So, it was Philippe, I think some of you guessed that previously, but it was rather wonderful to hear some of you didn't I'm glad you had that as a little shock ;) I'm so glad you seem to all like Nadir, I really wanted him to be a character that you liked.
I just wanted to say a huge thank you to PhantomFan01 and tell you all how grateful I' am of this person, because I just realised they have written a review for pretty much every chapter since I first posted a chapter! I'm so thankful, I wish I could give you real roses but have *Erik roses* instead X
But I'm grateful for you all, and hope you can stay with me till the end, because I'm not even nearly finished yet!
So, anyway enjoy this chapter.
*Oh I haven't said but Nadir Kahn is NOT my character, he is actually from Susan Kay's 'Phantom'.
Chapter 38-Eriks POV
I sat on my high back chair, rocking Christine, I had once seen a woman do the same with a crying infant, I thought perhaps it would comfort Christine. I didn't know what to do; she was beyond grief, beyond scared. She clung onto me for dear life, her tiny hands clutching on my now tear soaked shirt, her eyes were clamped shut, and her bottom lip trembling, I wasn't sure if she was hurt or not, her nose was bloody still, and a bruise was forming on her cheek, I saw that her legs were cut too, through her white stockings, but I quickly pulled my eyes up, I shouldn't be looking there. Her dress was in tatters, ripped, shredded and was soaked with the wet of the pavement. I knew she needed to get out of it soon; otherwise she would catch an illness. But the way she clung to me, the way she sobbed when I loosened my grip, showed me she didn't want to be put down. Perhaps she was delusional with fear and thought I was some Prince charming, who had just nobly rescued her. I was doing my upmost to control my rage, at these men and most of all at Nadir. Every time I thought of his face, my stomach turned to flames, and my hands reached inside my cloak automatically for my lasso. He better have a damn good reason for leaving her, even if the reason was good I'd make him pay, what if I hadn't got to Christine in time? What if I had been a few moments late, then what? Christine would have had to endure the fate I had too so very long ago. Sick rose to my throat, and my back folded slightly. What if they had done that? What if they had hurt her, my hands which were twitching pulled Christine's shaking body towards my chest a little more. My breathing was fast now. She was here, she was safe.
I looked down on my poor angels face, my singing had calmed her, but still she wouldn't open her eyes. My poor Christine.
'E-Erik, never let me go, never put me down.' She stammered, pushing her head under my arm, covering herself with my cloak, the way she said it, she was utterly terrified, but I needed to know was it just the men she feared.
'Christine, my angel, listen to me. Now, you've got to listen.' I kept my voice calm, I saw her stop wriggling and relax, I moved my cloak slightly, exposing her face to the light, she moved her face onto my chest, I nearly had a fit, my body was going into over shock at the fact she was holding onto me in such a way.
'I will not put you down, but you have to tell me, why I can't put you down and why you won't open your eyes.' I put my hand near her head, I was so tempted, to stroke her hair, to feel her curls again, I hated seeing her like this, I wished I could comfort her more. She was so upset, it pained my soul and made my inner anger begin to rise.
'If you put me down, he will get me, just like he got Papa, I don't want to open my eyes, if I do open them he will be there.' She trembled and shook as she said this, in a tiny voice, one so full of terror I felt like weeping. But who was this 'he' the men on the street? No, the men she had described to me as her father's murderers were 'posh' and 'rich.' Those who had tried to take her on the street, a tremble went through my body at the thought, were nothing but low life scum, there was nothing 'posh' or 'rich' about them.
'Okay my angel, well done. But who is 'he,' tell me what did he do?' I knew I was asking a lot of her, but I needed to know. I watched the tears fall down her face, and some instinct inside of me, decided to pull her close, when I realised what I did I panicked and nearly dropped her, I watched her hands clutch even tighter.
'He-he-he-murdered my Papa.' She whispered, sobbing now, 'he was at the ball, he realised it was me.'
