Chapter 3: Eating Habits

Ink wasn't the worlds greatest cook. In fact, she really didn't know how to cook anything beside eggs. Which was fortunate because the only unspoiled food in Erik's small kitchen was a basket of eggs. Clearly the 'living corpse' didn't consider nutrition an essential of living, Ink thought.

"Shit shitty shit shit," she hissed as the frying pan she was trying to get from the cupboard almost fell on the carton of eggs. After burning one egg and dropping another, Ink eventually had a large plate of scrambled eggs ready for Erik. Placing the plate on the dining table, she decided to inform him up before she started her search for Mary Sues. Ink crept down the hall to the library and opened the door. She rolled her eyes as she saw that Erik was deeply engrossed in his book. Ink grabbed his closest shoulder and shook him violently. Reflexively, Erik grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him.

"Erik sees what you're trying to do, you little viper. Trying to pull off Erik's mask, eh? You wanted to see the face of death? You-"

"Slow your roll, Phantom and quit that creepy third person monologue crap. I wasn't trying to pull off your mask."

"Then what was that for!" Erik hissdd, glaring at her.

"That sir, was your 'wakey wakey eggs and bakey' call. Your breakfast is ready, " she replied as she walked away from him and went down the hall. Erik stormed after her angrily, he had never been so blatantly disrespected in his fictional life. Ink saw that he had followed her and motioned for he to go to the table. When Erik got to the table he stared blankly down at the plate of eggs.

"I don't eat."

"I am more than well aware of that," Ink responded as she polished her dagger with a blue cloth, "but you're eating today."

Erik scoffed at this and started to make his way to his organ when he was pulled backwards by the neckline of his suit. Erik sputtered in surprise as Ink dragged him over to table and made him sit down. She was stronger then he presumed she would be.

"Look mister, you are eating those eggs and you're not leaving until you do."

"Make me," Erik snarled. Ink smirked and picked up the fork. Before Erik could blink, Ink was shoving eggs down his throat. Erik glared as he swallowed the forkful, only to that Ink would feed him more eggs. After half of the eggs were eaten, she finally set down the fork.

"Might I inquire why you forced me to eat?" Erik growled, still sitting down. "Perhaps you have a death wish?"

"I am not letting my employer starve himself, regardless of nicknames you've been given due to your corpse like appearance," Ink said as she reached into the crate that was still there from last night and pulled out a large suitcase. She walked back over to the table and gently set the suitcase down on its side. Erik watched curiously, now nibbling on the eggs off of his without noticing, as Ink opened it up. The first thing Ink pulled out was a small brown box.

"It holds my knives," She told Erik, not even looking up. She then unpacked a crossbow, a machine gun, a wooden stake, and a few throwing stars. Ink looked at them fondly for a moment then shut the cover of the suitcase and looked up at Erik.

"Is there a place where I can store my clothes?"

Erik silently cursed the fact he insisted on her living in his house on the lake but then reluctantly nodded. Ink picked the suitcase and smirked as Erik got up.

"Good job finishing your eggs, Erik," Erik looked down and saw that he really did finish all of them.

"Damn that sneaky girl!" he muttered under his breath as he led her to Christine's old bedroom. Ink frowned as Erik opened the door.

"This is Christine's room."

"And how can you tell that?" Erik asked is a rather tired but still sarcastic voice.

"The fact that there is Louis-Philippe furniture and not a coffin in sight gave me a tip." She replied and then glanced at him curiously as he walked into the room. Ink hesitated for a moment them entered with him. It felt like if she knocked even a vase of off the vanity in this room, she'd be dinner for the siren.

"Are you absolutely sure that it's okay if I use this room?" Ink asked as she gingerly set down her stuff. Erik seemed lost in thought as the thick

"Why wouldn't be?"

"Well, it was Christine's..."

"After FanFiction, Mary Sues, and thousand different versions of our story, I don't miss her as much. I miss her of course, but it's been over a hundred years since our last encounter. It is interesting though, with Fanfiction... I shall admit that I enjoy seeing when Christine and I are paired up in FanFictions together romantically, even though I know Raoul is and shall remain her true love." Erik noted dryly. Ink pursed her lips then mutely nodded and looked at him with a look of understanding. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to have someone choose someone else over you, but then have people still write fluffy fanfics with you both as their OTP. Bleh!

