Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters
Title: Infection
Summary: An evil has invaded Paris, and it seems that Christine has caught its attention. What lengths will Erik go to in order to save the world—to save the woman he loves?
Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews for the previous chapter. I really had a lot of fun writing it. I really wanted to give it the perfect vibe. That's probably why it took longer than usual. I didn't want to go into too many details in this chapter, but I thought it needed some Raoul time. Therefore, if this is too much, I would be happy to soften things a bit. Just let me know. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, though, especially the end. I love me some Raoul, but for whatever reason the ending of this chapter is my favorite part about it. Enjoy.
Chapter 7 – A New Life
Standing on the small balcony overlooking the dingy alleyway below, Christine reread the neatly folded letter held in one hand. It went as follows:
My dear Christine,
It pains me to leave you time and time again. I long for the chance to be with you more than a mere day or two. I miss your sweet slumbering face in the bed next to me. I wish I could always caress your soft skin and kiss those perfect lips. I will make this a reality one day. I promise you that.
I am writing ahead to inform you that tonight is for us. It has been an endless week, but the thought of seeing you when the sun finally sets carries me on. I shall be able to stay with you this time. And, I have important news, my love.
Watch for me,
Your Raoul
The sun was setting in the distance, smearing the sky with crimsons and violets. When Christine looked at it, she was reminded of blood and bruises, much like what she had suffered through earlier in the week. By now, though, most were nearly finished healing.
She had spent the rest of the week in solitude, only venturing out if requested to by Madame Giry. She had had no desire to see anyone after what had transpired with Erik. She had gone to him seeking a friend and had received an enemy in disguise.
He was supposed to have been different from all of the other men in her life. She had actually believed that he had no intention of using her, but she had been wrong. He didn't care for her. But, she figured she couldn't blame him entirely. She had raised her own hopes, after all. She had convinced herself that she could trust him and perhaps even care for him.
She had been stupid—a trait which she had thought she had thoroughly grown out of in all of her experiences. She had vowed to never be so foolish again. Yet, she had made similar promises before and that had hardly done her any good.
Christine turned back inside, the skirt on the emerald gown twirling charmingly about her ankles. She had taken extra care in her appearance for that evening. She wanted to make sure that Raoul would receive a very warm welcome. Her hair had been intricately braided and arranged off of her neck. She had pinched her cheeks to bring some life to her otherwise pale and sallow face.
She had cleaned her bed chambers, paying special attention to the details. She genuinely wanted Raoul to feel welcome and thought of. She wanted him to know that she was trying and that she could rise to the occasion. She wanted him to know that she truly and deeply cared.
Christine had made up her mind that evening she had stormed out of Erik's apartment that she wanted success with Raoul. She had decided that she would do everything in her power to ensure that he would want for nothing with her—that she would be the only one he would ever need.
She supposed she was in slight denial over his marriage still. It wasn't unheard of for gentlemen to take mistresses. In many cases, too, the mistress ended up living in luxury and being well taken care of. As long as she got Raoul, she decided that she could cope with his public life.
In any case, she didn't have many options before her. And, Raoul was an opportunity to leave this pathetic life behind and to actually have a chance.
It wasn't long after darkness took over the earth that she heard familiar footsteps ascending the staircase and nearing the door to her chambers. She had gathered extra candles to properly light the room for his arrival. She stood in their glow, awaiting him to enter.
There was a light rap on the door then it was pushed open.
Raoul could hardly contain himself when he saw Christine awash in candlelight. He immediately went to her and pulled her close. Her body no longer ached as it once had. She delightedly relaxed and allowed him to take control.
He kissed her deeply, dipping her slightly in his passion. When he came up for air, he greeted, "I missed you so much, my love. You look so beautiful."
Christine smiled. "I missed you, too," she whispered. "More than you could possibly know."
