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Ascent to Power	By : Hot4Gerry Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 5436 -:- 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
- 15
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Chapter Fifteen
Test the Man

One of life's many ironies faced Erik across the desk in his downtown office. Fate always had a cruel sense of fun at Erik's expense. Looking at the man across from him he could not help the sardonic smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.
Here Erik sat, three days after dispensing justice to Michael O'Reilly across the desk from the third culprit who committed a crime against Erik. Mr. Ox O'Sullivan lounged in the chair as if he visited private luxury offices every day. He sat sloched back with his legs out. His crossed ankles stretched out toward Erik's desk. The third man he sought to settle a score with using any means he saw fit would not stay in any peg hole Erik placed him in. As soon as Erik thought he knew what kind of man he was dealing with a contradiction came to light. This man was a true puzzle. His neighbors and friends saw him as a modern day Robin Hood. If he were English Erik would swear the man was that immortal legend passed down through the ages so that now no one knew fact from fiction. Much the same as the retelling of all the stories of The Phantom of the Opera by Joseph Buquet and all the little ballet rats including Little Meg Giry.

"So Mr. Ox O'Sullivan we meet again. This meeting is a little more to my liking. It shall be just you and I this time. I have not overindulged in drink. You do not know how lucky you were that night. I have killed men in the most tortuous ways for less than what you did to me. As Nadir has told you I wish to hire you to teach me what you know. For this service you will be greatly compensated."

"If you choose to accept my offer of employment I am willing to forget the slightmisunderstanding from our first meeting. If not I intend to make the next few minutes most unpleasant for you."

"I'll no' work for the likes of you boyo. I work for no other than myself. Always have an' I always will. So if you’ve notin' further I’ll be headin' back to my drinkin' stool. That Mr. Nadir is a might persuasive. Had me believin' I’d be led to a wee pot o' gold. Mind ya' now this is a most pleasin' place but I see no gold for ole Ox layin' about."

"Perhaps Nadir was a bit unclear as to the purpose I shall need your services. I would advice to you is to accept my offer." Erik walked to the front of his desk sitting on the edge just in front of Ox. He kicked Ox's feet to the side then crossed his own ankles comfortably. He folded his arms across his chest facing the man with an icy glare. Most men would have cowered under that unrelenting stare. Not so Ox O'Sullivan. His face continued to hold his insolent smile as he returned Erik's look for look. Not a man given to cowardly behavior as far as Erik could ascertain from the information he had received on this complex man before him. Ox was more than what he showed the world. He along with his two cohorts had given Erik a severe beating. That night was an anomoly in what was otherwise unviolent nature. From what Erik had learned Ox rarely used any form of violence on those he targeted to releave of their valuables. Perhaps Erik had caught him on a bad night. Erik also had to concede that his pride had been stung by Erik getting the better of him with the few connections of Erik's fist to Ox's face.

"Looka here boyo I fleeced ye' fair an' square. I might have been a wee bit heavy handed with the fists but no harm done. I must confess I was a wee mift to find myself on the receivin' end of your powerful blows. Not many men have laid a glove on ole Ox outside the ring. But let's no' harbor any hard feelins lad. You're here and I’m here so all is well." In Ox's mind that was the end of things.

As he finished the last words he got up to leave. As he turned toward the door he felt a slim rope fly over his head and encircle his neck in a life threatening chokehold. The more he struggled the tighter the rope became. He felt the menacing presence behind him. He heard the deep rapid breaths. His hands were useless grappling with the ever tightening rope. He stumbled backward. He felt a hard shove to his back knocking him to his knees. He fell forward to the floor. Erik's foot pressed heavily into the middle of Ox's back.

"You are in my world now. In this world I say who lives and who dies. You leave when I say you leave. Have no doubts that I will kill you without a moments hesitation if you displease me. I have killed men for less than the disrespect you have shown me. Do I make myself absolutely clear? I would hate for you to lose your life over a mere misunderstanding. Now, will you return to your seat and listen to my proposal of employment or should I end this now?" Erik jerked the rope to make his meaning clear. He stomped his booted foot into the man's back for added emphasis. Erik had no real plan to kill the man. He was a petty thief who shared what he had with those less fortunate in his neighborhood. If he made a profit at the same time who was Erik to say he was totally wrong? Had he not stolen for many years from the opera house? He had not done so out of any altruistic intentions. His theft had been about survival.

