Chapter One
On the fateful night that she had left his presence, he thought as if he would die. What was life worth living now that she had chosen another? Was their love not true? After the guards had left the opera, Erik crawled down back to his home with caution. It had seemed like hours before he could do so. He came back in the way he had left, through the shattered mirror. His childhood thoughts were still relative today, with a mirror he could make anything disappear. Even himself if he wished, but sadly not his face.
Erik was vaguely concerned about the scattered papers and trinkets within his home. He had this one night to say goodbye, his destiny unknown but none of it mattered now. Walking over to where the water touched the cold cobblestones, he dropped down to the edge and looked. It was as if he was searching for something, as if something was lost deep within the waters. One single tear dropped from his disfigured eye and created ripples in his reflection. Erik let out a low laugh, the irony of that ripple, that metaphor he created instantly in his head. The presentation of his now unknown life; who was he? What will he become? In disgust he turned his head away and closed his eyes, he could not stand the sight of himself, no wonder Christine had felt the same.
Unaware of how much time had passed, not moving an inch, he was suddenly stirred by the sound of soft quick footsteps overhead. There was a mere second where he felt threatened by this but the sound was familiar; it was the very own Madame Giry. Her dancer steps kept her light, as if she was gliding along the floor. She would be there in a matter of minutes. Erik rose to his feet and wiped his face, looking for his mask that he had left there. It had been touched but no one dared to take it, there was a fear that lived within the mask itself. He placed it on his disfigurement, feeling as though no one should have to look at something so horrifying.
Madame Giry appeared in the stairs and came down to the gate that Erik kept locked, she gripped onto the bars. "Monsieur! You are alive I see, please let me in. Monsieur, please!" Erik did not look at her, he kept his glance down.
"But of course I am alive, Madame." he grumbled.
"My dear please, we have not much time. Let me in." She pleaded with him. Erik picked up his burnt figurine of Christine that he had lit on fire the other night before his disastrous Don Juan Triumphant.
Staring at her half burned plaster he replied, "Ah Madame, all we have is time. I have spent much of it here, much of it in love, and now I spend it in failure." He put down the figurine and looked over at Giry. "What is it that you come to me for Madame?"
"Meg and I have arranged for you to depart Paris. Of course we will come with you but we must leave. The guards are after you and they will return tomorrow. We have found a boat that we must get on but we haven't much time." Her voice was rushed, "Please Erik let me in."
"Why must I come with you? I have lived my life alone and it shall forever be so. I do not need your help. Good day Madame." Erik had begun to walk away when she called out to him. He stopped, back still turned to her.
"My dear what has been done is done. There is nothing for you here. Erik I have loved you as my own since I had rescued you, please do not leave me now. This is the worst time to be lonely. Come...please." There was sincerity in her voice that he could not deny, he believed her, he had his own compassion for her. Erik sighed, turned to her and nodded.
"Madame I am grateful for your love, I shall come." She smiled as he opened the gate and she hurriedly walked up to him.
"Merci, Monsieur, I do not know what I would do if I had to leave you here. Forever worried I would be. Now, grab little and let us go. Meg is waiting for our return." Erik grabbed few things. Some music sheets, money, masks, and a cloak that he threw on. Madame turned for the door and as she did he slipped into his pocket, a picture of his dear Christine and the burned figurine.
Erik stopped at the threshold and turned, taking one last glance at his home and departed. They rushed through the dungeons and up the stairs to the main floor of the opera. Meg was waiting on the stage, the lights were all down and all that could be seen was the faint glow of her single candle. They approached Meg and stopped, she hesitated as she looked up at the towering Phantom. "Let us go, we have not much time." Madame said, taking the candle from Meg and heading down stage right to an outside door on the side of the opera. She opened it to reveal an alley way that was lit only by faint street lights. Madame placed the candle on the ground after she had blown it out and they quickly walked to the harbor. Meg groaned as she grew weary from the walk but there was no time to stop, the boat was to leave within the hour. As they were walking along Erik quietly asked Giry, "Where do you plan on us staying? We must be out of sight."
