A Phantom's Claim
Chapter One
Still lost in her fairy-tale ending Christine pulled the long heavy red drapes over the window which exposed the darkness of the night. Now the only light source was that of the candle by her bedside and yet Christine was not afraid, not any more.
Christine's nightmare was over, and now her dreams could begin. It had been two days since The Phantom of the Opera had let her go from his possessive grip and now Christine was in the care of Raoul in his great mansion house. Their wedding plans were made and set. Tomorrow they would be wed and at last Christine could move on from her dreadful affair with the Opera Ghost. She had read in the papers the Opera Populaire was no more. The managers had fled with the money they had made and the cast of the opera were already looking for a new homes. Lucky for Christine her home was now with Raoul.
Raoul had already retired to his bed in another room of the grand house hours ago but despite being so enveloped in her new world Christine could not sleep. She returned to her bed and laid her fragile body down on top of the silky pink fabrics. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly shut.
If the nightmare was over, why did her heart still quake with fear? Why couldn't she escape into her dream world?
The house was completely silent most of the time but at night Christine could hear its old wood creak as the air around it cooled. There was never any music in the house, no unless she made it. And from time to time Christine found herself missing the busy and musical life she lived at the Opera Populaire. But Christine was happy, or so she told herself when a part of her started to yearn for something more. But yearning for what? What was that something that was missing?
This was Christine's happy ending. Book closed.
After all those hours of torture Christine slipped into her dream world at last and found peace in them. Here she could be free from all those who would bid to hurt her. Here angels soared and the Opera Popularie was still full of beauty and music. Anything was possible in dreams.
However Christine was completely innocent to the presence that had joined her in the room. The dark shadow slid across the floor, undetected by all in the house. The shadow paused by Christine's bed and peered over her, casting its own murky shadow across her pale soft skin, caressing her with its darkness.
Erik's cold grey eyes blazed. They grazed the body of the sleeping angel, taking in the beauty of her womanly curves under the white nightdress and lacy undergarments. How Erik longed to see the flesh underneath her fine skirts and undergarments. He desired to rip her corset from her and finally feel the weight of her soft breasts in his strong hands. How he ached for his Christine. His Christine.
Before Erik could lose himself in the swell of desire he gently slipped his hands then arms under Christine's light sleeping body. She was like a rag doll in his arms as he lifted her and then carried her from the fortress of her bed. Erik smiled to himself arrogantly. He was going to steal his bride away right under the Vicomte's perfectly sculpted nose. He moved with stealth through the Vicomte's home and then silently out of the open window on the bottom floor. Erik had paid off a servant to leave it open for the night.
With his young bride defenceless in his powerful arms Erik carried her off into the night and into a carriage that he had waiting for them. He gently placed Christine inside and laid her down on the plush red seats. She groaned quietly and reached out her hand, feeling about as if looking for her blanket. Gently Erik wrapped her in his long black cape and he closed her inside the carriage, quickly locking it with the latch on the outside.
"Sweet dreams, my Christine," he cooed.
Covered by darkness Erik drove the carriage from the Vicomte's home and down the dark cobbled streets, passing the ruins of the opera house he had once haunted as the Opera Ghost. Erik smiled darkly, remembering when he first heard Christine's voice. He knew then had had to have her then; he had never ached for a woman with his heart, soul and body ever before. He had to claim her as his.
Christine woke to new surroundings. Her eyes grew with terror and her heart pounded in frustration. She quickly sat up and saw she was encased in a very familiar black cape. It was almost as if Christine had forgotten how to breathe. She just couldn't believe this was really happening. After all she had thought Erik was dead.
As she became more aware she realised that not only was she in a carriage, but this carriage was moving quickly and light was trickling in the small gap between the little black curtains that covered the window. How long had they been on the move? Where were they going? Many questions buzzed through Christine's mind but there was only one word on her pale pink lips.
"Erik…" she whispered.
Finally the carriage drew to a halt and Christine could feel some movement up above. Her heart began to leap as she listened for him but there was no more noise. And then she saw him, just a glimpse through the two curtains. Christine cringed as the latch on the carriage door slid across and before she could do anything the door was thrown open to reveal her captor.
