Loup Égaré

Authoress' Note: Wellll. It has been a few years, actually, since I've written and posted anything. Think of it as a combination of working, getting in college, leaving college, life, and many other things. I've kept on writing, but for a long time I didn't want to post anything. I kind of got into a 'what's the point' type of funk I suppose. Ah, well. This story is my own take on a OC insert into the Phantom of the Opera universe. This is basically a simple kind of story to give me a bit of respite from some of the bigger more planned out fanfictions I've been working on as of late. Welp, out onto the internet this goes!

Rating: M (For mentions of rape, sexual assault, violence, language, depression, mental illness, miscarriage/abortion/teenage pregnancy, abusive relationships. If you have a trigger thing about sexual assault/rape, this isn't the story for you. turn back now.)

Kit stared out at the black expanse of nighttime sky, a few stars barely breaking through the clouds. The scent of rain hung lightly in the air, the smells of the city being driven from her senses for once, though the strong tang of the sea still coated her nostrils and throat. Her parents had dragged her along with them to a big city in Florida with little warning.

Of course, she gave a soft and bitter laugh, it didn't matter. She was alone for the most part. Her few friends were too taken up with their own lives to bother with her or even send her a message through the internet or her cellphone. Not to mention the newest shitty thing, she had lost the job she had held for the past three years with no warning. Just handed a pink slip at the end of her last shift and told to leave.

She had cried for days, she had been so occupied with work she didn't know what else to do with her time. Kit was nothing if not a workaholic to her core, and it kept her mind off of what her life had become outside of it. If she was able to work, she was able to be content at least while clocked in. While she was at work memories and the present didn't matter and stayed away. So far no more job offers had popped up even with her enthusiastic searching, and it had left the redhead listless and feeling set adrift.

Now all she really could do was sit about, waiting.

She was so sick of waiting...

Sighing, she turned her gaze over to the unending flow of traffic below, her mind drifting to her fiancé. He was the one thing that didn't turn to shit with her involved and the reddish-eyed woman was constantly waiting for the hat to drop. He was a good man by some decent standards, by the name of Darren Wilkins.

He dealt in business, as did her father and now her mother as the older woman had decided to leave the nursing career path. He was always a gentleman and after six or seven months of lukewarm dates and chaste kisses he had asked Kit to marry him, though theirs would be a sort of short engagement. Finding while she was not overjoyed with his offer, she knew that at least with him she would have a secure future and she would be able to keep her heart guarded. He seemed fine with her standoffish and rather calm, cold demeanor she exhibited to him. With his work taking him all over the globe she was left to her own devices often which suited her need for quietness and alone time. With him she supposed she could at least be content with someone she could trust to not push her emotionally, who didn't ask about her past. He rather liked her mask of indifference and so let her be, her a pretty little ornament to his arm. A perfect pair to show at parties, with no fuss and no arguments.

With every person who congratulated her as they saw the extravagant band on her finger, her face grew stonier as she stifled any doubts she may have lingering in the back of her mind and numb heart. This arrangement suited her fine; while she was perfectly aware that the right thing to do would be to marry for love, she was too scared for herself to get hurt again.

No, Kit mused as she reclined against the building, her feet resting against the railing of the balcony, a lifetime of easy contentment was far better than chancing such pain and suffering again.

Darren had stayed behind in order to attend to business, which was fine by her. While they had been engaged for half a year now, just recently they had begun the planning. Or, in truth, he proposed things and she merely acquiesced to them. For easy contentment she knew it was best to hold her tongue, and truly she didn't care. Not about such innocent, simple things...not anymore. Once upon a time she would have been filled with delight at such preparations and at marrying such a handsome and pleasant man, but that was before she had been hurt so horribly. Whatever dress he picked for her to wear and how her hair should be arranged was of no consequence to her.

She couldn't see any stars now as the clouds covered them all up with impending rain.

Love and such fantasies were worthless in reality.

