"Angels pure, angels radiant,

Carry my soul to heaven!"

I fell into the depths of hell.

I tried to cry out, but Erik restrained my arms and silenced me by shoving a sweet-smelling cloth over my mouth and nose. I gasped for breath, feeling myself falling away in the arms of death. The scent filled my head with colors, then dissolved to black, and my limbs fell limp as I was dragged down, down, down, into the depths of the earth.

I opened my eyes again and found myself in the boat, enclosed on all sides by darkness save those two glowing eyes and the lantern at the prow. My heart threatening to shatter my ribcage, I attempted to push myself off the front and drown in the opaque water, a far more pleasant fate than whatever Erik had planned. But he caught my skirts. The hem tore, the sharp sound reverberating around us, and pulled me back into the boat.

"Be patient!" He told me, as if I were an irritating child.

I sobbed and screamed, trying to writhe away, so he forced the horrible cloth over my face again, even though I shook my head and pleaded with wide eyes. But my vision dissolved the darkness once more, and I slipped away.

When I woke, dazed and disorientated, taking in the familiar drawing room, I found myself on the sofa. The cushions of this were crimson, and in my state of mind I had a sudden fear that it was my blood! But I was unharmed, as I realized quickly when my lucidity fully returned.

I couldn't see Erik, so I darted to the front door. But his doors weren't exactly doors, and they only opened to him, so I hit my fists against the surface and cried out in pain.

He was going to kill me! I knew he would, I had tried to run away, lost his ring, he had vowed revenge on me if I did such a thing... Oh, that's why he had said 'be patient;' he wanted to kill me himself!

I collapsed against the door, panic enveloping me as I wept. Without warning, it opened, pushing me to the side, and I curled up in the corner of the room, near the dining room doorway. I was shaking all over like I had been out in rain.

Erik was pulsating with madness. His eyes gleamed with it, his hands twitched, but his face, that was covered in a shroud of black fabric. He slammed the door behind himself and I clutched my legs tight enough to bruise.

"Good evening, my little Christine," he said. "What a pleasant opera that was. You sang better than you ever had before. The angels wept once again... But," he sighed sorrowfully, "you tried to deceive your poor Erik. And you lost his ring, which you swore you would never lose... Well, my deceitful Christine, I have a gift for you, as I always bring you gifts."

"Erik, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I pleaded, shrinking further into the corner. "Please, please, I didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Didn't mean to hurt me?" He asked, his words coming out calm but his movements betraying that his mind was a thread about to snap. "What a curious notion, never hurt me..." He chuckled. "Never hurt your poor Erik... Well, have you ever been stabbed?"

I gave a choked sob, and he laughed hideously.

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant, my dear, I'm not going to hurt you, stop trembling... Is it cold down here for you? I have the a fire in the fireplace. Go on, warm yourself, we have much to discuss, much to decide, and we mustn't tarry with this, for I've waited quite long enough... You're not cold, then? Then let me explain myself, as I always do to you when you ask. It felt like I had been stabbed... No, no, that's not quite right, I've been stabbed before, and this was far worse. A knife cannot do the harm that you did, when you said you were fond of Erik, you called him your friend, and that you looked upon him without fear and told him you didn't see his face anymore!... Well, we both know that's a lie, so I'll be wearing my mask until I die now, which I hope won't be prolonged." He cackled hideously. "You know what, my little Christine, I want you to put on the white dress I bought for you! How pretty you looked in it the other night, when you visited your dear friend Erik, like an angel, an angel! And now you lie and betray me?... Now, don't take long. You don't need a bath, just the dress. You'd be tempted to drown yourself, and you need to be patient, for Erik loves you and wishes to give you whatever you want!"

"Then set me free," I pleaded.

He laughed, "Get dressed! Go on! Then I'll show you your gift!"

"What is m-my gift?"

"Oh, did I say gift? Gifts. Two of them. You get to choose your preference! Now get dressed."

"Please Erik-"

"Did you listen to Erik's pleas when he begged for your affections?!" He cried, bending over me. "Did you?! No! You ran away, like everyone! And you knew very well that he would die without you, even though you said," he started to mock my voice, "'take care of yourself while I'm gone, Erik,' 'you're my dearest friend, Erik,' 'let me look upon you without fear, Erik!' All a lie! You told the boy how much you despised and feared me! I heard, I was there, statues have keen ears, my dear! They told me, 'Christine doesn't love Erik! Christine hates and fears Erik and wants to run away!' And you would have run away, so now we shall be certain that you never can again!"

He cackled madly, and I slid away to my room, panting as I shut my door, my heart thudding in my throat.

