Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

The Dark Angel's Brothel	By : Faesy Category: M through R > Phantom of the Opera Views: 9470 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, Gaston Leroux does, and I do not make any money from creating this purely ficitonal piece of work.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
Erik had never seen Elise happier than the day she posed for her portrait. Her smile was captivating. She had been so excited, barely sitting still and squirming on the chaise lounge. It had been a birthday surprise, the painter turning up with his easel and the box with new lingerie tailored to fit her exactly. He had wanted to give her something she could take away from the brothel when the day came. He was in no rush for that day. Christine had left a hole in his heart that made his chest heavy and drove him to the pipe on some nights. While Elise could not possibly fill that hole, she covered it with her careful attention to him. She ran everything for him to his precise specifications, his shirts were laundered to perfection, the books and tips were arranged in a way to be fair to all parties and the house never went hungry. The house infact never wanted for anything, between the money and Elise everything was provided for always. When he had told her about the portrait she had leapt into his arms and smothered his face in kisses, an invasion into his personal space that only Elise could get away with. Ebony had fussed over her hair and make up to the point that the painter became annoyed and had Erik send her away. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he remembered the smouldering glare his domineering girl gave the painter that seemed to make him wither away behind his easel. He sat in his study, untouched pipe next to him as he stared at the portrait. Erik brushed his finger across the cheek of the painting and sighed
"Why? You were the jewel in my crown. You would have been happy, well looked after and pampered for the rest of your life. And now, nothing." His chest felt heavy beneath his grief.
The ceremony had been unnoteworthy, simple and small with just the staff and his girls. A grassy hill far beyond the urban sprawl of Paris, with meadows full of the spring flowers that she found so enchanting. Elise's room often contained a vase of freshly picked wildflowers, so fresh that they still glistened with morning dew and left a gentle scent that no perfume could replicate. The source of these flowers had been a point of playful back and forth between them, she denied knowledge of their appearance and he refused to believe they simply blinked into existence of a morning. She had been playfully spanked many times to try and get her to confess, even when presented with a tesimonial from the girl who picked them she claimed ignorance. He sighed as he relieved some of those moments, knowing they were firmly in the past.
Ebony and Helen had been strong for the sake of the younger girls. Leading the ceremony with a eulogy and simple poem that Erik wasn't paying attention to. At the request of his girls, the service was just after noon and the sun shone down the mourners with a kind of disrespect that Erik expected from daylight. Didn't the sun know that Elise had died? It should be raining, and hiding away behind clouds to reflect the mood but there it was, nonchalent and permanent. He shifted uncomfortably in the heat, a wide brimmed hat did little to keep the heat from his neck and the mask clung awkwardly to his face. Even out here in the day he wore a coat, cloak and carefully crafted leather boots, beneath which he was perspiring through his shirt. Elise always laundered his shirts perfectly, who would do that now?
Helen looked to him and nodded breaking him away from his personal reverie. Moving to the front he turned to his intimate group of followers and presented a single red rose from beneath his cloak.
"I am a man of few words. Elise, you were sweet and beautiful in every aspect of your being. It brings me great pain to see you in the earth before myself. I will avenge you." A small shiver went through the group as heleft the threat hanging in the air. All knew the capabilities of their employer and Master, this was no empty threat but a promise to be fufilled. Erik leant into the coffin, planted a chast kiss on the polished wood and whispered "I forgive you" before placing Erik a rose on the coffin which laid the precedent to others to lay their own offerings of wreaths made of wildflowers. While the girls and other female staff wept openly and clung to each other for support Erik's face remained stoic and unwavering. Even as the coffin was lowered into the ground he kept his emotions tightly restrained. He led the girls into thier own carriage and stepped into another to be alone with his thoughts while they were whisked back to the brothel. Only undergound in his study could he properly come to terms with his loss, the brothel would repoen in two nights with no room for dwelling on tragedy. He watched the sunlight filter through the clouds, creating a dappling effect on the wild grass that rippled in the breeze. Scowling at the picturesque view he grabbed the curtains and pulled them firmly shut, leaning back into the seat he plotted his revenge.