Ox tried to speak but found that with rope so tight around his neck not one sound would leave his lips. All he could do was make rasping sounds. Ox tried to remove that tightening rope wrapped around his neck but with each struggling maneuver the rope tightened more. Again he tried to speak.

Just because Erik sympathized with the man's situation did not mean he would not exact some small revenge against the man. He did have his pride after all. "Oh, I do beg your pardon. It has been so long since I have had an occasion to us the Punjab lasso that I was lost in the moment. Well that is not quite true and I do wish to be perfectly honest in my dealings with you. I did have your friends Michael and Thomas ensnared within the lasso. Thomas fared much better than Michael as you may have heard. Ah, I see by your expression you know the circumstances of my meetings with both men. You as a criminal must understand the power of complete control over a helpless victim. One moment only meaning to frighten becomes an overpowering urge to take the life in your grasp." A gentle tug and the rope tightened further. Erik had been aware of all he was doing. His days of mindless torture of his victim's had long since passed as his insanity had left him. He now thought and acted with a clear head. His statement was to enforce the fact that he would have no hesitancy in relieving Ox of his pitiful life. He wanted to emphasize his power over this man that he had at this moment. A power he would only exert so far and no further. His control over his darker nature was increasing but never far from the surface.

"I ask again, will you return to your seat so that we may carry on a discussion as gentlemen? I will not repeat my offer again. Not many get even the second chance I have given you so think carefully and answer wisely." Erik allowed rhe man enough slack to roll to his side. He wanted to look the man in the eye so he would know that Erik spoke the truth or as much of the truth as Erik wished him to see.

Ox shook his head not taking his eyes from the fierce gaze of the man holding his life by a thin rope wrapped around his neck. The truth of this man's words stared back at him. His gaze did not waver or soften. The man looked as if he dispensed death threats daily as part of his routine.

The rope was immediately loosened and removed then quickly put back on Eric's belt under his suit jacket. Erik straightened and adjusted the jacket of his suit. He tugged his sleeves down over his shirt cuffs. One would never guess by looking at him that only a few moments ago he had threatened a man's life.

"Now some refreshments to sooth your throat and then we will discuss my proposition. No need to be uncivilized or hold a grudge. As far as I am concerned with your acquiescence all past ill will is now buried. I am sure the same can be said for you."

"Oh, aye. 'Tis a waste of time and energy to hold a grudge. I’ll be thankin' ye for a wee bit of good Irish whiskey if you have such a thing if not whatever sits on your shelf will be just dandy. I'll no' have none of that women swill called tea." His shudder when speaking the word showed how he viewed the drink. Personally Erik did not mind tea once in a while and until discovering coffee while recovering at Nadir's he had preferred it with his breakfast. He could not ever remember being offered coffee in Persia. Nadir assured him it was a favored drink as was tea. He had missed so much living underneath the ground for so long. Imagine not tasting coffee for thirty-two years.

Having served himself with a small tumbler of brandy he poured a generous portion of whiskey into another for Ox. The odd man had shaken his head each time Erik had been about to take the bottle away from the glass. When not one more drop could flow into the glass he nodded acceptance. It would seem Ox had a bit of a fondness for drink. His tolerance for the beverage was far greater than Michael's had been. He did not become violent or stupid under the influence. He just got friendlier and thought he could sing well enough to compete with any opera tenor. His songs tended to be a bit bawdy in nature so were not fit for mixed company.

Erik eyed the man for a moment assessing him. He was a brawny beat up man. Still handsome for all his battle scars. He had a thick head of light brown hair that looked as if a comb had never been used to tame the curly strands. He did not smell so Erik thought the wildness of his hair was more because of the unmanageable curls rather than lack of grooming. His piercing blue eyes were clear with no sign of repeated overindulgence of alcohol. Although his clothing was not of good quality it was clean. All in all Ox was a big lumbering man who had used the abilities he had to tend to his own needs as well as others along the way. The information Erik had received stated that Ox was basically an honest man. Once his word was given he stuck by it. Loyalty once earned was given for life. He was a Robin Hood if not the Robin Hood.