My heart stopped, she had seen her father's murderer? At the ball? Good God, no wonder she was a state that topped with a near rape, the poor sweet angel. I let her sob for a few moments, my mind thinking of some posh invalid gazing at her at the ball, feeling happy with himself, for removing her beloved father. My hands began to frantically twitch and so did a vein that ran across my disgusting face, I knew that was a sign of the dark anger beginning to take me. I tried to focus on Christine, she needed comfort, I had to resist the urge to storm out the room, go to the ball and murder every one of the posh bastards. I felt some of my anger diminish as I heard Christine hiccup.
'I'm sorry Christine, but he's not here anymore, it's just me, just your Maestro, we are back at my home now, it's okay I won't let anyone harm you.' I felt her grip relax slightly.
'But-but how-how do I know?' I felt sorrow replace the rising anger; she had lost her trust in me. It made me sad, but she had a good reason, the poor girl. I rose, felling her grip change from on my shirt to around my neck, I was shaking, she was touching my skin. I reached the organ and sat her on my lap, she was like a child, she weighed next to nothing. I took my hands from either side of her and played a simple melody, I saw her gasp, and her eyes flutter open.
'Oh Erik, it is you.' She said her voice full of relief; she didn't release her grip on me. I looked into her big blue eyes; they were full of hurt, misunderstanding, pain, sorrow, and overall fear. I resisted the urge to hold her close.
'Of course it is Christine, I'm glad to see you've opened your eyes I was starting to miss their prettiness.' I tried to cheer her up, but she only clung tighter.
'Erik, what if they try and hurt me again.' She whispered, tears leaking down her face, I caught them with one of my extremely long fingers. I turned her so she was looking at me, a wave of flinches and twitches, shot through me as I did so.
'Christine, my angel. I will not let anyone hurt you again. Never again.' I said firmly, losing myself in her eyes. I felt her head fall on my chest.
'I'm so scared Erik, if it wasn't for you, I don't know what those men would of done to me.' she whimpered.
'They would of raped you.' I said bluntly, without thinking, I felt her grip loosen and her wide eyes looked at me in horror.
'They would of r-r-r-aped me?' she exclaimed in horror, showing her innocence. I nodded, and felt a shiver go through her body, she needed to change, the wet dress was starting to make her cold.
'I can't think of anything more horrid, thank goodness you were there Erik. Rape has to be the most disgusting thing ever, how can that even cross someone's mind' she whispered, as if she spoke too loud it might happen to her. My mind was back in the cage, back with the gypsy, back with the pain, the horror, the sheer humiliation. So much so I forgot where I was.
'Rape is the worst thing that can happen; I wouldn't wish it on anyone. It ruined my life.' I whispered, the scars on my back seemed to want to make their presence known, to remind me. I saw Christine's mouth drop open, I shook my head, oh my gosh what had I just said? No, surely I hadn't said anything to let her know.
'Erik? Have-have-you been raped?' Christine stammered, wiping away her tears looking at me. A lump rose to my throat, no, I couldn't tell her. I wouldn't tell her, I was repulsed with the memory, no, she couldn't know. But, what would I say? I cursed myself a thousand times.
'Christine I-'I feebly began, but before I could continue Christine clung onto me a fresh wave of sobs took her, shaking her body.
'Oh Maestro.' She looked up at me, her teeth chattering slightly, her face was extremely pale.
'Come on my angel, you need to change, you'll be ill otherwise, I think I have just the thing to make you feel a little better, do you wish to see?' I saw her sit back slightly, and wipe away her tears from her dirty face.
'You're not going to leave me are you?' She whimpered, clutching me as I stood, I placed her down, but still her little hands held me, twisting at my cloak.
'Only for a moment I won't be long, you will be able to see and hear me. No one is going to harm you my child, your safe now.' I tried to comfort her, but still she held onto me, I removed her hands, lightly, they clutched onto my long fingers, I twitched, and flew backward, my body trying to get away. She let go and her bottom lip dropped, I knelt down in front of her, so I was eye level.
'Christine, how about if I sing so you can hear me?' I watched her eyes momentarily sparkle, and she nodded, I smiled back though she couldn't see it, and began to sing a simple melody.
Melody melody, melody melody, Souring above every rooftop,
Sung so melodiously.
Melody melody, my kind of melody,
Gentle and flowing a free.