"Thank you, for letting me use this room. I know it means a lot to you." She quietly said. They stood together in a comfortable silence until they both heard a door slam. Ink's eyes widened and she grabbed her dagger out of her pocket in anticipation of another Mary Sue.

"Ink wait!" Erik protested as she ran from the room " That's the... Persian."

He entered the main room to see that the Persian was cowering under Ink's dagger.

"He's allowed to be here, Ink," Ink quickly put her dagger in her pocket.

"Erik, who on earth is this?" the Persian sputtered, still looking at Ink nervously.

"She is my M.S.K." Erik said as he motioned the trembling Persian to sit at the table.

"THAT'S your M.S.K.?" the Persian squeaked. "The body in the box? I thought that was another one of your eccentrically cruel jokes!"

"Yes, I am the M.S.K. and I apologize for my behavior before. I was under the intention that you where a Mary Sue." Ink cooly said. The Persian weakly nodded as he adjusted his fez.

Suddenly, angelic albeit echoey singing burst out of nowhere, causing the Persian's already present heart palpitations to increase.

"In sleep he sang to me... In dreams he came..."

Ink smirked and pulled out her knife again.

"Well, speak of the devil and she will come... Excuse me gentlemen, but I have a Mary Sue to deal with." and with that, Ink left them alone.

"Will she be alright?" the Persian timidly asked.

"She has already killed a Mary Sue right in front of me with great competence, I am positive that she can replicate her assassination skills once more."

The Persian winced as they heard a shrill scream and then silence. Erik coughed, but otherwise did not seem to be alarmed at this turn of events, already aware of how the Mary Sue Killer operated. A few minutes later Ink reappeared, covered in pink glitter and limping.

"Stupid musical Sues... Always singing..." She grumbled as she walked over to the table and sat down, rubbing her leg.

"Are you hurt?" the Persian asked with concerned.

"She just stabbed me with her high heeled shoe, that's all. It might leave a small bruise but otherwise I am in top condition." Ink answered with a small grimace.

"That's good, I suppose," the Persian said awkwardly and then handed a large stack of letters to Erik "Well, here is today's mail... I am afraid I have important business to attend to now and cannot stay here. You know, ballet rats to warn, corridors to stride down..." the Persian then gave a grimace of a smile and then ran off, leaving Erik and Ink far behind him. One eccentric homicidal manic he could deal with, he thought as he briskly left his 'friend's' house, but he would need more than a hot cup of tea to deal with two at once.

"Well, he seems... nice," Ink forced out. "Tolerable is a good word for him. Tolerable like slightly overpriced coffee or a light drizzle of rain."

Erik grunted at her odd analogy and rummaged through the mail. After what seemed forever, he got through them all. Perhaps now that he had a Mary Sue Killer, she could sort the mail and use most of it for kindling. Erik realized that it had been very quiet as he was checking the mail. He looked up and saw that Ink had passed out with her head on the table, right next to all her weapons. Erik quietly groaned in annoyance, she still looked quite... ridiculous when she wasn't killing Mary Sues or shoving eggs down his throat. Oh Faust, was she drooling too? He couldn't have drool ruin the mahogany and it was probably safety hazard for a person to sleep next to weaponry. But where to put her?

He strengthen his resolve and walked over to Ink, picking her up in his arms awkwardly. It felt like she weighed as much as a feather. Then again, he hadn't willingly carried a woman since his 'angel of music' days. Erik slowly walked down the hallway and opened up the door to Christine's old bed room. The door unfortunately, squeaked from such little use over the years very loudly and began wake Ink up which made Erik fumble and lose his grip on her. With gritted teeth, he ensured that the blasted girl stayed within his grip and didn't fall to the floor.

"What the heck? Erik?" Ink mumbled groggily. Erik straighten up and put his hand over her mouth, desperately trying to will her back to sleep so she couldn't confront him in this awkward scenario.

"This is a really screwy dream..." Ink muttered against his palm and then she fell asleep again in his arms. Erik stayed still for moment, making sure that she really was asleep. Then, with a cold and detached efficiency, he laid her in the Louis-Philippe bed, taking off her shoes and placed the duvet over her figure.

As he left the room, Erik surprised himself with a smirk. He couldn't wait to see how ticked off she would become when she realized that her dream wasn't in fact reality. After bossing him around all morning and making him partake in such a menial thing like eating, perhaps it was time for her to get a taste of her own medicine.

AN: Thanks for reading! Reviews are cherished!