. My fists ached from being clenched so tightly.

“Just after the evening feed,” Maddy replied. She seemed both startled by my interruption and oddly comforted by the common question. Facts were often good for distancing us from the awful truth of an incident. Whenever we must recount a horrifying instance in our lives, it is always best to return to fundamental facts of the occasion, such as time and place and other activities that are unrelated to the horror but still relevant. I was glad to offer her a moment of respite from reliving the atrocity, but found the news harrowing myself. For it was my unhappy realization that I had been in the stable, procuring Cesar for my ride while this very act was unfolding in the confines of the grooms’ quarters. Again, God poked at me with His tormenting stick and in my mind I shook my fist at Him.

I nodded and Maddy continued. Her ability to speak coherently became quite impaired and from what I gathered, the men had taken their time defiling her again and again. Two of them held her down and cheered on the third while he used her roughly, and then they traded off. Any attempt by her to fight back or escape was met with a blow to the face, and she soon found it futile to resist. They had then tied and left her on the table for later use, and had made good, coming in late that night drunk and full of wicked intentions. Again she was raped repeatedly, this time being manhandled by the fiends and passed about between them. By the time they had finished with her, no orifice was left unused. She had been thoroughly desecrated, and she was left in a heap on the floor as the men took their leave and stumbled off to their bunks. It was then that she had made her escape, literally crawling from the quarters out into the stable. She had found the empty stall and hidden beneath the manger, terrified, bruised, bleeding and naked.

“Then you found me,” she said wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands. During the telling of the account she had sat upright, the coverlet pulled protectively around her and looked out into space as she spoke. Now she sat with the blank stare, seeing God knows what. Her tears had ceased, and a calmness seemed to come over her all at once. I sat up to join her, but was unsure of whether or not to touch her. I had no words, and knew better than to try to say anything. I sat silently by her side for a moment, and then reached out and tenderly touched her back. As though she had been waiting for my touch, she immediately leaned back to me and I gathered her against my chest tucking her head under my chin and rocking her slowly.

We did not speak for some time. She was no doubt struggling with letting go of her demons and my speech was stopped by the fact that I had failed her, though she had no notion of it. I had been in the stable at the very time this heinous crime had taken place, and yet I had been unable to save her. You couldn’t have known, a logical voice said in my head. But I felt wretched just the same.

“Erik?” Maddy lifted her head and turned to me. She looked so lovely, her skin flushed with emotion and her face showing the evident signs of relief.

“Yes?” I replied gently. I looked at her and wondered how I was going to take our parting in the morning. A jolt of pain shot through my chest and I put the thought out of mind immediately.

“Take me riding,” she said with slight smile. Her eyes shone with excitement. “On Cesar. Would you?”

“Of course,” I said, and I pulled her to my chest and kissed the top of her head
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Memoirs of a Monster