Whispering under each tree,
Melody melody, my melody de Paris.
I raced into the large bathroom continuing my silly melody, the huge bath stood in the middle of the room; it had large brass feet, it was a very plain room, mainly white tiled. I didn't see the pleasure in bathing, looking at my body even in water, was something that repulsed me. But I knew it was something other people enjoyed, and it would ease Christine's sore and bruised body. I let the water pour, the tub began to fill with a puff of steam, I still sung, I laid out two fluffy white towels, and reached up onto the shelf and felt my fingers touch a pot, I brought it down, yes this would be just the thing. It was a bath salt from Persia, its reaction with water still fascinated me; I poured some in and watched as the orangey substance hit the water, it automatically turned into bubbles, so much so I couldn't see the top of the water anymore. I stopped the water, dipping my hand into it checking the temperature, I hated having the water warm, if I bathed it was with cold water, always cold. So when I pulled my hand back I knew the heat was just right.
I went to call Christine, but stopped abruptly when I saw her. Her knees pulled up to her chin, rocking slightly, with the tatters of the ball gown around her, her small legs in their wet stockings. I sighed, the poor girl.
'Christine? I have something for you my child.' I called quietly; she turned quickly, and then ran to me, she took my hand, as I walked her into the bathroom, I watched her face look amazed as she saw the bubbles, and automatically dropped my hand reaching for them. I smiled slightly, even in her grief she was attracted to the magic of the bubbles, the way they caught the light, and cast little rainbows. One popped, she removed her hands quickly and jumped back, turning to me.
'It will help you, you should feel better after, there are two towels. I shall just be outside if you need me. I hope the water is okay for you, perhaps you'll like to try it first.' I said quickly, I didn't want to be intruding or seem too forward. I just knew that if she stayed in that dress for any longer she would catch her death. I watched her look at me slightly nervously, and then at the water, I nodded encouragingly.
'It's okay I'll be just outside, I promise.' I gave her a little bow, and left, closing the door; I heard frantic steps towards it.
'Erik, please don't shut it.' Christine begged me, pulling the door open. I stood, opening and closing my mouth, but the pleading look in her eye, told me to allow this. I sighed, and watched her smile slightly then go back into the bathroom.
I sat in my chair, allowing my body to slump slightly, now Christine was out of sight I could let out some of my emotions. I had been trying to hide them from Christine, who could barely control her own sorrow. I was filled with anger, the vein was still twitching on my face, my hands had stopped now, but I still had the feeling of a fire inside of me, the blackness within me, trying to break free. I felt sick, physically I couldn't hold in this anger, it was taking me whole, and painting images of blood and my Punjab lasso in my mind. But I knew I had to stay strong for us both. The thought of Christine being removed from my life, due to those cretins, made me shake, she might off been taken from me, erased from my life. No. I was panting now, what if they had taken her like they intended too. No. I rose and began pacing.
I had been pacing up and down, waiting for Christine, when I heard the first of the piercing screams. My heart had stopped, several more screams followed, no surely they couldn't be Christine's screams. My stomach went cold and I had filled with rage, no I told myself, she was with Nadir, she would be safe, this had calmed me for a moment, then the screams began again, before I was thinking I grabbed my cloak and hat and had bound to the door, to the outer world. My mind and heart were racing when I reached the cold air of the night. I closed my eyes, not wishing to look, I my stomach turning as each scream got louder, I heard male voices. Someone was taking advantage of a woman. It couldn't be Christine, no, she was with Nadir, I trusted him with her, he would protect her. I kept to the shadows, toying with the Punjab lasso in my hand, men were such foul creatures. I had walked silently, my rage filling me. Then I realised, then I had noticed the girl on the floor, pinned down my torso, her body thrashing wildly on the cold pavement, was Christine. My heart had stopped, and I felt the heat rise in me, I couldn't see properly, all I knew was I needed to save her to get her away. My poor darling, I let the rage take me, how dare they hurt her, I had flown at the first man, who pinned her down, smacking his face and throwing him to the floor, they hadn't noticed me in the shadows so my attack had been completely ruled by the element of surprise, I knew even if they had seen me miles away, I would be no match for them, I could move like the wind, use the shadows to my advantage, make nearly anything into a weapon. I had learnt the art of fighting from a young age, and darkness was my parent, I was once the master of death. These men weren't worth my expertise, or my methods of quick killing. Once I had sprung on them all, I felt that black anger fill me again, no longer could I see clearly, no longer could I think, all I knew was I wanted to hurt them, the veins twitching, my eyes narrowing and my shoulders lifting all in that way they used to before a kill. I had looked slightly at Christine, and my vision cleared slightly, a nagging voice in my head told me not to kill them, because of her. Nadir's promise had rung in my head, why should I listen to him! Why wasn't he with her? I had been twitching, the men cowering before me, I had their fates in my long hand. I had stolen a glance at Christine, my sweet angel; the look in her eyes was terrified. I knew then I couldn't murder them, if I did I would lose her. They weren't worth that. No, I would rather give my life than lose her.
