ERIK'S JOURNAL - SEQUEL TO THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

So happy to see EriksComposer and Slitherliggie once again. Thank you for the kind words. You make my day when you let me know how much you enjoy the story.

Yes, it is getting closer to the end. The next chapter is a little longer.

Please R&R. Enjoy!

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CHAPTER 85

Sidewalk Café -Le Champs Elysées

Several days past after the Polyphemus indent at the Luxembourg gardens. The memory of the shadow emerging from the portal appeared as a dream to the crowd and security since Phantom Doone worked his magick to save the group from harm.

Currently Doone pondered the event as he sat alone at a table in one of the noted sidewalk cafés of Le Champs Elysées. Whatever came from the portal vanished when Doone cast a spell to create a veil over the memory and eyes of the park patrons and security. What was the shadow? Many things wander the ‘in between’ of dimensions. Very few actually escape into the real world, but only if aided by someone in the our world. In other words, someone had summoned the thing.

Over and over again he thumbed through his journal hoping to find something he’d miss. Too bad he didn’t document everything in detail, but somehow he knew he had a very good reason not to. Right now, those details would prove very, very helpful indeed. Traveling back and forth from dimension to dimension caused a drain in what the mind can retain. The mortal body is not strong enough to sustain such power.

At this, something occurred to him. A mortal does not have the strength or stamina physically or mentally to entertain the power or knowledge of a god. Not yet anyway. Love could be another factor. The current Phantom found himself as a bit of a romantic, but love is very powerful. These two factors may be the Achilles’ heel he needed.

A waiter interrupted him briefly to bring him some hot water. As soon as the waiter left, Doone reached into the inside pocket of his Victorian coat and drew out a small pouch of herbs. After opening it, he took a couple of pinches and dropped them into the cup of hot water. These special herbs would help to give him a calm, clear mind.
Quietly, Raoul le Vicomte de Chagny approached dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, trying to blend in, unlike Phantom Doone, who still looked like he walked out of a Charles Dickens’ novel or truly out Gaston Leroux’s The Phantom of the Opera.

Doone looked from his journal. Raoul pulled out a chair. “May I?” he asked. Doone nodded.

After seating himself, Raoul continued, “We have to talk. This impending battle upsets my entire neurological system.”

Doone’s reply came as a puzzled stare. After cautiously looking around to make sure not to be heard, Raoul went on, “I am terrified.”

“That’s because you don’t know what to expect. The wait is always worse than the event.” Doone tried to keep a steady hand and hide the tremor from his voice.

“We don’t know where or when this battle will ensue. How can you be so calm?”

“Expect the unexpected. Have some tea?” With a wave of his hand, the current Phantom hailed the waiter. The waiter arrived at their table almost immediately. Doone ordered more hot water and then some pastries for a snack.

After the waiter brought the hot water and pastries he scurried away like a frightened rat. Perhaps he felt the tension as well.

Once again Doone opened the pouch and took out a couple of pinches of herbs and sprinkled them into the hot water. Then he closed up the pouch and returned it to the inside pocket of his coat.

Gingerly, le Vicomte picked up the cup and sniffed the warm aroma of the tea. “What is this?”

“Something to help relax you. Clear your head. Calm the mind.” Phantom Doone sipped his warm drink.

“Smells like warm, wet grass,” Raoul said wrinkling up his nose.

Doone smiled and said nothing. His mind wandered off to the impending battle. Maybe he should have documented the details. At the moment, he felt the survivors of the Titanic waiting in lifeboats; waiting for a rescue, waiting to live, or waiting to die.

For a brief moment, he pulled out the Spear, trying to conceal it under the table and tablecloth. How could this metal relic assure one’s destiny? Or heal, for that matter? Could it even restore life? These thoughts crossed his mind.

After removing the poison tipped rose-shaped tiepin from his tie, Doone replaced the cap on the sharp point and handed it to Raoul. Le Vicomte recalled the deadliness of this beautiful piece of jewelry.

Shaking his head, Raoul refused the pin saying, “I told you I will not kill my friend!”

“Not for me. When I give the order use it on who I point out,” came the reply.

“What?”

“I no longer desire to die. Odd as this may seem, I have other plans that include remaining alive.”

Raoul gave a sigh of relief and took the pin. He wanted to understand why, but didn’t pursue the questions. Instead he asked, “Aren’t we going to discuss strategy?”

“No strategy. Use what you learned from when you were in the French navy and from helping me on my quest. Do whatever you and Hathor discussed and don’t die. That’s the most important thing don’t die. Magick can be unstable due to many factors. Everything must be precise or something could go terrible wrong. Say a prayer, mon ami,” Phantom Doone finished and gave a long sigh and put away the Spear. Then he finished his tea and took the last bite of his pastry.

“Mon ami, eat something. You will need every ounce of strength do survive and win.” Doone urged his friend.

