Thanks for all your support!
Read and Review!
It was dark when she awoke on the couch. The television provided soft white light. She checked the clock. 9:14 PM. The silly sitcom had become the somber evening news. Time to go to bed.
Where was Raoul? Asleep already? You could have woken me up. There were times when he was still too careful with her, acting as though she might break into pieces if he said the wrong thing.
With a stretch and groan, Christine got up and headed to their bedroom. The sheets and cover were still hastily made. Their suitcases sat untouched on the floor. She turned in a circle but didn't see any lights in the bathroom or closets. "Raoul!" she called, coming back into the living area. "Where are you?"
The heater turned on with a few clicks. She grabbed her phone off the coffee table and called him. It rang several times and then went to voice mail. Swallowing, she said, "Hey. It's me. This is so silly, but I don't know where you went. Call me. Please." Christine hung up, her hands dropping to her sides.
"Okay. Calm down. It's probably nothing." Panic rose in her throat as she thought back over her long nap. She'd hovered between sleep and consciousness, occasionally hearing the television. She vaguely recalled Raoul saying something to her. And then…she remembered a distant rumbling. Like thunder or an airplane.
But now that she thought about it, the sound had been more like a vibration in her mind. More like-
"Raoul! Raoul!"
She raced outside into the cold night, screaming his name at the top of her lungs. The car was still parked, confirming that something was very, very wrong. She ran around the entire apartment complex and down the street. Finally, she collapsed to her knees on the dry front lawn of someone's home. Her mind was quiet. And she was alone.
Pulling her phone from her pocket, she dialed the number Erik had given her. Again, it was no longer in service. And though she couldn't even leave a message, Christine yelled into the receiver, "I hate you! I hate you! What have you done with them? Give them back! I hate…I can't…I can't do this anymore." She softly wept. "I can't do this."
As she walked back to Raoul's apartment, she felt like vomiting. She had no one now. And she didn't want anyone. No one else was going to be hurt or killed because of her. What had she been thinking getting Raoul involved in this terrible plan? She'd taped a target right on him.
Christine didn't sleep that night. In the living area, she sat by her phone and waited for a message or a call until daylight broke through the grey clouds. Sometimes she cried in utter frustration. Other times, she sat there and stared at the wall.
That's what Erik wanted, she supposed. Her completely stuck and helpless—with nothing to do but wait for him to make all the decisions. She clenched her fists. Yes, that's exactly what he thought she would do. He had her friend and supposed fiancé. What else would she do but be pathetically helpless?
At 5 AM, Christine walked into the kitchen. Last night's soup bowls still sat on the counter, the brown broth staining their edges. Raoul hadn't taken his keys or wallet. He usually did that when he went out for a run, saying they weighed him down and that he didn't want them to fall out of his pocket. Was that what happened? He'd wanted exercise. And then…. No.
She grabbed both items for safekeeping, pushing away any thoughts that he might be dead. Grabbing her suitcase, she rolled it outside and lifted it into the trunk of the car. She locked Raoul's apartment after making sure all the appliances were turned off. Standing outside in the early morning hours, she raised her head high and exclaimed, "I'm leaving, Erik! I'm still going. Here I go. To Hawaii. Goodbye!"
She received no reply. But her head told her that Erik wasn't around anyway.
Then she started the ignition, backed out, and moved forward. The streets were mostly empty at this hour, so no one noticed when she turned right on red a little too quickly. Christine watched the sun continue to rise, making the town sparkle. Her hands were shaking on the wheel. But there was also an inner calmness, a need to do something—anything. To literally keep moving forward.
Would he try to stop her? She hoped so.
Dark green highway signs welcomed her to the airport, and she soon found a pay-by-the-day parking lot. A bright orange shuttle with a friendly driver quickly stopped for her and took her to the front curb. She tipped him well, grasping for good karma wherever she could find it. She checked in her single bag at the desk. Raoul had already bought their tickets. "My boyfriend is coming later," she explained, displaying her license. "He told me to go ahead and check in. I have his credit card if you need it. He'll be here soon." She managed to say it all without crying. They didn't question her. Bored TSA agents then ushered Christine through short lines. Because I'm utterly harmless. No one would ever get hurt because of me.
