A/N: It's been forever and a day since I've updated this fic and let me say to any of my readers who may have wondered what the heck happened, I'm so sorry. I suppose I just got sidetracked with the everyday routine of life and got a serious case of writer's block. Luckily I think my creative juices are back for good, and hope that's evident in this update. I'm also hoping that in updating now I'll gain some new readers, so please if you're new to my fic, I know it's still in the beginning, but bear with me: it'll be worth the wait!
Disclaimer: Don't own Leroux. Not a bit of his stuff. Wish I did, but hey, that's life.
How much longer and where the Angel continued to lead Christine, she didn't know. Somehow it seemed as though it didn't matter, for some reason the thought never occurred to her to even be the slightest bit concerned or afraid of him. The magnetic sensation of his hand over hers was hypnotizing her from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, and although by doing what he'd said her eyes remained shut, she felt as though the bond and connection that was between the two of them was enough to be her vision. It had guided her through all of the tears, prayers, and wishes of her life up to this point, so would undoubtedly be enough to help her follow him to wherever he wanted to lead her.
For several more minutes she followed the Angel; based on the texture of the ground beneath her Christine could feel the two of them first leave the forest, then come to a place where there were cobblestones, then finally enter a place were the floor beneath was smooth and flat. When she'd walked several paces in this place, her steps halted when she heard the Angel say, "There are stairs here, child. You must climb."
Stairs? Stairs to where, to what? Christine's mind was soaring with questions for him, but her heart told her nothing more than to simply trust the Angel and climb the stairs. After briefly pausing she cautiously lifted her foot to search for the first one, then when it came down upon it, lifted herself up onto the first stair, all the while holding onto the Angel's hand tightly. For what Christine counted to be somewhere around 30 stairs they climbed, until at last, her feet came down on the smooth, flat floor again.
Slowly, the Angel loosened his hold on her hand and lowered it, saying softly, "Welcome Christine."
Swallowing hard, she implored, "Angel, let me open my eyes now. Let me see you face to face…please."
"Very well then, open your eyes and see your heart's desire, child."
As soon as the words passed his lips, Christine's heart began to hammer wildly. For some reason, though her curiosity was maddening, she couldn't instantly bring herself to look at him. It seemed as though her entire life had been in wait of this moment, this one moment in which she would get to see the source of all her prayers and beliefs. It hardly seemed possible, much less fathomable, and yet here it was standing before her! All that remained for her to do was to merely open her eyes, and she would finally behold the Angel of Music.
Oh Father… She inwardly prayed. Thank you…thank you so much for sending the Angel to me…
"Don't be afraid, child. There is nothing to harm you here."
"I'm not afraid, Angel." She replied steadily.
"Then open your eyes."
After taking one last deep breath, Christine readied herself, then obeyed without another thought.
It was a man.
Though the room Christine was standing in was dimly lit, she could still make out in the shadows that standing before her was a flesh and blood man. Since his body was shrouded in what appeared to be a long, black cloak, his face was the only thing she could see. The man had dark hair that went down to the base of his neck, it's wisps shadowing parts of his cheeks and forehead. He was taller than her--not quite as towering as Raoul--but tall enough for her to have to look up to see him. He also had piercing, sharp eyes that though upon first glance in the dark appeared to be gold, now seemed to have many tints of color in their depths.
But perhaps, the most interesting part of the man was the mask he wore on the right side of his face.
Dumbfounded, Christine was at a complete loss for words for several moments while she took in this man's appearance, until finally she managed to stammer, "W-who are you? Where is the voice, where is the Angel?"
"It is I, Christine." The man replied. "I am the voice of the Angel of Music--I am he."
"But…but you can't be…" She murmured insistently. "Not when you're just a…just a---"
"A man? Yes, as you can see, I am a man who has taught you, guided you, and looked after you these past weeks better than any Angel could have---but am still a man just the same."
A man…just a man after all…just a man…
After all of her hoping, praying, and wishing it had all come to nothing but the realization that she really had been as foolish as Meg and all of the other gypsies thought she was in believing in the Angel of Music. He'd never existed, not for her at least, not for her father. He'd been wrong, and worst of all, hadn't even known it himself while he was alive. The promise he'd made to send the Angel to her had been in vain, worthless, and meaningless.