I held my head in my hands, I listened to the small splashes of the water coming from the bathroom. My poor angel, she had suffered so much in her short life. But constantly, my mind went back to the murderer of her Papa, I was curious, so the man was still alive, and breathing. I thought perhaps he might of been another drunken killer who was in Paris for a drink. But no, this man seemed to have audacity, he remained in Paris, and surrounded himself by rich people, perhaps he was part of the aristocratic scene, perhaps he was one of them. I didn't know, but I wished to. I wanted to hurt this man, something inside of me snapped at the thought of him emotionally ruining Christine. I was one to forgive and forget. I liked a plan, I liked to think, I liked to scare. My mind was pulled away from its black thoughts by the singing that came from the bathroom. It made my heart go cold and stomach tighten. Ever other word was interrupted by a whimper or hiccup.
Love never dies,
Love never falters,
Hearts may get broken,
Love endures.
I was drawn to her voice, like a mere mortal would be called to an angel, but the sadness was too much, her voice was woven with sorrow. I walked t the door, then realised what I was doing, I turned my back on the door. I was breathing quickly now. Realising I just nearly walked in on her bathing. That would of been hard to explain.
'My child are you okay?' I called to her worriedly.
'Yes Maestro.' Her voice sound slightly stronger than before, less like it was going to break into sobs at any moment, but still the sadness was there. She emerged from the bath room, now in a short sleeved night robe, it was long and white. Her hair was slightly damp from the water, and now she looked as if she had all the pain in the world within her, her eyes looked scared and tired and her face bruised and pale. I watched her look left to right before she entered the room, looking as if someone may attack her at any moment, she bound straight to my side, standing in my personal space, it made me jump slightly, but she looked at me her eyes scared.
'My angel, no one is here to hurt you. Its only me here. Only me.' I said soothingly, I had a million burning questions to ask her, but I saw the look on her face, she was tired and confused, I would only ask a few question tonight. Then I noticed the big bruises on her arms, and felt my throat tighten.
'Come Christine, let me fix them for you.' I pointed at her bruises, she nodded and followed me to my chair, she sat on my feet, practically on my knees. She was so close to me, I wanted to run, but I needed to stay with her. I withdrew a small pot of white cream from my draw, and passed it to her.
'Here rub these in, it will make the pain less and the bruise go.' She gave me a watery smile, then opened the pot, I could tell she was trying to be brave, trying to put on a guard on her emotions, I could detect it a mile off, I had built a guard for my emotions long ago. I wouldn't let Christine do the same. I watched her, rub the cream into her lower arm, she looked transfixed, mesmerised by the fact she was hurt. I could tell she was somewhere else and not in the room with me. I watched her feebly try and rub her shoulders, but couldn't reach. My mind stopped, and my body shook, as I realised I now had the pot in my hand. I couldn't touch her, I couldn't do it. I had touched her too much, i wanted to help her, to rub the cream in, but no, my hands shook and trembled, my body twitched, if I touched her, either she or I would get hurt, she had had enough pain for one day. I closed my eyes and tried to fight it, but I couldn't, it was too much. I cursed, angry, slamming the pot down.
