Il Commiato, la Mia Principessa
Chapt. 4
Note: THANKS to all those who read and/or reviewed! I really apprieciate your feedback and suggestions. Enjoy !
White lightening cracked through the sky in an angry, jagged line. The ominous roll of thunder follwed immediately , resonating in his ears like the roar of a powerful lion, deep in the heart of an African jungle. A strong gust of ferocious wind blew, scattering dead leaves and capturing the gnarled tree branches in its unyielding whirlwind of destruction; projecting their frightening patterns in an eerie silhouette against the brightness of the full moon. Slowly opening his tired eyes, Erik gingerly lifted his head to investigate the origin of the noises; the forces of nature did not exist where he had chosen to create his residence. Becoming more alert, he suddenly realized with confusion that he was not leaning against his comfortingly dark throne in a crumpled heap of blind emotions and shattered dreams , but rather, curled up in a shivering ball on the floor of a small, rectangular chamber which was covered with rotting straw and dirt. It contained a certain smell; one of fear and damp earth, which was strangely familiar to him. Staggering to his knees and forcing his yellow eyes to open completely , a strangled gasp escaped his lips as four walls made entirely out of thin, metallic bars met with his horrifed gaze. Their silvery iridescence glistened in the pale moonlight , almost mocking him with their beauty and underlying danger. A cage. He had been placed inside a cage! A wild, indescribable fear suddenly gripped him, as his hands flew to the siding and began to beat at it with the rage of a wild animal. Groping around in the barely illuminated darkness , Erik scanned the area around him with a frightened sort of desparation ; searching in vain for the vile human being who had dared to lock him up again . Strange images of of past memories flew through his mind; recollections he thought he had buried deep inside his subconcious , unearthing them only when the thought of self -toture seemed justified . They gathered around him, penetrating the walls and forming an invisable shell of madness inside his prison. A horrible man with the smile of the Devil and a wip that cracked angrily appeared and grinned mercilessly at him, like some demoic Cheshire Cat , before disappearing into the swirling mass of forgotten horrors. He could hear a woman's shriek, and a man's voice crying loudly,
"What, in Heaven's name is that THING?" Children whimpered, and floating images of ladies ran past, carefully averting their eyes. Sticks where thrown, as well as sharp stones and pieces of glass. Trembling with rage and inhuman fear, Erik blindly attempted to ward them off with his weakened hands and pitiful cries.
"No... No!" he murmered, incoherently, over and over . His voice sounded strangely similar to a small boy's, no longer possessing the soothing, gentle beauty from his years of experienced vocalizing. A shadowy figure slowly approached the cage with a steady, meaningful stride. Believing it to the the silhouette of the grinning man, he suddenly leaped forward with an intense rage surging through his brain, letting out a powerful cry, similar to those emitted by Roman Warriors before commencing with a bloody battle . The still glowing moon at last cast a pallid beam of light onto his victim's face as Erik restrained himself; pausing as though lightening had struck him. It was not the man with the Devil's smile who stood amongst the shadows and delighted in his inner turmoil, but a figure so unexpected and shocking, it caused Erik to crawl into a far corner in alarm, a small gasp escaping from his throat. The face of Christine stared back at him through the bars.
"Christine ....." His voice was barely audible in the howling wind and laughing voices which surrounded him. She smiled, her expression bearing an eerie resemblance to the man with the wip, as she reached out to touch the cage which separated them. Lightening flashed again , casting a frightening glow upon her face, and filling her eyes with the most unimaginable fire. Reaching into the swirling black cloak which enveloped her body, her pale hand emerged , dangling a silver key between her fingertips. It glittered in the moonlight with a tantilizing luster that hypnotized him and silenced the shrieking shadows.