"We will stay in the cargo hold, no one will come down there." said Giry. Meg sighed at this thought but was soon interrupted by her misery as she ran into the still Phantom.
"Oh! Sorry Monsieur!" Her voice rose as he turned to her, she was afraid of him still.
"Do be calm Mademoiselle; you are safe in my presence." He turned away, she was still frightened. Meg had found that they had stopped because they had reached the boat and were waiting for a time to slip in without notice.
Madame Giry spoke in a soft whisper, "Now my dears, être rapide! [be quick!]" They quietly snuck to the side of the boat, Erik going first as they slyly got through the door without notice.
Days had gone by; their destination unknown, the only importance was that they had left Paris and the guards. Meg and Giry had packed little food due to their sudden departure and all three quickly ran out. The two women often slept but Erik pondered alone, sitting high upon the cargo, looking out into the sea of boxes and barrels. Meg hardly conversed with him but she was no longer afraid either, she longed to speak with him. She often thought of how well he had trained Christine and how he could do the same for her, she could become a diva as Christine had but different; Meg would keep her fame and become rich beyond measure, she would respect her fame unlike Christine had.
One day, or night for the time was unknown to them, Meg sat alone with her mother and asked, "Mama, if I approached him, would he talk?"
"You want to converse with Monsieur? About what may I ask?" Giry could not believe this girl whom had once been terrified of even hearing his name, now wanted to know the man.
"Mama I want to see if he could train me, as he did with Christine."
"You must never mention her name again do you hear me? He may be kind but do believe me when I say he can be dangerous. Do not say her name in front of him, of fear your life if you must." Giry stared at Meg hoping that she would understand the importance of this. Meg nodded and sat quietly for a moment, pondering.
"But Mama...would he train me?"
"Train you? To sing? Ah my dear this is a very fragile idea. He may, yet he may not. You will be eternally lucky if he chooses to do so. He possesses a magnifique talent." Giry gave a small smile at this thought, remembering him grow into what he had, all of the talents at which he had required over time. Magnifique. This single word possessed his very being.
Meg sat for a few minutes and then stood, it was time to approach him, she had the courage and he seemed somber enough to talk to. Erik was hidden in a dark corner, his back against the interior of the boat and perched upon the highest stack of cargo. His head was laid down on his knees, the mask he wore, placed beside him-this made Meg hesitate. She stood in silence thinking that he would not know she was there. He spoke in a low soft voice that was almost entrancing, "Mademoiselle, what is it that you need?" His head was still on his knees.
Meg paused, took in a breath to calm herself and spoke, "Monsieur I do apologize for bothering you but I do wish to speak to you." Erik lifted his head but looked straight ahead so she would not see his deformed side; he picked up the mask and placed it on his face, then turned to her. He gestured to a spot next to him, she obliged and sat, not too close of course. "Monsieur I wanted to ask you-" He interrupted her.
"You wanted to ask if I may teach you to sing, correct?" He kept his voice low but it still over powered hers.
"Yes Monsieur. I would be eternally grateful. Hearing how well you help...I mean, how well you taught...Monsieur I apologize. I know how well your talent is and I would very much appreciate your assistance." Meg was silent then, she had almost mentioned Christine's name twice, how distraught he would have been if she had done so. Erik thought for a moment. His first thought was no but he was forever in debt to Giry for the countless times she had saved his life. He came up with a decision that would be best for all.
"Oui, Mademoiselle. I will help you. I must know that you will do what I say, for if not, you will not become what you dream." Erik became more somber yet he owed this to Giry.
"Merci, Monsieur!" She smiled with joy and no longer felt afraid of him, he was very kind. "When do we start?"
"Maintenant [Now]." He replied.
"Now let us begin." Erik stood next to Meg and had her do the same. "Do not hold back Mademoiselle, none of that will be tolerated. Let me hear a messa di voce." Meg nodded and began to sing, she felt confidant but as she glanced at the Phantom he neither seemed pleased nor interested. Once finished he sighed, "We must do some vocalises or you will achieve nothing." For hours they went through all the coloratura that he knew and each time he was unsatisfied he burst out, "Da capo! Da capo!" Over and over they did the same exercises and Meg soon became tired.