'I'm so sorry Maestro. I must be such a burden, you've done so much.' Christine said, thinking my anger was for her, her voice was sorrowful and heavy, I could see the tears leaking from her eyes.
'No, my child, never say such a thing. Don't be silly. I have to ask, what happened to Nadir tonight?' I watched her turn to me, looking pained.
'I-I-I don't know, he was there one moment and gone the next. I couldn't find him anywhere.' I raged inside, cursing the dratted Persian a thousand times. How dare he leave her side! How dare he!
'Oh poor Raoul too, I was so rude I just ran away from him.' She burst into tears again, I could tell her emotions were all too much for one day, she was only young; everything had happened so quickly, no wonder she felt such a way, even so my gut tightened at the mention of the foppish boy. I sighed, and picked her up off the floor, before she was even in my arms she was clinging to me again, she needed sleep, and rest, her emotions where all over the place and wearing her out. Her head buried into my underarm, hiding almost. Her tears falling, I reached her room, and gently put her down onto her bed, covering her with the duvet. No, sooner I put her down, she fell asleep, her head hitting the pillow, and her face resting at last.
I sighed as I looked at her, and walked to my chair collapsing in it by the fire. I needed to know what happened. Where Nadir was, what the hell he was playing at, who this murderer was, and everything in-between. Something wasn't right, I didn't know what, but something else had happened at this ball, something that was playing at the back of my mind, for now Christine was in no fit state to answer questions, she needed rest. I sighed, the poor little angel, I thanked the heavens she wasn't booked to sing tomorrow, I could let her sleep. I wasn't surprised how easy she had taken to sleep, she was exhausted and drained. I sipped at my whiskey needing it to calm my nerves at the thought of my nearly losing her. Then there was an ear piercing scream.
I leapt out my chair, allowing the whiskey to fall to the floor, the screaming continued, louder now. I barged into Christine's room; she was sat up in her bed, covering her eyes, the covers thrown off her, as she screamed. My heart raced, I bound to her side, checking the room. No one was there. Of course there wasn't.
'Christine?' I panted, my heart racing, why was she screaming was she in pain, I had to cover my ears to block out the sound, as I got nearer to her. She stopped screaming at the sound of my voice and collapsed into sobs, which shook her body. I hesitantly put my hand on her back, she turned and lung herself on me, sobbing into my neck, I didn't hold her this time, but pushed her away, and back into her bed.
'What happened my angel.' I asked quietly looking into her panicked eyes.
'He was here Erik, he killed Papa, then me, then you.' She sobbed, shaking her head, it had been a dream. I knew the pain of not being able to escape reality, each night was the same for me, the dream of my Mother and the mirror. At first it had frightened me, left me sobbing; now it reminded me of the beast I was. This was no bad thing. I hated the thought of Christine having night terrors, something completely out of my or her control, something I could not stop no matter what, that angered me. I had promised to protect her, to be there, but I couldn't stop this.
'He's not here Christine, it's just me. Just me and you, no one else is here. No one enters my home without me knowing.' I said quietly, I watched her sobs die down slightly.
'But-' I rose a hand at her whimpering protest.
'I promise. I will not let anyone harm you now. They are just dreams, in your head, think of other things.' I watched her, relax slightly, falling back onto her pillows, tears falling down her face in a heart breaking way.
'Sleep now Christine, you need to relax, try and rest. I will check on you throughout the night.' I got up and went to leave, when she jumped from her bed and clutched my hand. I turned swiftly.
'Please don't leave me Erik.' She pleaded, I sighed sadly.
'Of course I won't.' I had an idea; I knew what would get her asleep. 'Wait here, I'll be back, I just need my chair.' I raced from the room and lifted the chair into her room. I smiled as I saw her tired eyes peak over the covers. I placed the chair next to her bed.
'You relax Christine, I'm going to sing you too sleep.' I watched her turn so she was facing me, and smiled slightly.
'Thank you Erik, Papa was right, he told me I would be visited by the Angel of Music.' She yawned, my heart stopped, it was like she knew what I was about to sing. I smiled slightly, what a strange coincidence it was, I had written this song, the first time I had seen her crying on the stone floor of the chapel, those months ago. I pulled the chair to her bedside and begun.