The white dress was in my closet, and I snatched it out. I was weeping and trembling as I undid my costume and pulled on the evening gown I had only worn once. It had pearls on the collar, real pearls! And such fine fabric... soft as silk...

He would kill me in this dress. That's why he wanted me to wear it, to contrast the blood, oh, I couldn't bear it! What would he do to me? Lock me in the torture chamber?!

There was a knock on the door, and I jumped with fright.

"I have to see my banker!" Erik told me happily. "Get cleaned up and dressed, my little Christine, then you can open your gifts!"

He laughed hideously, slamming the door behind himself as he left the house. The sound resonated in my head like a bell, and I forced my hands over my ears to quiet it.

"Lord, help me," I pleaded, turning to the wall.

I couldn't die by his hand. I couldn't bear his madness! He would surely torment me for days if he saw fit, so I had to end this now.

I darted over to my dresser, rummaging around for the scissors. A cry of despair I didn't know I was capable of issued from my throat as I found he had removed them, and I turned to the Toile de Jouy wallpaper, my tongue dry.

I approached it fully, standing in front of the wall, not comprehending my own ideas. Without thought, without a word, I rammed my head against the surface, beneath which was stone. Then again I indulged this, screaming in pain. The metallic taste of blood dripped onto my lips and mingled with salt from my tears.

I did it again. And again, staining the Toile de Jouy like I had been careless with a glass of wine. But before I could make any more attempts to be rid of this hell, I fell unconscious.

Anges pure, anges radieux,

Portez mon âme au sein des cieux!

Dieu juste, à toi je m'abandonne!

Dieu bon, je suis à toi, pardonne!

"No, no, no," Erik said softly, though with seeming nonchalance, "not yet! Oh, my poor Christine, you can't kill yourself like that! How much it must have hurt... Now you have to be bound, what a shame that is! The greatest shame! But the world will be punished soon for it, very soon, unless you want the other, which you will not, no one wants the other..."

I blinked, my eyes heavy and my head pounding. I felt him pick me up and set me on a chair, and I turned to him in numb confusion, realizing that he was holding down my wrists. As my mind started to gain coherence, I gave a weak cry of protest at finding myself bound to a chair, unable to move.

"Oh, shh, shh, you can die later, don't worry." He promised me, sobbing. "B-but you have to be patient, just a little longer... U-unless you decide now for the other... Well... Let me explain, let me ask, how many people come to operas here, my dear, do you know?"

I blinked stupidly.

"What does it matter the quantity!" He cried, pacing the room and seemingly forgetting the fact that I had nearly died. "The finest in Paris! The counts and viscounts, dukes, marquis, and their jewel encrusted wives! All of them will be above us tomorrow, applauding Meyerbeer," he laughed, as if this were a joke, "and you, my dear, get to choose for them! What a difficult choice, too, but one you should make quite swiftly, seeing as how you have already attempted to."

"No," I pleaded softly. "Erik, no-"

"You've already decided? But I haven't told you your choices!..." He fidgeted in his timid way. "Marry me or kill everyone. Or, if you prefer something more artistic, a grand label, like an opera: the wedding mass or the requiem!"

I started to cry weakly, moaning.

"You have until eleven o'clock tomorrow to decide... Oh, don't cry, don't cry, it'll be over by then. You should be happy! You can choose! And you only have to be patient if you want Erik to choose for you, for he cannot deny his little Christine, or you could choose yourself!... Death or Erik!" He cackled. "Death or living death! My little Christine, choose!"

Then he went out of the room for a moment, leaving me alone to try and think. My head was throbbing, but I started to gain coherence.

Choose, Christine...

How many people would be above us? A thousand? Hundreds? Oh, what did it matter the amount? I could kill them, however Erik planned to do so, and be free... free in hell... Or live in hell here and hope for heaven upon my death, whenever that would occur.

But I didn't think I could live with Erik for that long. I would go as mad as him!

But a thousand people... A thousand people...

Heaven help me.

He came back in, falling to his knees in a way that made me turn my head rather than look upon him.

"Is marriage to Erik so terrible?" He asked pitifully. "Would you rather die with me and everyone else? You could be quite happy with me if you tried, quite happy, with pretty things to wear and a lovely house to keep, a perfectly normal house... But that is too much for me to ask! Not for a man like Erik, if he is a man at all... Perhaps he is not at all... Why do you make him wait?! Why must you be patient now?! The wedding mass, or the requiem!"

I started to cry quietly into my shoulder.

"Why do you cry?" He asked. "You know it pains me to see you cry!"

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Dark!fic here we go...