Her flight didn't leave until the afternoon. What would she do when it was time to board? If she stayed, she'd be powerless. If she went, it might make Erik even angrier. Faced with these realizations, she purchased an overpriced vanilla latte at a coffee shop and headed for her gate. She sat down next to a couple speaking in a foreign language. All around her were groups of people, smiling and laughing and getting ready for the time of their lives. "Mommy, I want dolphins!" said a little boy.
"We'll see them soon," his mother replied, smoothing out his sandy blond hair.
Watching the children with their stuffed animals and coloring books, she thought back to her youth. It'd usually seemed happy until she'd gotten sick. Had she ever noticed that her father was so sad? Yes, she supposed she'd always sensed it. She'd mistaken his melancholy for abandonment and unrequited love, as opposed to watching his wife deteriorate.
Maybe my mother was sane. Maybe it was the world that was crazy.
She bought a giant cinnamon roll and managed to eat half of it. Too sweet and sticky. Did anyone serve vegetables at an airport? Maybe that Chinese restaurant back there. Too far to walk now.
Mundane thoughts passed through her mind as though her brain still wanted to pretend that all was normal.
She was too tense to read a book or magazine. People watching was fun for a few hours. Getting no sleep the previous night had a mild effect. Sometimes her eyes would close for a few minutes, the sounds merging into a soft drone. Finally, her lids closed for a long time. She was awoken by-
"Now boarding rows one through twenty for Flight 219. Flight 219, rows one through twenty now boarding."
Christine sat up straight and glanced at her ticket. Row twenty-seven. She looked at all the people standing and stretching one last time. Elderly retirees on vacation dressed in colorful shirts and khakis. Young couples on their honeymoon. Families with smiling and crying and sleeping children.
Was she putting all of these people in danger by being on this flight?
She gripped her ticket, wrinkling it. And it was then that her phone rang. She stared at the blocked number as her stomach turned. Watch it be a stupid telemarketer.
She answered with a soft, unassuming, "Hello?"
The voice that replied brought simultaneous terror and relief. She'd accomplished exactly what she'd wanted. An ill half-smile formed on her face.
"Won't it be somewhat difficult to get married without a groom?" His voice was low and angry.
She took a deep breath. She'd had time to think over this conversation. And was calmly able to reply, "I thought I could use some time by myself. For some reason, these last few months have been really stressful."
"Rows one through forty now boarding. One through forty." The agent spoke over the intercom.
"If you step onto that plane, I will kill him," said Erik.
"So he's still alive?" she asked, not letting her relief betray her voice.
"For now."
She did want to bargain. But she didn't want to lose everything. Each word had to be carefully chosen. "I won't get on the plane if you let me see my friends."
"If you do as I say, the boy will be released in good time. But I will not allow you to marry him. Are you stupid? He could never make you happy! He knows nothing of music. Of anything really! Why would you agree to marry that idiot?"
She looked out the enormous window at the departing and arriving planes. The roars of their engines were audible and growing louder by the minute. "Maybe you're right, Erik. Maybe it was a bad decision. If you free my friends, we can talk about this. We need to talk very badly, don't we?" And that wasn't a lie. Now that she had faith in her sanity, there were many things she still wanted to know.
"If you do not board that plane, I will release Chagny. But you will never marry him. Do you understand, Christine? You cannot marry him. I will not allow it!"
She noticed something missing in this conversation. "What about Meg?"
Her question was followed by a disturbing long pause. "I require her for now."
"What? What did she do? How is any of this her fault? If I come back to you, there's no reason for you to keep her as some sort of—of hostage!"
"No." His voice softened and was sincere. "You misunderstand, my dear. It is not punishment. It is not to upset you that I have her. It is a necessity."
"Erik, you can't hurt her!" The other passengers glanced at Christine as they walked to the boarding line.
"She will survive. She will be fine." The tone of his voice wasn't reassuring. "I simply cannot give her back yet."
"Then I'm getting on the plane." She stood and picked up her purse, gripping onto the black strap for dear life.
"I will kill him if you do."
"Stop threatening me. And just tell me what you're doing with Meg."
"Please," he said. "You do not understand. I need her to have you. That is why I cannot give her back yet. I need her to have you! Simply stay, and you will see this."