He hungrily nibbled at the curve in her neck, which caused her to erupt into a fit of giggles. She playfully struggled against him before breaking away and running out onto the balcony as a means of escape. Raoul followed, just like he was meant to. They came together again in the darkness, backed by the candlelight in the room, their lips locking.
"You wrote in your letter that you have important news," Christine urged when their embrace had ended. "Please don't keep me in anticipation any longer."
He kissed the soft part of her wrist and traveled slowly up her arm. "I've decided," he told her between pecks, "that I don't want you in this place any longer."
She gently yanked her arm free and took a step back. She didn't know where this command of his was coming from, or if he even had the right to decide such a thing for her. "It seems easy to make such a demand, Raoul, but I have nowhere else to go."
He grinned. "Yes, you do." He held her hands in his, cradling them adoringly. "I found the perfect little flat for you, Christine. It is just around the corner from me, so we will be able to see each other as often as we like."
Her head drooped. She stared down at the ground, almost ashamed. "I don't have the means of paying for such a luxury."
He chuckled, like an adult laughing at the attempts of a child. "Christine, I would be handling all of the costs. You won't have to worry about a thing. I want to take care of you. I want you out of this place and living properly. I know it is selfish, but I want you all for myself. Will you let me? Will you grant me that honor?"
She was elated. "Oh, Raoul!" she exclaimed, jumping into his arms.
Raoul carried her back inside and laid her out on the bed. In that moment, she was very grateful that the candles weren't as harsh as the natural sunlight. It would be harder for him to notice any of the bruising or scratches that remained. She didn't even want to think about his reaction should he learn of her indiscretions.
She had healed where it was necessary and was now ready for him. She held her breath when he pulled off the gown, saying a mental prayer that he wouldn't notice any imperfections on her body. It seemed to work. He studied her nude figure, as he typically did, with little shame and no disappointment.
He quickly removed the grey waistcoat that he had adorned that day, pulling the sleeves inside out when they got caught at his wrists. Then he unbuttoned the sapphire blue vest and tossed that aside with the jacket. He paused to supply Christine with some fresh kisses, at which point she helped him with the white shirt that had been tucked into the matching grey trousers.
She pulled it over his head, ruffling his golden locks. She giggled at the unkempt picture it had left. Raoul could never be described as unkempt. She began working at his trousers and underclothes. Her movements were hasty and not terribly effective. She made it seem that he couldn't undress fast enough for her appetite.
Still, it happened.
Christine liked to look at Raoul's bare form just as much as he enjoyed hers. As far as she was concerned, he was just about perfect—an Adonis in the flesh. Though his muscles weren't fully defined, they still existed. There was a patch of blonde hair on his chest that she enjoyed playing with after they had finished. And as far as that was concerned, she had never been disappointed.
It was when Raoul crawled on top of her that she first felt nervous. She tried to shake it off or to hide it. She couldn't have him learn that his wasn't the only business she had been receiving. The future would shatter before her eyes if he ever learned that. Besides, she figured she was just being foolish. After all, this was the first time since The Phantom had been in her bed that she was entertaining. It was only natural she should be a bit concerned.
Yet, the feeling only worsened as they continued.
She could feel the sharp nails digging into her back. She could smell the sweat and blood and saliva. She could hear that maniacal laughter when she had cried out in pain. She could still see those vicious, hungry eyes ever locked on her, never wavering.
Christine had to bite her lip to keep from crying out for Raoul to stop. She turned her head into the pillow to keep her tears at bay. What had once been a beautiful thing between them was now torture. She didn't want to disappoint Raoul, but the end couldn't come quick enough.
Afterward, she mindlessly played with that familiar spot on his chest, while she sought to find comfort in his embrace once again. Her mind was a tornado of thoughts. She was still trying to cope with the experience she had just had with Raoul. She was trying to understand how altered her life already was and would continue to be. Mostly, she was attempting to figure out whether or not she could still find happiness in the future with Raoul.