"Monsieur, I am terribly sorry, I am exhausted and fear I cannot go on much longer. Excusez-moi s'il vous plaît." Meg was worried of how he would respond but he just nodded and let her go. Once she left, Erik sat down back to his original spot and began to travel back in time to the days of which he yearned for. Those days he spent with Christine, when he taught her to sing, when she fulfilled him. Teaching Meg was nowhere near the same, though she had a fine voice, it was not what he wanted. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the picture of Christine and the figurine. He stared at her, longing to hear her sing once again, he grasped the figurine tight and swore one day he would fix it. He swore he would hear her sing and that they would once again be reunited. This time the Vicomte would not win.
As Erik was planning his revenge on the Vicomte, he was then interrupted by the sudden appearance of Madame Giry. He stared up at her in disbelief that she could sneak up on him without notice.
"Ah my dear a little slow are you now?" She said, "Look now Erik I know you may be in a difficile place for le moment, yet you must come to terms. Wherever we end up, we shall survive and build up a life once more. It is not the end."
"So you are right Madame, it is not the end, there is yet much more to come, much more." He snickered at the gruesome thoughts of what he would do when he found the Vicomte. Once he was finally reunited with his love, this time he would not lose her, he promised himself that.
"What thoughts you may have, do not count on them. We could land anywhere." She placed a hand on his arm and he cringed at the touch, "She is gone Erik, this you must come to terms with."
At this announcement he rose, his eyes full of fury; the only light-leaking down from a grate, shown on his mask, casting shadows over his eyes. Madame Giry staggered back at his rage and he grabbed her arms, leaned in close to her while trying to control his rage, he said, "All my life I have never been with love, never received nor given. This one chance I had and it was taken from me by one man! He will pay, Madame, mark my words for he will pay!"
Giry cried out to him, "Please Erik you are hurting me!" He let go, still enraged, stepping away from the light; he was now in complete darkness.
"Forgive me Madame." His voice was somber once again and he slid down the wall, invisible in the dark, a place where he belonged. Madame slowly backed away, knowing that as much as she loved him, he was dangerous and one strike could be fatal. She felt sorry for the poor man, the poor creature. He was lonely as he had been his whole life, even her company had done little yet when he was in the presence of Christine; it was as if his past had never happened. Giry hoped that the boat would dock soon. The close capacity of the three of them was filled with tension. Giry had not left his presence; she broke the silence with concern.
"Erik, we need your assistance. I apologize for the inconvenience...we are out of food. How much longer we shall be in here is unknown." She stopped, the silence was frightening.
"I will oblige Madame." At this statement, Erik rose and put on his cloak. He bowed to her and took off into the darkness, as mad as he had been, his love and debt toward her was not a force to be reckoned with.
He was the proper choice to be doing such a thing. For countless years Erik had crept along the walks of the Paris Opera without being noticed, walking past people in silence. He could make himself invisible and this was his time to put that to use. There was a door up on the celling that was closed and he climbed up a pile of cargo to the top. Slowly creaking as he pulled the handle down, Erik held his breath as to not make any noise. The door poped as it opened and he froze. Listening for any notice of the seamen coming toward the door. After minutes of stillness, Erik pushed open the door and stuck his head through a small crack. There was a faint red glow that pushed through the darkness. It revelaed a small room only large enough for one man, pipes ran along the walls and the celling. In front stood another door that was closed. Erik slowly opened the cargo hold door so that it made no noise and climbed out making no noticeable noise. Once standing in this compact room, he closed the door again to leave no trace of his presence, his mask glowed red in the light as the shadows cast over his eyes.