Just as Raoul picked up his sweets to take a bite, someone shadowed their table. Looking up, both le Vicomte and the current Phantom got a shock. There dressed in clothes of the present day, stood the real Erik, the true Opera Ghost. For a second, he almost looked like the good, old Erik they all knew and cared about. Almost…

“May I join you?” Erik smiled but his eyes began to blaze like tiny embers. Doone and Raoul nodded. After Erik took a seat he ticked a look to each man. For a moment no one said a word. No one expected the opposition to enter quietly and have a seat.

At the sight of the true Opera Ghost the waiter shuddered and cringed. Something inside let him know that something dreadful would happen. Erik ordered a café cognac. All eyes turned to Erik, since they’d never known him to consume spirits.

“I trust you fellows are a well as can be expected?” came the question. No one said a word. Beads of sweat formed on Raoul’s forehead as the rest of him grew strangely cold.

The waiter returned and sat the café cognac before Erik, bowed and hurried away.

“ I know the wait to die must be taking a toll on both of you, therefore I have come to make an offer. Raoul, le Vicomte de Chagny, I would like you to join my army. With your military training you would make a fine commander. You see, after I defeat your Phantom friend I will then become totally immortal and with the Lance of Longinus or the Spear of Destiny as some call it, I will be unstoppable. At that point, I will make you immortal and I will give you any woman you desire. Or as many women you desire.” Erik finished to sip his drink.

Doone said nothing. Raoul became less afraid and little more angry. “How dare you make such a proposal with my friend sitting right here.”

“There is nothing to hide. We all know that he cannot give me the Spear. And I cannot give him the Staff. One of us has to die,” came the nonchalant retort.

After another sip of his drink, Erik continued, “We can make this all very quick and save everyone a lot of pain and time. Monsieur Opera Ghost, I politely request that you allow me to kill you quickly or you may chose to do it yourself. Either way, I shall claim the victory.”

At first Phantom Doone said nothing. Raoul’s face turned a shade of scarlet as anger welled up in him. “Erik, have you no heart? No feelings?”

“Please, please my dear Vicomte. We are all educated men. We all know that any politician, monarch, president and especially a god can only gain power by destroying the opposition. One cannot lament the causalities of war.

After all, Monsieur Opera Ghost, you have desired to meet Death for a very long time. I merely suggest the means. What would you do with ultimate, unlimited god-like powers? You have suffered much in mortal. Lay that aside and accept that eternal sleep that awaits you.” The words fell heavy on Doone’s ears. The battle had begun. From this moment on nothing would be the same.

From a short distance, Doone could see two familiar male figures, Philippe and Hamilton with that infernal grin. Opposite them a misty figure rode into view on Bayard the enchanted horse that nearly killed him and Raoul.
A little above them a strip of time ripped away as a portal opened with the same eerie figure shadowing the doorway.

This time, Doone turned to Erik and asked, “Where is Mae? I she well or have you killed her?”

The demeanor of the pharaoh/god changed. His features distorted at the sound of his wife’s name.

“Come, come now Erik, that was a simple question. Is Mae alive? How is she?” Doone pushed the issue.

This time the pharaoh/god brought down his fist on the demitasse that once held his drink. Smatterings of bits and pieces flew everywhere. Doone and Raoul had to move back and stand up, shielding their faces with their hands.

Mixed feelings flooded Erik’s mind. The tiny ounce of what was left of his old self longed for his wife’s tender kiss and warm embrace, while the maddening powers of a maniacal deity ranted and raved that he should not weaken to the power of love.

Le Vicomte surveyed their surroundings. Literally they were surrounded. He ticked a look to the reigning Phantom, who gave him a nod. Without a word, Raoul stared into his tea, which served as a reflective surface and disappeared. He knew what he must do.

Doone backed away a little. The time had come.

And so it begins... I wonder if the power of love will prevail in the end...



Please do continue again soon, my friend, I await at the edge of my seat, once more.


D

Oooh, Erik totaly WIGGED OUT! (for want of a better term) Keep going, it's getting so tense!

Thank you, thank you Slitherliggie and EriksComposer. You've both made my day.

It's getting down the the wire. This is the countdown to the grand finale.

Please R&R the next chapter. Enjoy!

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CHAPTER 86

Sidewalk Café -Le Champs Elysées

Once again Phantom Doone looked around. The portal open in mid-air displayed the shadowy figure in the doorway. Bayard pawed the ground as the mist formed itself on his back. The Lady in White soon made herself known as empty hollows stared back at him. Calmly Erik sat back in his chair to watch his opponent squirm.

“Time to die mon ami. Would you prefer I help you along, or would you rather go down fighting? Just know that whatever you killed in your quest is not truly dead and can be summoned at will, my will.” A creepy, sardonic smile crept across Erik’s face.

In a moment, the Minotaur, part bull part man, appeared in a shimmer of light. A nearby topiary of a dog morphed into the Anubis creature towering over him with the head of a jackal the body of a man and then morphed again to Cerberus the three head dog of Greek mythology.