Sighing, Kit tore her eyes from the hypnotizing streaming lights of the busy city below and retreated into the small hotel room to retire for the night.

XxXxX

Two weeks later she found herself brushing her hair, staring into a mirror as she got ready for a date with her fiancé. None of her usual habits were tolerated by the rather proper man, such as enjoying eating outdoors sitting beneath trees, her love for large portions of food or even of her love of fast food like french fries and hamburgers. Of course must of his strictness was attuned to being in the public eye and for meetings with others in business, but as he traveled often she would have time for her to breath and enjoy all of the things she would do without in his presence, so she did not mind it much.

She carefully pinned her waist-long dark red hair up into a sleek up-do. The rolled bun looked strange to her, as she preferred letting her hair free or tying it back in a simple tail. Her dress was modest, a light cream colour with a floral pattern of pink roses. Its sleeves, them slit to part and show a hint of her shoulders. It feel down below her knees and covered all of her cleavage, a cream and black belt holding it in at her tiny waist. Her low heels were black, and matched the clutch as well as her small black obsidian pendant falling just beneath the hollow of her throat. She put on light natural looking makeup, enough to enhance her features and give colour to her pale skin and draw attention to her amber eyes.

Glancing at the clock she took in a slow, deep calming breath. Closing her eyes she held it in as she counted to ten before she let it slip between her lips. It was time for her fiancé to pick her up at her parents home, and so she made her way from her room and walked down the stairs. Punctual as ever, Darren stood in the entrance way. He had a clean-shaven face and chestnut colored hair, his eyes a pale grey-blue. He was tanned and of an average height and build, though he worked out quite often so was well-muscled. Truly, the thirty-seven year old was average in the largest part of the sense, except for his prim manners and utter dedication to his rather old-fashioned sense of propriety. He smiled warmly at her and offered her his arm which Kit took politely.

"I will have her back no later than ten," he promised her mother, however superfluous it was. She was a woman of twenty-three, Perfectly old enough to stay out as long as she wished. The only reason she had not moved out was because there was no reason to, and now had no job. Though she truly didn't need a job with where her life was heading.

He escorted her to the car and soon they were on the silent drive to the altogether to an expensive restaurant. Once inside they were granted a table per their reservation, near the center of the room. Darren probably thought that, should anyone who he did business with happen to be here, they would see a beautiful young woman on his arm.

After a few minutes of perusing the menus, Darren smiled warmly at her and held her hand with her engagement ring gently on the table. "Would you like anything in particular, darling?"

"Why don't you order for me?" The words fell from Kit's lips so easily with practice. "There are so many choices and you always choose something I enjoy," she made herself smile at his nod. 'I hope he does not order something with so much tomato sauce...again,' she couldn't help but to think.

He called over the waiter and ordered her something ghastly light and feminine. She still smiled, but reminded herself, she did not need much to survive. Often, without her job and only music, art, and writing to occupy her time she forgot to eat. It usually took about 24 hours for her to begin to feel the hollowness of her stomach. She supposed that it kept her thin enough to look quite presentable to her husband-to-be and kept her looking dashing in the outfits her mother handed her to wear.

Eating the small salad and drinking the glass of water, she barely tasted it as Darren chattered about this or that for their wedding. What kinds of flowers, who would sit at what table, and other worthless drivel. When her main course arrived she felt her stomach turn slightly—pasta with a pool of red sauce and too little cheese grated atop it. She still forced it down and drank the water, listening to Darren talk over his meal of steak of who he wanted to be the flower girl. Apparently her mother had taken the liberty of contacting old female acquaintances of hers to be bridesmaids as well and he proposed the bridesmaids dresses be a soft pink.

"The wedding planner thinks it will look wonderful in the church," He smiled brightly.

"That is fine," she smiled towards him and patted her mouth politely with her napkin, though her attention was starting to wane. Kit had little patience for such things, especially to do with their wedding but she always focused on Darren as to not annoy him.

