The Art of Manipulation || Phantom of the Opera & Loki the God of Mischief ||

18. The Angel In Hell

Picture credit to the fabulous Murinin007 on Deviantart!

Chapter Eighteen || The Angel In Hell

"And though it's clear, though it was always clear that this was never meant to be. Will you promise me that sometimes, you will think of me." ~ Think of Me from The Phantom of the Opera the Musical

~*~

Mojlnir hummed in excited recognition when it heard me say it's name. Splashing to my left and heavy footsteps of a warrior brought a broad smile to my face, "Thor!"

His face serious and set for battle, Thor came directly over to me and gently held my shoulders, "I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner. We had to find a way to go back in time and once we did, we had to find you in France." He paused, his lips piercing and his breath audibly entering his body through his flared nostrils. Then, scowling at a gash on his arm, he said, "And then we had to make it through all the booby traps."

Laughing lightly, I said, "I'm just glad you're here."

A smile tugged at his full lips, the fierce look in his blue eyes softening before he asked, "Are you alright?"

I nodded, exhausted tears threatening to spill over and causing a crack in my voice, "I'm alright now."

Pushing some hair away from my face, he said, "Good." And then a grunt from the wall called his attention.

With a hardened face, Thor walked over to where Heimdall was already standing. Lifting his right arm he summoned Mjlonir, who obediently went to his hand with a mighty jwing!

Now free from the hold of the mighty hammer, Loki fell to the floor, coughing up blood and rock. When he saw Thor hovering over him, he scrambled back into the hole his body created, his voice raising an octave, "Thor!"

The smile still on my face and my eyes still watching the reunion, I spoke over my shoulder to where I assumed Erik was doing the same, "It's over, Erik. We're safe." As I turned to face him I said, "You're free-" My sentence was cut short once my eyes fell on open space instead of the man I had been speaking to. 

My eyes dropped to the floor, the first place my instinct told me to look. Seeing the body on the cold ground, I lost all feeling, my hand flying to my mouth to cover my gasp, "No. No, no, no. Oh, God, no!" The flesh on my knees ripped open as I fell to the floor beside Erik's limp form. "No!" I flipped Erik onto his back, rolling him towards me. The sheet music he laid on shuffled with the movement, the blood from where Loki's blast hit him seeping into the yellow parchment. Sobbing, I desperately shook him, "Oh, God, please! Erik, talk to me!" Wrapping my left arm around his shoulders, I moved him onto my lap, a few pages of sheet music sticking to him due to the blood.

The wound on his side bleed profusely, oozing out like a steady stream and dampening my own garments. Opening his shirt wider, I examined the wound, hovering my hand over it and willing my magic to fix it. The edges of the hole in his chest glowed blue, the flesh edging closer and then shriveling away when my energy failed me, mocking me. "No! Come on, Alouette! What use are you if you can't even mend this one wound?!" I tried again, and again, receiving nothing but the same.

I placed my hand over his heart, straining to hear it's once strong and steady beat. It thumped faintly, taking more than three seconds to repeat that same dull thump. I furiously wiped the tears that blurred my vision and got in the way, spreading Erik's blood across my face as I did so.