He didn't seem to be torn about their future at all. "Just think," he told her, caressing her bare arm, "tomorrow evening we will be laying beneath a crystal chandelier in a bed of expensive silks."
"Tomorrow?" Christine sought clarification. Though she was only partially paying attention, the immediate time frame certainly caught her ear.
"The necessary paperwork went through yesterday." He chuckled, delightedly. "I'll pick up the key in the morning and then it is yours. Do you think you can be ready by then?"
She offered as much of a smile as she could muster. "I think I can manage." She glanced around the room at the ramshackle furniture and the few items she actually possessed that occupied them. She wasn't lying when she had informed him it wouldn't take long. "After all, I don't have much to take with me."
"And anything else I can supply you with," he finished. "I'll get you brand new proper dresses. You'll have dozens of pearl necklaces and other beautiful jewelry. You'll want for nothing. I promise you that."
Raoul leaned in and kissed her passionately. She tried to find distraction in it. She tried to drown herself in his lips. But, the concerns on her mind were much too strong.
"I am afraid that I must finish preparing for tomorrow," Raoul explained. He sat up and began to gather his clothing.
"So you're leaving?" Christine asked, watching him.
"I want everything to be perfect for you, my dear."
She was touched by his consideration. "Raoul, it will be lovely. Just the fact that you are doing this for me is enough. It is beyond anything I ever dreamed of. It's like you are offering me a new life."
He closed the distance to her and gently brushed some stray hair out of her face. "I am, Christine. It will be a new, better life. It will be a life with me."
Christine embraced him gratefully. If there was one thing she was certain of it was how appreciative she was for Raoul. If she couldn't find a way to make it work with him, who was giving her everything she ever dreamed of, then she was doomed. She would find a way. She would do whatever he asked whenever he asked. She was his now.
"Be packed by the morning, my sweet," Raoul directed. He was fully dressed and had his hand on the door knob. "Life will be but a dream from here on out. I promise."
With that, he exited La Porte Rouge and took to the streets.
xXx
The shadows were his playground. They hid him from the stars peering down from up above. They made him invisible to any prying eyes. He had learned to use them to his advantage. And now, he slinked through them as gracefully as a tiger stalking its prey.
Truly, the unsuspecting victim walked casually just ahead, unaware of the vicious creature lurking just behind him. He had been waiting for the gentleman outside of the brothel, and had stalked him now up the alleyway. He found ecstasy in knowing that his prey was always unaware of the fate that awaited them. Their ignorance fueled his fire.
He knew he would have to pounce soon. He couldn't let the gentleman get too close to the main street. He never did. He took the precautions. He followed his routine always.
He sank back against one of the neighboring buildings, drowning in the shadows. The blonde man glanced behind him. He could feel the ever watchful eyes. He could sense that something didn't feel right, that he wasn't alone. And that was excruciatingly delicious.
He couldn't wait any longer. It was time for the climax.
The lasso shot out of the darkness and around the gentleman's neck, catching him off guard. It tightened and pulled him toward the grouping of shadows it had come from. The gentleman could do little else other than tug desperately at the rope cutting off his air supply. Perhaps if he hadn't been so distracted by the lasso, he would have seen the glint of the knife protruding out of the darkness and piercing his torso.
After that, he struggled much less. His life was flowing out of him in a crimson stream. His strength left him, and his consciousness was not far behind. His legs gave out from beneath him and he fell to the dirty pavement. He lay on his back, twitching, staring up at the night sky.
The final thoughts coursing through his mind were of Christine, the young, tragic woman he had met just a little too late in life. He had had such plans for her, with her. A future he would never get to live passed hopelessly before his gaze.
But, the last thing he managed to actually see was a distorted, deformed face and a pair of eyes oozing with malicious intent. The last thing he heard was a deep voice, more of a growl really. It wasn't comforting. It wasn't something that anyone would want to hear just before they died.
"She's mine," it told him matter-of-factly. Then it laughed in a most evil way.