"What do you mean by that?" Silence. "Erik." She gritted her teeth. "Where. Is. My. Friend?" She took several steps toward the line.
It sounded like he sighed in resignation. "I will show you. I will show you why all is different."
"When?"
"Now. Right now, Christine."
"You're going to make me miss my plane." She looked up nervously as the last rows were called.
"You will not."
Just then, a man in a black and silver uniform ran up to the redheaded lady at the airline desk. He said something to her. Christine could read her lips when she replied. "What? You're kidding? Crap." The woman rolled her eyes, shook her head, and went to the speaker. "Ladies and gentlemen, we sincerely apologize, but there has been a sudden and unexpected technical issue. The departure is going to be delayed a while longer while we have a mechanic look into it. Thank you for your patience." The remaining people groaned. Some hesitated, probably wondering if they could avoid boarding the plane until it actually left.
"See? Now you will not miss it," said Erik. She shuddered. And Christine then realized that the sounds of the plane engines were something else altogether. No, she couldn't hear the airplanes outside. She could hear Erik—coming closer and closer.
Her heart pounded rapidly as the volume increased. "Where are you?" she whispered, looking around at the crowded terminal.
"Approaching security. Like a normal man. Like anyone else, you see?"
Christine quickly walked in that direction as the humming became a roar. Shoulders and arms brushed against her as a hundred different faces passed by. Where was he?
What she finally saw on the other side of the security barriers took her breath away. The Shadow itself was approaching! Its silhouette was less chaotic and had taken the shape of a human being. It had hands and arms and legs and a face. Yellow-orange glowing eyes. Sharp teeth. Christine put a hand over her mouth and choked, taking a step backwards. She grabbed a rectangular pillar to keep from fainting in terror. It was a monster out of fairy tales.
As the creature walked forward, Christine thought she saw a human being lost within the black shape. But the shadow was devouring it. Tears formed in her eyes. There was almost nothing of Erik left. Except his voice.
"Do you see me?" he asked through the phone.
"Yes," she sickly murmured. "Yes, I see you. Oh my God. What—What have you-?"
But then she noticed something very, very important.
No one else was staring at the Shadow Creature in horror. No one else looked twice. They ran and walked past it, hurrying to their flights. A couple embraced in front of it. A little boy even ran around its legs, giggling as his older sister chased after him. They were all oblivious.
"Why?" she whispered to herself, still gripping onto the cool plaster. "Why is it only me? Am I crazy, or am I right?"
"You can see me?" he asked, hopefully. "You recognize Erik, yes?"
Without answering, Christine pulled out her phone. Taking deep breaths, she found the camera setting. As the Shadow approached, she put her phone up and zoomed in on it. She took its picture and then looked down at the screen, quickly pulling up the new photo.
A strange feeling settled over her as she finally saw what everyone else saw. Just a tall, middle-aged, dark-haired man in a black suit. No horror. Yet when she looked up, the Shadow was still there, watching her.
"Do you take my picture because I am no longer hideous?" he softly asked. "Because Erik is a normal man, now?"
"Erik—" He thought she saw him as everyone else did. For now, it was safer if Erik believed that. If he thought she was terrified or crazy, the situation would spiral hopelessly downward. As it had last time. She needed him to trust her.
Christine began to approach the Shadow again. Erik. She had to think of it as Erik. Maybe he was still in there somewhere. Fear gripped her as she finally walked to the other side of security and faced the vibrating black shape. "Erik," she whispered. "What have you done?" She left the question ambiguous. Any type of explanation would have been appreciated.
"For you," he said, crouching slightly. "Erik did it for you." If she concentrated, she could still see glimpses of the human being inside the darkness.
"What did you do for me?" she asked.
He chuckled. "Isn't that rather obvious? I made myself better. I am no longer hideous."
"How?"
"A complex plastic surgery."
Liar. They started to walk forward.
"I still have luggage on the—"
"You will not now. They will send it to you. Let us leave this crowded hellhole. I am not so accustomed to this many people. It is odd. But I had to show you. So you would stay, Christine. So you would stay with Erik."
She shakily nodded and fell into step beside him. The entire experience was bizarre, and Christine felt like she was the only one waltzing through a different dimension. And yet, oddly, she also knew that she wasn't crazy. This was not a sickness. This was a terrible and strange gift.
