Chapter Text
Luck seemed to be in Erik’s favor tonight.
He had never been one to gamble, but the drunk man in front of him had been insistent - and rather inconvenient - in his search for an opponent, and Erik figured one round would do no harm. He would bet a couple coins, lose, and the troublesome fellow would walk away satisfied.
That was not what happened, however, and Erik had won six rounds in a row.
“Well, Monsieur, it has been a pleasure, however I must-”
“No! I demand a rematch. Ya know what they say, seven times’ a charm!”
Erik sighed. He had never heard such a thing, he was sure no one had, but disagreeing would take him nowhere.
“Fine. But this is my final bet, no matter the results. I have other matters to attend. Agreed?”
“Agreed”. The man proceeded to pat his pockets and started looking flustered.
“Is there a problem?”
“I, uh… Well, this is embarrassing, but it appears my money is gone…”
A wave of relief washed through Erik.
“Well, then, I guess we will need to save your rematch for some other time.”
“No! I’ll think of something, let me see, where the devil is that…”, the man started looking around the tavern. “There!”, he pointed to a fluffy grey cat in the arms of a girl. “I bet her.”
This man must have lost his mind. Offering his pet in gambling?
“But Monsieur-”
“She’s a useless little thing, I’m better off without her anyway.”
Erik contemplated the situation. The cat seemed fast asleep, and her lack of weight indicated that hunting was not one of her best abilities. The man’s filthy clothes also told him he barely took care of himself, let alone another being. And Erik had wanted a pet for a very long time…
“Deal.”
Time seemed to fly. Before Erik knew it, they had reached the final move, and all odds suggested that he would be taking the cat home in no time.
The man pulled a card that made things even better for Erik, who decided to act a bit embarrassed by another victory for this fool’s sake.
“Blimey”, the man slurred. “Well, I’m a man and a deal’s a deal. Christina! Come over here!”, he yelled.
The girl jumped up, her eyes wide, and hurried to them, still holding the cat.
“What are you doing with that beast, let go of it!”, he nearly ripped the cat from the girl’s arms and shoved her towards Erik. “Go. You’re not my problem anymore. Get the hell out of my sight!”
The animal, terribly offended for having his nap interrupted, hissed, jumped to the floor and walked away before Erik could wrap his head around what was happening and what exactly this drunkard had bet.
“What?”
“Monsieur, no! I can’t accept it, she’s…”
“A deal’s a deal, sir. We gave our words. He who wins, gets the girl. You won, there she is. Use it well.”
They watched as the inebriated fellow stumbled away.
“B-but the cat...”, Erik babbled uselessly.
“She’s not his”, the girl - what in the world was her name again? Christina? - said. “She belongs to everyone and no one. It’s just a street cat.”
“That’s a shame”, Erik muttered, and then turned to look at the girl in front of him.
She had blonde, curly hair, and big blue eyes. Her burgundy dress was visibly worn, but clean and well sewn. Erik noticed blue and purple bruises on her pale skin that were fading, and remembered the man’s final words.
Use it well .
Erik shuddered when he realized what that meant. He may be a demon but he would never submit a woman to such bestiality.
He glanced once more at the quiet girl next to him. What was he to do? He would not dare to hold an intoxicated man to his word in this situation, not when it involved his family, his daughter.
He couldn’t just leave her in the streets either, her bruises were proof of that, but certainly her father would go out looking for her once morning came, and Erik loathed to imagine the kinds of trouble that would put him into. He needed to avoid police authorities as much as he could.
Still, he reasoned, it was not safe to leave the poor girl alone, and his home wasn’t far away. He could bring her back, or even walk her to her house, early in the morning, when the daylight still isn’t too bright to endanger himself.
Yes, that would serve to ease his mind.
“You can come. If... If you want to”, Erik said, and turned around. He wouldn’t force the girl to follow him. She was free to run back home if she knew the way.
However, the rustle of fabric told him she had followed him dutifully.
Once they approached the entrance in Rue Scribe, Erik turned to her and hesitantly offered his arm.
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid we must… Stay close together. The corridors are dark and… It can be dangerous. I wouldn’t want any harm to fall upon you, mademoiselle.”
Much to his surprise, Christina smiled and placed her hand firmly on the crook of his arm. Little did he know she had not been treated like a person , let alone like a lady, in a very long time.
As they walked down, Erik silently thanked whatever deity had willed him to build the Louis-Phillippe room all those years ago. He didn’t know much about other people’s habits nowadays, but not much intelligence was needed to realize the girl would not appreciate having to sleep in a coffin, even if it was for a single night.
When they finally arrived at his home, he noticed Christina was in awe of her surroundings, and felt his chest swell with pride. Of course he couldn’t care less about what mankind thought of him and his doings, not after being continuously attacked, cursed and shunned, but being appreciated felt good.
“This will be your room”, he stated when he opened the door to the Louis-Phillippe. “I apologize if it is… Dusty. But I don’t use it often. This is the only key and I want you to keep it in your possession.”
“Where do you sleep?”
Erik froze for a second, but managed to deceive it and reply quickly: “In the room across the hallway. Should you need me, please knock on the door, or call me. Do not enter. Ever.”
She could catch him without his mask- unlikely, but still possible. She could see his coffin. The possibilities were endless and Erik knew better than to take any chances.
“What should I call you, then?”
“I am Erik.”
“Well, thank you, Monsieur Erik.”
“Goodnight, Mademoiselle.”
“Goodnight.”
He left and heard the door being locked behind him.