The thundering sound of heavy footsteps rumbled as something bent trees, broke branches and overturned chairs and tables to make its appearance. Polyphemus, the Cyclops, no longer a sculpture, now made flesh, glared at Phantom Doone with its one wild-eye. A hideous roar escaped its lips, sending a chill though anyone and everyone in earshot, especially Doone. Truly, he didn’t want to fight these monsters. The thought of more pain and blood loss sickened him. But now he faced the moment of truth. Only one would win.

With concern for the innocents of the real world that would undoubtedly perish in the skirmish, Doone looked around for a reflective surface bigger than a demitasse. Suddenly he took off in a direction away from the monsters and their crazy leader and headed them, hopefully away from the crowds of tourists and locals that flock to this most popular area.

Not too far away, a fountain stood, filled with a number of sculptures from the sea. With water spouting out from various parts, it would serve its purpose to have the creatures of doom follow him into a vortex into the in between or beyond.






Upon reaching the fountain, the current Phantom halted and uttered a spell in Latin to open the vortex.

“Pateret aditus ad medium. Patitur bestias tenebris ad vidente sequi. (Open the way to the in between. Allow the beasts of darkness to follow unseen.)” As soon as the last word fell from his lips something like a whirlpool appeared swirling the water around and around. The fetid breathe of the monsters fell hot and heavy at the back of his neck. Without hesitation Phantom Doone jumped into the whirlpool. In seconds, each evil thing that had followed also plunged into the vortex.

This made Erik frown, as he had not anticipated Doone leading the monsters out of the real world. He had envisioned the battle to be fought in a stable, normal dimension. This would limit Doone and provide more lives to be at stake, a bargaining chip if you will. Cursing under his breath, he turned and shimmied away as the whirlpool vanished, returning the fountain to gentle waters.

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Philippe le Comte de Chagny sat with Hamilton the gun-toting reporter at a small sidewalk café at Montmartre a stone’s throw from Le Basilica de Sacré Coeur.





Dozens of artists sat in front of easels painting their masterpieces. Philippe sipped wine as Hamilton chatted on his cell phone.



In mid-sentence, Hamilton stopped talking and Philippe nearly choked on his wine. There before them stood Erik still dressed in present day attire.

“My apologies messieurs. I did not wish to startle. May I join you?” Erik gave a lopsided smile. Speechless, Philippe offered him a chair. After he took his seat, once again Erik hailed the waiter and ordered another café cognac. When the waiter left, the pharaoh/god turned to the men and made his proposal.

“There isn’t much time and so I shall state my business. I would like you to ally with me in obtaining the Lance of Longinus. Join my army and I will give you immortality and more riches and power than you could ever imagine. Philippe, you will be my general and give commands as I would.

Hamilton, you will be my captain and help lead me to victory. My opponent must be crushed, but make sure that he is utterly destroyed along with whoever or whatever assists him. Take no prisoners and grant no mercy.

I need men without conscience, with no consideration for others and no hesitation in annihilating the competition. Are you with me?” The pharaoh/god concluded his proposal.

The two men couldn’t believe their ears. At last they were back in the mix, but total annihilation? Hamilton hesitated before saying anything. Hastily, Philippe agreed. This show of cold-blooded, heartlessness was just what he was looking for. Power and riches beyond his wildest dreams… he would do anything for it…even total annihilation.

So, finally Phillipe shows his inherent and total evil... what will Hamilton do? I do not believe he is capable of such cruelty... Am I right, or is it just wishful thinking?? Good on Doone for taking the Beasts into the in between! I'm glad he has the upper hand at the moment.


Cannot wait for the next installment, my friend! Please do continue again soon...


D

Thank you Slitherliggie. Always good to see you.

We are getting closer to the end. Here is the next chapter. Please R&R. Enjoy!


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CHAPTER 87

The In Between

Some call the in between purgatory or oblivion. Some liken it to a fairytale land of monsters, myths and magick. Others describe it as a fiery inferno or a bottomless pit. What Phantom Doone now experienced looked and felt more like a horror movie come to life or a nightmare where the dreamer never wakes up.

Creatures gurgled, growled and howled in the distance and a few too close for comfort. The narrow path pulsed with a dim yellow light as the current Opera Ghost made sure his feet stayed firmly on the walkway before him. Multiple footsteps mimicked his as various sounds of skittering, slithering and dragging echoed from around him in the dimness.

Quickly he made tracks to the nearest portal. No mortal could remain inside the in between for long without suffering mental and physical agony. Only monsters, ghosts and whatever goes bump in the night could stay for any length of time without consequence.

A dim glow popped up in the distance. Where it led to didn’t matter. He felt cold all over. The kind of cold one gets on a night where trees and ponds freeze solid; where ice burns to the touch and the air stabs the lungs so hard it’s almost unbearable to breath.

