Confessions Of A Vicomte - Entry Five · Jun 28, 02:50 AM

Dear Diary,

I have escaped! I have had little time as of late; recounting the events sooner would have been impossible.’ How I come to continue carrying around this small book, I’m not quite certain. And yet I feel this diary will become liken to a chronicle for the events of my life, so that I may read it in my old age and remember the strange days I once lived. My life at sea used to be full of maddening adventures, from tending to the ship, to handling enemy forces, to surviving through the worst storms imaginable. But none of that contends with the terror that is one’s anti-fan base.

After the exit of the insane young mob that followed Erik without cease, I discovered that the new watch had stayed behind. They were two young girls, one looking around two or three years younger than the other. The older one was staring at me with a bemused look, whilst the younger watched me with an intense glare of determination. I felt it odd that the elder should look more laxed, and the other seemingly so to-the-point and full of conviction to her duty. I offered a weak smile toward them, causing the older girl to let out a quiet laugh, turning to look at her straight-backed companion.

“Enjoy this, Ma- er…what’s your codename again?” She asked her companion, a crooked smile conveying her coy humor.

The younger girl replied, saying simply, “It’s Berenice. It means victory bringer.” Berenice offered a tiny smile, “I decided it couldn’t hurt.”

The first girl let loose a laugh, then looked me up and down saying,“This – rocks. Doesn’t it? I mean, he’s right there. Raoul de Chagny. That’s pretty cool.”

Berenice seemed to agree, her eyes softening, but saying nothing for atime. “How long do we have, Dee? I sure hope we can pull this off. It would not be pleasant to be caught by those…” She seemed to bite her tongue, her face carrying a disgusted expression. “It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be, to convince them I was a Raoul Basher. Then I just had to let go of every bit of logic I’ve ever learned, and it came much easier.”

Dee checked something on her wrist that vaguely resembled a pocket-watch, then mumbled, “There’s about four and a half minutes until they’ll be ready for us.” She glanced up at me, “It’s a pity what they’ve done to our poor Prince Charming here, ain’t it? What’s that on your face?”

If I could have removed my arms from the very tight ‘duck tape’ that the girls had bound me with, I would have reached up to feel the sticky, slippery substance that the Bashers had rubbed on my lips and cheek. Berenice gasped, her face displaying shock and horror.

“Lipgloss!” she breathed, “The pathetic, shallow, brainless mongrels!” Dee started roughly wiping the ‘lipgloss’ off my face with her sleeve, and Berenice rolled her eyes and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, offering it to her companion.

I stared at the two for a moment, then growled, “If you don’t mind, I believe that I may remove it myself, if you’d care to unbind me.” My voice was gruff and my patience thin from my extended time with the bashers, and I was shocked at my own conduct. Obviously, both the females were surprised as well. Their eyes met in an almost pitying expression, as though they shared thoughts merely by meeting eyes.

“Raoul, we’re Defenders. We’ve come to help you escape….again ,” said Berenice carefully, watching my every move as she started picking the locks. I nodded – this was easily guessed by their demeanor in comparison to the others I had seen here.

Dee began to carefully cut off the ‘duck tape’ from my wrists, while Berenice continued to fiddle with the rusty chains on my feet, and explained, “There will be a group of people outside the back entrance, waiting with a peculiar transportation device. There will be a strap lying on the seat, I’ll show you how to buckle that. But it is very
important that you do not ask questions about the vehicle, and you forget everything about it that you see.”

“Why, may I ask, is it important to remain ignorant?” I questioned, and Dee grinned at Berenice, ripping off the tape abruptly. I gave a sharp intake of air at the sudden painful effect.

“Because,” Berenice said impatiently, “It’s not from your time. We avoid messing up your time as much as possible, but in this case, it was necessary. Here you go.” She stood back from the shackles lying on the ground, and went to check the door. Dee eyed me, while standing in quite close proximity.

“Don’t be bothered by her,” she whispered, and I raised an eyebrow at the girl looking frantically up and down the corridor outside. “She’s in her ‘world-changing movement’ mood right now, is all. Normally, she’s more fun.” Dee looked me up and down, her eyes lingering on my face. “Your taller than I imagined. Care to save me a waltz sometime? I imagine your brother Phillipe taught you one or two things.”

“My brother did not teach me much. He was much too preoccupied with certain studies.” I said briskly, “Not to be prude, but I do not believe now is a suitable time to choose dancing partners.”

“On the contrary,” Berenice said from the door, “Now is an excellent time. I hope you know a two-step. Because we’re gonna need to take two steps in the time of one! They’re coming!” She raced over to snatch my wrist in an iron-grip, and pulled me out of my prison. I heard voices coming from around the shadowy corner – high-pitched, giggling tones of affection – but I could not resist pausing to glance around at my surroundings. Where my imprisoning chamber had been unnaturally bright and vulgar, the corridors of this ‘base’ of sorts was dark and liken to an old castle. I was distinctly reminded of the bowels of the Opera Populaire – the place which still haunts my love’s dreams.

“Raoul – quick!” whispered Ms. Dee forcefully, and we rushed through a long, winding, and maddening series of corridors. Hurried breaths turned into gasps, and watchful eyes were soon filled with fear. Berenice opened a door that was behind a very unseemly statue of a witch, and I was blinded suddenly by the bright daylight that stung my eyes. I could hardly see the queer vehicle that stood outside, a kind of strange carriage with fat, black wheels. Two doors were opened, and the three of us leapt inside.

The brief instant of sunlight was gone, as the doors were closed, and a happy cackle floated through the air.

~Raoul de Chagny

— MaskedNicci

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