Chapter 2: A Glimmer of Light to My Gloom
A faint smile appeared on his face, as the woman took off her hood and her curls fell down past her shoulders.
Oh, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. The last time he saw her she had run away terrified, leaving a shrill scream echoing in the cavern. Her mortified face had burned into his brain. It pained him everytime he saw it. He remembered showing her his face, the most terrible thing he had ever done. HIS FACE! Tears escaped his eyes as he cried out and hid his face again in her cloak. Why should such a woman with such a face, have to ever look at such ugliness?
Then, oh what joy and sorrow came from her lips. "Erik," she whispered soothingly as she brought his eyes up to meet hers. Afraid, he hestitantly looked into her eyes and studied them. What is this! Not even a trace of fear in her eyes; only compassion. He closed his eyes replaying the way she said his name. "Erik," she repeated, "what happened to you?" A slight tremble indicataded in her voice.
He didn't want to answer. He couldn't answer. He didn't know. All he remembered was staggering out into the stormy night, weeping from the loss of hope for his life, Christine. The rain cried with him, feeling the utmost sympathy. The thunder cried out as Erik did. It hid his screams of pain and anguish as he screamed that name, that beautiful, wretched name.
The next thing he knew, he woke up and his ankles and wrists were banned with irons and he was chained in a cage. He was found by roaming, money hungry gypsies, one or two miles out of Paris. Investigating the soaked, unconscious man with a strange mask covering his face, they quickly packed him up and planned to use him as entertainment for their freak shows and devilish wonders to impress the people around Europe.
Now after two years of this, he was finally free; free and safe in the arms of Christine. Wait, what if this is a dream? I've dreamed of Christine for the past two years, how is this any different? "In all my sins, was I repaid with forgiveness? Tell me if I am dreaming," he whispered, looking at her beautiful features. He was afraid to close his eyes, only to open them again and it all go away.
Her small hand took his right one that was lying weak on the hay. Ever so gently she pressed his ice cold fingers to her warm, soft lips. She closed her eyes as a lone tear escaped from under her lid and glistened down her cheek. Erik, opening his eyes at the touch of her lips, saw it all.
Suddenly, this one sweet, bliss moment ended abruptly as a familiar voice came close. "Christine?"
"Gerard, he is here!" Christine turned as the elderly man rushed into the cage.
Erik was never more happy to see Gerard, "Gerard!" Erik cried and then abruptly stopped as sudden, violent coughs emerged from his chest, sending surges of pain in his closed, dry throat.
"Erik! What have they done to you!" He knelt down to Erik's level, shocked to see the state of his son's condition. His son still not knowing he had a father. Gerard brushed Erik's hair to somehow soothe away the coughing.
"Is the carriage ready?" Christine asked.
"Yes, and I took the liberty of putting the owner out of his miserable greed for a while. And I found this..." Gerard reached into his coat and pulled out Erik's mask. With as much strength as he could manage, Erik grabbed it eagerly and put it on, with the help of the soft, loving hand of Christine's. "Let's get out of here before any of the other workers catch us," with that Gerard took off his coat as Christine slowly sat Erik up. The older gentleman draped his heavy coat over Erik's bare, raw shoulders. Then Christine and Gerard picked the weak man up and silently took him out of the tent, the back way, to where a closed carriage awaited them.
Rocking his head back and forth as he slowly came too, Erik moaned from the pain that rushed through his body. He heard muffled voices off in the distance and approaching footsteps. His heart was pounding with fright as he heard a door open and close. The Phantom of the Opera, who had killed, scared and haunted an entire opera house, was afraid. He had every reason to be afraid. Where was he? Who was he with? Was Christine and Gerard really a reality? Or was he back in his prison?
Soft footsteps brushed what seemed to be the wood floors and stopped. He knew someone was looking at him, but he didn't have the courage to open his eyes.
"Erik," a soft whisper and a slight touch on his shoulder confirmed that it was Christine. He opened his eyes to see her lovely face staring down at him. He touched his face to make sure the mask was still there and it was. With a sigh of relief, he moved a bit to get comfortable, with what little comfort he could achieve, the pain that was still intense. Erik closed his eyes for they were still heavy from exhaustion. "Erik, the doctor says you are in serious condition. No food, no water, and your body..." She stopped, repulsed with the poor condition he had been kept in.