A shadow passed before the portal that looked much like a doorway of glass. Crowds of people walked to and fro passing buildings and horse drawn carriages. Their clothes looked much like the early 20th Century. If only he could go there for a few minutes he would be able to maneuver the monsters to a dimension of unspeakable horror, one more suited for them. Presently, he’d have to be very careful not to unleash these nightmares on any dimension that resembles the real world or its history.

As Doone tried to make it through the portal, something grabbed his arm with the grip of a vice, throwing against something solid. Maybe a tree or a wall, but whatever it was, body contact with it rattle his poor brain, and definitely bruised and lacerated his back and shoulders. By now, his entire body ached. A warm, wet fluid filled his shirt. The shadow growled and staggered toward him. By now, the current Phantom felt sure the warm, wetness was blood. Without a doubt, the foul odor saturating the air came from the shadowing thing. Chills ran up and down Doone’s spine. His heart pounded fast and his mouth went dry like cotton.

Behind the shadow the Lady in White appeared in mist form roiling over and over forming herself like a sculptor molding clay.

In the darkness a piercing howl rang out and then the poor Phantom screamed as something dug its teeth into his shoulder. Sharp, pointed teeth broke the flesh and drew blood. It was trying to eat him alive. With the Spear he pierced the creature, sending it yelping and whimpering like a wounded dog. Could this have been one of the three heads of Cerberus? Or perhaps Anubis?

With a hand to his bleeding shoulder, Doone made a dash for the portal. It had to be better there than here. Pushing past the shadow, he dove into the opening and for an instant; just an instant an ultra bright light hit his eyes and blinded him for a second. Then the world of carriages and a few Model-T’s sauntered past him. Women in hobble skirts walked by with their husbands, fathers, brothers and friends.

Slowly turning around he discovered a large display window filled with hardware supplies. The window cast a perfect reflection of him and the world around. A variety of smells tantalized the sense. Fresh bread baking floated on a breeze from a nearby bakery. Horse droppings created a distinct, pungent odor. Gas fumes from a passing automobile mingled in making a strange mix of smells.

Suddenly, he realized he no longer bled. All wounds had healed. For this he felt grateful.

Just as Doone tried to turn away from the window, a hideous face loomed up before him, like a reflection. He jerked around, but no monster stood behind him. When his turned back to the reflection, something was trying to enter through the pane of glass.


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At Le Champs Elysées

Philippe arose from the table to follow Erik. The reporter didn’t make a move and seemed unusually quiet. No grin on his face. No sign of emotion. Erik thought to say something more, but from around the corner a woman who looked exactly like Mae, dressed in pants and a heavy parker like those used in Alaska or the Artic, headed straight for them. She spoke not a word. With dead eyes staring she stopped a few yards from the men. Extending her right arm, she shot out a bolt of white lightening that struck Erik directly in the chest and sent him sprawling into the side of the café.

Philippe tried to run, but another bolt of white lightening struck him in the back and he went down for the count. Not knowing whether or not Mae would kill him, Hamilton instinctively drew his Steyr GB and popped off a few shots. At such close range he couldn’t miss, but the bullets bounced off Mae as they if repelled by the Man of Steel.

Unlike a bad movie, Hamilton did not stay and empty his gun only to have the invincible being crush him like bug. Instead he took off running in a zigzag line screaming like a woman.

With wooden steps, Mae moved to the ground where Erik tried to push himself up, shaking his head to clear his vision. At the moment, he was still mortal and could die. In vain, he tried to summon the Staff, but when he failed, he chose to shimmy away. As soon as he vanished, Hermes/Mercury descended from the heavens on the back of Pegasus, the winged white horse. For a moment, he glared with distaste at the unconscious body of Count Philippe.

Hermes is behind the attack on Erik and the Count?? Awesome! Yay for him...


Doone... At the moment I am very afraid for him, is all I can say, I sure hope he gets out of this all right.



Brilliant writing still, my friend, as always, I await at the edge of my seat. Please do continue again soon.


D

Hello Slitherliggie! Thank you for your loyalty to the story. I am forever in your debt.

I know I've been saying that the end is coming up, but I do take time to build up to a climax and then a resolve. Right now, tension is mounting.

Where is EriksComposer? Hope she is well.

Now I post another chapter. Please R&R. Enjoy!

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CHAPTER 88

Mirror Dimension

Phantom Doone glared about at the Model-T’s and carriages. Then he turned back to the display window that had something pressing against it trying to enter. It appeared like more than one beastie pressed hard against the glass pane.

Entering a dimension through designated portals in hope that one made the right choice did not always deem wise.

“This dimension doesn’t count,” said a familiar voice from behind. Slowly Doone turned and there stood Erik wearing a long white duster, goggles and a derby. Before he could say a word, Erik sent a fist smashing into his jaw. His face ached as his teeth clacked together. Before he could recover, Erik hit him again and again, pushing him back along the sidewalk. No one seemed to notice or care.

