Chapter twenty five


Raoul raced into the wings of the stage. People were panicking and the shrill sound of someone
crying echoed off the walls. Raoul pushed past the crowd, trying to find the managers. A few paramedics
suddenly pushed by him, saying nothing to him. Raoul frowned but followed them quickly.
"Christine?" Raoul yelled, hoping that she was near. "Christine?"
"There is no use in shouting for her." Firmin said, seeming to appear out of no where. He looked
at Raoul gravely. "She has been taken away."
Raoul's eyes widened. "What?" He suddenly seized Firmin by the collar of his shirt. "What do
you mean she has been taken away?" Raoul shook the manager angrily. "Tell me."
Firmin pushed Raoul back with an angry look. He glared at the young aristocrat. "I suppose you
didn't notice that both she and our Phantom have seemed to disappear, together. She has been taken away
by our masked friend."
"I thought the police were to be watching her." Raoul growled.
"They were, but he got past them."
"How?"
"Make way!"
Raoul and Firmin stepped to the side, letting a line of people through. Carlotta was being dragged
away by an officer, crying out. Before Raoul could speak he saw the dead body of Piangi slowly being cut
free from the noose. He turned away quickly, the image of Piangi's head, turned to one side in an inhuman
way, was stuck in his mind.
Firmin cleared his throat, causing Raoul to look at him. "As you can see, he killed Signor Piangi.
He took his costume and came on stage in his place. We have a feeling that Mademoiselle Daae knew that it
was him."
"If she knew it was him, I think Christine would have done something to stay away from him."
Raoul spat.
"Firmin!" Armand called from the midst of police officers. He waved his hand franticly. "Come
here. We must speak with you."
"If you will excuse me." Firmin said and jogged over to Armand.
Raoul leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. All of this was beginning to confuse him.
Christine said she had no feelings for this man, but it seems like she does. Now, she disappeared with this
strange 'friend.'
"How will I find her?" Raoul said aloud.
A hand suddenly came down on Raoul's shoulder, frightening him. Mme. Giry stood at his side,
her dull eyes looking into his. "I can help you, Monsieur. There is a man that knows where Christine has
been taken."

**********

The hall was dark and the candles slowly burning out. Erik lead Christine through the darkness
with ease. The screams and yelling followed them, frightening Christine with every step. Erik tried his best
comfort her as they hurried through the halls. Her tears ran free, but she made no noise. She wouldn't
answer him or react when he grew impatient at her lagging speed.
"Christine, what is the matter?" Erik asked, finally coming to the door of her dressing room. He
turned and looked at Christine. She looked into his eyes, her own hazed with tears. A tinge of anger began
to well in side him. "Why wont you speak to me? Does my face still frighten you, Christine?" Erik
suddenly grabbed Christine's arm and pulled her close to him. His eyes studied the emotions that flashed
across her face. "Can you live with this, Christine? This is what you will have to look at everyday. This
horror that has plagued me all my life is now upon you."
Silence enveloped them both. Erik stared harshly into Christine's tear filled eyes. She blinked,
sending those tears down her cheeks. She never moved her eyes away from his. Erik felt his heart ache as
he wondered what she was doing. The tears slowly disappeared, but Christine still looked into the deformed
face of the man she once believed to be an angel. That angel was still there and she knew that it was.
Christine lifted her hands and slowly touched Erik's face. He shuddered with the feeling and
moved away from her grasp. Christine let her hands slowly go to her sides. "Your face doesn't scare me,
Erik. It never will again. These scars from long ago and the deformation of your child hood is no longer
there, in my eyes. It is your soul that is scarred more than your face could ever be. Let me love you. Let
me love you like a mother, sister, and a. . . ."
"A wife." Erik whispered, cutting Christine off. He looked back into her eyes. The tears still
glistened in her eyes and he knew that the anger lingered in his own. He turned his eyes away and slipped
into the dressing room. Christine followed closely, not bothering to close the door behind her.
"I will do anything to make you happy." Christine said. She lowered her eyes. "It seems that you
have rarely seen joy in your life. Maybe God has placed me in your existence to do just that."
Erik closed his eyes tightly. This was something he never expected. Christine seemed to be
withering away before his eyes. There was no more joy in her eyes and voice. The starlet seemed frightened
but wouldn't admit to it. He had ruined something without even knowing it.
"This way, Monsieur Le Vicomte. This way."
The voice cut through the silence like a knife. Erik opened his eyes like a flash of lightning.
Christine's eyes widened with fear and she moved to Erik's side. He was startled as she took his hand,
squeezing it tenderly. He looked at her and saw the fear of being caught moving in her soul. He knew she
was troubled by the events of the past few months. How much more could she take?
"Erik. . . ." Christine breathed, holding Erik's hand tightly. She looked up and blushed instantly.
He was staring at her. Christine smiled softly and Erik, much to her joy, returned the smile.
Slowly Erik put a gloved finger to Christine's lips. "Hush. It seems that Monsieur Le Vicomte has
found a guide. If we linger in one place for too long we'll be caught." He raised Christine's hand to his lips
and kissed it softly. He caught her. "Their only way into my home is through the labyrinth, for I have stolen
his only keys to my gates. My dear Akil, though, has never seen such a thing as my labyrinth."
Pressing a panel against the mirror's frame, the glass shifted and let free an opening. Erik took
Christine's hand and helped her pass through the breach. Before disappearing behind the glass himself, he
glanced into the darkness. He could hear Akil and Raoul's voices echoing down the hall. They were calling
to Christine. Erik smiled to himself and disappeared into the darkness of his labyrinth.