He blinked his eyes trying to block tears that were swelling up. Oh how he wished he was his strong self again so Christine wouldn't have to look at his thin, mangaled body. His grief suddenly vanished and he let out a slight gasp as two hands slowly glided up and down his chest and waist. He felt the same feeling he had when she vowed her true love and wrapped her arms around his chest, back under the Opera.
Her touch wasn't painful. He was protected by some kind of wrap that covered his whole, waist, chest, and back. "Christine," he breathed, as she continued gliding her hands up and down his chest, neck, his mask...
Erik shot his hands up and grabbed her wrists, wrenching them away from his face. He held them out in front of him. "Do not remove my mask!" his voice commanded but still quite hoarse.
"Erik, please, I have already seen your face."
"The last time I took off my mask for you, you ran from me. I do not want that to happen again, now that you are here." He lifted his hand to her cheek and cupped it. Covering his hand Christine buried her face in his, ready to cry at the painful thought of what she had done.
"Erik, I..." Her words were cut off as once again they were interrupted by Gerard who entered the room, a grim expression on his face. "Gerard what is wrong?" she asked.
"It's the doctor." Gerard heaved a sigh, "He knows that Erik is the Phantom of the Opera."
Erik's lips tightened. You told him!" He screamed in sheer outrage then collasped as the pain washed over his bruised body.
"No, no I didn't! You are, were the talk in every city. Everyone knew the Phantom wore a mask. He saw your mask and figured it out...and he saw your face."
"You showed him my face!" Erik growled fighting the pain, he tried madly to sit up and lunge for Gerard, but Christine firmly stopped him.
"No! He told us to leave while he bandaged your wounds. We didn't have a choice, Erik."
"Could we buy his silence?" Christine asked.
Gerard shook his head, "No, I already tried. He said he wants Erik out of his place before morning or he'll call the police."
"We need to get him out now, the sooner the better." Christine began to put on her cloak as Gerard nodded in agreement and began helping Erik out of bed.
The wounded Phantom moaned and tried not to cry out as he stood up with great difficulty, Gerard securely holding his arm.
"Christine, hold him while I put my coat on him." Christine rushed over and lifted Erik's arm around her shoulder. Slipping off his coat, Gerard gently, eased it up Erik's arms one at a time and over his back. Making their way to the door, they suddenly stopped with fear, as they heard muffled talking and shuffling of feet. Christine nodded for Gerard to hold tighter to Erik as she crept to the door. She slowly turned the knob and opened it just enough to see with her one eye.
The doctor was at his front door with a man in uniform. Five other men dressed in the same attire, rushed in with pistols. Closing the door quickly, she locked it and turned back to the two men.
"The doctor and the police are outside. What are we to do?"
"Barracade the door as much as you can, Christine, then..." he stopped and looked around the room. Yes, a window on the opposite side of the room was slightly open. "We'll make our escape through the window, and make our way back to Paris."
Christine began to push large objects in front of the door. The turn of the knob made Christine jump and revealed to them that they didn't have much time.
Taking over, Gerard dragged a desk over to the door. Christine took Erik to the window and propped him securly against the wall. "Gerard hurry!" Christine pleaded as the officers pounded on the door to open it. Shouting orders from the other side, the officers attempted to enter.
Gerard had finished and ran over to help Christine out the window and then Erik.
Intense pain shot through Erik's body as he bent over to squeeze through the small window, which he had trouble accomodating with his large frame. Christine grabbed hold of his arm tightly as Gerard made his way through the window. Then, when on the ground, he and Christine both led Erik around the house, to make there escape. Their plan to get to their carriage failed when they saw some officer's standing guard at the doctor's door and at their carriage.
"Come this way, we will have to take the alley. From there we can make our way out of Dover and to the docks." Gerard turned them around and they plunged into the dark silent alley, leaving the officer's still pounding on the door.
Safe, away from the law, they slowed their pace for Erik's sake. He was heaving and gasping for breath.
As they crept through the maze-like alley their eyes became adjusted to the dark; which made finding their way out a lot easier. Christine let out a squeal and squeezed tightly to Erik's arm as a rat scurried over her feet and disappeared into a dark corner. "Do not be frightened Christine. It is more frightened of you than you of him." Gerard encouraged, hoping his son would contribute a word. Erik, however did not say anything which led Gerard to fall deep into thought. He had never told Erik that he was his father, Christine knew and every day nagged him about it. What a woman can do to drive a man mad, he thought.