With a bruised and battered face, the current Opera Ghost ducked and moved behind Erik and gave him a swift kick in the pants. This infuriated the pharaoh/god and his eyes flamed a hot red. His hands shook with anger as he again tried to summon the Staff of Osiris. Again he failed. Regardless of how many gods he drained, he still felt weak and did not have the strength to bring forth the Staff.

Doone ran for cover as he ducked behind a rather large carriage parked in front of a lavish dress shop. At the moment, he panted and gasped for air. His face felt like it had gone through a meat grinder. Each time he touched his jaw, pain shot through his entire face and head and his hands became covered with blood. Still, no one seemed to notice or care.

When he tried to stop a man for help, the man kept moving forward without even looking at him. The didn’t even acknowledge Doone’s existence. What kind of world had he entered?

Now he began to realize why Erik said this dimension doesn’t count. He meant that this was not a true dimension or period of time. The people not real. In some ways certain dimensions could be worse than the in between. This one seemed like a parallel world to ours in the early 1900’s. Causalities in this world did not count. They would not change history. Dimensions like these books of deep magick referred to as mirror dimensions. They did not recognize the laws of science or nature.

From a distance poor Doone could hear the angry roar from the pharaoh/god. Even if Erik couldn’t have the full-blown knockdown drag-out fight he wanted, neither could Doone.

Magick felt stifled. No matter how hard Erik tried to bring his minions through the portal, he just couldn’t make the window give way. When he tried to pummel Phantom Doone with a few spells, nothing happened. Without the Staff he had to resort to old-fashioned fisticuffs. He couldn’t even shimmy away or in any way teleport himself anywhere.

Seeing he would have to physically chase his opponent, he ran for his own Model-T, jumped in and made a dash through the streets searching for Doone.

In any dimension, Doone knew there would be another way out, another portal leading either to the in between or another dimension/period of time. Scientifically it would all be relevant.

Keeping himself hid from view, Doone made his way through various stores, businesses and finally to a street corner where a young lad stood on the corner selling newspapers.

The headlines didn’t seem so important as the date and location. May 26, 1913 read the date. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania read the location. Then he ticked a look at the headlines: Paterson Silk Strike. This was a work stoppage of a silk mill in Paterson, New Jersey. Did this really happen? This kind of history he couldn’t recollect. It didn’t matter. He felt better knowing the date and place where he now existed. How does he get out?

The screech of tires and the mad honking of a horn alerted him that Erik wasn’t far away. Dropping the newspaper back on the pile, Phantom Doone pushed frantically through the crowd and then ducked into a small bakery. Crouching down behind some display racks of delicious cakes and cookies, he didn’t notice the delicate young woman standing behind the counter.

“May I help you?” came the gentle question. When Doone jerked around, he saw one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen and he recognized her. Sissi. Originally she had bee known as Elizabeth the Empress of Austria and later the Norse goddess Skadi, but to him she would always be Sissi.

“Sissi?” He gasped incredulously.

A gentle smile crossed her face. She looked so dainty and fragile without her bulky winter coat, thick dress and snow boots. This gorgeous creature had the face of an angel and the body of goddess.

“What took you so long? I’ve been trying to get your attention for ages,” she said still smiling.

“Huh?”

“It was me whispering to you, but you never asked for help.”

“I have to hide,” Doone ignored the comment as he peered out the window watching the madman recklessly driving the Model-T.

“Is this all you have to say?”

“Magick doesn’t work here,” he sounded flustered. “His highness from the underworld tried to use a few spells on me, but they didn’t work.”

“Oh, magick does work here. You just have to know how to use it.” She said rounding the display case of cakes and cookies. Fresh bread lined the shelve behind the case. What a heavenly scent danced in the air!

With a gentle touch, she locked the front door and turned the ‘open’ sign around to read ‘closed’. When he turned to meet her gaze, she moved forward throwing her arms around his neck and gently pressed her lips to his. The sensation felt marvelous! All fear and anxiety drained from his body and his poor battered face and jaw healed. Even the smeared blood disappeared.

For a moment, he held her in his arms and the world literally fell away. She was his. All these years, he finally realized neither Christine nor Mae ever really belonged to him.

Her sweet voice brought him back to reality when she said, “The insane man who thinks he’s a god is back. We should leave before he finds you.”

As they disappeared into the backroom, the crack and splintering of the door rang out as the Model-T crashed through the bakery.

At the back of the bakery, Skadi/Sissi moved with haste holding her sweetheart’s hand. The best place to fight Erik would be on neutral ground. Not his mystic realm or the real world. If she could keep them here, this weird mirror dimension would do just fine.

They seemed to run through allies and back streets for hours, until they finally came across a the back of a shop Skadi said sold clocks and mirrors. The best place to prepare for a battle with a manic pharaoh/god.

