Sorry I haven't written in like a month… I've been busy… I have some free time, so here goes the next chapter…
*Note: Erik's POV will now be in bold type and the regular type will mean the story has changed to 3rd person POV. Sorry for the confusion!*
Again, don't own Phantom!
"Please tell me that you have seen Christine." The young Viscount de Chagny stood outside the manager's office at the Opera Populaire. He was out of breath and tousled from his frantic search for Christine.
"No, I'm afraid not, Monsieur le Viscount. No one has seen Mademoiselle Daae since last night after the gala," Andre replied. Not wanting to displease the generous patron, Monsieur Andre quickly added, "But perhaps you could ask Madame Giry or her daughter, Meg. They are awfully close to Christine… They may know of her whereabouts."
Without wasting a second, the Viscount shot off like a comet to the Corps de Ballet practice hall. As he entered the room, ballet rats were immediately on him, flirting and gushing over him. He paid no attention to this and walked across the room to the stern Ballet Mistress. He gave a slight bow to her before starting.
"Madame, may I inquire if you have seen Mademoiselle Daae?"
The Madame shook her head, "Non, I have not seen Christine. Why do you wish to know where she is?"
"I had asked her to supper last night after the gala. When I returned from fetching my carriage, the door to her dressing room was locked and I heard a strange voice coming from behind the door… I called her name over and over but she did not answer me. I became worried and I pried the door open with all my strength… She was not there. The room was empty, Madame."
Madame Giry, as hard as she tried to conceal it, still had a look of absolute shock over her worn features. She took in a deep breath and turned from the Viscount.
In a hushed voice, not wanting the ballet rats to overhear, she said to the Viscount, "I may know where Christine is. I shall go and see if my assumption is correct, but it will not be safe for you. Stay here and I will be back before noon."
The old woman signaled for her daughter to come near. "Meg, I will be gone for a couple of hours, maybe more. You will direct the other girls in practice while I'm gone."
"Maman, can't I come with you?" Ever since the previous night, Meg's curiosity about the Phantom and what her mother knew had grown to be unbearable for the young ballerina.
"Non, you must stay here." With that Madame Giry walked away leaving a very confused Raoul and a very disappointed Meg in her wake.
Oh my Christine is so perfect! It's no wonder why the Viscount was pursuing her. Any man would. And many men have. She's more beautiful than Helen of Troy, one glance from Christine Daae could knock any man off his feet. She has a heart of gold; she has enough kindness to make the most sorrowful person smile. And her voice! That voice that belongs to me! That I've worked so long to train and perfect. That sweet, pure voice that could make angels weep! Though my sweet Christine has denied every man that has attempted to woo her. She wished to stay faithful to her Angel. But why is she here now? Why has she not run off with her handsome Viscount now that she knows that I'm no angel, that I'm just a hideous, deformed beast? And why did she kiss me? I knew that the answer was pity. But she kissed me and did not look disgusted at all… In fact she smiled!
Angelic is the only word that can describe her. She had given me my first hug and kiss, which is more than I ever could have asked of her.
"Angel, are you alright?" Christine's words knocked me back to reality and I turned to face her. We were sitting on the divan in the living room.
"Yes, I'm quite fine."
"What were you thinking about?"
I watched the flames in the fireplace flicker and dance about. "Nothing."
"You know, you may be better at lying than I am, but you're not perfect at it." She gave me a grin and I realized the strange parallel to our conversation before in the music room.
"I was just thinking about you… And that kiss…"
Christine smiled sweetly at me and then blushed a little. Oh, how that slight color to her porcelain cheeks made her shine! She was too beautiful to dwell down here any longer… If I wanted her, I couldn't keep her down here- she would wilt like a rose deprived of sunlight.
"And I was also thinking that you need to return to the world above… For awhile of course, I wouldn't leave you alone." Alone for that ignorant fool to claim you, I added in my head. "It is not healthy for you to stay down here."
She looked up at me and placed her hand over mine. "Nor is healthy for you to be down here," she replied.
"Do not worry about me, my dear, in my lifetime I have survived through some… unfavorable conditions. I think I can take living down here. Even if it does cause me ill health, it's much better for me to stay down here where mankind cannot hurt and torment me."
Christine looked down at her dainty feet and sighed in sorrow. I needed to remember how sensitive she is and stop bringing up my depressing history. She turned her head upwards back toward me and said, "If I return to the Opera, will you promise to come outside with me someday and go for a walk in the Bois? The weather's been fairly nice and there are parts of the park where there are not many people."
She was asking me to go out in public with her?
"I…well…"
I was interrupted by a female voice calling, "Erik!" Christine and I both turned to face an older woman with erect posture, stern features, and holding a cane that remained unused... It was Madame Giry.
She called him Erik? How did Madame Giry know his name and how to get down to his home? Most of the journey down to the Phantom's world was a blur to me, like it was a dream from long ago, but I do remember that it certainly wasn't an easy trip. How could Madame have found the secret passageways? She did always seem to know more about 'OG' than the other workers at the Opera… She was always the one to present the managers with the notes from le Fantôme… She always scolded the ballerinas for their constant gossiping about the infamous 'ghost'… And as strict as she normally is, she always seemed to let me go to my lessons late at night in the chapel with my Angel of Music… Had she known that my Angel was really the Phantom?
She remained very cool and collected as she spoke to me, "Ah, Christine there you are. I assumed you would be here." She turned to Erik and a frown formed upon her face. "Erik, why on Earth do you have Christine down here with you?"
Erik returned her frown and stood to his full height, though the woman before him did not seem to be intimidated by him. "Madame, I believe that it is none of your business as to where Christine chooses to be."