They walked to a shiny black car that was pulled up the curb where the shuttles turned. She stared at where he had parked and said, "You're lucky you didn't get a ticket."
He laughed with delight at this. "A ticket? Yes, I suppose I am." She climbed inside the cool leather interior. And the Shadow Creature sat down in the driver's seat and started the engine. She tried not to stare at it—a black ghost driving a vehicle. Erik's voice was still his. His affection for her was still there. She focused on that instead. "You see," he began. "Now that I am no longer disgusting, the boy can give you nothing more. I can give you a handsome face. And music. I can give you the daytime. Sunlight. Picnics. Wherever you want. A house. I can give you whatever you want, Christine!"
"Yes, Erik. You can. It's going to be okay." She looked out the window at the passing grey and brown concrete buildings. Planes took off above them. She was going to miss her flight. That was probably for the best. "Where are we going?"
A hesitation. "I am going to take you to a very nice hotel. You will stay there for a few days, and I will visit often. And then, after that, I will come to you. We can forget all the horror of these months. We can start anew."
"Where will you be while I'm at the hotel?"
"I must finish something. An important project. I cannot have you yet. Not completely."
Away from the crowds and noises of the airport, she was barely able to hear another voice whisper, "Yes, she will simply get in the way. She will not understand. Keep her away!"
Erik didn't respond to the other voice. For now, neither did she.
She told herself to keep calm. To pretend everything was normal.
"Where are my friends?" she softly asked.
"As I said, I will release him soon enough."
"Erik." She reached out, not knowing how this would feel. Clenching her jaw, she placed her hand on the arm of the Shadow. Soft, cold cotton met her hand, along with what felt like a human arm. Only her vision and hearing were different. Erik felt real at least. The face of the creature was too blurred for her to see his reaction. "I understand that you're holding Raoul because you think we're going to get married. The truth is…the truth is that I made up the engagement to draw you out. But—"
"You are lying," he harshly interrupted her. "You were going to marry him! Because he is handsome! But-"
"No. No, Erik. I wasn't going to marry him. But it doesn't matter. I still understand why you have Raoul. And I believe you when you say that you're not going to hurt him. Because you know how sad that would make me." She took a deep breath. "But I still don't understand why you have Meg. You're being very vague about why you have her. And I'd like to see her right now."
"I cannot." Hands gripped the wheel. "Do not ask me. You can see her later."
"Why?"
"I cannot."
"If you just show me that she's okay—let me see her. And let Raoul go. Then you and I will go somewhere and talk about all this. We'll go to Hawaii. I'm all packed. We'll go together." Her voice shook. Not because she was lying—but because she was telling the truth. She was ready to find answers.
"I cannot!" he yelled. "Do not ask that of me. I must finish what I began. And then we will go and do as you say. Because then it will be fine. Then I will be whole. I will look like a man for you. Christine—" Both a shadow and a hand reached out to touch her face. "I did this for you."
She turned away and started to weep.
"Why? Why are you crying? Look what Erik did for you!"
"Because I think you're hurting my best friend. I've known Meg a long time. She helped me through high school when I was kind of a mess. She was there for me when my father died. She knows me even better than Raoul. And I…I think you're hurting her!"
"But look at my face," he said. Suddenly, he pulled to the side of the road with a jerk of the steering wheel. He roughly stopped the car, throwing her forward. Startled, Christine leaned back as the Shadow hovered over her, begging with Erik's voice. "Look at Erik. Please. Please. Please. Look at Erik now!" Again and again, the hands gestured to the face. "Look at what Erik has done for you!"
Why did Erik start talking about his face whenever Meg was mentioned? What did one have to do with the other? That was the key to all this.
"Look at Erik! Please look at Erik!"
She could hear human pain in that voice. Even as the Shadow practically devoured him, she could feel Erik's hurt. "I see you, Erik," she said, taking a deep breath and finding his cold hand. She remembered the photo. "You look very handsome. You do. I see what you did for me."
"Now you will stay?" he asked. "Now you will stay with me?"
"I'll stay with you if you just show me Meg. Let me see her. Please."
"Do not!" the other evil voice snapped.
She subtly glared at it and continued to fight. "Please let me see my best friend. I have to know she's okay."