Upon entering the shop, Skadi greeted the shopkeeper who actually seemed pretty normal, all things considered. Here she led her beloved to a cluttered corner where a full-length mirror stood. The frame looked like a dull antique gold, with carvings of cherubs and vines with a myriad leaves. Mounted on the wall overhead set a strange looking, twisted, gnarly clock that looked like someone fashioned it from parts of a tree.

According to Skadi the cloak controlled where the mirror led. If the hands of the clock rested on the 12 then this would take the person to the real world. If the hands rested on the 6 this would take the person to the in between. The remainder of the numbers acted like the combination of a lock. Both hands had to be on the same numeral. Turning the hands clockwise moved one forward from the real world; counter clockwise sent one backward in dimension/time. The real trick, knowing where you want to go and how many turns of the hands you needed to get there. Apparently, Skadi had all this and more coded in her brain. Poor Doone just listened and hoped he’d get it right.

The test came when Erik crashed his car into the front of the shop. Somehow, the madman figured out how to blow up clocks and mirrors with a single glance and no magick. A modern day pistol. Nothing like 1913 really had.

The shopkeeper stayed hidden behind one of his counters, while Skadi tried to move the hands of the clock. Even for a goddess, fear made her fumble and hurry to remember the combination of numbers.

In the midst of a clutter of clocks covering the walls and surrounding tables, Erik moved in closer and closer. At first, they didn’t see him. Skadi just wanted to call down a bolt of lightening and make a dramatic exit, but this mirror dimension wouldn’t allow. Her heart seemed to jump into her throat as she fumbled and racked her brain for the right combination.

Too late! Skadi and her beloved froze. There stood Erik with the gun pointed directly at Doone. How all very simple! Just aim and pull the trigger. Two shots fired from the gun. Glass shattered. Then all went quiet.

Oh dear! This is ominous indeed... I wonder what is to happen next?


Please do continue again soon, my friend, I await anxiously!



D

Hello Slitherliggie! I was just finishing the final chapter when you replied to this one. Thank you for your continued support and kind words.

I hope that syoonchannel and EriksComposer will catch up soon. I planning a new story.

Now for your enjoyment, here is the final chapter of Erik's Journal.

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CHAPTER 89

Sidewalk Café -Le Champs Elysées

Pegasus, the winged horse, snorted and pawed the ground as Count Philippe rallied from his sleep of the unconscious. Mae and Hermes looked on. Suddenly, Hathor appeared in modern day clothes, a pantsuit and sandals. Instantly, Hermes’ ancient clothes turned into dress pants and a short-sleeved dress shirt and Mae’s clothes changed into a T-shirt and jeans.

“I told you to remove him from the fight,” Hathor referred to Philippe. Her brow furrowed and her lips looked pouty. Mae stood in silence, with no expression and no sign of emotion.

Philippe tried to utter an incantation, but Hathor kicked him in the ribs, which sent him howling in pain as he grabbed his side.

“Silence you miserable rat! Don’t make me grumpier than I am. I cannot sustain Mae’s body without her spirit much longer. But if I separate you from your body, I won’t be reuniting them.” The cow goddess gave a callous look at the count that cowered without a sound.

Hermes looked around as if sensing something. “The mighty pharaoh/god will soon return. He has gone to drain the powers from more of the lesser gods. Once he obtains the Spear he will be immortal.”

Before Hathor could utter a response, the old count raised a hand and the air rolled up to present an open portal. There in the doorway stood the Azacca zombie. The face and hands looked motley and smelled of decay. The sunken eye sockets held glassy eyes with a dead stare. The thing reached out quickly and pulled in the count and rolled up the portal. Both Hermes and Hathor tried in vain to hang on to Philippe, but the zombie proved too fast for them.

“Quickly, go to the shores of Normandy. A battle was fought there once and so it shall be again. Take the body of Mae. I have commanded it to obey you. Beware of the pharaoh/god and the Staff. Should he suspect your treachery he will drain you dry.” Hermes bowed to the goddess and mounted the winged horse. Mae’s body reached out to him and the messenger of the gods helped it up on to Pegasus. Then the two flew off into the heavens and vanished.

Hathor looked around hoping the spell to forget-what-they-see would still affect any mortal close enough to hear and see the magick that just occurred. Satisfied that magick had not been exposed, the cow goddess shimmied away.

The Beaches of Normandy, France

The generally calm ocean erupted with a slew of strange creatures. Prometheus, the Cyclopes led the way, behind him came the Minotaur, followed by Anubis morphing into Cerberus the three-headed dog. The Lady in White appeared on the back of Bayard the enchanted horse that still had thin black streams of smoke coming from its nostrils. Making a more dramatic entrance, Erik descended from the heavens in modern day dress but this time the Staff of Osiris he held tight in his hand. At his right stood Philippe with an army of zombies ready to attack.