Erik looked in at the horror stricken Christine and grinned with a menacing sort of satisfaction. He knew she was surprised to see him, after all rumours were spreading like the Opera Populaire's fire that the Opera Ghost was dead. But Erik was very much alive.
"Good morning, my dearest," he said in a mocking tone. "Have we had a pleasant journey?"
Christine did not dare to answer; she knew her voice would quiver and fail her. But Erik could see the fear in her big blue eyes and he savoured it like fine wine.
Suddenly he reached into the carriage, offering Christine his pale hand. But Christine shied away and made a quiet whimper just like a scared child.
"Oh come now," Erik chuckled smugly. "It would be so rude of me not to offer my bride my hand to help her from our carriage."
Erik loved the affect the word "bride" had on her. Christine's eyes widened to twice their size and her pale cheeks began to burn a bright red. He offered her his hand once more but this time when she refused him he reached out to grab her.
Christine swiftly moved out of the way and threw herself towards the door, hoping to knock over Erik or just push by him. But her escape plan failed miserably. Erik simply grabbed his cape that was falling off her and threw it over her head. He then swiftly moved in and wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her up against his hard body but he was careful not to lose his mask in the scramble.
"Now that is no way to behave for you groom, my dear," Erik hissed angrily into her covered ear. "And if you make another escape attempt then I will punish you for it, wedding day or no wedding day."
Erik could feel Christine shudder in his arms. He was sure he would have no more trouble from then on.
Suddenly he lifted her over his back, with very little effort, and with his bride still shrouded in his cape he continued on towards their destination.
Erik had bought a very secluded cabin in the woods and had filled it with the luxuries he knew Christine would enjoy such as plush bed, sofas, a bath and a closet full of the finest dresses he could buy. The cabin was a good distance from any city or even town. The nearest place was a little village made up of very little. Erik was quite sure they would have no trouble from the village or anyone who sought them as the cabin was well hidden. Erik had arranged all of this for his Christine the day she had left his side. But now his plan was complete and as he carried his bride into their new home he promised himself his Christine would be by his side forever.
Christine finally cried out when she felt the pounding of Erik's feet on the stairs of the house. Even though she was shrouded she had a feeling of where he was taking her and it was the last place she wanted to be with Erik.
Erik carried his bride into their bedroom and gently placed her down onto the bed. He suddenly ripped away the cape from her and grabbed Christine's thin wrists. Before she could react he was swiftly binding them together with strong rope. Erik really had thought everything through.
He pulled back to admire his work and then roughly pushed her head down onto the plump feather pillow. Christine jolted with surprise but Erik held her in place as he tied her bare ankles together too.
"You are mad Erik!" Christine cried. "Whatever makes you think you'll get away with this? Didn't you think that Raoul would come looking for me?"
"You have driven me to madness Christine," Erik quickly retorted as he put on his cape again. Erik towered above Christine like an omnipotent being. He looked her up and down with blazing eyes and he sneered threateningly. "Rest assured Raoul will never find you. I would be surprised if he hasn't forgotten about you already and moved onto the next young beauty!"
"He wouldn't!" Christine protested.
But Erik was in no mood to argue. He had plans already made and would not let Christine ruin them by using up time. He turned to the door and made a move to leave but Christine's cry made him stop once more.
"Where are you going?" she cried. "Please Erik, please don't leave me here alone," her soft voice begged.
She just couldn't bare to be left alone. She didn't even know where they were.
Erik smiled softly at her and took a moment to lean down and kiss her forehead. "I will be right back with your surprise," he promised her with a devilish grin. "So please stay put my darling and I'll be right back for you."
Erik left the room and quickly locked the door behind him. He could still hear Christine sobbing as he descended the stairs. But Christine could cry and beg for help as much as she pleased, because no one was around to hear her pleas. No one apart from her groom.
Christine's water rimmed eyes studied the room urgently. She felt like she had been stolen out of her dream and thrust into the middle of a nightmare that was only getting darker and grimmer as it went on. She knew she couldn't just lie back and wait for Erik to return for her. Instead she composed herself, silenced her cries and fought against her bindings, hoping that in his haste Erik had not tied them properly.