It was dark when he arrived back at the brothel, usually it would be working hours but instead the girls comforted each other in their dorm and told each other tales of Elise's better days. Opium had been giving Erik a wide berth since that night, sensing he needed his space she had moved into the dorm with the other girls. Reluctant to stay in Elise's room after all that had happened she was listening with rapt attention at a side of Elise that she had not been exposed to. The kind girl who had mentored many before Opium, who had nursed the Master when he locked himself in his study and refused to see anyone. She had been responsible for most of the day to day activities, the brothel needed her to function and now these roles were to be taken on by someone else. Helen was the obvious choice and she had already signalled to Erik that she was more than willing to assist where she could. All the girls harboured an affection for their Master that it was nothing to offer all of themselves in any way they could. If it was book keeping he needed or his shirts laundered to his demanding specifications, then it shall be done.
The girls were sitting on cushions on the floor, Ebony braiding Candy's hair while Helen told them a humerous story about when Elise made the Master laugh; a rarity indeed! They heard the son of one of the kitchen workers whom Erik had employed as messenger boy yelling for the Master and running through the halls. Opium ran out to the hallway and caught the boy by the scruff of his shirt.
"Now, what do you think you're doing making such a racket? Were the Master in his usual state he would whip you and leave you out on the street! Calm yourself and tell me what is worth risking a stroke of his whip?" Opium released the boys shirt, his chest heaving up and down as he struggled to catch his breath.
"Well Miss, we got him." he gasped out between ragged breaths. Opium gave him a puzzled look before her eyes widened in understanding
"Him. Gregory?" She put a hand to her mouth as the boy nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes Miss, him who went and shot Miss Elise." Opium put her finger at the boys lips and hushed him
"Who else have you told?" She asked in whispered tones
"No one else Miss, but the stable hands have the man in their custard."
"Custody." She absently corrected him. "Go back to your Ma and stay with her."
"Yes Miss." He dipped his hat to her respectifully and ran back in the direction from which he had barelled before.
Opium slipped back into the room where Ebony was entertaining the girls with another story of Elise's good character when Candy noticed the surprised look on Opium's face.
"What's wrong Opium?" She extended a hand to the girl which she took briefly before heading to a rack of robes and selected the nearest one.
"A boy just came to me and told me some news. He has been found. I need to deliver this news to the Master immediately." A low hum of chattering came back from the girls as they reacted to the news they knew would be coming. Helen stood up and kissed Opium on the cheek,
"Then go, you musn't keep this from him." Opium nodded in agreement
"Of course, it'd be best if we kept out of his revenge as much as possible. I suggest we stay in here, I will return after I tell him." Her words were met with general affirmation and she slipped back out, running silently down the hall on barefeet to her Master's study.
She knocked on his door and called out to him immediately
"Master, I know you said not to be disturbed but I have news." Without pausing for a reply she continued with her message, " He has been found, he's being held at our stables by our men." She heard the metallic clink of his pipe as it rolled from the table, disturbed from its perch and hit the stone floor. There was a brief pause and the heavy door was ripped open. In the doorway stood her Master, weighed down heavily by his grief. His usually pristine appearance forgotten, his eyes bloodshot, shirt creased, stained and half tucked with his cuffs hanging loosely from his wrists. In one hand he gripped a black leather bag so tightly his knuckles were white and shaking minutely. He issued only one command before he strode off towards the stables;
"Come."
--------------------------------
Only two chapters left now, oh faithful readers. I've been busy with my final year at uni and preparing for my new full time job next year, so many apologies. I had the skeleton draft for this story and was almost done with it when I got a new computer and through a rookie mistake lost the remainder of this story. However, I got a review notification today which spurred me to write a new chapter straight off the cuff, I still have the general plot of the story in my head so hopefully I can finish this soon!
Puddinpocalypse
- 15
- 16
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 Dark Angel's Brothel