Phantom Doone walked along the beach toward Erik; the Lance of Longinus at the ready. Hathor emerged from his side of the ocean. Behind her came the Greville Ghost, and Raoul, le Vicomte de Chagny. Pegasus hovered over the group with Hermes and Mae's body on its back. Since they hovered between the groups, Erik gave no thought they would fight against him and the fool did not notice his wife riding with the messenger of the gods.

The atmosphere felt thick and heavy. Overcast skies brought a chilling draft of cold air.

Erik grinned wickedly. “My dear Phantom, not much of an army with you. Do you want to die quickly or slowly? Personally, I prefer to watch you die slowly. I want to see the light of life drain from your eyes!” Then he broke into a hideous insane laugh. His army of monsters joined in.

“Erik, you do remember that you and I are friends? I am not the original Phantom of the Opera. You are. Do you recall that I took your place?” Doone spoke calmly and tried to reason.

A spark of recognition pricked the madman and for a moment made no response.

“You married the woman you loved with all your heart and soul, Mae. She gave you the love that you were denied all your life. This woman pulled you out of the depths of despair…” Doone tried to continue, but Erik cut him off.

“Silence! I refuse to hear anymore of your silly prattle. I am a god. I need no one. I don’t even need love. I am invincible!” roared the mighty pharaoh/god.

“You are not invincible. You aren’t even immortal. Put the Staff back where you got it and give up this deadly battle for something you cannot hope to obtain.” At this, Doone handed the Spear over to Raoul and then turned back to Erik. “You tricked me into coming back to the real world. I understand why, but please give up this insane battle for ultimate power. You will end up killing everyone including the woman you love.”

A struggle arose within the pharaoh/god. Part of him acknowledged the truth and the evil part strained to bury all emotions. His face contorted with anguish and hate. This time, no more talking. He charged toward Doone. With violent hatred he used the side of the Staff to bash his opponent upside the head. The current Phantom went down for the count. Again and again Erik slammed the poor man with the Staff.

Philippe looked back at his army from hell and tried to give a command, when Hermes jumped down from Pegasus and landed on the old count. The two struggled against each other. The zombies got excited with all the fighting and wanted to join in, but Hathor, with what little strength she had, ripped open the Voodoo pouch, filled with dolls that resembled the walking dead, from the belt of the old count and crushed it beneath her feet. In an instant, the zombies vanished.

Since Hermes held Philippe prisoner and would not allow him to give any commands, the army of monsters stood at bay.

Erik laid the Staff down and went at Doone using hand-to-hand combat. He enjoyed feeling the crunch of the flesh beneath his fist. Blood streamed from the corners of Doone’s mouth. Hathor tried to intervene, but Raoul held her back and shook his head. Each man had to fight his own battles and his own demons.

With a sudden burst of strength, Doone perked up and slammed a fist into his opponents jaw. This sent Erik sprawling backward into the sand. Quickly the pharaoh/god jumped up, slipped a dagger from his belt and charged the battered man, plunging the knife deep into the side of poor unhappy Doone. He gasped at the sudden sharp pain of cold hard steel slicing into his tender flesh. Blood gushed from the devilish wound and the man dropped like a sack of potatoes.

“Nooo!” Screamed Hathor and another female voice from their surroundings.

Erik drew back the knife to strike again, but Raoul quickly pulled the cap off of the rose tiepin and plunged the poisoned tip into the madman. The sting of the deadly liquid traveled quickly through the crazy man, as paralyses forced him to drop down next to his wounded opponent.

For an instant, the old loving Erik flashed through the dying body. The realization of what he had done and was about to do tasted bitter in his mouth and filled him with remorse and shame. Both men lay dying next to each other. Doone ticked a look to Raoul and reached out for the Spear. He had to act quickly or all would be lost.

With the Spear in hand he embraced it and uttered a prayer. Instantly, a glow engulfed the man and with one great exhale the wound healed.

Holding the Spear away from him, Doone called for Mae’s spirit to return to her. Almost immediately, something went through her body, she gasped and then blinked. It seemed as though she had awakened from a long sleep. The surroundings looked strange to her, but then she heard the pain filled moan from the beloved husband.

Without hesitation, she ran to both Doone and her dying husband. Tears flooded her eyes as she wailed and lamented her loss. Weakly, Erik put a finger to her lips. The evil madman no longer existed. Phantom Doone won the battle.

“Forgive me my beloved. I killed you…”his voice trailed. Mae leaned in and kissed the only man she would ever love. With one last breath, the body went limp and Erik the original Phantom of the Opera was at dead. Even Raoul and the Greville Ghost grieved his passing, the Ghost especially, since his specialty was to moan, rattle chains and howl in grief and despair. All the powers taken from the gods left the body in a mass exodus of energy flowing back to their origins. Hathor felt incredibly strong and invigorated. Everything went back to the way it should have been with the exception that Erik was dead.