But they only got tighter as she struggled.
"Please," she whispered, begging a higher power to free her. "Please." But no one answered her pleas for help, not even her God. Christine tensed as she realised just how much trouble she was in. There was no Raoul this time to come for her, no angry mob and she knew that even her kiss could not break Erik's determination.
She was trapped.
Loathing her surrender Christine lay on the bed and listened to the birds outside. Apart from them there was no noise. No busy streets, no music and no voices. Just nature. She envisioned the trees around the house, wondering how long the forest stretched and how far they were from any society. But these thoughts stressed her even more, as Christine secretly knew she was nowhere near home. So she turned her attention again to the room around her. It reminded her of her room in Erik's home under the Opera house. He had obviously gone to some effort gathering such luxurious items together in two days. Christine couldn't help but wonder how he managed to fund it all. Perhaps he paid with another man's blood. After all Erik was a murderer…a cold blooded killer.
A violent shiver rode up Christine's back, making her jolt in the bed. A sickening feeling began to spread in her stomach as she thought of how easy it would have been for Erik to just kill her when she had been sleeping. Christine had not even stirred when he had taken her. But thankfully Erik wanted something from Christine, and she knew exactly what this was.
Erik wanted to own her, possess her. He believed he had a claim on her and had taken her from Raoul to assert that claim. And what could Christine do about it now? Nothing.
Christine closed her eyes and lost herself in her thoughts. She couldn't stop thinking about Raoul and how he would react to her abduction. He would be distraught. Christine knew he would come after her, she hoped he would. She did not want to just disappear into a life of being a prisoner. She didn't want to be owned by a murderer.
All of a sudden there was a loud bang from below. Christine's eyes shot open, just in time to see the bedroom door swing open to reveal Erik. He regarded her with impatient angry eyes before storming over to the closet. Christine watched as he grabbed a white dress from the rail and threw it onto the bed.
Finally he gave her full eye contact, but his stare made Christine so uneasy she had to look away. She almost found herself wishing she was alone again.
"My darling," he sneered sarcastically. "It is time for our wedding ceremony to begin and you aren't even dressed yet."
"Erik," Christine stammered quietly.
He was by her side in a second, leering over her. With his mask on it just made him look all the more menacing.
"Yes my dear?" he asked softly.
"Please don't do this," she whispered, regretting it as soon as she had spoken.
A loud manic laugh erupted from Erik's misshapen lips and he turned away from her, returning to the dress. He began to unlace it at the back and prepared it for his nervous bride.
"I wonder if I will have to dress you myself," he began with a mischief smile. "Or will you obey me Christine?"
Christine continued to avoid his eyes, still quivering in her binds as she dreaded the wedding. But this wouldn't do for Erik. He paced over to her and snatched up her face in his hands, leaning down so they were forehead to forehead.
"Look at me Christine, you foolish child," he snarled furiously. "Look into the eyes of your future husband!"
To his surprise Christine met his glare. Her eyes were soaked with tears and narrowed hatefully.
"Don't look at me that way Christine," Erik growled. "You made this happen and deep down you know that you deserve this."
"You're mad," she hissed in reply and tried to turn her face away. But Erik caught her again with his strong hands.
"Look at your mad husband when he talks to you," Erik demanded.
Christine glared at him, her eyes full of disgust.
Gently Erik trailed his finger down from Christine's soft jaw bone to the nape of her neck where he took a firm hold.
"You will get ready for our wedding," he ordered inflexibly. "I will be back up to fetch you in twenty minutes and if you aren't ready I will drag you downstairs as you are."
Christine gulped heavily.
"Do you understand?" Erik asked.
Christine gave a slow gentle nod, still staring down at Erik's hand around her throat. He lightly squeezed, making her cry out in horror.
"Good," Erik grinned and pulled away. He quickly untied his bride and before she could make a move he stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut, quickly locking it behind him.
Christine stared after him. The tears were running down her soft pale skin now and she wondered if she could ever stop them flowing.
This was it, she thought to herself fearfully.
She was going to be Erik's bride.