The glowing eyes stared forward. The shoulders moved up and down with deep breaths. "Will you have dinner with me first?" he softly asked. "I want to do that with you. To show you how normal our lives can be. Will you?"
She was about to protest but then tiredly nodded. "All right. Yes. Let's eat together. And then Meg."
"Yes. Yes, we will do that."
He started the car and turned back onto the road. They drove to an older district in the city. It had novelty shops, fancier restaurants, bakeries, and a few high-end fashion stores. She let him lead her inside the dark interior of a seafood restaurant. Her jeans and blue sweater seemed out of place among suits and evening gowns, but no one threw her out. Lobsters sat in a giant tank, and flowers had been placed on every white tablecloth. Crystal light fixtures sparkled on the ceilings. They ordered champagne. She let Erik order everything. She let him play this game.
"I have greatly missed you." Eyes stared at her from across the table, partly yellow and partly orange—a mix of the two beings in one body. "I have thought of you every day."
She looked down at her freshly baked slice of wheat bread. "I've missed…what we had last year," she replied. "The music."
"No. You couldn't miss that. I was so hideous, Christine. I hated you even having to see me."
"You were ill," she gently corrected. "I still looked forward to my time with you. I loved the lessons. I loved talking to you at the library."
"But you would not have wanted me. The night of your recital. I saw you with that boy. You were with him afterwards. You kissed him. You did not want me. And all you have done since then is try to escape."
She remembered that night, feeling Erik's anger and not understanding why he was so upset. "Raoul and I had been dating for quite a while." She paused. "I didn't know seeing us would hurt you so much." Would make you kill three people. "It wasn't intentional. You can't blame me for not understanding that."
His shoulders slumped. "No. No, that was not your fault. You would not have known, I suppose. But I—I needed to fix it. I had to fix it. So you would not keep running from me."
"What do you mean by fix it?"
"Nothing. Enjoy your dinner. We will have many more dinners. I want you to enjoy this one."
To please him, she ate some of her steak, lobster, and Portobello mushrooms. She drank her sparkling wine. Whenever she needed a reminder about how Erik looked to the rest of the world, she discreetly looked at that picture. And maybe she would have been able to play a little longer if the thing hadn't spoken up again.
"It is time to return to Megan. This is needless delay. Lock Christine away. And return to Megan. Or I will melt your face into nothing. Do you understand me, Erik? Into nothing!"
Her friend was in very real danger. Christine's heart sank into her stomach.
"Listen to me," she said, setting her fork down with a loud clink. "If you hurt Meg, I won't be able to forgive you. Even if you're the most handsome man in the entire world. I don't care! I won't forgive you for hurting my friend. But if you don't hurt her, I'll give you what you want."
"I want you to love me!" he snapped.
"Well, I will never love you if you hurt my friends."
And the thing said, "Do not listen to her! She knows nothing! She is useless!"
"Stop!" Erik roared. And she knew he wasn't only speaking to her. For a moment, Christine could clearly see human hands fold around human temples as Erik struggled with whatever this was. Something ghastly and cruel.
Standing, she ignored the horror of what hovered around him. She walked to where he sat. She leaned through the cloak of shadows and kissed a soft human cheek. A cold wind slammed her face, but she ignored it. Erik's glass tipped over all by itself, and she ignored that, too. She heard him softly gasp as her lips touched his flesh. "Please, Erik," she whispered.
"Oh, Christine." He was shaking. She felt him nod. And she felt the other thing get very angry. The wine glass rolled off the table and shattered despite the carpet. A waiter rushed over to clean up the mess.
"I will take you to Megan," Erik murmured. "And you will…you will see that she is perhaps fine. She is unharmed. You will see this. And then you will be happy. I will keep my face, and you will stay. You even kiss me with this face, see? You did, Christine. You kissed me. So I will show you your friend, and all will be fine."
Relief washed over her. She kissed his cheek again, more able to see the human being in the shadows. And now that she knew she was sane…now that she knew Erik and the Shadow couldn't be the same entity…now that it all began to make sense…Christine started to feel for him. "Thank you," she said. "That means the world to me."
He had a dying need to keep her happy. It overpowered everything, this desire. The need even overpowered the thing at times.
He made her finish several bites of moist chocolate cake. Christine must enjoy her dessert before they left. She must be happy with him.
