Part Thirty Six

The sun filtered through the windows, bathing the rooms of the great hall with gold. The warmth of the sun caressed the two bodies in the main bedchamber that lay upon the floor, heating the body that straddled the other. Ivory legs were spread awkwardly, blood sprinkling them here and there through the cuts. Once clean skirts clung to these limbs, drenched in blood hugging to the form. Death was knocking on the door to the Great Hall, an endless knock that went unheard by other occupants. Life outside and within continued in the cycle in this hoop that never ends.

Erik glared down at the woman beneath him straddling himself over her hips. How long had he wanted to repay Christine for her betrayal? Years. Now here he was doing just that and still birds sang their sweet songs. Living. The sun mad his back even warming his scalp and reflecting off his spares hairs. This woman had long since clawed away the mask from his face, even the wig leaving him bare to her gaze. So that she could see how hideous he was, lettering her see the gruesome sight which was entirely him.

Bloodied hands began to move sluggishly against his own. The fight was leaving the feminine limbs pinned beneath his more masculine weight. Broken, bloodied nails clawed his hands again as they had done so many times. Didn't Christine realize it was futile to fight him? This was Fate, her Fate to repent for the sins she had dealt him. His once living bride, soon to become a true angel.

Smirking smugly he tightened the noose a bit more, making it shred into that slender, sawn like throat. Her body jolted with the tug, those thick lashes lifting to look at him. Gold not blue eyes watched him with a silent plea before rolling back within her head. It was simply the sun playing tricks on him wasn't it? This WAS Christine! Thick chocolate curls seemed to turn a rich blue black shimmering with the sun. Her face was womanly not childish innocence that represented his Angel. The left side of her face was marred by a vertical scar over her cheek and eye all the way to her dark eye brow. Who had hurt his Angel?

"Papa?" a soft voice wavered, catching Erik's attention. Looking up from his work at a little boy who stood in the door way. His eyes were a blue gold, his head adorned with rich dark hair, and his face greatly resembled someone Erik knew. Those tiny hands held a tattered plush toy monkey a small wooden horse tucked under the other.

The boys eyes never wavered, but it was quite obvious he did not understand the scene before him. Only the child seemed to know it was wrong, whatever was being played before him it was wrong. Again that tiny voice spoke, the voice that would save Erik from his great Folly. "Papa? What are you doing to Mama?"

Papa? That was what he called HIM, called him father. He WAS father to this beautiful child, this young boy that would grow into a strong man. Mama? Christine? What was he doing to Christine? The mother of...Their child? One glance down at his believed Christine made Erik realize exactly who had hurt his Angel. Him. He had killed her, his Angel. Killed his Love, his Wife, his World...Esperanza..His Hope!

Within a beat of his clenching heart Erik removed the noose. His Angel lay beneath him, motionless her face pale and those shattered lips blue. Her jaw slowly turning on odd shade, the discoloration when finished would be distinct even compared to the red. Red blood that continued to flow from every cut, crusting over on her once flawless flesh. A mocking smile grinned up at Erik where the flesh had been rubbed raw by the noose.

Good God..What had he done?

Erik gave a horrified cry, slipping from atop her to kneel at her side eyeing the rest of her body. Her legs were blood stained and her once ivory gown was now crimson as thought it had been dyed the awful color. Gently he lifted her in his arms, caressing the limp body to him securing her against him. He held her head against his aching chest, for the chance that she would hear the pain that his heart was beating. She would hear and come back to him, to save him from these heart breaking emotions. Life without this woman was not worth living, children or not. Without her, his Hope, life would simply be an unending void that no one could fill but her. Erik knew at this moment as he looked down into her pale face that without Christine he had merely existed.

Without Esperanza...he would stop living. He would die of loneliness without her, surely he would die of it. Not even the Persian would listen to this saddening tale.

"Esperanza? Please forgive me.." he whispered hoarsely. "I didn't mean for this to happen. God forgive me! Take this breath you have given me to save her. Let me take her place..anything my Lord my God. Do not take this Angel as your sacrificial lamb!" Erik growled through the lump in his throat.

Within his arms Erik held her, remembering not so long ago how she would say to him how safe she felt within his embrace. Now look what these arms of security, these hands of tenderness had done to her. They stole his Angel from him, took her in the most painful way possible. Even his own madness played roll in this moment of Hell, this minute that seemed to drag on for hours, years, eternity.

God please..Not this...Not her...

Biting his lip Erik looked down at her serene face, even with blood and bruises she was lovely. Erik tried his best to block out the small voice in his mind, but it was too late. Even in DEATH Esperanza was beautiful. Like some torturous echo it continued in his mind that indeed his Angel was dead within his arms...all for him.

Lowering his head in obvious defeat his arms bringing her body closer to him. Erik eyed those torn petals, slightly parted as they were only slightly of course. With a tenderness that only he could possess he kissed his wife, his once living bride. The woman that had not dared shun him, not even when first she laid eyes upon his deformity.

Erik had only asked to be loved by Christine. Just to be loved for Himself, that was all he had asked of her. Instead she had shunned him, denied him, and betrayed him. This little broken Angel that he now held in his arms had been the one to love him as he had wanted. Yet he had forced her to live in the shadow of the woman girl-child that had been Christine Daae.

For eight years this woman lived in HER shadow, continuing to love him without end. His greatest sin was never being able to return this devotion to her. Right now he would give anything to see her smile, see her eyes. Feel that heated tongue of hers giving him a lashing over this trivial thing or that. Anything to make things right.

Anything.

It was as though God were listening to his heart, to his prayers. Erik felt rather than heard the faint breath that ghosted over his lips, feather soft, he wondered if he were imagining it. Lowering his head to those parted lips he listened, straining to hear praying for the miracle to bestow itself upon him. She answered with another weak breath that tickled his ear and made his heart sing with joy, with hope!

Thank you God she lives! For now she Lives!

There was hope.

"Lucien! Hurry son go get help! Get Duncan, Mari or Sasha! Hurry lad we don't have much time!" Erik choked out to HIS son. What would Lucien think of this scene when he was older? Would it haunt him? Would he question it? It didn't matter answers would be given when the time came, right now nothing mattered but HER. His children WOULD have a mother when they were older, even if Erik had to challenge God. His children would have a mother, and he would have his heart back...His wife.

"Hold on love. For me, for the children hold on.."

Erik was unaware of the tears staining his cheeks, making his neck damp and his breathing labored. But, he was very aware of the faint maniacal laughter that seemed to echo through the Great Hall. Whether it was real or Erik's own insanity voicing it's mockery of his situation Erik didn't know.

Only that the sound sent chills down his spine.