Hello and welcome to my first foray into fanfiction!
WARNINGS! WARNINGS! WARNINGS!
I'm not fond of Christine so don't expect her to be kindly portrayed in this fic.
I love Erik! The opinions expressed below are not my own so no flames please!
This fic mainly centres around an original character! Please be warned! Though I hope that her character will prove interesting to the reader I know many people hate OC's with a passion so I'm warning you now.
Last of all, this fic is dark. Not happy. The plot mainly centres around hate and revenge. I don't want to traumatize anyone so consider yourself warned.
That being said, I hope you enjoy the fic.
Hate Incarnated
1871
Christine ran out onto the street. It was night. She ran blindly, head down and eyes closed her attention focused deep within herself where her thoughts screamed what have you done! Eventually, she stopped, exhausted, and opened her eyes. Christine looked around. She had no idea where she was. The cobbled street she was on was home to a few rickety houses and an ancient looking church. Christine sighed. She should have been feeling panicked at the thought of being lost but what did it matter when she had so many other things to be panicking about?
Christine shuddered and walked up to the church. The pitch black of the interior was broken only by the prayer candles beside the altar. Christine saw that she was alone and went and knelt in the front pew. There, in the comforting darkness, she finally calmed down enough to think about what she'd done.
Oh God.
Christine choked back a sob and raised her eyes to the crucifix which dominated the altar.
She'd slept with Erik.
The horror which accompanied this thought made Christine gag violently. She held her throat and tried to force down the bile which rose. How could she have done that? How had it happened? Christine clenched her teeth and tried to rationalize.
She had been confused, lost, since the events of Don Juan. She had just wanted to visit the Opera, one last time, before committing herself to Raoul forever.
She remembered going to the Opera Populaire…….gutted by fire it had been a sorry sight. She remembered slipping into the corridors below….they had escaped most of the fire…the stone which lined the passageways wasn't flammable. Then…..what had she done? Oh yes, she had gone to Erik's compartments. They had been in shambles. Pieces of glass still littered the ground and most of his beautiful things had been taken by the crowd that had come down to hunt him. She had been looking around, trying to figure out why she felt like she had to come back here when she loved Raoul. She loved Him! She really did. So why the urge to see the underground lake again?
Then she'd seen him.
He was looking at her from the inside of a broken mirror. Erik. The phantom. The man whom she had at once feared and worshipped. Christine thought back. After that everything had been a blur. She couldn't remember clearly. She….she had followed him….Where had she gone? An….an apartment? She couldn't remember clearly. She'd been in a daze, it was almost as if she hadn't had control of her body and her mind had suddenly switched off. They'd had sex in that apartment. Christine shuddered. She'd been taken, she was a virgin no longer. It wasn't as if he raped you! Her mind screamed at her. You were very willing!
I didn't know what I was doing! She screamed back. It's not my fault!
Christine fumbled for self-control. Now was not a good time to panic. She still had to figure out what had happened and what she was going to do. Christine ran her hands over her face. After the sex she'd fallen asleep for a time, still in that daze. But when she'd woken up and seen Erik lying beside her she'd been brought back to reality painfully. She'd muffled a scream……and gotten dressed as quickly and silently as she could, terrified lest she'd have to face him again. She'd run out into the night and now she was here.
Oh God in Heaven, What was she going to DO!
Christine quelled another onslaught of panic. It was alright. She could still fix this. Raoul didn't know, and there was no way she would ever tell him. Erik on the other hand……Well, she'd write him a letter, saying that what had happened was a mistake. She could say she regretted it, and charge him that if he had ever loved her to tell no one of what happened. For the first time since her arrival in the church Christine felt her panic start to ebb away. Yes, everything would be fine. She could marry Raoul and think of all of this as just a bad dream. Christine gave a shaky smile as she gazed at the cross.
"Child? What are you doing here?" A hunched over old priest was gazing at her from the doorway into the sacristy. Christine stood up.
"I'm sorry Father. I'm lost and I didn't know where else to go."
The old priest came out of the doorway and walked towards her. "No need to be sorry child. Tell me where you live. I'll get one of the local boys to take you there."
Relieved Christine gave the street on which Raoul had an apartment. Suddenly, even the decrepit old church seemed more friendly. Yes, Christine told herself firmly, everything would be alright. No lasting effects would be had because of tonight's mistake.
No one, neither Christine as she went home in a wagon, or Raoul as he lay up in wait for her, or even Erik lying asleep in his apartment had any idea of just how wrong she was.