A lump began to form in Christine's throat and tears stung the back of her eyes at this thought. Though she longed to ask more of this mysterious man she now realized she never knew to begin with, the words just wouldn't come. In the midst of her crushing disappointment and shock, all that emerged from her lips were a torrent of sobs, first starting out as slow tears then escalating into full-fledged sobs. Covering her face with her hands, she sunk down to the floor in misery, her heart breaking with every tear that fell.
Almost instantly, she felt a hand rest upon her head, and the man's voice above her saying almost soothingly, "No. No please don't cry, my child. Forgive my deception, but you mustn't weep before me…I can't bear your tears."
Pulling away in fear, Christine whispered through her tears, "Don't touch me! I-I don't even know who you are."
"My name is Erik and you are in no danger here with me, that is all you need know."
After repeating the name herself, she shook her head and asked, "But why, why have you brought me here if you're not the Angel of Music? Who are you really, and what do you want from me?"
Erik looked down upon her for long time in silence, as if he were contemplating his reply. Being under the scrutiny of his piercing gaze made Christine uneasy until he finally answered, "What I want from you for now, Christine, is to be able to teach you the importance of music in your life. I want to imbed it's principles, it's essence into your very being so that's it's apart of you. When we met in the forest I couldn't do this because of the chance that such a thing would be intruded upon and ruined, but here…" Looking around the room, he continued, "Here I can teach you everything without any kind of hindrance."
Christine was now not only frightened, but also bewildered. This man called Erik seemed to be speaking in riddles she didn't understand. What difference could music possibly make to either of them now? "What is there to teach me now, why is there even a need for me to know anything more of music? It's brought me nothing---"
"Silence!" Erik suddenly spun around and hissed shortly, causing her to jump. Inhaling slowly, he began again "Forgive me, Christine, but I never again want to hear anything like that come out of your mouth again. You may not yet understand all that music is for you in your life, but I can promise you that you will. The word 'nothing' is not a word that appears in its' vocabulary. You will discover this and many other things in time as well."
Hearing the way Erik spoke to her was slowly causing Christine's fear to ebb away into anger. Back when she'd believed him to be the Angel of Music, she'd been willing to comply with all of his commands and wishes. But now that she'd discovered he'd been no more than a mere man, indignation and defiance from her hurt was beginning to surface at being treated so insensitively.
And then there was that mask.
For some reason, the more Christine looked at the mask Erik wore on his face, the more angry and annoyed she became. To her it seemed to symbolize a part of him that was still deceiving her, still holding back a vital truth of his existence---a truth she wanted and was now determined to know. Wiping away the drying tears from her cheeks, she looked up at him steadily and asked, "I don't want to discover anything yet---not until you take off your mask."
His visible eyebrow lifted in what appeared to be surprise that she would ask such a thing as he replied, "That is, unfortunately, the only thing you could ask of me that I cannot grant, Christine. Please be so kind as to never ask it again."
Why should I be so kind as to do anything for you? She angrily asked in her mind. Why when you've done nothing but hurt and make a fool of me?!
Apparently reading the expression on her face, Erik continued, "Now I understand that you may be upset, but I promise you that with time, that will pass as well. If you need time alone to collect yourself, I'll leave you for now and will return."
With that, he turned to leave, but not before she stopped him by calling out, "Wait! Please, tell me…where am I?"
A small smile slightly turned up the corners of Erik's lips as he replied, "In the very heart of music here in Paris: Notre Dame."
"The church?"
"It's bell tower, yes."
At the thought of being so close to home, Christine's hopes rose and immediately began formulating a plan in her mind on how and when to escape. Her instincts told her she should try to take action to get away from this man as soon as possible, but another part of her from deep within wouldn't be satisfied with leaving, not just yet anyway.
Not until she'd seen what was under his mask.
So trying to sound as natural as she could manage, Christine looked up at Erik and asked, "Well… before you go, would you please help me stand up?"
Nodding, "Certainly," he came back over to where she sat and extended his arm down for Christine to hold onto. Placing her right hand on the arm, she slowly and steadily stood to her feet. Without a second thought she reached out with her left hand and snatched off the black mask.
In the next instant she was screaming.
