Chapter Twenty Four
A/N: Surprise! An early update. This chapter is here to torture you but I promise my story will have a happy ending. Reviews are always appreciated.
Christine had never felt such absolute darkness in her entire life. There was a deep nausea assaulting her ability to collect herself as she struggled to remember what had happened. Her back was stiff and ached; the floor beneath her was incredibly hard and cold. Bile rose in her throat and there was no way to stop the inevitable. She rolled onto her side, emptying her stomach. Her whole body trembled uncontrollably. In the darkness she lied next to her own vomit, wondering where she was for what seemed like eternity.
A sigh of relief left her lips when her hands moved freely; she had not been tied up. She tested her feet, also finding they were free of any binding. Rolling onto her knees, she placed a single hand on her head as the dull headache she had woken up with had begun to throb painfully. She scooted away in the opposite direction of her bile, the smell lingering.
Christine gave herself a few moments before shakily rising to her feet. Without her cane to assist in navigation, the girl felt horribly vulnerable. She walked forward slowly with her hands thrust in front of her body, surprised when she did not hit anything with her shins. Finding the wall, she pressed her palm against it and was greeted with a terrible iciness. It seemed even colder here than in the bowels of the opera! She circled the room, noticing it was entirely bare of anything. There was no furniture, no carpeting- there were no windows. A give in the wall's design suggested the presence of an opening, but Christine did not feel any latch or knob.
She was trapped.
Her teeth chattered as she struggled to collect her thoughts. There was no doubt Ashkan was her captor-the simple phrase he had spoken before tackling her to the floor had revealed his stoic and heavily accented tone. The girl rubbed her hands together, the chill of the chambers beginning to take its toll. Her fingers were filthy from the grime that covered the walls and floor. The curls that were neatly brushed through this morning had become matted and tangled in the earlier struggle.
Were they still in France? Was Erik here as well? Was he alright? How long had she even been here?
Something dug into her chest beneath her bodice and outside of her chemise. Christine awkwardly felt inside, greeted with the tip of something sharp. She then remembered her rifling through the kitchen drawers for a weapon before she had been attacked. Thank God she had a means of defense! The girl opted to keep the knife in place until it was called for. She had a sinking feeling she would need to use it.
But she was so cold. Christine paced back and forth, hoping to warm up from the activity. She stayed on the opposite side of the room, ashamed as she sought to avoid her own bile. The building was by no means large-it felt almost cramped. A wave of exhaustion swept over her and she sunk to the floor, still shivering and crossing her arms over her chest, the knife digging in ever so slightly, but not cutting the fabric of her bodice or chemise in its position.
Her stomach growled. She had not eaten since the day before. At least, she thought it was still the same day as when she had been captured. Christine was also incredibly thirsty-her tongue felt dry in her mouth.
Where was Erik though? He had sought to take out Ashkan that very day. Was Nadir helping him? She hoped he was not alone. She desperately hoped they would find her soon.
Slumped back into the wall, Christine took an uneasy rest that her body demanded.
She woke up to freezing water being splashed all over her front and shook from the iciness that seemed to invade her veins, crying out.
"No more sleeping." She heard her captor speak in that very same emotionless tone from earlier.
"W-where a-are w-we?" Christine stuttered, almost feeling pained by the wetness of her dress being met with the stale, cold air of the chambers.
"France." He answered simply.
"W-where in F-France?" She pushed, her teeth chattering so loud she could barely speak.
"Empty prison. There is no one for miles."
Her heart clenched with fear. Would she die here?
"W-why a-am I h-here?"
"You will bring Erik to me." The eerie calmness of the statement made her shiver harder.
"H-he d-doesn't even know I-I'm h-here."
"He will."
Without warning, his fists were wrapped in her curls and she yelped at the pain.
"Stay still," he commanded, a clear threat in his voice.
She shivered but obeyed, feeling him saw away at one of her locks with some sharp instrument. Tears pricked her eyes but she held in the sobs threatening to escape as he finished.
"Done." He stated, releasing her hair. She pulled away, wishing she could sink into the wall. "Water. Bread."
She heard the clattering of something on the floor in front of her and the man's receding footsteps. A noise reminiscent of Erik's passage in the wall closing met her ears, and then she was alone.
