Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

The Silent Wish	By : LaurieBaker Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 14631 -:- 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
- 21
- 22
- 23
Warning: This chapter has N/C and Violence

---------------------

As Katherine returned home, she thought of what excuses she should make to Luciano for her delayed absence. She hated lying to her husband, but this was simply too important. Their daughter’s happiness for the rest of her life was at stake. And if the Phantom was to abduct Aurora tonight, she would have to be prepared to tell quite a lot of falsehoods before all was said and done.

But before that happened, she needed to get to Aurora and prepare her. She wanted her to know that her lover was going to come for her and she should be ready for anything. She wanted to apologize for not having been the attentive mother that she should have been over the years. She wanted to let Aurora know that no matter what had transpired between her and the Phantom, that she would always love her daughter and never judge her too harshly. Perhaps, they could even use this as a means to bridge the gap between them that had transpired over the years.

Yet, all of her hopes were dashed before she even began.

She entered the house, finding only Luciano, sitting by his chessboard and sipping a cognac.

“There you are, my dear,” he smiled. “I was worried about you. It is unlike you to be out so late.”

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she recited. “I was horribly detained at the dressmaker’s. As it is, I must see Aurora right away and get her approval on my dress.”

Standing up from his chair, Luciano reached for her, looking rather odd.

“I am afraid it is too late for that, sweet,” he said with a bowed head.

“What do you mean?”

Moaning with irritation, he began to pace about the room.

“I am sorry, my dear, I wanted you to be present but the Baron was so impatient that there simply wasn’t time to wait for you any longer…”

“Luciano,” Katherine started tentatively. “What are you saying?”

“Aurora and the Baron have married already. She is already living with him at his townhouse as his wife.”

“Dear God, Luciano,” Katherine gasped in horror. “What have you done?”

---------------------

How had things deteriorated into such a wretched state?

Aurora had not even been allowed one more night of precious freedom. Of course, the Baron had taken advantage of the situation to weasel his way further into her father’s good graces, convincing him to allow them to marry this very night. All the quicker for him to get his hands on the family fortune, she thought bitterly. But then she realized that as long as his hands were reaching for money and not her, she should be grateful.

Yet, as they stood side by side in the sitting room of the Sorelli Mansion, exchanging emotionless words before the clergyman, Aurora felt very uncomfortable as the Baron seemed to leer at her during the entire ceremony. He was in great haste for them to return to his townhouse, not even wanting to participate in her father’s celebratory toast to their happiness.

It was just as well, Aurora thought to herself as she placed her valise down upon the bed in the room that they were meant to share now as a couple. There was no happiness to be had at any rate.

Aurora had not cried or had a tantrum during the wedding. What would be the point? She had already felt as if she had been humiliated beyond belief, being treated more like a sale of goods than a human being. But she had her own pride and dignity to think of. She would not give the Baron the satisfaction of seeing her beg to be free.

The sound of thunder in the air made her jump. Well, it was a good night for a storm, she thought with depression. It suited her mood. She wished a violent tempest would wipe all of Paris off the earth.

Sitting down upon the bed with an overwhelming feeling of bleakness, Aurora stared about the room. It was obviously the bedroom of a bachelor who had not expected to marry so soon. There was clothing strewn about haphazardly on the floor. A nightstand covered with shaving utensils and a wash basin. She even noticed with some disgust a few empty wine bottles in the corner of the room. In fact, the entire townhouse had an appearance of disarray. She could discern the tell-tale traces of previous debauchery about: the sight of empty wineglasses, the smell of cheap perfume…

Really, he could have made some attempt to accommodate her if he was so anxious for a wife! At the very least, he could have made a token effort to appear respectable.

Her throat tightened as she heard his footsteps at the front of the bedroom door.

“Ah, my little bride awaits me on my bed. How sweet!”

She did not dignify his cruel comment with a response.

“Are you as eager as all that to consummate our union?”

“Basil,” she stated, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Let us be honest with each other for once and discuss this matter rationally. I am not attracted to you in any way and you do not seem so fond of me either. Surely, you do not want to force a woman who does not want you. You have succeeded in marrying into the fortune that you wanted. Why don’t we just leave it at that? There is no need for things to become unpleasant. We can just go our separate ways, even in name only as husband and wife.”

With a chuckle, Basil walked towards her.

“What a reasonable suggestion,” he said with a dashing smile.

Aurora had almost hoped she had talked some sense into him before he backhanded her viciously across the face. She screamed, clutching at her cheek. No one had ever raised a hand to her before! Not ever!

“You are in no position to give orders or suggestions now,” he snarled. “You are my wife and shall do as I say!”

Aurora cowered on the bed, shivering from shock. To her horror, she saw him begin to work at undoing his leather belt.

“I imagine you probably like it a little rough, don’t you?” he taunted. “Despite your virginal white wedding gown and your stuck up airs, don’t forget that I know all about you! I doubt that Phantom fellow was all hearts and flowers, was he?”

She felt the tears sting at her eyes, not just from his beating but from his mention of Erik. How dare this pig ever mention her lover!

“Of course, I know that I shall have no virgin bride as is the right of every man,” he continued. “Undoubtedly you have given what was rightfully mine to that depraved creature.”

