Erik:
I let her go - and yet I could never let go. That single peck on the forehead was enough to make me want to die, but my body just would not give up. It was too stubborn for that - I was too stubborn for that.
As always, the underground was a cold, dark place that only a recluse like myself could find content in. But these days, I badly wanted to settle down. It had been a need of mine for a while, but it was an impossible feat. If Christine is reluctant to be my wife, then I am truly doomed to die alone and without purpose. Everyone took the normal life for granted, yet I would give any just to have it. Just to taste sweet wedded bliss - to have a special someone that would be brave enough to grant me children and a happy home with music abound and little walks on Sundays. O, how peaceful that sounded... and yet I will never have it.
Ayesha, the poor creature I called mine, brought back five rats from the cellars - all dead. I did not have anyone to feed and therefore I began to neglect myself. Even she noticed. The little, gray feline rubbed up against my thing and I struggled to lift up my head. She mewed and looked to her dead prey as if to tell me to dig in. I threw what remained of the wine bottle into the fireplace and it ignited. My mind played tricks yet again and for a moment, I could see the flames forming Christine's lovely figure - every naked detail as I imagined it. I was frightened by the image and shut my eyes tightly to blur it out of my head.
Ayesha mewed yet again, pressing into my leg, "Enough, my girl," my eyes drifted open, Ayesha now up to my face with her nose against mine, "You were very rude to her, you know? Scratching at her stockings, hissing when she tried to pet you - so immature."
She mewed again, off to eat one of her catches, and I became sickened with myself. I resorted to talking to Ayesha as if she were human and though I knew she could not understand me, I felt that talking to her would help to overcome all that plagued my mind. The sickness was maddening and I wanted only to die - every suicide attempt ending only in unconsciousness. How great it would be to fall victim to my lasso.
My little feline friend came to sit beside my foot, licking her bloody paws. She was a ruthless, disturbing cat - almost like myself if she were human. Again I began to speak to her as if she were a human, but I spoke unconsciously when my mind realized the lack of companionship.
"For the many I have killed, you still remain more violent than I. How is that ever possible?"
I looked finally to the door of my torture chamber, hopeful at last. Perhaps this was the final draw in my bout of suicidal attempts. Perhaps this ungodly device would put an end to my misery, which certainly couldn't get any worse as an ugly man living under the broken opera house in a sewer, no less. What else could I do at this point in my life but fade away peacefully in a death of boiling skin and bursting organs? I turned to the lever and pulled down the giant arm of the lion on the wall, finally glad that I couldn't escape this death.
My feline friend mewed as she noticed me headed into the chamber, trying to follow along, "No, my lady," I shoved her aside and opened the front door, "You still have a chance at love, dear. Go ahead - find your mate."
She looked up at me as if to cry, but solemnly left the underground dungeon I called home. The chamber door remained open and I stared for a moment at the landscape on the wall and the sand that covered the ground - it was Persia, my hell. What better place for me to die than one in which I killed many people and I was hunted down merely for resembling the devil. Then again, in what town wasn't I hunted? I couldn't think of a time in my life where I was truly free to live my musical lifestyle. Where people didn't enslave me because of a dark talent or keep me as a show to put on display. The closest I'd come to freedom was the Garnier and even then I had used my cruel talents to protect a name I had made - an utter waste of time.
Upon shutting the door, I felt the heat start to overwhelm my body and I sank into a corner of the room as the mirrors started to appear. Watching my skeletal frame waver in the heat of the room was quite the sight. I watched the ugliness of my face as my golden eyes reflected back at me like the sun would on a summer's day. My mind had become blurry and I took a deep breath as I heard it start to kick into higher and higher degrees. My vision was blurred with beads of sweat dripping from my forehead and I waited for the sweet release of death - first step being heat exhaustion. I wanted that moment so much but felt a strong grasp around my back and nothing but patterned silk was in sight. Who could this be?