Gingerly, she reached her fingers in front of her and found a cup filled with liquid. She clutched it and held it to her nose, noting no odd odor. Christine took a little in her mouth and gargled to rid herself of the bile taste. She spat it out on the floor beside her and then began to actually drink, the liquid dribbling down her chin in her fervor.
He had also left some hard bread for her to eat. Christine wondered why he would feed his captive. Was there pity somewhere deep within him? Did he have a wife and children? Could he be swayed to release her?
She nibbled on the stale food and sipped more water. Sated, she curled back into a ball, still trembling from the low temperature in the room. "Please find me, Erik," she whispered.
Christine tried to concoct a plan while she waited in the chamber. Perhaps she could appeal to his human nature and he would let her go. The option she did not want to resort to remained tucked away in her bodice. Erik had told her the most lethal places on the human body. A direct and ruthless stab to one of them would mean sure death.
She had the element of surprise on her side; Christine doubted her captor expected her-a blind woman, to attack him. The girl was weaker than him and- without her vision to rely upon- an accurate blow would be incredibly difficult to come by.
And what consequences would follow such actions? It would haunt her until the day she died, to know she had taken someone's life. But if she did not end it, Erik would. Christine desperately wished he would never have to involve himself in violence again. She wanted him to be happy, to feel safe and warm and cared for.
Whatever came to pass, she knew he would stand by her and she would care for him as long as he needed. If he did kill again, she would stay with him. And if she had to resort to violence herself? Erik would be there…of that she had no doubt.
Christine huddled into the corner of the room once more, waiting and hearing nothing. How many hours had passed?
The passage rolled open once more. She heard the shuffling of footsteps approaching her and sunk into herself.
"He will be here soon." The accented voice spoke confidently.
"What did you do?" She asked, frightened of the answer.
"Your hair and a note with our location. I left it on the Daroga's porch. By now, Erik knows where you are and will come here. It is better to be far away from people when this ends. The Shah has realized it will be too complicated to bring Erik back to Persia, so he will die here."
Christine shook. "Please, please, don't do this! Please let me go, let us go."
"I cannot do that," he answered coldly.
"Do you have a wife? Do you have children?" she pressed, unprepared for the sudden stinging contact his hand made with her cheek.
She cringed, tears flowing down her face as she cradled the flesh lightly with her hand.
"You do have a family." She said softly.
"Do not speak anymore." He demanded.
"That is why you are here…to protect them." The girl continued in spite of the burning pain.
"STOP!" he shouted, causing her to flinch backwards.
She heeded his command and ceased her talking. He spoke then, quietly at first.
"Erik is a bad man. He cannot live."
"Is that what the Shah told you?" Christine asked softly.
"He is the devil! Have you seen his face?" he hissed.
"I have…and I love him," she confessed, shocking her captor into silence.
"Then you are the Devil's whore," he spat finally, causing a deep rage to boil within the girl.
"I am not!" she snapped angrily. "Erik is no devil, and if you see him in such a light it is because the world has made him that way!"
A meaty hand closed around her throat and she sputtered, clawing at the fingers. "He is a magician and he has tricked you," he hissed as his grip tightened.
Christine gasped for air and pressed her hands against the flesh of his face, scraping her nails down into the skin until he released her neck.
"ALKALIBA!" He cursed, hauling off and striking her across the face once more, the ring on one of his fingers cutting into her already tender skin.
"KNULLA DIG!" she spat back in her native tongue. FUCK YOU! Her head pounded as she pressed her palm against her cheek and felt the warmth of blood greet her fingers.
The man cursed again before leaving, the passage slamming shut at his exit.
He did not return.
Christine fell into a fitful slumber, still sitting upright, her cheek stinging as the icy air hit the gash. She did not dream.
"Wake up." The command startled her.
"Erik?" she murmured, still gathering herself.
"No." The voice growled, and she remembered her captor. He dragged her to her feet as she stumbled, his fingers digging into her forearm. Something hard and smooth pressed against her back.
"Do not run away or I will shoot you."
She froze but nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as they moved forward. The passage rolled open and they made their way through some kind of corridor, her boots clacking against the ground as they moved.
Another door opened and the unmistakable scent of fresh air hit her nostrils. It was freezing and she wondered if it was snowing as well. The man shoved her forward and she tumbled onto the ground, icy wetness covering her dress, confirming her earlier suspicions as to the weather. She heard the galloping hooves of a horse approaching.