Brutally, he grabbed at her so swiftly that she didn’t even see him coming. He forced her face down upon the bed, yanking up her wedding dress and ripping off her lacy pantalettes, exposing her buttocks. He forced his fingers into her dry vagina, making her shriek in pain. The more she struggled, the more cruelly he held her, overcoming her with brute strength.

“Just as I thought…” he said, feeling the lack of a maidenhead. Although she could not see him, the sneering was obvious in his tones. “You always were a willful little spoiled brat. Now you shall get what you’ve had coming for a long time!”

There was a whoosh of air before the leather of his belt slashed across her backside. Her throat was starting to hurt from the intensity of her screams. She had always known that he would be a wretch of a husband, but she had no idea just how truly monstrous he was. Not only was he a blackmailer, but apparently a sexual deviant. No wonder he was in such a hurry to get her alone so quickly. On and on, he lashed at her buttocks with his belt. She had no way of knowing, but she was sure that he was drawing blood with his vicious attack. She tried so hard not to cry out and scream because somehow she knew that just made him more excited. But never had she experienced such rough treatment or pain.

“Still I imagine there is one part of you that is still virgin, isn’t there, sweetheart?”

At first, Aurora did not know what he was talking about. But when she felt his hands pull at her buttocks, prying them apart, she gasped in outrage and fear, never having even heard of such depravity before. Then he shoved a finger into that shameful spot, oblivious to her pained cries.

“Oh, yes, you are still nice and tight there, aren’t you, little bride?”

As he let go of her, presumably to free his manhood from his pants, she tried to rise up from the bed. But she was again pushed down hard into the mattress, the breath being knocked out of her as he placed a knee upon her back.

“This is going to hurt, little bride,” he threatened as he once again reached for her rear end. “And this is what you deserve for being such a whore.”

She felt his hands gripping at her buttocks, trying to spread them. And she raised her eyes upward, praying although she had never been particularly devout before. Yet now she pleaded for mercy from God as avidly as any nun in a convent. Praying that somehow she would find the strength to survive this perverse rape without going mad…praying to live…praying to die…praying for a miracle…

That was when she saw it. A straight-edged razor resting on his nightstand aside various shaving utensils.

Sheer panic and self-preservation goaded her on to twist out of his tight grasp, thrashing out with her legs. Luck was on her side as one of her heeled shoes seemed to strike in a very opportune spot at the front of his pants. With a roar, he punched her in the back hard but not before she eased towards the nightstand in a half crawl across the bed, just barely managing to clasp the razor. She felt him clasp at her hair and she grimaced at the pain as she wrenched about.

Turning towards him, she slashed out at his throat wildly, hearing the sickening sound of the razor slicing into his throat with deliberate purpose. His eyes rolled back. There was a gurgling noise from his throat.

In the back of her mind, she was aware that she had killed him. Yet it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough…

Everything seemed to go hazy and out of focus as she kept screaming and slashing, slashing and screaming, barely aware of the blood which began to drench her white gown.

----------------------------

After Katherine’s divulging of the information of Aurora’s upcoming forced wedding, Erik followed her on Cesar to the Sorelli mansion, waiting to plan how next to plan his move. He did not like operating in such an off-the-cuff fashion. He preferred to plan things out meticulously to the letter, to have all sorts of venues of escape and alternate actions to take if things were to go wrong. Which they often would…

Yet, that bitch Sophia had thrown everything off course with her big mouth! Erik was furious with that aging little prima donna ballerina. If she had not been Aurora’s sister and Katherine’s daughter, he would have killed her without a second thought. As it was, he could only deal with the hand that he was given, skulking about in the pouring rain, trying to come up with a reasonable method of attack.

Then out of the dark, he saw a woman cloaked in black leave the house. Aurora! His heart leapt in his throat.

Quickly, he cantered Cesar over to the woman. It was not Aurora but a very dismayed Katherine.

“It is too late!” she cried out. “They are already married!”

Erik felt nauseous.

Yet the angel before him handed him a small slip of paper. The Baron’s address.

“Thank you,” he could only manage to say softly, kissing fervently at her hand.

“Hurry!” she called out before running back to the manor. “Before it’s too late!”

Quickly, he rode through the storm, oblivious to the rain beating down on his hat and mask. Arriving at the address, he quickly alit from Cesar. Grimacing, he took off his leather glove and bunched it around his other gloved fist, punching a hole into the stained glass window of the front door. Truly, he hated such sloppy brute methods, he reflected as he snaked his arm carefully through the glass to unlock the door. Yet there was no time to do anything else.

Only guessing where the bedroom was located in this unfamiliar spot, Erik dashed up the stairs. The house was quite, unnervingly so.

Erik had been ready for anything. He had steeled himself for the possibility of seeing Aurora being raped by her husband. Even worse, he even thought he might walk in on her in the throes of orgasm under his enemy, possibly discovering that another man’s touch was not so horrid, which would have been disgusting but within the realm of possibility. Despite his newfound love, Erik could not entirely rid himself of cynicism.

Yet nothing prepared him for the sight of his love crouched over in the bedroom, rocking back and forth repeatedly in a bloody white gown, crying with a razor clenched in her hands. The Baron, or what used to be the Baron, lay on the floor at the edge of the bed, his face drenched in blood with his eyes open in wide shock and his throat torn and gaping…

He was indeed too late.
- 21
- 22
- 23
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Silent Wish