By now, Mae screamed and cried hysterically. She felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest. She wanted to die, again. What life would there be without the only man she would ever love?

Both Raoul and Doone tried to comfort her and pull her away from the body, but she held fast and wailed all the louder. Finally, Doone pushed her aside and laid the Spear across the body. In seconds, both the Spear and body radiated with a bluish glow. Oxygen rushed back into the lungs and Erik, too, let out a loud gasp. His eyes flew open. Blood once again pumped in his veins.

“Oh Erik!” Mae broke away from the others and threw her arms around her beloved husband. Tears still fell steadily from her eyes.

A click sounded. Then another. All eyes turned to the person taking pictures. Hamilton.

Mae and Raoul helped Erik to his feet. Erik frowned, “Please stop with the camera.” Hamilton stopped taking pictures and displayed his infectious grin.

Erik looked to Doone in bewilderment.

“I took a chance that I could bring you and Mae back from the dead. You had to die to restore all the damage you’d done. That’s all.” Doone felt relieved and happy to see his old friend restored to his true loving and caring self.

After kissing his wife and squeezing her tight, he reached for Doone and shook his hand vigorously. Then the two embraced a manly embrace.

“Can you and Mae ever forgive me?” Erik felt such shame and remorse for the evil he brought to those he loved. Doone just smiled and Mae kissed him like there was no tomorrow, and there almost wasn’t.

Finally, attention fell upon Hamilton. For as Hathor recalled, she last saw him running away screaming like a woman. However, Hamilton gave no explanation. He claimed he just wanted a story for the rag-tag tabloid he worked for.

Phantom Doone turned to Raoul and shook his hand. “Thank you. When I needed you, you didn’t let me down.” Handing him the journal, Doone continued, “Go home, back to Christine. Take care of her and my son.” This filled Raoul with such sadness. Poor Doone had taken the brunt of everything for all of his friends, only to be cast aside by both Mae and Christine. Raoul tried to say something, but a female voice interrupted the moment.

“I’ve waited for you a long time Erik or Doone or whoever you are,” said Skadi, now clad in dress slacks and sandals.

“Sissi!” smiled Doone. In a matter of seconds they wrapped their arms around each other and then pressed their lips together in the most heated passion ever displayed on a public beach. Even the monsters blushed.

“I too, thank you Raoul le Vicomte de Chagny. Return to your time and live in peace and happiness with your wife and son. The Staff of Osiris and the Spear of Destiny will go with me and my man.”

“Wait! I thought the Staff and Spear were too devastatingly powerful for one person to possess?” asked Raoul. The others agreed.

“For a mortal, but not for a god who is immortal,” Skadi smiled and looked up into Doone’s eyes.

“Me? A god?” Doone couldn’t believe his ears.

“I love you, Doone. I’ve always loved you. Marry me and become a god. Together we will guard the Staff of Osiris and the Spear of Destiny for all eternity.”

“All eternity?”

“With me, you will never be alone. You maybe dead to the real world and to the world of the Phantom, but you will live in much happiness with me…”

“For all eternity…” With that, Doone and Skadi kissed again and held each other as if only they existed. At last, he had found the woman who would love him for who he was. Never to be alone again. Could this truly be happening?

Hathor dismissed the monsters to their place in time and history. The Greville Ghost gave his congratulations and support. Hathor then escorted him to a higher plain where he would never have to rattle chains or let out a painful moan.

Hermes bowed, grabbed up Philippe and threw him across the winged horse, and then he mounted Pegasus and took off into the still overcast skies.

Erik stood on the beach hugging his wife. Doone held his beloved Sissi and Hamilton clicked a few more pictures as Raoul smiled with the journal in hand.

They all still had their suspicions about the reporter, but for now, they would enjoy a moment of true happiness, where peace reigned, love dwelled and life went on without end.

Sorry I did not reply, I have had limited access to Internet for a while. I have opened the new chapter and will read it tonight, but I'm just letting you know I'm still here...

Slitherliggie thanks for letting me know you are still around. Sorry you have limited Internet. What happened? I hope you get unlimited back soon.

Hope you like the ending.

Have a great day!

Wow that was so awesome! I just knew there had to be a happy ending. I'm so glad everyone got what they deserved!

Very very good story, my friend! I enjoyed every step of the journey and I look forward to any new stories you may have in store for us.


Please do write again soon, and inbox me with the new link, I would very much like to read it.

Our offices moved to a new premises and I had to wait long for the new telephone line to be installed - now I'm having problems to bridge over with my own internet and I'm reluctant to use the internet of my workplace for personal use. I am sure unlimited will be back on track again soon, though...


D

Thank you, thank you, thank you Slitherliggie. I am so happy that you liked the ending. I too enjoy a happy one.

I have started a new story and sent you a pm with the following link:

https://erikofmusic.forumakers.com/t460-curse-of-collecting

I will do so again.

See you soon.