Deal With the Devil
She knew he was behind her before he ever made a sound, his presence palpable. She closed her eyes and drew in a breath to calm herself before she rose from the high back chair set before the fire, turning to face the spectre that loomed in the darkened parlour.
"You came…" For a moment she had worried her voice would die in her throat. She crossed her arms before her, the only protection she could afford herself. "Down once more..."
She could feel the heat of his scowl under his mask as he took her in, clothed as she was in her wedding dress from that fateful night, unbound curls spilling over her shoulders, a crown of white roses upon her brow.
"Tell me Christine, why have you summoned the Ghost?" She could hear that familiar dark, dangerous edge in his voice, that voice that even now threatened to overwhelm her. She steeled herself, not wanting to quake before him.
"Come now Erik, I would've thought you'd be overjoyed to see me?" She willed her voice to sound light and teasing. "Nevermind though, soon you will have more joy than you have ever known." With a not quite steady hand she reached out to stroke the unfeeling material of his mask. Quickly he grasped her wrist, not a trace of gentleness in his touch, causing her to hiss as though she'd been burnt.
"You try my patience woman!" He thundered, that terrible rage he possessed bubbling up to the surface.
"Fine! Let go of me and keep your damnable voice down." Gone now was that staged sweetness, her cultivated softness, she brought forth her steel and ice. "I wish to make a deal, with the devil, as it were. We need your protection and I will trade you all for it." Now she could hear the blood pounding away in her ears, she hugged herself tighter, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"We, we…" His voice came through clenched teeth. "You and the Vicomte!" The last was venomously spat at her.
For a moment her voice refused to come, the too new pain washing over her, threatening to demolish her clever plot. "Yes, but not the one you believe. Look around you! We are in a tomb. Raoul is dead, and if I do nothing my son will be too. They are powerful men, and I am a woman alone in this world."
For a moment she feared him. Well in truth she was always at least a bit afraid of him, but this was one of those moments when her fear of him was like a knife pressed to her throat, present and immediate. And then he laughed, threw back his head and howled at her, the sound seeming both blissful and hate filled.
"The boy's life for yours, what a perfect bargain. But alas, I feel that we have sung this melody before my dear, it is only the lyrics which have changed, and perhaps my fondness of my partner."
"Turn around and face your fate." Now, the time at last had come. Deep breath, eyes open, shoulder's back, time for the final aria. She forced herself to the heights of bravery.
"Only now you shall have your living bride. To prove myself I offer this, the wedding night before the vows. From this moment I will belong to you."
He reached his hands out to rest on her shoulders, causing a shiver to course through her, now a mix of dread and anticipation. "Dear Christine," His voice now all soft velvet meant to beguile."I think you've truly underestimated your Angel. You are playing a game you cannot win, betting on kindness and honor that loneliness and bitterness have eaten away. You are not prepared for what my acceptance would mean."
He pulled her close, her heart feeling as though it had stopped completely, his terrible gold eyes piercing her, filled with promises of malice and he pressed those thin cold lips to her's, she struggled to not pull herself from his embrace. Seeming satisfied he quickly scooped her into his arms.
"Come my Christine, for tonight you will be Erik's at last. And tomorrow our little family will be away from here."
"God give me courage to show you…"