The thing raged at him. "You are ruining everything! Keep her out of this!"
He silently told it that the ritual would still happen. Christine would see that nothing was wrong with her friend. She would be pacified when she was certain that Megan was physically unharmed. Then he would take Christine to a beautiful hotel suite. And he would return to the cabin so that the ceremony could go forward. And all would proceed as planned.
The thing didn't trust him. He felt a twitching in his face, a clear threat to destroy him.
"Let us go now," he said, touching his nose to make sure it was there. "Let us go, my love."
She eagerly nodded. He disliked how she still looked at him. From the moment Christine had seen him again at the airport, there'd been clear fear in her eyes. Her gaze darted back and forth. She was easily startled. Perhaps she could not get his previous hideous self out of her mind. It would take time. Yes, simply time for her to love him.
Her kisses lingered on his cheek. How could he deny her requests when she kissed him? She was such a good, sweet girl. His life would be heaven with her in it…the past erased…the thing finally satisfied. His heart ached with love for her. Even after her betrayal, he couldn't help but love her.
It continued to threaten his face throughout the entire drive. His flesh twitched and tingled. He put a hand over his mouth and nose in case anything happened to them. He would not be hideous to her again.
"What's wrong?" she asked, perhaps noticing his movements.
"Nothing!" he snapped. She flinched and looked out the window.
He felt terrible.
The thing raged at him. "I will extinguish you if you ruin this, Erik!"
He shivered, fully believing it.
Christine turned to him at that moment, touched his hand, and said, "Thank you for doing this. It makes me really happy."
He moaned in soft horror. They were nearing the woods, the road a short distance from the cabin. He wondered if he should have blindfolded her during the journey. It was too late now.
It was too late. Like in an old cartoon with the angel and the devil perched on the human's shoulders—the thing would say something to him. And then Christine would speak. Their voices fought within his head.
"Thank you, Erik."
"You are a fool!"
"I know we'll be okay tonight. I know we'll figure this out together."
"She'll destroy everything! And then I will destroy you!"
Both voices tortured him—one with evil and one with love. Because there was no path that was right. He sunk down into the seat as the tall trees hovered over them. Occasionally, the thing would cause the car to swerve, but he clung to the wheel. He stopped atop a patch of soft pine needles. She blinked and looked at their surroundings, her face losing some of its pretty color.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"Outside of the city," he replied. "I required solitude for my project."
Grey birds squawked and tweeted above them. Occasionally, she stepped on a fallen branch. Otherwise it was silent. First, he warily led her to Chagny to reassure her of his wellbeing. The boy was sedated in a small shed outside the cabin. The thing had urged him to kill Chagny the previous night, to literally strangle the life out of the idiot. But his deteriorating mind had known that Christine would not love Erik if the boy died. So the boy simply went away for a bit. She would not marry him.
He opened the squeaking metal door. The interior smelled of damp wood and vegetation. The boy was sprawled out on a dirty white mattress beside a green watering can and old tool chest. A few spiders in corner cobwebs were Chagny's only company.
She released a soft gasp and ran over to him. He glared as Christine touched Chagny's perfect cheek. "He's just asleep," she whispered.
"Yes." His jaw clenched, and he desperately wished that the boy would disappear off the face of the earth.
"His neck is bruised." Christine momentarily stared at Chagny's rising and falling chest. "You'll let him go soon?"
"Assuming you do not attempt to wed the idiot, yes, he will be released eventually."
She nodded and rubbed her arm. She took a deep breath. Slowly, she stood and said, "Please show me Meg now."
Her reaction to Chagny gave him hope. She understood. She did not cry or beg or try to run away. Christine would not hate him now because she understood. Just a little more time, and all would be perfect. They would have a house and take Sunday walks and dine together. Husband and wife.
He slowly stepped into the cabin first. Megan was sitting in her crimson armchair. A few lingering rays of light touched her cheek. She was pale, quiet, and staring blankly at the wall. But, otherwise, there was nothing wrong with her. She was physically fine. Christine would see this.
"See?" he said, ushering his beloved into the cabin. "There is your friend. Megan is well. She will be fine. Do you see?"
Christine stepped into the dim room. She blinked twice. Then she looked at Megan for several eerie seconds. Her eyes grew wider and wider.