The water stopped by then and asked if either of them would like dessert. Kit gave a covert but longing glance at the "death by chocolate"-like dessert on the desert menu the waiter held but Darren waved him off with the hand that wasn't holding hers.

"Ah, no, we don't care for sweets. The check, please?" Her fiancé smiled a charming smile and the waiter beamed back before going to get the check.

Charming people to be well liked was something Kit knew well. Her previous job was in retail, it kept her very busy and she loved working with people. Her helpful nature was paramount to help customers and her sweet, kind disposition and seemingly endless patience had served her well. She was more herself at her job, but now all she had was the indifferent mask her husband-to-be somehow loved.

Or, at the very least, tolerated.

XxXxX

It was a week before the wedding, and Kit was taking a quiet night to herself, away from the whirlwind of cake testing and guest inviting and other such wedding preparations. Her parents were both out of town on a business trip, finishing up things enough to make sure they would not be bothered on her wedding day. She sat on the couch in the living room and hummed along to a musical she had playing on Netflix as she crocheted a blanket aimlessly. The musical was the 25th Anniversary version of the Phantom Of The Opera at the Royal Albert Hall, one of her favorite versions of the musical. It helped calm her nerves, and she needed it more than ever as she found that the closer she got to being married to Darren the more anxious and high strung she became. She felt the mental strain get harder and harder to shove away, harder to ignore her buzzing doubt and the almost audible little voice in the back of her head going "What the hell are you doing?!"

Her mind drifted to one of the less favorable aspects of this marriage—the consummation. Darren had been clear he wanted their wedding night to be the first time they laid together. This was fine with Kit as it delayed the inevitable...Somehow opening her legs for her husband seemed better to her than to a boyfriend or even fiancé, even if all she did was lay there. The icy-eyed man seemed the type to not want to have to do more work than was necessary, and Kit would just want it to be over. 'At least it would be my choice then,' She couldn't help but to think darkly.

Anything was preferable than having her being taken by force by someone who had no reason to stay or hurt her unduly. She shivered beneath the cold, unforgiving weight of her memories, trying to stave off the phantom sensations and blinking away the mental image of a rectangle of light too far away to reach in darkness.

Kit snapped from her reverie as she heard knocks at the door. "Now who could that be?" She murmured to herself s she sat her yarn and metal hook to the side before rising. She wore comfortable skinny jeans and a loose black t-shirt, her hair rolling down in loose waves down her back, her feet bare. Her favorite necklace rested on her neck, the simple chain long enough to rest the pendant just below the hollow of her throat. The small pendant was a piece of onyx with silver coloured metal around it, making it look as if the piece of black stone was the stomach of a cat.

The redhead reached the door and perked through the peephole to an odd sight; Darren was on the other side but he looked strangely...passionate? Alive? His eyes were too bright and his back wasn't ramrod straight. With the raging storm outside, he was also soaked to the bone and his hair, normally gelled and styled to perfection was wet and slightly disheveled. Glancing down to make sure her engagement ring was on, the redhead drew in a breath and opened the door.

"Darren, why are you here? It's getting kind of late and I'm sure your friends are missing you at your party," Kit's voice was soft but firm, even as Darren moved in a bit closer.

"I just missed you, and I wanted to see you," His voice held a tinge of something she couldn't name, and sounded a bit strange.

"Are you feeling okay?" She questioned. "Here, come in, I'll get you some water in the kitchen, and a towel," She turned without giving much thought and walked the short distance from the entrance to the kitchen, her mind drifting away as she got him a towel to drape about his broad shoulders and meandered to the cabinet and reached up to get a glass for her fiancé. 'Damn my height, She cursed inwardly, on her tip-toes and her fingertips just brushing the smooth glassware.

As she stretched the redhead didn't realize that the man in the room with her had come up behind her until she felt him pressing into her back as he effortlessly reached up and got a glass, slowly setting it on the counter to the side. Kit stood, stomach pressed into the counter and her fiancé pressing against her back

"Oh, ah...thank you," Kit swallowed thickly to keep herself from choking, a sour taste emanating from the back of her throat and a coldness beginning to form in the put if her stomach. Trying to ignore the alarm bells vaguely ringing in the back of her mind she went to the sink after he had moved, him hovering just a bit too long. Her shoulders stiffened as she began filling the glass. 'It's just my imagination. Darren isn't like that...'

