The Soprano Hunt

Chapter Four

Christine's pale hands grasped the cool doorknob and she twisted and pulled desperately. But Erik had locked it. She looked around the small room, frantically searching for an escape or even a hiding place. However her search was fruitless.

"I'll come and get you when it is time," Erik had hissed when he threw her into her prison cell.

Christine had tried to plead with him and run out after Erik but he did not care. He slammed the door on her. The Opera Ghost was vengeful and nothing could stop his lust for blood. Christine was to bear the brunt of Erik's temper now and as his prisoner she had nowhere to run.

The terrified young woman looked around the room again, this time she saw the detail of the room in the candle light. The dressing table beside the wardrobe was covered with everything a diva could ever need and more. There were also programmes from every performance at the Opera House Christine had ever participated in.

It was clear Erik had put a lot of thought into creating the new room for Christine and even more so it was quite obvious he planned to keep her there.

She sat on the bed and clung onto the dark yellow blankets as she took deep heavy breaths. Christine couldn't believe Erik had set everything up for her just to lure her into his trap. Now what would happen to her? What was this punishment to be? Did Erik still lust for her?

How Christine longed for him to return and end her torment. Not knowing what Erik had planned ahead for her made her mind race, introducing so many awful thoughts into her head. But Erik did not return soon as Christine wished. Erik was biding his time, preparing her punishment only rooms away.

Later Christine would wish she was still locked away in the bedroom alone.

Silently Erik entered Christine's room wearing a new black mask. His eyes scanned the room for his prisoner and quickly sought her out. She lay curled up on the bed and it seemed she had fallen asleep there.

Erik glared at her from the door, finding it hard not to drink in how angelic his Christine was, especially when she slept.

With soundless steps Erik approached his sleeping captive and he stood by her side, still watching attentively as her chest rose and fell before him. Erik reached out, so desperate to run his cold hand through her long curls and feel how silk like they were in his fingers. But he refrained from touching her like that and had to push all those sort of thoughts from his mind, or else he would never be able to do what he was about to do.

Without a word Erik gently lifted Christine's sleeping body into his arms and carried her from her bedroom. She did not stir.

Erik watched her carefully with his icy eyes. She was so peaceful that he promised himself he would let her sleep before he punished her. He had taken almost everything else away from her anyway so the least he could do was allow her to dream.

Erik carried Christine's limp body into the living quarters of his makeshift house and he carefully lay her down onto the plush green sofa. He looked down on her, finally allowing himself to touch her face. He gently trailed his fingers down her cheek bone to her jaw then to her neck. He relished how soft her skin was and wished he could just lean down and kiss every inch of her.

Only then did Christine begin to wake. Then Erik stepped back into the shadows of the room and watched her with a grave face. He had thought about what he was about to do for some time now. It seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Christine's eyes flickered open and she glanced around her surroundings. Panic and confusion raged through her and forced her to jolt up. She didn't recognize the room but knew she was still deep within the Phantom's lair.

"Erik!" she cried out. "What is going on?"

There was no reply and Christine was completely unaware that she was being watched.

Christine fell silent and examined the room around her. There were full bookshelves all over one stone wall, a grand painting of a young woman with long curled hair that reminded Christine of herself hung on another wall and there was a single table before her where only two things sat. A newspaper and a music box Erik once bought for her.

Gingerly Christine reached out and took the newspaper from the table. She slowly unfolded it and gazed upon the black ink on the first page. A story caught her eye instantly. This story was about a death. It was about Raoul's death.

Christine's watery eyes frantically read over the entire story. Her heart seemed to stop, her breathing became shallow. Everything around her seemed to dull away. Even after she was finished reading her wet eyes did not leave the newspaper until it dropped out of her trembling hands.

Raoul was dead. He had been murdered.

Erik emerged from the shadows. His steps were so seamless and silent it almost seemed like he was gliding. He made his way to Christine's side and stood before her, towering above her. He sneered down at her, trying hard not to laugh at her poor attempt to avoid his blazing eyes.

