Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!
Author's Note: Hello all! I have finished Mind of the Misanthrope, but do not have time to start another novel due to a strenuous school schedule. I had this oneshot enter my mind a few days ago and I really wanted to write it out. It seems I have developed a love and knack for writing oneshot, morbid, horror stories. …..Well, I hope you enjoy this. As always, please read and review!
The Well
Christine stared blankly across the quiet, misty lake. In her trembling hands, she clutched Erik's ring like a lifeline as she neared the decrepit well near the lake's edge. After searching endlessly in the catacombs she had grown accustomed, she could not locate Erik's body. After that fateful night, her masked maestro had asked only one thing of her.
In the event of his death, he would ensure an obituary would be in the Parisian paper. Once she read the obituary, she was to return to his home by the lake and return the ring he had gifted to her, leaving his body in the home he had built. Two days ago, Christine was horrified to find three simple words, 'Erik is dead,' in the paper the morning before her marriage to Raoul de Chagny. Her future husband was, of course, ecstatic that Erik met his demise whereas Christine's heart had broke in her chest into thousands of pieces that scattered endlessly in her soul.
As traumatic as the events Erik caused were, she never wished anymore harm or hurt to come to him. He was kind and loving underneath his façade of terror and ruthlessness. The well had served as a center point in their relationship over the years. Many times she would come to the well and utter her wishes and desires that lay dormant within her heart, whispered into the well's black mouth. Her secrets were then not her own.
As she neared the well, tears welled up in her eyes. Erik had been her confidant and closest friend in the subsequent years after her father's death. He had helped her voice become amazing, beyond what any other mundane, ordinary vocal teacher could even dream. His music swirled in her head in an unending symphony that both haunted and allured her. Even in death, he had a profound effect on her.
Her voice cracked only in the beginning of the requiem she sang for Erik's memorial. Her voice soured out in a beautiful wave, its only audience was the simple breeze that gently caressed the lake's black surface. Christine reached her clenched fist, the ring encapsulated tightly within its grasp, as she neared the abyss of the well.
As her song concluded, she whispered the words that had long wished to free themselves from her lips, "I love you, Erik. May your soul finally find peace and may we find each other in the next life. I love you always, your Christine."
Reaching the edge of the well, she prepared herself to let go of the ring that had long been a symbol of the undying connection between her and Erik. Unclasping her clenched fist one finger at a time, she almost let go of the ring when a loud noise startled her…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*Two Weeks Later*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*
"Erik! Answer the door, damnit!" The Persian beat his calloused hands on his masked friend's door in frustration. Raoul de Chagny had contacted him after Christine did not reappear when she went to bury Erik's body.
The Vicomte then informed Nadir that he received a poignant, but bland letter from Christine the next day after her disappearance, stating, she could not go through with the marriage when she loved the masked man. She had realized her feelings the night he let them go.
Raoul was devastated to learn this and asked Nadir to check on Christine to ensure that the letter's content was the truth and that his former fiancée was indeed happy and wished to remain with Erik. The Persian had been reluctant to agree. After all, he and Erik had parted ways bitterly after that night, Erik promising death should Nadir decide to intervene in his affairs again.
Beating on the wooden door with his fists, Nadir exclaimed, "Erik! I just want to…"
The door swung open so swiftly, Nadir took a step back instinctively. The masked man appeared in the threshold. His black cloak concealed his evening –clad form as the full-faced white mask glared at the Persian man in the dim light emitting from Erik's home.
A deep, strongly melodic voice penetrated the desolate air, "Ah, Nadir, why have you decided to pay Erik a visit today? What do I owe the pleasure?"
The masked man's uncharacteristically calm demeanor unnerved the Persian as he warily watched Erik move aside, welcoming him into the house. As Nadir entered, he was met with a faint, putrid smell that he could not quite place. Though, it was certain that Erik, himself, also smelled like that. Shrugging his shoulders, Nadir turned to his former friend.
Removing his Afghan hat, Nadir stared into Erik's deep, golden gaze for a long time before forming the words he wanted to say to the masked man.
"Erik, where is Christine?"
The masked man laughed quietly, undisturbed by the question, sending violent cold chills to course through the Persian's spine. The air had dropped in temperature as Erik answered his question, completely nonchalant.
"Why, my friend, Christine is here with me… She has chosen to remain here with me….If you or that damn Vicomte believe you will take her away, against her wishes, you both are sadly mistaken!"
"No one wants to take her away from you against her wishes…It is her choice to remain here, is it not, Erik? You have not manipulated or coerced her into staying, have you? If so, it is entirely unfair of you to keep Mademoiselle Daae here when she should be in the world. She is so young…"
"Do not presume to know what my love wants, Nadir!" Erik hissed with dangerous venom in his tone as he side-stepped his foreign visitor to the grand piano where he had previously sat. Nadir spotted the music as Erik began to play with great fervor.
As the masked man lost himself to Hector Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique, Nadir's eyes darted around the house, looking for any sign of Christine. When he found no sign of life other than the masked man's, Nadir's stomach sank.
The masked man had closed his eyes, oblivious to his friend's presence in his home, though vaguely aware of his surroundings. Taking a deep breath, the Persian grasped the cold brass knob of the door that led to the Louise-Phillipe room where Christine had formerly resided.
Turning the knob, Nadir gently pushed the door open. As soon as the door swung open, the foul smell he had encountered earlier hit him so hard, he had to swallow the bile that leapt up in his throat. The sight before his eyes sent the foreigner to his knees.
"Allah! This cannot be real!" He coughed as vomit burned a trail up his throat, threatening release. He clenched his chest, to stop his thundering heart. His ears were ringing so loudly, he did not even hear the music suddenly stop.
