~ Chapter Four ~

Tia

Within the first day of making my decision to help Erik, I had begun to regret it. He wasn't a normal roommate by any means. For one, he didn't eat-out my fridge or tear-up my room. I couldn't even get him to glance at a piece of bread, and when I say the guy was neat, I mean he was clean. He organized my room – which, I was content with being messy, thank you – within a matter of hours, complaining of the fact that it would attract mice and bugs.

Half of the time that he was keeping himself busy by cleaning my room, he was treating each new item he found like a precious specimen. He discovered a box of tampons with immense interest, and I nearly kicked him out when he tried to examine them. I wasn't about to explain their use to an Opera Ghost.

By noon, I was exhausted with trying to keep him out of my stuff.

"What is 'Dungeons and Dragons'?" Erik inquired.

Saffron had made it her job to clean-out my closet so that Erik would have a place to sleep. It was a cozy little space that had just enough room to lay in, and after a long explanation to Erik on how it was not, in fact, a torture chamber, he agreed to go in it again. To all of our surprise, he took a fondness to it. I shouldn't have been surprised, considering that in a roundabout way, the closet had a dark allure that it shared with his lair in the Opera House. It didn't sound too bad to have the Ghost in my closet, when in consideration, it was more intriguing than having him on the couch downstairs.

"It's a game," Saffron answered from inside the closet.

I eyed him from over the edge of my book, "Why do you ask?"

Erik sat on the end of my bed, his posture stiff and unrelentingly alert. Little Erik relaxed in his arms, contently purring as the Phantom stroked his sleek fur.

"I heard of it from Monsieur Asshole. He was talking about it when he exited down the stairs."

I briefly mused over whether I should set him straight about Kale's name, only to dismiss the thought shortly after. It didn't hurt anything.

"You make a character and then you roll dice to decide their fate." I summed-up.

Erik raised an eyebrow, mulling over it. After a moment he nodded.

"So you are the game-maker?"

"Yeah, basically."

"I've done that before. It's quite simple."

I paused in what I was doing, honestly taken-aback. My book slowly lowered to my lap as I studied his face curiously.

"I didn't know they had D&D during the eighteenth century."

"I am lost as to the clarity behind your words, but what I am referring to lies along my investigations in Persia. Traps, torture chambers, and the like." He glanced toward the closet only a little doubtfully.

I blanched, "So what you're really referring to is torturing people. What does that have to do with D&D?"

Saffron hopped out of the closet, rubber gloves up to her elbows and a smear of something that looked like dirt across her cheek. A silly grin lit her features.

"He's talking about killing people! Right, Erik?" She said a little too cheerfully.

I sighed, "I still don't get it."

Saffron plopped down on the rug near my bed, batting her side-bangs out of her eyes.

"In the act of murder one would be deciding the fate of another. But considering the fact that the Phantom was infamous for his opinions of the humanoids that stumbled into his lair and therefore the traps therein, it's safe to assume he thought of them as nothing more than little puppets. So, in a way, perhaps Erik thinks that D&D is like killing someone. But maybe you should try a different approach than just torture," She addressed said man on the last sentence.

Erik stared at her blankly, his eyes shifting to me in disbelief.

"She…sounded…"

"Intelligent? It happens on occasion."

Saffron stretched her arms out above her head, arching her back like a little cat. Speaking of the animal, little Erik had taken an obvious liking to the Opera Ghost – and that alone was an understatement. He was around him all the time, purring and rubbing up against his legs as though without the man's attention, he'd surely starve to death. Erik didn't seem to mind too much, though, but I assumed he probably was able to connect with animals more than humans, anyway. At least, from what I'd read about him.

My best friend turned on my mini TV, pulling out two Xbox 360 controllers. Erik eyed them warily.

"What are those?" he asked.

I inwardly groaned and stood, snapping my book closed with finality.

"I'm going downstairs to get something to eat. Keep him occupied without tearing-up my room."

"You don't need my help to do that," He sniffed, "I'm not a small child."

I shot him a look before striding across the room and down the stairs. One of my favorite things about Erik had always been his sharp tongue and don't-give-a-shit attitude. Somehow I didn't seem to like it as much when it was directed towards me. I tossed the thought aside and immediately went for the fridge, pulling it open and scanning the shelves. A four-pack of Monster sat on the bottom shelf, and I grabbed one, ignoring the fact that my brother would probably bitch about it later.

It ran down the back of my throat, a cold shot of energy that pooled in my stomach with renewed assurance. I'd probably finish another one before the day was out. Thankfully Kale was too selfish with his stuff to not go buy more. I loved using my brother. We were out of Coke, but Kale didn't give a shit about soda for the most part. I was out of luck on that. So, the best thing to do would be to drain every last drop of what he did like.

I spent another few minutes standing in the middle of the kitchen, downing the Monster. I threw it in the trash when I was done, not caring if it was easily visible. The phone went off as I turned, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Hello?" I sighed.

"Hey, honey. I'm just letting you know that I'll be home really late tonight. Order some food and keep your brother out of trouble."

"Alright."

This wasn't anything unfamiliar, honestly. I had spent many nights like this, but it just happened that on this one I was blessed (depending on one's perspective) with company. Somehow I just couldn't picture Erik sleeping in my closet, however.

Loud noises of triumph issued from my room, and I peeked around the corner of the doorway cautiously. Saffron threw up her arms in conquest, and Erik glowered at the controller on his lap with obvious contempt. His fingers moved over the buttons with unfamiliar hesitation, and I figured that – for once – he had no clue what he was doing.

"Erik?" I approached with awkward steps, not really sure of how to offer to him my resolution.

His head jerked away from the television screen, eyes settling with disgruntled irritation on my face.

"I have something for you to mess with if you want. I don't really know how to use it that well, so…"

"Is it an instrument?" He blurted.

"Yes."

His face lit like a Christmas tree, and I inwardly felt a little aggravation at doing something nice. But perhaps – just maybe – it could be pardoned since this was the Opera Ghost I was assisting.

I retrieved the electric guitar from behind my dresser with unease. I wasn't really sure how he'd react to it, but it was nothing like I expected. Curiosity exploded across his features, and I watched with quiet interest as he rose, taking it from me.

Erik lifted it in his grasp, his eyes running over it in bewildered excitement. I was sure that I'd just hit the jackpot that would keep in occupied for days – if he stayed that long.

"He's beginning to grow restless," Saffron said on Sunday.

I glanced over my shoulder at the Opera Ghost, cross-legged on the couch. He strummed quietly on the guitar cradled against his chest. Erik – the cat – nestled up against his leg, looking just as dejected as his name sake.

"What makes you think that?" I asked nonchalantly.

Saffron sighed, "I think we should take him out of the house. This isn't healthy."

"We're talking about a man who has lived a large portion of his life under an Opera House. Dark, musty, and secluded are his high points."

"Tia."

I raised my hands in a defensive manner. How the hell did you take an aged, murderous genious on an outing into a world that had changed drastically since he'd last seen it? You didn't. At least, that was my viewpoint.

Saffron's eyes lit with such an intensity that I thought she'd imploded.

"That's it! We go to school tomorrow. Let's take him with us!"

"What? Hell NO!"

"C'mon!"

"No."

She pouted, with eyes that would make an entire kennel of puppies jealous. I nearly swallowed my tongue.

"Fine! But you are responsible for taking care of this. If it doesn't work out, he stays home."