Chapter Four: Erik
Lisa turned to the prone figure behind her. He was lying sprawled on the floor, unconscious, breathing heavily, with a gunshot wound in his shoulder and side. On the right side of his face, she could see clearly, now, was very red up to about an inch higher than his hairline. The skin was scarred and malformed and his lower right eyelid was stretched lower than normal.
She cast one glance at the body of the attacker, still with the noose around his neck. She hedged for a few minutes, considering. She finally convinced herself that the Phantom had strangled him in self defense.
With difficulty due to her skirts, Lisa knelt beside the Phantom's still body. The blood pooling out of his wounds were staining his white shirt.
This was going to be difficult. The bullets were still inside him and the wounds had to be closed. She wasn't sure if she could do both, but she had to try.
Lisa took a deep breath and focused all her energies into accomplishing the task she had to do. Placing her hands over his body, she activated her healing powers and tried, at the same time, to visualize the bullets leaving his body. Her hands began to glow and she could feel the energy start to lift the bullets out.
Unfortunately, the process caused shooting pain to travel throughout the Phantom's body and he awoke, crying out in agony. This made Lisa lose her concentration and she lost her balance, panting, falling onto her side but managing to catch herself before falling flat on her face.
The Phantom's eyes – they were blue and the right, she noticed, was slightly clouded – trained on her and he started. He tried to move away, but the pain from his wounds kept him from going too far. He saw her wings and stared. The emotions and projected thoughts coming from him were so disjointed that Lisa couldn't read them if she tried. His heart was pounding and his breathing was coming in quick, ragged breaths. He probably thought she was some kind of an angel. Everyone did. It was rather annoying, really. Then he noticed he was missing his wig and mask and one hand flew to the right side of his face to cover the disfigurement.
"Relax," she tried to sooth him, speaking gently, and also trying to regain her dignity after tumbling over as she did. "Listen, I can help you, but you have to relax."
"Who…what are you?" he managed to ask.
"My name is Lisa. I'm from…another world." She emphasized her point by flaring her wings a little. "I can heal you, but you have to put your hand down. I've already seen what you look like. I really don't care. It doesn't bother me, honestly. Let me help you."
He considered it for a long moment, and it was probably the pain he was in that ultimately made the decision for him. He slowly and very reluctantly lowered his hand from his face.
"Thank you," she said, smiling, trying to calm him down. "Please hold still. I have to concentrate, and this is going to be difficult. It's going to hurt, and I'm sorry."
The Phantom said nothing, and Lisa started the healing process again. He gasped and stifled his cries when the bullets started to leave his body once more, but surprisingly did his hardest not to move too much. Beads of sweat had broken out on Lisa's forehead by the time the bullets came out. She threw them across the room and they clattered to the ground, one splashing into the lake. That done, her last task was to close and heal the wounds, but her concentration was wavering. She wasn't sure she could pull off a complete heal.
Finally, the glow faded from her hands and she lost her balance again, this time catching herself before she fell completely. "All right," she said, breathless. "The brunt of the damage has been healed…but, I'm afraid you're going to have some scarring…I can't do anything about it…" She paused to catch her breath.
More disjointed thoughts flitted through the Phantom's mind. He was silent for a good minute before tentatively asking, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I will be." Noticing he was checking his shoulder and side, seeing nothing remaining of his previous injuries but a few scars, she anticipated his next question. "No, I can't heal your face. Something like that is too difficult and complicated for my powers."
"You can read minds." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes…well, sort of. I can read what people project, or if I really try. I'm too tired to really try, now, though." She tried to stand, but her arms wouldn't support her weight at the moment. It was this momentary weakness that annoyed her the most. Feeling helpless was one of the worst things she could think of. She sighed, then looked at the Phantom. He still seemed very uneasy, especially since he was still without his mask, and had to be wondering just what was going on.
"I overheard M. Lefevre talking to Mme. Giry," she explained. "I think the guy who shot you was a lackey of his, or something. Someone he hired," she elaborated when he gave her an odd look.
"You speak very strangely," he said.
Lisa chuckled. "I know. I'll explain if you'll tell me one thing. What's your name? Everyone seems to refer to you as the Phantom of the Opera."
She could almost see the gears turning in his head as he weighed his options. She had saved his life, after all, plus she wasn't fazed at all by his face. So, he answered, "Erik."
End chapter four.