The next door out of this room was unlocked, he stood with his ear against the door for a momet and opened it to reveal a long dark hallway, perfect for him. Erik crept along the walls, taking light footsteps, gliding along the floor as if he was a ghost. In the far off distance he heard chattering of drunken men, laughter and music. it came from the floor abouve, it was night, the timing could not have been more perfect. Coming down to the end of the hallway, light shone from the top of a staircase, this was the time for him to be careful. He made no noise as he climbed the stairs. There were two routes he could take once he reached the top, a man stood with his back to Erik on one side, the other was flooded with men, drinks in hand. Stepping into the shadows, he took the safer side, he watched the man. He found this mans behavior to be odd, as the man slowly crept, looking from side to side. Erik followed behind, out of sight. The man came upon a white door and pushed it open only slightly, peered inside and walked in. Erik followed in as the door swung back and forth, quickly hiding behind a shelf. It was the kitchen, it looked like he wasn't the only one there for the same purpose. The man rummaged about looking, he found a bottle of rum and hid it in his coat though it was fairly obvious, the man ran out smiling.
It was safe once again for Erik to resume his duties and he opened drawers, cabinets and gathered all sorts of filling food, enough to last a week. He grabbed a bottle of wine and an old rice bag, putting everything into it, he hung it over him shoulder under his cloak. He was at ease on his way out the door, knowing that he had accomplished his goal, running from a drunken man would be easy if he had to. Instead of going the previous way Erik decided to explore the halls and rooms, he was in no hurry. There was a hallway he approached that was lit more then others, curious he krept along only to find a man at the end of the hall between him and a staircase. Quietly he slipped up the stairs which revealed the cold salty air of the sea. It was now out on the deck of the ship, nothing was noticeable except for the numerous stars overhead. Erik looked around unable to detect any other being around, and proceeded to walk out to the railings. The mist of the water splashed on his face, taking in a deep breath as all thoughts of his beloved Christine returned to his head. "Oh Christine...my Christine..." He hung his head over the iron bars keeping him from the cold waters down below. He yearned for her, was there any reason to live now? He could easily throw himself over the edge and dissapear forever, no one would miss him, no one would know. They thought he was dead anyway, this would make it official. They would find his body and it would be returned to Paris where they would carelessly barry it. Christine would hear of this and weep over her loss, her regret of not chosing him but he knew the truth. Still, that night that she had returned to him would not be forgotten, that was what kept him going.
Not Long Ago:
Madame Giry gave him warning two days before they had left. Now that the guards had settled down some, now that they had finished searching his home, it was safe once again for return. Little did they know that Erik had been watching their every move. Nothing went on in the opera without his notice, nothing. While the search was going on, he stayed in other rooms that no one knew of, secret rooms that he often escaped to when feeling in a state of solitude, wanting to be in the dark. In these times, his best music was often composed, nothing to distract it, thoughts flowed along with the melodies.
Erik heard the gossip, as he always did. Dear Christine was to be married to the Vicomte. In his rooms of solitude the pain burst through his heartless chest, willing to die; for what was there to live for? Those melodies consisted of pain screeching notes that would have made the foulest creatures cringe. There were times of loathing and times where he could have ended his life, yet there was a force driving inside, a force that kept him on the cold damp cobblestones. The effort to move seemed impossible, for days Erik stayed unmoving as all sounds echoed around him, those horrific sounds coming from him.
Once again he had woken in darkness, the dried salt on his face. Reaching to wipe it off, skimming over the deformation reminded me of who he was, a monster. No wonder Christine had left, who could bare this face? No one. That was the reality, his sad and lonely life worth nothing. Erik stood, aching from the stiff muscles but the pain felt inside did not compare to this. He had an urge to go back home, somewhere familiar, somewhere he could be even more miserable. Opening those secret trap doors, the master of his architecture, no one had found him and all was silent back in his chamber.
There was a gold shimmer of light coming through the grates and reflecting off the water. It was early morning and all was lit up, exactly what he did not want. He sought for the darkness that he had been in, the light burned as his eyes adjusted. The guards had sifted through papers, that was apparent yet nothing had appeared missing. Unaware of his movements, Erik found himself sitting at the organ bench, there upon the keys was a letter, folded and stamped with a gold seal. Lifting the corners and unfolding the paper, it read the following:
"Christine Daae
and
Raoul de Chagney
invite you to share in the joy
of the beginning of their new life together
when they exchnage marriage vows..."