Ox downed the glass all in one long drink without pausing for breath until the glass was emptied. He thumped the glass down on the desk and addressed Erik in a mock friendly tone.

"Well now that the pleasantries are out of the way give the gist of your proposition. There'll be no skirtin' around the truth. Just what use would you be havin' for a tough beat up old Irishman?"

"Your skills with your fists. You will teach me how to, now let me see if I remember what Nadir called it, ah yes. Boxing. I wish to learn how to box. Learn the moves you made when you pounded me in that alley. I can hit well and hard with my fists but the way you fought was almost an art. I wish to learn."

"Pardon me if I'm steppin' a mite out of line but I can hear the French persuasion in your voice. Now I’ll no' be judgin' a man for his short cummins but the Frenchies I make a noddin' acquaintance with are a mite on the tender side. They make fine dandies but among real men they fall a bit on the feminine side. They fit well at women's teas or listening at that God awful opera but I fear a refined Frenchman would faint if he had but a few wee minutes in my world."

Erik may reject most of humanity and felt outside the circle of acceptable French society but he was a loyal Frenchman at heart. His heart would forever belong to his native French soil.

"Apparently you have forgotten my rope around your neck a moment ago. Must I refresh your memory? I am a gentleman who happens to be French. I am not a dandy. I do not have feminine tendencies. I have a passion for music and specifically opera. Tea is a beverage I enjoy from time to time. Make no mistake there is nothing soft about my nature." As he spoke Erik pulled the Punjab from his belt. He fingered the strong thin strands of rope with the fingers of both hands. His eyes burned with menace.

Ox swallowed hastily. The man before him gave Ox a real uncomfortable feeling. Not many men could disturb Ox. Ox saw something buried deep but still lingering in his eyes. A cruelty barely restrained. Ox had seen that look before in the faces of the men who entered the ring with one object in mind. The killing of the other man who challenged him. No mercy was given. No mercy was requested. "Now let's no' be doin’ somthin' I will surely regret. Let's make no hasty decisions. I meant no insult. I spoke of what I have seen in others I have met. Put the rope back. No need for threats. I can see your not the usual Frenchman. Now what do you propose for ole Ox?"

"I wish to learn to fight properly with my fists. I know how to fight. I want to know how to fight to win. I’ll not be beaten again. Make no mistake if I did not have a use for you I would not be lenient in your punishment."

"Now what kind o' way be that to start a proper friendship? Threats. You’ll no find it an easy task learnin' about the art of fightin’. A bit a pain will come with the knowin'. Do I have your promise as a gent that you'll no' take any further actions agin me for the misunderstanding we had?"

"You have my word as a gentleman of honor that I will do nothing to harm you outside our training sessions of course. Within the ring I will make no promises to not seek to harm you as much as I can."

"Fair enough. We have a deal. Now when would ya' be wantin' this first lesson?"
"Would now be convenient?" The tone suggested Ox should make it convenient for his own safety. Not waiting for his consent Erik prepared to leave his office. He flagged a cab then boarded after Ox having given his home address. Erik took Ox to the basement of his home where he had set up a punching bag of sorts. He had placed padding around the walls. He did not wish for anyone to get severely hurt hitting the stone walls. Even with the protective head covering damage could occur to vulnerable areas of the head.

The lessons began. Ox did not go easy with the huge masked man. Erik had baulked at the request to remove his mask. Ox had proved it would be beneficial. One wrong hit and the mask would shatter, embedding pieces in Erik's face. His leather mask would not be so much of an obstacle but the dressier porcelain mask could shatter like glass. Ox would not concede to let Erik wear his leather mask either. His theory was that he should be allowed to face the man who was his opponent with nothing hiding the face of the man who would be hitting him back.