**********

Raoul followed the Persian closely. The man said he was a friend of the strange man and never
gave the young Vicomte his name. He had originally taken him out to the street, claiming he had a key to a
door. The door, the Persian explained, lead to a little known path way that lead straight to the Phantom's
home. Upon their arrival the Persian found that he no longer had the key to the door. Without an
explanation the two ran back into the opera house and began their quest through the darkened halls.
"I heard their voices around here." the Persian whispered. He raised his lantern, shinning his light
along the walls of the hall way. He soon came to a stop. A smile slowly appeared over his dark skinned
face. He pointed a finger and Raoul followed it. "Is that Mademoiselle Daae's dressing room?" the Persian
asked, slowly walking towards an open door.
"Yes it is." Raoul replied, following the Persian. He raised his own lantern, studying the area
around him. "Why would they go in here? If that thing wanted to hide her, why leave the door open?"
The two slipped into Christine's dressing room. The Persian closed and latched the door behind
them. He set his lantern down on the vanity table. The light reflected off the mirror, sending strange
shadows every which way. Raoul's eyes darted around the room. He saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Clothes were in their same place as were the things Christine held dear to her.
Raoul lifted his gaze from a small bunch of roses and looked at the Persian. He was standing in
front of the floor length mirror. His dark eyes were studying the frame and his fingers pushing on the glass
slightly. Raoul cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. The Persian was a strange man and his ways were
even stranger.
"I don't think they're behind the mirror." Raoul said, opening a drawer from the vanity table. He
pushed a few items of jewelry around but noticed nothing strange. He turned and looked at the Persian.
The man was now studying the frame of the mirror. His hands groped the sides, pressing down here and
there. "What exactly are you looking for?"
The Persian let out a frustrated sigh and took a few steps back. He studied the mirror from his
distance. "Raoul, this man we're chasing isn't like any other man you've met. He is a master of disguise
and stealth. He can also create things beyond your imagination. When he lived in Persia and served under
the Shah, he created a horrid maze of mirrors for the Shah's mother. The only purpose of the maze was for
a morbid enjoyment." The Persian paused, gazing into the looking glass. "My friend is obsessed with
mirrors and knows how to manipulate them for his own design."
Raoul began to stare at the mirror himself. "Are you saying there is something behind that mirror?"
A smile crossed the Persian's face and he shrugged. "That is what I think." He motioned for
Raoul to follow him. He began to run his hand down the mirror's frame. "There is no way you can move
this mirror away from this spot. It is built into this wall. All the other rooms don't have a mirror like this.
This has to bee the only way to find him. There has to be some type of mechanism to get through, but I
can't seem to find it."
Slowly the two began the task of examining the mirror's case. Their fingers probed every twist and
turn of the frame's artwork. Nothing was lose. Nothing could be pushed, pulled, or moved in any way.
With every passing moment their hopes began to fail.
With a cry of rage Raoul kicked the mirror's frame. The Persian jumped away, shocked at the
man's sudden burst of energy. Raoul kicked the frame again, this time his foot coming in contact with
something they had both overlooked. A small piece of the mirror's frame was different than the others. It
had been turned upside down and placed at the very bottom, just out of the eye's reach. In a blind rage,
Raoul managed to find it.
The mirror moved with a creak. The two men fell silent and they exchanged glances. Raoul took a
step forward, holding the lantern at eye level. The beams of light revealed a long, stone passageway. Lights
flickered in the dark distance and the sound of water echoed through the air.
"You've found it." The Persian whispered. He laughed, mainly for the fact of Raoul's dumb luck.
"We just might have a chance to save Christine."
Raoul glared at the Persian. "What do you mean, might?"
"This wont be as simple as you think." The Persian took the lantern from Raoul. He stepped
beyond the glass and into the mouth of the passageway. He glanced at Raoul. "Like I said before, he
created a maze for morbid pleasure. Our journey through this darkness will determine if we live or die, and
will resolve Christine's fate"
Taking the lamp from the vanity table Raoul stepped into the labyrinth. He looked at the Persian
and let out a heavy breath. "I don't care what it takes. I'll save Christine from this murderer, even if I have
to kill the man."