The fury he felt as he read this set his body afire. The wedding was to be tomorrow evening, what a joyous event for them. Erik's body shook with rage as he stood up hitting the keys with a load burst, tearing the letter into pieces and throwing them out into the dank water. He watched as they slowly disappeared underneath the surface, wanting nothing more then to do the same. The notes carried out into silence from the organ and sighing, he decided to change. His clothes had been the same sense that dreadful day.
A change of pants, a new shirt and a green robe that gave me too many unwanted yet yearning memories. Giry, Meg and Erik were to leave the next day and it was time to decide what little to take with him. Realizing what all was to happen so soon, he knew it would be preferable to not be sober. The wine cellar was right below, something he had to take advantage of one last time. Taking a cold rusted key from within a silk lined box and headed to a door that was covered with curtains. Moving them aside, he put the key in the hole and opened up to darkness, feeling for the ladder to the barrels and shelves of wine. He grabbed as many as he could carry, even putting some in the large pockets of the robe and went back up to the unwanted light.
Placing the bottles upon the desk, he unscrewed one and took in a whole mouth full. It was sweet and bitter and it felt refreshing as it ran down his throat. This gave him an urge to compose, between the pain and the hype of the liquid, he began composing and singing. This was done all throughout the day, composing, singing, playing melodies and letting the cool liquid fall down his throat without notice. After long, much of the worry and pain had left, leaving his chest warm, as his eyes drooped. Feeling the need to retire, Erik cautiously stood and walked over to the bed and drew the curtains. Only candles were lit, it was a dark night, a moonless night. Letting the robe fall off his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt and letting that fall as well. The one item he was careful with, his mask; Setting it on a near by table and crawling into the embrace of the blankets. Hie eyes fell and there was silence, it was dark, it was peaceful.
He was unaware of how long sleep had taken over when a sudden clang sent his eyes open. His first instinct was to place the mask on and slid along the shadows in complete silence. There was a small light coming from a gated doorway next to the water. The little reflection of the light revealed curls upon a white dress. He must have been asleep, no one would dare come down here alone. Still, he crept slowly toward the figure, a small hand appeared through the grate trying to unlock the latch. He paused, that hand was familiar, so delicate and pristine, there was no possibility that it was..."Christine?" The hand stopped and a small, musical voice rose through the air, a voice he thought he would never hear again.
"Yes it is me. Will you let me in? I must talk to you." Erik was in shock but he did as he was told. The lock slid open and he pulled the door to reveal her in front of him. Barely being able to see her, it was too dark to see a thing, too dark to even try. She embraced him, he felt her hair as his chin rested upon her head, his arms holding her close, this was what he had always dreamed. This could have been it, they could have stayed in this embrace for an eternity and it would be enough. It was silent all around, he heard her pulse as if it was music in the air, there was singing in her veins. Eirk held her, touching his hands on either side of her face, feeling every line, every crease. The longer the embrace, the more comfortable they grew, and then the time had come. He bent his head down slowly and touched his lips to hers. Never before had he felt more alive. After moments of their passionate kiss, she took her small, delicate hands and took off his mask once again. She felt his face, every imperfection, she accepted him and the night began.
They were blind in the dark, as each soul gazed into each soul; she looked into his heart and saw me pure and whole. Cloaked under the night with nothing to suppress, a woman and a man, no more and yet no less. He kissed her, and caressed her, and the world around them fell away; they said things in the dark, they never dared to say. With a need too urgent to deny, and nothing mattered then except for her and him.
That memory had gone through his head everyday after that. He felt the pain from his loss as he yearned for a night such as that but he was there alone. His throat felt sore and dry, unaware of where they were to land only made it that much harder. How could he see her again? They had been on this ship for many days and yet had not reached a shore. He wanted to scream, to let out all of that pain and anger that had built up. He couldn't for fear that they would be discovered, his voice came out in a whisper.
"I...will hear you sing...once more." He sighed and gazed up at the stars above then continued on his was back to the cargo hold.