Her expression softened and she took a few steps toward Erik. "Erik, surely she cannot be down here by her own volition. You must be realistic, Erik, and realize that you cannot force her to stay down here with you."
A dangerous, searing anger glowed in Erik's emerald eyes as he yelled, "CHRISTINE IS HERE BY HER OWN WILL, MADAME! I ASSURE YOU, SHE HAS EVERY RIGHT TO LEAVE IF SHE WISHES!"
I was expecting Madame Giry to cower in fear as I had the first time when Erik yelled at me. But she didn't. She stood her ground and approached him like he was no more than a harmless child. She placed her hand on his shoulder and in a low voice began to say, "Erik, please you must understa-"
"I am here by my own will, Madame." I actually had the courage to say. Erik and Madame Giry turned to face me as I walked toward them. "Erik was actually just telling me that he wished for me to return to the surface." I bravely put my hand on my maestro's arm to emphasize my point.
Madame sighed and said almost to herself, "I'm not sure what is going on, but Christine is returning with me to the opera house. She is being missed." Madame approached me and seized my arm gently.
As she pulled me towards the gondola floating on the crystal waters, I turned back to Erik, "Goodbye, I will see you tonight in the chapel for my lesson?"
"Of course, my love."
I gingerly waved goodbye to my Angel and sat down on the silky sheets inside the gondola. Madame Giry picked up the oars and began to set off towards the shore on the other end of the underground lake. After about five minutes of drifting through the waters, I could not hold back my curiosity much longer, "Madame, how do you know Erik?" She did not turn to face me, but spoke despondently, "You are a sensitive soul, my dear. I do not think you should know of how I became acquainted with Erik… The story is not a cheerful one…"
I considered this for a moment and then decided to seize the opportunity to learn more about Erik. "Please, tell me Madame."
She sighed, "Very well."
The glassy waters flickered a rainbow of color across the rock walls of the cavern. It was beautiful, yet a stark contrast to the solemn mood resting in the air.
The older of the two women in the boat took in a deep breath before reliving the past, "Years ago, when I was no more than twelve years old, several of my companions from the Corps de Ballet persuaded me to accompany them to a traveling fair in the city. It was an awful place- gypsies, frightening human oddities, fortune tellers, exotic beasts in cages; I could not share in my friends' enjoyment…
"There was a small monkey in Persian robes that could play the cymbals… the young ballerinas and I followed it to a large black and red striped tent. Hanging above the tent a sign in blood red paint announced the "Devil's Child". My cohorts were drawn in by this and beckoned me to follow them in. I was shocked to see an iron cage displayed in the middle of the tent. I was afraid and lingered by the door. Several of the ballet girls pulled me through the crowd that was flocked around the metal prison so as to get a better view at whatever creature was inside its bars…
"It was no creature at all. It was a young boy, probably no more than nine lying in a pile of filthy straw... The young boy was covered in dirt and had scars all over his malnourished body that looked like they were from many whippings. He was wearing nothing but a coarse pair of tattered pants and a sack over his head. In his hands, he held tight onto a stuffed monkey toy that much resembled the live one which pranced about the cage. He turned to me and through the two little holes torn in the sack, I could see such agony and despair in his eyes that was unlike anything I have ever witnessed…
"An enormous, gruff, bearded gypsy man walked out next to the cage carrying a whip. He bellowed, "Welcome Monsieurs and Madames, you are about to witness the most hideous beast to ever walk this face of the Earth- the Devil's Child, straight from the fires of Hell." He took out a large, iron key and unlocked the door to the cage. Several young children and women backed up in fear. The large Gypsy man approached the young boy in the cage and unceremoniously kicked the boy harshly in the side. Many of the people laughed at this, but I could not find any amusement in this abuse…
"The boy backed into the corner of his cage, quite visibly petrified in fear. The man yelled fiercely at him, "Get over here, you ugly little bastard and show your face to the crowd! Or do I have to come over there and lash every inch of skin off your disgusting little body?" The boy began to sob and curled up in a shivering ball. The man stomped over to the corner of the cage and screamed and whipped and kicked the boy till he was bloody…
"The boy went slack, resigned to his fate and the showman ripped the coarse sack off his head… Oh, Mon Dieu! The sheer horror of it! The crowd jeered and screamed in horrified delight. Some laughed or threw things at the boy… I shall never forget the look in the boy's eyes…they were so devoid of happiness and filled with shame… I was the only one who wept for the poor boy…
"The crowd began to disperse, but I couldn't seem to detach myself from the room. I wanted to help the boy. But how could I? Just as I turned and began to tread toward the exit, I heard a stifled cry of agony. I turned to see the boy straggling his master with a rope. The Gypsy man gasped and tried to pull the rope from his neck, but within several seconds, the man came crashing down to the floor like a rock—dead. My God, I had just witnessed a murder! And yet I still had the undying urge to help the murderer escape…
"I took hold of the large, iron key and unlocked the cage door. Someone must have heard the racket, because I perceived the sound of several men coming to investigate. Without a moment's thought, I grabbed the boy's hand and ran as fast as my feet would carry me down the streets of Paris to the only place I could think of to hide him… I believe you know where I mean…
"He has lived here in solitude ever since and adopted the persona of the Opera Ghost… I'm not sure if what I did all those years ago was the right thing to do. I don't think I'll ever know. He has committed unimaginable crimes and yet I cannot forget the tortured, pained soul behind those eyes…"
How can one hear only nightmares yet see only beauty in another's soul? Most of mankind believes what they hear about others and will thus despise that dubbed monstrous person. Christine Daae was different. She could see the endless beauty in a supposedly black soul and even more horrid exterior. Which is why a crystal tear slid down her porcelain cheek and rippled into the still waters.
Huzzah! Another chapter complete! More to come, sometime or another… I'll get around to it…