Nadir could not watch this senseless exchange of blows. Darius on the other hand could appreciate the skill. He likened the exchange of blows to a dance between two opponents. The objective was not to woo but to overpower your opponent. The movements of boxers did indeed at times resemble a strange sort of pagan dance. Erik learned well this new form of defense. He had heard Ox telling of bouts that were scheduled weekly but were not sanctioned by any authentic boxing club. The boxers were mostly newcomers looking to make a name for themselves. Older boxers who could no longer fight in the ring legally fought in this way to retain their dignity. They were not ready to be put out to pasture just yet.

Erik asked Ox to take him with him the next time he went. He wanted to have a bout with someone to test his skills. Ox warned him there would be no protective gear worn in this ring and he would not be allowed to wear his mask. There were no rules governing the fights. Honor was meted out by each individual contestant. No one expected gentlemanly behavior. These were for the most part highly brutal matches with no holds barred.

Erik agreed to the terms and understood all the risks. He just wanted the opportunity to release some of his aggression without risking going to jail. He could feel a storm brewing but had no idea of the cause. He just knew he had to release this pent-up energy in some form of violence. Violence was second to his music as a way to release the devils that chased at Erik's heels. If violence was to be a form of release from his demons he wanted to be in control of the violence so as not to endanger anyone who may be innocent. Erik was learning to curb his temper but at times he was overcome with emotions he could not control. He no longer wished for these urges to rule him. He wanted to be in control of them instead of the other way around.

The barn was located outside the city limits. There were more people than Erik thought there would be. Bleachers had been built to accommodate the large crowd in attendance. When he thought of it at all he surmised it would be a few men looking for a fight and a few who would watch. The ring set up in the middle of the barn was surrounded by perhaps a hundred men and yes even a few women. Surprisingly most of the spectators were from the upper echelon of society. The men looked for the brutality of the match, the women wanted see the raw sexual attractions of half naked men baring their well muscled bodies. The fights themselves provided stimulation that allowed them to enjoy a wicked hour exchanging passion fueled by brutality. The next day these same refined ladies would be sipping tea in some parlor discussing art or some new poem or great new literature that had recently been penned. For this one night each week they were allowed to lower their refined ways and be a little naughty.

When Erik entered the building with Ox he became the focus of almost everyone around him. Who is he? Will he fight or be a spectator? I hope he fights. I would love to see what is under those elegant clothes. My God he has been chiseled from granite. Look at those magnificent hands. I wonder if all of him is equally as big. Hush Miriam. Someone will hear you. So who gives a damn? This is my night and I will damn well enjoy it I think I could enjoy it more with those marvelous looking hands stroking over my skin.
You are shameless Miriam. Well just think how shameless I could be with a man like that. Stop it. Your husband will hear. No he won't. He's too busy sizing up the potential competitors for the next few bouts.Those were just a few of the comments bandied about.

Erik did indeed look impressive. The white of his shirt contrasted with the black of the rest of his attire. He still wore his mask affording him some anonymity. He was quite a dashing figure.He stood head and shoulders above most of the men crowding around the ring. He walked with dignity and carried an air of authority. He neither looked left nor right. He did not hesitate in his powerful stride. Those in his path moved aside for he slowed his step not one bit until he reached the table where contestants signed in for matches.

The gentlemen sitting at the table gave a startled look then proceeded to ask him if he was sure he wanted to enter into this arena. The fights got fairly bloody at times. There were no rules other than the rule against having a weapon in the ring. The gentlemen preferred to watch. He could even place a bet on a fighter he felt looked promising. Nothing could sway Erik from his decision.

"No I wish to participate. Ox O'Sullivan can vouch for my ability to participate." Erik looked behind him to where Ox stood patiently waiting until he was needed.

"Aye, he'll give 'em a fair run for their money. I trained the lad myself. Do no' let the gentleman's dress fool ye'. He'll be givin' ye' a bit o' sport."