Ever so slowly she reached and turned off the faucet, taking a deep breath. A scent that she had never caught lingered around the brown haired man, and instinctively her stomach twisted. Darren leaned down and nestled his face in her hair, breathing in as his arms brought her closer. Kit's body began to shake and stiffened. "What...what are you doing?" She cursed her trembling, tiny voice.

"We get married next week, I've been patient for so...so long," he muttered longingly, his words slurring together before he spun her around and bent her over the sink and crushed his mouth to hers, her arm flailing and d almost knocking the glass off of the counter.

Kit gave a shout of protest against the demanding kiss, struggling against Darren, but he had her body painfully pinned against the sink, the back of her head colliding with the faucet. Sickeningly she realized the strange scent and his behavior were because he was drunk, some fancy liquor she hadn't smelled before having disguised that fact. She pushed against his chest and managed to break their kiss. "Stop! S-stop, you're hurting me!" She cried out, her eyes closing and her feeling tears burn them, bile burning her throat. She choked as she felt his hardening length beneath his dark gray slacks.

"I've been patient but as you will be my wife, I won't feel guilty fucking you before we're married," the businessman grinned sloppily and hungrily down at her, eyes dark with lust. The redhead cried out in fear as he began grinding into her and grabbed a breast roughly.

'I feel like I'm dying,' She thought in a detached manner, feeling like she was being sucked away at Darren's onslaught, past and present blending together to create a horrid mash. She struggled and gave a scream as she broke free, sending the glass of water crashing to the floor. She tried to run, mind racing as scrambled a few steps before she was tackled to the ground clumsily.

Her scream for help ended in a gurgle as her breath was knocked out of her from the icy-eyed man's weight. He grinned, thinking his conquest was assured as his hands wandered freely. He made grunts and murmurs of satisfaction as he ripped her pants down. Kit felt her lips moving in senseless cries of terror and pleading as she felt him reach between her legs and roughly push two fingers into her.

"So warm and wet, you'll feel so good wrapped around my cock," he purred in her ear. Kit sobbed, a roar in her ears and her voice near hysterics as words poured from her—anything to make everything stop.

"No, no no, not again, not again, please no..." Kit blurted out, and she felt the man tense behind her and wrap a hand around her throat tightly. "Again?" He demanded coldly. "So you've spread your legs for someone else? My bride to be is damaged goods!" The brown-haired man snarled.

Kit shuddered and clawed at his hands as he applied pressure but after she scratched him with her long nails he hit her bluntly on the side of her head. Seeing stars, she was stunned and he took the opportunity to rip her underwear down now that she had ceased her struggling, unzipping his pants.

He began choking her as he pressed up against her. "Filthy slut," he growled as Kit's vision waned, greying around the edges and exploding with blue sparks. Her hands scrabbled against the tile desperately before she grasped something sharp but hard. Not caring that it dug deep into her hand and cut her flesh she brought it up and slammed it with all of her might into Darren's head.

She was released immediately with a loud cry of a curse, but she didn't tarry to catch her breath, blindly running from her house as she tugged her pants up, eyes wide and wild with fear. Her vision was blurred with tears, from her terror and pain, as well as raindrops from the torrential downpour of the storm outside. Darren was right on her heels, she felt and heard his angry stomps and grabs as she burst from her house but was able to slip through his fingers each time. Not able to see where she was going in her dash for escape her eyes were blinded by painfully bright light before she heard a blaring horn. Searing pain and impact stole away her consciousness before she even realized she had stumbled into the street...right in front of a car.

"Loup Égaré"- Misplaced Wolf

{*Made some minor edits 6-20-2015 as I found some wrong words. Ohhhh auto-correct.}