Upon the bed lay Christine…dead…Her once stunning blonde curls were now clumped together and falling out. Her peaceful, 'sleeping,' expression did little to abate the blue and rotting flesh of her formerly beautiful face. She appeared to be sleeping on the bed, but Nadir dared to approach her form.
Her chest did not rise or fall. The young girl's decomposing body had been slowed due to the extremely frigid temperatures of the catacombs. Her blue arms folded across her rigid chest, hands clasped together.
Her flesh was peeling off in some areas, which horrified the Persian. He had seen many awful things in his life as a police chief, but this was by far, the most disturbing. As much as he loathed it, he had to find out what had killed…or who…the former opera star.
As he neared her fallen form, Nadir halted at the sound of Erik entering the room. Turning to face the masked man, the Persian spat, "How could you harm the girl, Erik? Allah, she was only a child! What did you do?"
"I did NOTHING, Khan! She is FINE! Can you not see that she is resting?" He retorted venomously.
"Erik, she is NOT fine. She is DEAD! Why did you kill her?"
"I did no such a thing! What a vile thing to say! She was sleeping when I found her!"
"Erik, come here."
The masked man hesitated momentarily, debating his options, before slowly approaching Nadir's kneeled form by the bed. Taking Erik's cold hand, he placed it on Christine's peeling face. Snatching his hand away as if he had touched a scorching fire, Erik violently shoved the foreigner before releasing a loud wail.
Holding his masked face in his arms, he lamented to his friend, "It is my fault, Nadir. She was not supposed to be at the well!"
"What do you mean, Erik? Well?"
"I put the obituary in the paper to make her come back…just so we could talk…even if it was to be the last time…I wanted to see if she would keep her word…if she were to be loyal to me one last time…And she did! Glorious Christine! My beautiful Christine returned to do as I had asked. I watched her from afar as she searched for my corpse…She wouldn't find it, you see…"
"Get to the point, Erik…"
"She gave up on finding my body and went to the well…She was going to toss my ring in our well, our special place. She knew that would please me…Then she said she loved me…that she hoped we found each other in the next life…She LOVED ME, Nadir! How could I let her leave me then? How could I let her go, knowing she returned my love? So, I called out to her…"
The masked man fell silent…His arms dropped to the ground as he sat by the door utterly listless. The Persian tried to avoid deep breaths, feeling light-headed from rancid smell. He closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Then, what happened, Erik? What happened to her?" Nadir's whispered questions swirled around the room before met with contemplative silence. Then, the silence transformed into heart-wrenching weeping.
The Persian could take no more, and crawled over to his masked friend and pressed his back against the wall next to him. Rotating his head in Erik's direction, Nadir once again repeated those two questions before Erik responded in a weak voice.
"She startled at my voice and fell back. Hitting her head against the stone ledge as she tumbled into the…well…I rushed to the well and called out for her. She did not respond. The well is deep…and too dark, even for my keen eyesight. I worked as fast as I could…The water had been drained to a minimal level; she would have been wet…that's all…"
He quieted for a moment, briefly reliving the ordeal in his mind. Nadir swallowed some bile with great difficulty. He would need to leave the room soon…Erik sighed angrily as he gestured wildly, finishing the story.
"By the time I pulled her back to the surface, I realized she was…was…d-dead. Oh Daroga! My heart shattered! Her neck, her little neck snapped when she hit her head…I should not have startled her…I could not leave her body there…and I knew the damn boy would come looking for me soon…So…"
"You wrote the letter…but why not bury her?"
"She deserves to be worshipped! Can you not see that? She deserves to be immortalized! If she could not be with me in life; she will be by my side in death!"
At this, Erik began to maniacally laugh and Nadir quivered from the intensity of the masked man's rant. He was lost to madness… Suddenly, Erik stopped laughing and grabbed the Persian's forearms with brute strength. His fiery gold eyes in sunken eye sockets bore into Nadir's blanched face. Nausea filled Nadir's stomach as Erik's death smell washed over his senses along with Christine's decaying body nearby.
"You must be the one to end it for me, comrade! You must bury Christine and me together…by the well! I have already marked where our bodies should go!"
"No, Erik, I-I c-cannot do that…"
"Sure you can! I will take my concoction and I will die peacefully…All you have to do is help me carry her body to the well."
His intense gaze and intoxicating voice made Nadir comply with his request in a mechanical fashion. Soon, he found himself standing next to the well with Christine's body lying perfectly atop her marked grave.
With horrified fascination, he watched as his masked friend smoothed the wrinkles in his best evening suit before ingesting the poisonous potion. Within ten minutes, Erik's labored breathing had subsided into a deadly silence as he lay next to Christine's rotting corpse. His gold orbs slowly disappeared into darkness. After Nadir finished burying the two next to the well, he returned aboveground, forever haunted by what had transpired in the catacombs.
Raoul received a letter from Nadir Khan not long after he requested his services. When he opened the envelope, he read the letter in utter surprise.
"Vicomte, I have seen for myself that Christine and Erik have wished to create a life for themselves. She wished me to beg you for forgiveness for her childish behavior and that she wishes you a lifetime of happiness. She is happy with her choice to be with the masked man."
Two weeks from when he received the letter, Raoul was disappointed to hear that Nadir Khan had passed away due to a respiratory illness thought to have been received from the frigid air in the Opera House's catacombs. He was respectably buried in a small cemetery outside Paris while the two graves by the well disappeared below the swell of the many tides of Erik's lake.
Author's Note: That's it. I hoped you enjoy this little bit of madness and darkness wrapped into one. I hope to do more of these one shots…and possibly combine them into one collection to be easier to read and comb though. Let me know what you thought of this!
Thank you!
Sincerely,
RainsPhantom