"Whilst you slept peacefully in your carriage I stopped at an inn and paid a man to watch over you, to keep you there if required," Erik began in a low voice. He watched her reaction, following those little crystal tears as the moved down her soft pale skin. "Then I went back into the mansion and while the boy slept I slit him open from his gullet to his pelvis."

Christine threw herself down and let out a loud cry of horror. She began to sob hysterically but Erik just watched her cry and without sympathy he reached for the little music box he had once bought his Christine.

He placed it onto the table before her and called her name softly.

Christine's cries were relentless.

Erik snatched her up by her arms and forced Christine to sit up. He then grabbed her face roughly and forced her to look up at him. She tried to shy away, both disturbed and scared by the mad flash in Erik's icy eyes. But Erik was too strong to fight against.

"I brought you a little present, my love," he chuckled darkly. "It was yours to begin with but I wanted to reunite you with it. You may keep it down here if you wish."

Erik casually opened the music box and Christine watched in terror as Erik revealed to her the blood soaked velvet insides of the box, along with the large raw heart of her lover.

"Raoul!" Christine wept.

Erik allowed her to fall again.

"You have his heart Christine. You foolish child! Isn't this what you wanted from him?" Erik yelled. His loud commanding voice echoed throughout the house. "Now you have it! I give it to you as your wedding present!"

He snatched up the cold bloody heart into his pale hands and squeezed it, forcing it into Christine's face before she covered herself up again.

"Don't you want your gift?" Erik laughed hysterically.

Christine didn't look up but she shook her head vigorously.

"Come!" Erik cried. He placed the heart down on the table and grabbed her arms with his blood stains hands. "Hold his heart Christine!" he ordered. "Play with it in his hands like you played with mine!" Erik spat hatefully.

"Erik no!" Christine sobbed. She looked up at him, her eyes red with tears. But Erik had forgotten mercy.

"Hold it," he hissed.

She shook her head quickly and looked away from him. "What is it you want from me Erik? What else could you take from me now?" she demanded, her voice almost breaking several times. "You have my freedom and now you have destroyed my heart? What more is there to take Erik?"

Christine lay her head back down on the sofa once more and she began to sob. She couldn't stop herself. Each cry strained her throat and made it hard to breathe. She was sure if she didn't stop soon she would join Raoul in his grave…perhaps that was what she secretly wanted.

Erik smiled strangely and reached out to gently run his hand through Christine's long locks. "Ah Christine," he sighed happily. "I want to possess you completely. Make you mine in every way. Even if I have to make you submit to me for you to love me."

"You monster," Christine choked out.

She could feel her heart ache within her chest. It felt like it could stop any moment and she prayed it did.

Suddenly Erik scooped her up into his arms and he swiftly began to move from the room. Christine automatically began to kick and struggle but Erik only sneered at her futile attempts to escape him.

"Now that my love rival is gone I can take what is mine without objection. Would you object Christine? Would you dare deny me now you know what I am truly capable of? Will you finally obey me as a wife should?" Erik questioned her furiously.

"I am not your wife!" Christine screamed. "I hate you!"

Erik dropped her suddenly, letting her hit across the cold stone ground. Christine cried out in pain but did not attempt to get up again. She just lay there and wept for her dead lover.

Erik crouched down over her, shrouding her with his long cape, engulfing her in his darkness. "We made vows to each other!" he hissed into his beloved's ear. She tried to hit him away but he caught her wrist and squeezed hard. "We exchanged rings and wore the proper attire!"

Christine cried out in pain and Erik threw her hand back to her side.

"I have your wedding dress in your wardrobe my bride," he told her with a wide manic grin. "Now I want you to get up and put it on and then lie on your bed for me."

Christine whimpered in distress but Erik ignored her.

"Either you put it on in private or I will tear your clothes off and put it on for you!" he threatened her madly.

Christine stumbled to her feet and clumsily ran into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Erik stared after her, listening from outside as his wife cried and cursed him from inside her room. Yes, Erik knew what he was doing was brutal and cruel but at the same time he savoured the power he had once more and couldn't help but ache below for what was to come.

He would have his wedding night after all. Whether it was to be willingly consummated or not.