"Here comes your devil," the man crouched down and whispered into her ear as she heard the cocking sound of the weapon.
"Erik! He has a gun!" She screamed at the top of her lungs in warning.
A shot rang out followed by the terrified whinny of a horse. There was a scuffle in the snow, heavy footsteps shuffling after a thud sounded.
She shrieked, imagining the worst.
"RELEASE HER!" Erik's voice shouted suddenly, strong and unwavering-deadly.
So, Ashkan had not hit killed her beloved after all! Christine's relief was short-lived however as she heard the sound of the gun cocking once more.
All thoughts left her head as her only goal became to protect Erik.
Trembling but determined, she found the knife within her bodice and clutched its handle. With desperation she yelled, hoping to distract her captor from his fixation on her fiancée. She then grabbed onto Ashkan's arm, eliciting a surprised cry from the Persian before ferociously shoving the knife through his chest.
Another shot rang out.
"CHRISTINE!" Erik cried hoarsely. Christine barely noticed his footsteps sprinting in her direction.
Ashkan's struggling, rasping breaths could be heard beneath her. Her hand was soaked in his blood and she stumbled backwards, dropping the knife into the snow.
"T-the gun-." She stuttered, falling onto her knees, unsure of who she was addressing.
Erik was there-now taking her place over the man. The snapping of bones and a final, struggling gasp met her ears.
"It is over." Erik announced somberly as she pressed her hands against the ground, breathing harshly. A second pair of galloping hooves could be heard then.
"Erik…" she murmured, suddenly feeling a harsh burning in her side. "Erik…"
"Christine?" his voice held concern. She felt his gloved hands cupping her cheeks. The girl gasped and pressed a palm against her right side, warm liquid seeping onto her fingers.
"Oh no—," he choked out, his own hand covering hers heavily. "No, no, no!" He shouted, desperation coloring his tone.
"W-what?" Christine was confused, only understanding an unbearable agony ripped through her side.
"KHAN! KHAN! SHE'S BEEN SHOT!" Erik cried furiously.
"Erik," she spoke softly, tears streaming down her face. "Help me," she begged, reaching one hand out to grasp his collar. The action must have broken something inside him, for he began to weep.
"Christine, listen to me. You are going to be alright, I promise." He shifted her in his arms, his hand covering the bullet wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.
"Don't leave me," she gasped out, terrified.
"Never," he vowed. "KHAN!"
"Keep her upright, Erik," the voice of Nadir demanded firmly as his footsteps approached.
"Nadir…" she murmured, her eyes feeling heavy. "Nadir please, it hurts so much," she cried, trembling in Erik's arms.
"You have been shot, Christine, but you will be alright. Erik, talk to her, keep her awake. I have to stop the blood flow."
Her head slumped against her beloved's shoulder as she felt Nadir's hands at her side. Her teeth chattered as the pain ripped through her and she sobbed.
"I am so sorry. You cannot sleep now, Christine. Do not sleep. Stay with me!" Erik demanded- the fear in his voice unmistakable.
"D-did I k-kill him?" She asked weakly, one arm wrapped around Erik's neck.
"No, my love. I ended it. You are innocent," he reassured her, brushing a strand of hair off of her forehead.
"I am so-so sorry, Erik. So sorry," she cried as she felt Nadir's fingers prod the wound.
"KHAN!" he snapped.
"I am being as gentle as I can, Erik. I must make sure the bullet is gone." The Persian returned apologetically.
"Stay with me, Christine," Erik urged, pressing his face into her hair, his tears wetting the tendrils there.
"It will…be okay," she rasped out, pressing her hand into the back of his neck.
"Promise me you will live," he sobbed suddenly. "I cannot be without you. My angel. My Christine. Please don't leave me!"
"I p-promise." She returned before coughing. "I will stay," she whispered even as her grasp on him weakened.
"No, no, no, no, no! Christine, stay with me!" he shouted as her eyelids fluttered.
"The bullet is out. I must close the wound now," Nadir spoke sternly. "Christine, stay with us child."
Their voices faded as her eyes closed. She knew Erik was shouting at her, pleading. She tried to obey. She did not want to leave him like this-so alone and so broken. He needed her to care for him. He needed love.
She tried to speak to him, to offer him some comfort. Only one word left her lips though.
"Stay," she breathed out before her head fell back.
Erik wept.