Christine screamed.
He flinched at the horrible sound. The thing roared in anger.
"What did you do to her?!" Christine shouted, choking on her voice and tears. "Oh, God! What did you do?" She was crying and gasping. "Look at her. She's covered in it! What did you do?" Christine ran to her friend and began to pull on Megan's right arm, trying to force her up. "You have to go! You have to run! Meg, get up! You have to go!"
"Look what you've done!" the thing raged. "Look at the mess you've made, Erik!"
He clutched his head as it all began to unwind. But why, Christine? Why didn't she understand?
Megan slightly turned her head. "Christine?" she whispered.
"Yes, it's me," Christine said, continuing to sob. "We have to get you out of here!"
"But we can't go yet," Megan replied, drawing back. "The Master isn't finished."
"No, Megan." He quickly intervened. "It is just…Christine came to make sure you are well. Tell her you are well. Megan, tell her you are well. Tell her that you are fine."
"I'm well," Megan murmured. She smiled widely. "I'm going to be a beautiful dancer!"
"No, you're not!" Christine shouted. She turned back to him, her face twisted in anger. "Erik, let her go! What have you done? What is it? What are you?"
"She is fine!" he roared. "Look at her! She is fine!"
The thing raged at him to get Christine out of there. He was nearly ready to comply with it.
"Let her go!" Christine shouted, her fists clenched. "What have you done to her?"
"Nothing! She is fine!"
"No, she's not! She's like you now!"
"I need her! To be a man. Erik needs her to be a man." His head spun. The world started to fade.
"What?" Christine whispered. "What do you mean you need her? What are you talking about?"
"I need her to look like this. To look like a man for you. I need Megan."
"Erik—"
"Get her out of here! Now!" the thing screeched.
"I need her!" he roared at both of them, losing his mind. "I need her! I need her! I need her to be a man!"
"You're not a man!" Christine suddenly hollered, approaching him. "You're covered in it—in that Shadow thing! You are the Shadow thing now! You looked like more of man when I first met you. You looked more human then! And you didn't hurt people! You were my friend! And Meg is the same way! She's covered in it! What did you do to her? What did you do to yourself?!"
"Get her out of here!"
"I'm not getting out of here!" Christine screamed back at it. "Not until you give my friend back!"
She screamed back at…it.
She screamed at it.
The fact hit him slowly and painfully. And then her words hit him, equally horrible. He shakily started to sink to his knees. Something within him collapsed. "You—you can hear it?" he whispered in a choked voice. "You can see it?"
Her face was red and tear-streaked. She hugged her arms to her chest. With a shudder, she whispered, "Yes. Yes, I think I can."
"For how long? How long have you seen it?"
She slowly approached him. "I could sense it from the beginning, I think. And then it got worse when you came back at the holidays. And now it's everywhere. Eating you. And it's on Meg." She shook her head and half-laughed, half-sobbed. "I thought I was crazy for so long. Everyone thought I was sick. But I'm not, am I? It's real, isn't it? What is it?"
"And I look like it?" He could not escape that one point. He could not grasp any other thought except—"I look like the monster to you?"
"Yes, you look—or it looks like a shadow with eyes and sharp teeth. It's like you're the same thing now. But it wasn't always that way. I don't understand—"
He leaned away from her as pure devastation overcame him. He covered his face and turned away. "So I will always look like a monster to you? There is no escaping it."
"No. You don't understand. If you would just tell me what it is, we could-" He heard her continue to speak to him…to offer words of reassurance…but he didn't want to listen. She reached out, but he continued to draw back into himself. He wanted to get away from her.
"I will always be a monster to you. You can see it. You can actually see it. The monster. Erik the monster."
The thing quieted as it realized just how victorious it would soon be.
He didn't want to exist any longer. He didn't want to feel this agony. A knowledge that nothing he did would work, would be good enough. She would never love him. Christine would never want him.
"Erik!" he heard her distantly shout. "What are you doing? You're almost completely gone! Erik, come back!"
To escape the pain, he let the thing have him. He let it win. He didn't want to be alive. He didn't want to be hideous, monstrous Erik.
"Erik!" Christine screamed. "Erik!"
It laughed at her with his hollowed voice.
He faded away.