They discussed it amongst themselves. It was decided he would fight against Tornado Jackson. Tornado Jackson got his nick name because he quickly left destruction in the ring. He had not been beaten since he had fought against Ox. It rankled him that Ox would not step into the ring with him again. Even though Ox had almost killed him the last time he felt he was a much better fighter after two years. He had been in training constantly with a bout every now and then to keep his skills in the ring sharpened. His muscles had gotten larger since Ox had seen him. He no longer looked on in eager anticipation of having a bit of sport. Now he looked to maim and give as much pain to his opponent as possible. He was a popular fighter. Known for spilling blood and lots of it.

"Erik lad are ye' sure about this? Not to go mushin' or notin' like that but I have come to sort of a liken for ye. Tornado is a skilled fighter. He has always been good but now he is a mite dangerous now. He has no fear. Giving pain is his goal now not the sport."
"So I do not have to hold back. I can be as brutal as I wish? I would hate to fight against someone I had to be afraid of damaging."

"If your lookin' for a hard fight with no mercy look no further. Hope yae' know what your doin' lad. Erik I do think ye' might be as crazy as ole Tornado. I still have the name of your friend Nadir should ye' be in need of a doctor." Under his breath he said, "Or an undertaker."

There were four bouts ahead of Erik's and Tornado's. Erik watched the skills of the other fighters critiquing each man. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the man Ox had pointed out to him as his opponent. The man was a massive wall of solid muscle. He had two ham hocks for hands. Erik guessed his height to be about five inches taller than his own six feet four inches. He glanced over at Erik. He caught and held Erik's eyes. The look he gave Erik would have had a lesser man running and hiding. Erik returned his look measure for measure. Erik cowered from no one any longer.
In between bouts young men hurriedly spread saw dust over the floor of the ring. The sweat and blood made it hard to stand upright. The surface got slippery so it was covered with saw dust to give the fighters traction.

It was time for Erik to head over to the ring. His heart had started to pound. There was a thrumming sound in his ears. His body hummed with anticipation. This was how he felt in Persia and in the opera house when he was stalking an intended victim. The adrenaline began to course through his veins.

"Erik a bit of advice before ye' face off in the ring. If ye' can manage to no' get yourself killed in the first five minutes ye' might have a wee chance of at least leavin' the ring with all your bits and pieces. He'll come out hard and strong. He usually hammers his opponent in the first few minutes. He may be big but he does no' have a strong constitution. For all his muscle he will no' be able to last more than four or five rounds. Hit hard then dance away a bit. Keep him chasin' after ye'. Keep jabbin' then steppin' away. Too many hits of his fists to your body would no' be good in any man's thinkin'. If ye' can stay away from him and no' go to meet your maker within that time I say ye' have a wee chance of takin’ the dirty bastard."

Having listened to Ox give his advice Erik was now headed into the ring. He observed his opponent bouncing toward the ring punching his fists out in front of him jabbing an imaginary opponent. Erik wondered if he should attempt this display. Deciding he would feel foolish he would forego that part of boxing.

Erik heard his name called just as he reached the ring. Before he could turn Ox approached him hitting him hard on the back. Erik was nearly knocked to his knees. Erik's first impulse was to hit him back, hard. He then realized it was a friendly tap on the back. Or at least what Ox considered a friendly tap on the back. He had seen other men do the same to a fighter headed for the ring. He appreciated the fact that Ox treated him just as he would another man. Erik did not quite smile but he did nod his head once before heading for the ring.

Erik removed his shirt first. The women closest to the ring sucked in their breaths. Not only because of all the scaring across his back but because of the magnificent specimen of manhood he represented. With his partially handsome face coupled with his magnificent body many of the women were all but salivating in anticipation. He removed his gloves. The last thing he removed was his mask. He turned around to hand his mask to Ox along with his shirt and jacket he had placed on the ropes of the ring in front of him. Erik heard the gasps around him. Whether from fear, disgust or approval he did not know nor did he care. Looking around at some of the other more experienced fighters he saw many who looked much worse physically than he did. Huge bulbous noses, enlarged ears, scars too numerous to count adorned the other men in different degrees of ugliness. Alongside some of them Erik looked like a Casanova or as he preferred Don Juan. Yes, in this crowd of mangled boxers he could easily be Don Juan.