I have watched you fall I am in your eyes Don't lose your faith
Through those tender years
And every time I thought there must be more that I could do
You found a light, a different way out there in front of you
Just that close to you
And now I see your innocence against a troubled sky
Everything you once believed is now a question why
It's OK
Don't turn away
Everything that makes you who you are will not lead you astray
When it gets cold
Too dark to see
Reach in your soul and find me there,
I'll always be
your constant angel
She fell asleep before I had even finished, but I remained at her bedside, gazing at her long into the night.
XXX
Madame Giry POV
It was very late, when I got the frantic knocking on my door. I went to open it suspiciously, grumbling and expecting it to be one of the cast members complaining about something tedious. I opened it, ready to give a bollocking, but to my surprise the Vicomte was standing there. I gasped, pulling my shawl around me, he was sweating, breathing hard, his hair messy and wind swept, his face red. He was dressed however in the finest dress robes I had ever seen. The ball of course, that's where he had been. But he had sheer terror written all over his face.
'Madame-is-Christine-safe?' he panted, bending over coughing into his glove, I had to do a double take.
'Monsieur?' I asked, in wonder, then my body filled with dread. 'Sir, where is Christine?' I knew she had gone to the ball and meant to have been Raouls date for the evening, I had presumed he would of returned her.
'She left the ball, none of us could find her. I thought maybe she had returned to you.' He said quietly. Before another word could be said, I bustled out the room, and raced to Meg and Christine's bedroom. I prayed, that she would be tucked up in bed, perhaps too tired to have said anything to me about her return. I prayed and prayed. The Vicomte had followed me. I closed my eyes and opened the door, I looked in only Megs bed was full with her sleeping form, the other bed, Christine's bed was empty. I heard the Vicomte swear. I closed the door, and felt sick, where was she? I felt like I was going to vomit, what if she was on the streets at this hour. I shivered, and raced down the black stair case, maybe she was outside, the gate was locked! Maybe she was waiting to be let in, yes, maybe that was it.
'I'm checking outside.' I told the Vicomte, who looked confused as we reached the doors.
'Madame, she's not out there.' He replied, decidedly, like that was an answer.
'I'm checking again.' I snapped, he followed behind me silently, as we walked under the heavy clouds; I raced along to the iron gates. My heart sunk I couldn't see Christine, I unlocked them with a set of keys and allowed ourselves onto the streets. I was panicking.
'How did you get in Vicomte?' I asked curiously, trying to calm myself, as we began to walk, each step making me panic more and more.
'Andre gave me a key Madame.' He said through gritted teeth, I didn't take my notice because my heart was going tenfold, the night was dark and wet, freezing with the threat of snow. I could hear loud voices and laughs carrying themselves from taverns, as men began to stagger their way home. Dread filled me entirely, what if she was hurt, what if she was dead, what if the men found her and hurt her. A million things ran through my head, all of them as bad as the other, my stomach knotting like the time I had first received the frantic message, about the girl with her murderer Papa in an alley. I felt like that again, I didn't know the situation, how bad it was, or anything. I felt angry and sick, I shivered as I walked. Then my heart stopped.
'There look what's that?' The Vicomte said, striding ahead. I froze to the spot, I knew what it was before he had even told me, I nearly vomited. I felt the breath leave me.
'Its fabric.' The Vicomte still hadn't worked it out. He moved the pink shreds of material around in his hand, a pile of it lay on the floor, in tatters. I turned away, I knew what this meant.
'Good God, its Christine's dress.' I heard the Vicomte gasp.
Indeed it was and that meant only one thing: Christine was hurt.
I hoped you liked that.
I'm slightly worried I made Christine a bit over the top, so I'd love to hear your opinions on her emotions.
Thank you once again for all reading, your support is amazing!
You're all fantastic people!
*Reviewers get to hear Erik's sing that beautiful song, and have one of his baths*
Ohh I had two songs, the first is 'Melody de Paris' from Yeaston+Kopit's Phantom
The second is 'Constant Angel' by Ramin Karimloo. (One of my favourite songs ever!)