My heart pounded in my chest. I swallowed, and called back, "Yes?"

"Come here."

I set down my book, my hands trembling. Oh, had the floorboards always creaked like this on the way to his room? That chamber of death?

I nearly fainted upon seeing it again, then remembered my little act, and stood just outside the doorway timidly.

Erik had the little bag of life and death in his hands, and he held it out to me, accusatory. His expression was unreadable, his horrible features blank.

"Tell me, why did you touch this?" He demanded in a low voice.

I bit my lip, "I did not touch it. What do you mean? Why would you think-?"

"I take great care to keep it the same so I can know if you were indulging your insatiable curiosity." He informed me. "A key has been moved to a different side, and the bag is placed differently upon the hook, touching the wall when it is usually slightly pushed out. Now tell me, Christine, why did you touch it?"

My lip quavered. There was no fooling him.

"I was curious," I told him, hoping he would accept a childish explanation.

"That much is evident. Did you open the torture chamber?"

I shook my head, then realized he would be able to find that out too, somehow, and I nodded, averting my eyes. He stepped towards me, and I raised my arms in defense of myself.

"Why did you disobey me, Christine?" He demanded, sounding not so much angry as disappointed.

I was trembling, barely holding back my tears, "I'm sorry, Erik, I wanted to go home and I feared you would keep me here again."

"You hate me..."

"N-no, that's not what I said! Erik, I didn't say that at all. I merely miss the sun is all, and rehearsals, and maman. But I miss you when I am away as well-"

"You would run away!" He cried. "You said you would not, but you would! You thought I lied, hm? You thought that the torture chamber was a way out? Well we shall see! The only way out is death, Christine!"

"Erik!" I cried as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me to my room, the little bag of life and death in his other clenched fist. "Erik, you're scaring me!"

"Yes, Erik is very frightening," he told me. "But you must know why the torture chamber is not an escape. Oh, should you be trapped in there, Erik would die of pain!"

"My wrist," I pleaded. "Erik, my wrist hurts, please let go."

He released it, then, with a motion from his hand, the door to my room shut with a resounding bang. I ran over to it while Erik opened the torture chamber door, seeming to not even have a need for the keys after all. I desperately attempted to open the door of my room, but to no avail. Erik dragged me away from it and to the door of the torture chamber, which was now open, revealing the eccentric interior.

"Isn't it pretty?" He asked.

I nodded shakily, "Yes, very pretty."

"What would you call it?"

"A torture... chamber?"

"Yes, but what does it look like?"

"An African forest."

"How astute you are! That is precisely what I made it to be. And, you see, if I were to have someone in here, I need only shut the door and begin the torture-"

"No! No, Erik, don't-"

"Oh, Christine, dear, I would never lock you in here," he told me, patting my arm in reassurance. "But if I were to, the torture would consist of heat, mostly, making the victim delirious. Then, in that state, he would be deceived into believing he was in a veritable forest, not a room of mirrors. With no water, he would die of thirst within a few days, but I am impatient, you see, and it can take as little as an hour if I choose. Let me show you my instruments! They help with the torture. Come, come, Christine, close your eyes first, though! I can't have you knowing how to reach them."

"Erik, I will not close my eyes! You're scaring me."

He placed his cold hands over my eyes and I fought him, protesting. I felt him drag me through a doorway, and when he released me we were inside a dark room illuminated by what seemed to be electric light. He eagerly presented me with all manner of strange objects, showing me how they were 'played' to torment the victims. Each made a different sound, like that of a lion or little fly, but each sounded perfectly lifelike.

"And when they fear the lion- I always save that for last-" he told me, chuckling, "they reach for the noose!"

"I-is that all, Erik?" I asked tentatively.

"Oh, no, no, there are still more secrets. But you shall not find those! No, no, and there is no escape through the torture chamber. I can assure you, none!"

"I'm sorry for my curiosity." I tried, pitifully wringing my hands.

"Curiosity? Why should I be upset at your curiosity? You disobeyed Erik, and that is why you have now earned your extended stay here. But I love you, Christine, and so I will forgive you, and after this week, so long as you are a good girl, you may return home again."

"But Erik, my maman, she'll be missing me-"

"It is your own fault! And besides, you leave Erik alone all the time, and when do you worry about him missing you? No, you shall remain here, then return, unless you continue messing with Erik's secrets!"

"Erik-"

"You must be very excited at the moment, my little Christine, so now we will devote ourselves to music," he told me, pulling me along and opening the door to my room.

I was somewhat hysterical as he brought me into the drawing room. He placed me by the piano like a doll while I put my head in my hands, trying desperately to regain my breath and not let any tears fall. Somehow he seemed to not notice my state, or perhaps he was just ignoring it. Nothing upset him more than when I was crying.

"Here is your music," he told me, wrapping my hands about a sheet of music. "I will give you a moment to prepare."

Breathe in, breathe out...