Erik's penchant for being able to handle pain served him well. Tornado did just as Ox said he would. His fists flew so quickly at Erik's head and body he had little chance to avoid some of the heaviest blows. He would not have avoided them by running away in any case. Erik did not just stoically stand and let the man hit him again and again. His fists connected solidly with the man's jaw and eyes. At each opening Erik took advantage to pound several gut wrenching blows to his opponents midsection. Bout after bout Erik held his own. Not once did Erik fall to the floor. He withstood each blow while returning with his own attacks. Tornado was beginning to wear down just as Ox had said. He staggered when Erik's punches found vulnerable areas on his body. His hands dropped down giving Erik the opportunity to pound him in the chest and face. Both of Tornado's eyelids were split starting to swell shut. He was blinded by the blood flowing freely into his eyes. A small trickle of blood trailed from his left ear. His nose was dripping blood as if it were a water tap. Erik felt sure they would call the fight. Erik felt certain the man had a busted ear drum and broken nose. Tornado's stagger became more pronounced.
The bell rang after the fifth round. Erik felt the fight should have been stopped after the fourth round. Erik was beating the man senseless. Letting Ox wipe his face he drew in much needed oxygen. He gratefully took the cup filled with water. Ox warned him not to drink. He was only to swish the water then spit it out. A disgusting thing as far as Erik was concerned. Not something he would normally do. Swishing the water he spat into the bucket Ox put in front of him.

"Ox why do they let us continue? It is clear Tornado can not fight adequately. He can barely stand. To continue is pointless. Anyone with eyes can see he is barely conscious."
"I told ye' afore Erik. This is no place for rules or sympathy. They want a knock out or worse. The fight will no' be stoppin' until one of ye' fine gents is holdin' down the ground. Remember there be no rules here ceptin' the rule of kill or be killed. So to speak. If you do no care to continue might I suggest ye' lay the bugger out?"
By the end of the sixth round Tornado barely made it out of his corner. Erik had been toying with him since the last half of round four. He did not want to end it too soon so he held back until the last of the fifth round. In the last few minutes of the fifth round he had pummeled the man senseless. In a legal match the bout would have been called after the fifth round. This was the sixth round. The thrill of victory had begun to wain as the man staggered hardly able to return Erik's punches. Thinking over his conversation with Ox Erik decided it was time to end it. The man could not take much more and leave the ring breathing. This was supposed to be just a way to channel his anger not take another's life in needless violence.

A couple of good strong hits to the midsection and Tornado bent over holding his stomach. He gasped trying to catch his breath. Erik could tell the man was finished. He would not be coming back for more any time soon. Erik heard the chants for him to finish him off. They wanted more blood. The little trickle running from the side of Erik's mouth did not assuage their bloodlust. Erik's eye was bleeding. This was not enough. The mass of blood coming from Tornado did not satisfy them. They wanted a total knockout. They wanted to see a man down in the blood spattered sawdust. Reluctantly Erik grabbed the man by his hair and lifted his head. He drew his fist back bringing it forward into the soft flesh of Tornado's broken nose for the second time. Blood spurted out over Erik's chest. Erik had broken his opponents nose in round four now it was pulverized. The big man staggered a few steps then fell to the ground. He had lost consciousness. Erik took no pride in felling the man even though he knew if things were reversed the man would have gloried in his defeat.

The sight of the blood brought a frenzy of clapping and shouts of approval. Erik had never won approval from anyone publicly before. The masses had never thought him worthy to be a part of their species let alone give him approval for anything. It was a heady drug. Erik felt its power. He lifted his arms in victory and the crowd cheered. He had won. Not only the bout but the approval of all those people out there looking at him without judging him for his face. They saw only the man not the face that needed covering with a mask to hide the monster within. He took little pride in the defeat of the man but he did crave the approval of the crowd. If he could have one without the other he would perhaps find another way to dispel his demons.

In this arena he could allow his hidden monster free reign. The beast could be loosened from his chains. This could be his outlet for all the pent up anger and frustrations he suffered with no way to release the emotions that Nadir or society considered acceptable. This was raw, unrestrained brutality but it was accepted even by the noblest classes. Erik did not have any delusions of grandeur. He knew that outside the four walls of this barn he would still be either ignored or ostracized. In this arena of strength against strength he would hold their esteem. No doubt they would like to have him in their home for conversation value alone if they could have excepted him as he was. It would not occur as they would not openly acknowledge beyond these four walls that they delighted in this brutal sport. Even bet on the winners ridiculing the losers.
Erik's chest was heaving as he struggled to regain his breath. His knuckles ached. He hoped he had not damaged his hands. He looked down and saw the bruising already forming on his hands. His joints were already beginning to swell. His ribs were beginning to look like a dark rainbow in shades of black and blue. It hurt when he inhaled deeply. He had either cracked a rib or broken one.

Somewhat satisfied with his first fight Erik went home to face Nadir's criticism. He would no doubt have much to say to Erik concerning fighting for the express purpose of beating another senseless or being beaten senseless. If he was in luck Nadir would have gone to bed.

Since Erik did not have much good luck in anything other then making money he should have known Nadir would be awake and ready to pounce on him.
Quietly he opened the front door. He did not want to awaken Darius or Nadir if they had by some miracle gone to bed. Stealthily he crossed the foyer. He had just placed his right foot on the bottom step when he heard a voice call out from the darkened living room.

"Do not think you can sneak in without facing me. I would like for you to explain why you snuck out without Darius and I. Even though I do not appreciate the sport Darius and I were willing to accompany you." He reached out and turned on the lamp on the small end table at the end of the couch.

"Allah above. Erik did you get attacked again? Let me get the medical kit. The offer of some ice would be not be amiss I would wager." Erik looked as if he had been chewed then spit out.

When Nadir left Erik slumped in the chair that sat across from where Nadir had been sitting only moments ago. His muscles were starting to protest the recent brutal treatment they had received. He knew he had to face Nadir's censure but he did not feel up to it right at this moment. He would give his right arm not to have to listen to another lecture as if he were a schoolboy. For God's sakes he was a mature man. He made his own decisions and life choices. Why did he always feel so damn uncomfortable when he knew he had earned Nadir's displeasure?

Nadir came back into the living room carrying a larger basket than usual. Their were several rolls of heavy bandages. It would seem Nadir anticipated Erik's injuries. He sat the basket down beside the chair and took his seat. He sat back and folded his hands together resting them in his lap. He let his glance travel over each bruise he could see. His mouth tightened in annoyance.

"So how was your night being beaten to a pulp? Was it worth the pain? Have you gained some new insight while participating in this barbaric sport? I hope you have not damaged your cranium. Lord knows I have begun to think you have lost your ability to think properly. Did you not suffer enough abuse in your past? Now you have to seek it out? Encourage it even? At the rate you are going, in a few years you will not have enough grey matter left to produce coherent thought. Do not expect me to wait on you hand and foot if you become a drooling self defecating idiot. If all you want is a thorough beating I can hit you about the head with my umbrella or walking cane any time you wish. It would be my extreme pleasure. I am quite certain Darius would not mind bashing you a bit himself."

"Nadir I know you do not understand why I have to do this. I need this outlet. I have so much anger in me all the time. I do not know if you realize what a struggle it is for me to face each day. As hard as I fight it sometimes it is overwhelming. I no longer wish to hurt others who are innocent of nothing more than displeasing me. The men I fight in that ring have chosen to enter the ring for reasons of their own. They expect the violence as do I. Tonight I won. It was amazing. They were calling out for me in approval. No one turned away in disgust or horror at the first look at my face or the violence I did to the other man. We were mutual combatants. Evenly matched. The rush of power and acceptance is a very intoxicating feeling Nadir. You have always had these things. Acceptance. Respect. The ability to walk among fellow humans without fearing a beating or being ridiculed mercilessly for the simple fact that God decided to play a cruel trick and give you only half a face. Until you have been without these for many years you will not be able to understand how I feel."

"It isn't even about my loss of Christine any longer. I have all but given up on having her in my life. In fact I have come to suspect I had a narrow escape. Before you ask yes I would still welcome her. I still have love for her. When I think back on our association I realize that she must have known for a good while who I really was. It is not such a great leap from Angel of Music to Ghost to Phantom. After all how many spectres did she think there were in the opera house?"

Without speaking for a moment Nadir began to assess Erik's wounds. He picked up some cotton dousing it with antiseptic. Leaning forward he cleaned the cuts. Erik drew back hissing in pain from the sting of the medicine. Seeing the gash over Erik's eye Nadir sighed heavily. He turned and got the needle and thread. Threading the needle he asked if Erik wanted a drink before he started the repairs to his eyebrow. Erik declined. The cut required seven stitches. Erik's ribs were not broken but possibly cracked. Nadir wound the bandages tightly around Erik's upper chest to give support to the injured ribs.

"Please give your body time to heal before you allow it to be used as a bag for punching. The next time might I suggest you try to keep your face as far from his fist as you can. You can not afford any more scarring. Women are finding you attractive now but if you continue to earn scars on your face your looks could suffer."

"Nadir you and I both know I could look like Quasimodo and I would still be able to attract certain women. If nothing else I have learned that over the past two and a half years living in so called polite society. As long as my pockets are full and I am generous with my appreciation I will not lack for a companion when I need one."

"I have to concede that their will always be those types of women but would you rather not find one who liked you even if you had not one coin in your pockets?"

"Those women would run in the other direction if I so much as took one step toward them. I have heard the way everyone speaks about me at gatherings. My days as the shadow on the wall have served me well when I need information. Unfortunately I hear things I would just as soon have no knowledge of."

"Well if you stay out of the gaming halls and taverns with ladies who will entertain a man for under an American dollar you might find a more suitable woman. As for the way others speak of you I will agree that not all find you acceptable. I have discovered that for every one who finds you unsettling there is one or two who find you fascinating. Your problem is you give up the search and head for the easy pleasures. Not many wives can be found in a dance hall or gaming room."

"Have I said I was looking for a wife? Besides, for the next few months it will not matter. I have plans for the next few months. I shall be extremely busy. I have been in contact with a man in Virginia. His name is Daniel Montgomery. He has been widowed and remarried soon after his wife's death. His daughter was taken or killed in an Indian raid on the coach taking them to San Francisco. He has three stepchildren. Two girls and a boy. He needs an investor and I need his sponsorship into the local society. His family has been prominent in Richmond for over one hundred years. I will not bore you with all the details my detective sent to me. I do not know everything yet but I will. He is in need of money to keep his family finances from becoming critical. I have a report I wish you to read. I would value your opinion."

This was a surprise to Nadir. He thought at the very least Erik would kick up a fuss about relocating again. He had not made any real responses to Nadir's hints about New York not being the best place to make their permanent home. The political scandal in the city gave credence to Nadir's reasons for wanting to move. For the last six months he had been hinting about not liking this city. Darius had even begun to show his displeasure. Darius really did not like this city. He swore that nothing he planted in the garden grew as well or tasted as good as it had in France or England.

It took another four months to settle Erik's finances. It took a couple of months to pack everything up ready for transport to their new home. Erik had hired an agent to find his new home. Erik was so specific with his requirements that it took less time to find something suitable rather than looking over several estates. He settled for an old manor home just outside of Richmond. His whole household was backed and sent on ahead so the servants hired by his agent could set the house in order before he took up residence. Erik had already chosen the bedrooms for the three of them. Instructions were sent as to how each room was to be furnished. The last week before they left would be spent in a hotel waiting for the day of departure. They would travel by train from New York to Richmond, Virginia. A coach had been bought and a driver hired to pick them up at the train station and then take them on the next leg of their journey.

The last leg of Erik's journey had been set in motion. He would soon meet his future. His fated other half. He could either embrace it or turn away from it. Fate had set the course for him. All he had to do was follow through. Obstacles would be thrown in his path. For Erik's sake it was hoped he could pass over the temptations then embrace a life more rewarding than anything he could imagine. He just had to be able to recognize the floss from the flotsam.
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Ascent to Power