"Christine .... help..." Stretching a trembling arm towards her, Erik struggled to focus on the blurry figure which stood before him. He knew she was there, and that she could see him cowering before his own nightmares , and yet she would offer no assitance. Instead, her smile grew wider, as her eyes continued to dance with the strange, blazing madness of a wicked spider who had just caught a pitiful little fly in its web. Gripping the bars wildly, Erik began to feel himself slipping away from reality , as though he were falling into a deep chasm from which he would never emerge. His glowing eyes frantically cut through the blackened night , searching for some form of escape from the ghost-figures, and the Smiling Christine . Breathing hard, in deep gasps, his gaze fell upon the small, crumpled figure of the girl with the glowing green eyes huddled in the opposite corner. She, too was scanning the darkness in vain for a way out of the endless maze of insanity which surrounded them. More thunder reverberated through the horrific night , as Erik shrank back onto the dirty floor, staring intently with frightened understanding at the still laughing shadows outside his prison. Another flash of lightening ripped open the inky sky, as the heavy rain fell at last in an intense, pounding curtain. They were trapped.
Small beams of light danced in far-off corners of the dimly lit room, like fireflies, floating from one tree to the next . Her head pounded as she gingerly lifted it from the knees which were pulled tightly against her heaving chest. Scanning the darkened room, Bianca slowly began to recall the horrifying illusion of ultimate human suffereing she had witnessed , before cowering before her dellusioned host in a breathless ball of timid fear and confusion. Instantly , her eyes flew to the throne, effortlessly pushing away the blurry images which come with weakened fatigue . They glowed with their eerie resemblence to a dangerous panther's as she desparately searched the dimly lit room for some sign of the mysterious madman with whom she was imprisoned. A warm, wet sensation ran down her forehead and onto her pale face, causing her trembling hand to brush fervently at her cheek. The familiar scarlet stain of fresh blood tainted her thin fingers, and Bianca realized the wound Erik had caused and then doctored must have broken and continued to bleed. Suddenly , as though he had appeared out of nowhere, she saw him; standing perfectly still near his fine organ, gazing expressionless into nothing. She thought for a moment , in her illogical state of exhaustion , that perhaps it was not him at all; that she had somehow mistaken him for a beautifully sculpted image of her elusive host . He was standing so straight and motionless he could have been easily made of stone. Wiping irritably at her relentless injury and reaching for one of the low-burning candles which rested upon the cold floor, Bianca released herself from the tightly folded position she had created and silently crawled towards him , unsure of why she was placing herself within his dangerous grasp. Still , he exhibited no movement or evidence of life . It was as though he had removed himself from the world below the streets, and was floating up to some placidly odd Heaven where he would at last escape the suffering he so intently knew . Stopping at the base of his rigid body, Bianca timidly pushed the candle up towards his face, exposing his white mask in the pale illumination; almost blinding her with its harsh reflection. Seeing the unusual tranquility which danced in his glowing eyes, she began to wonder if perhaps he was indeed in some other world; a form of catatonic fit which caused a person to completely detatch themselves from reality without any instigation as to when they would return , if they did at all.
"Erik ....." she breathed quietly into the darkness , unsure of how she wanted him to respond. There was a long, frightening pause, during which neither occupants of the cavernous cellars dared inhale a foolish breath, until, at last the impending silence was broken by a voice which sounded as though it was filled to its maximum containment with memories.
"She believed I was her Angel . It truely hurt her to learn I was nothing more than a mortal man ." His voice possessed a surprisingly smooth and soothing quality, despite the harsh, rigid facade he projected , and Bianca exhaled slowly as the murmered words caressed her ears.
"Has it been not even a year since I first saw her ? It is difficult to think that such great amounts of wonderous anticipation and tantalizing pain would occur during the minute course of several months . I feel so old, almost as though she stole the youth I once thought was eternal . I now realize that it was not I who possessed the callow happiness which seemed to fill my entire surroundings, but her. She was the innocent child, the bright angel , and I was nothing more than the pitiful creature of darkness who thought that perhaps he could bask in her light and steal it for his very own ." He stopped, and Bianca could sense his hesitation in the damp, underground air. Feeling as though she had stepped outside of her body and was watching the curious scene unfold from a safe, dark corner, she quietly allowed one word to slip from her throat, before having the chance to examine it in her mind.
"Christine ?" she asked, timidly, noticing how beautifully the candle light danced in his oddly placid eyes. He turned towards her at last . His expression, no longer cold and marbleized, projected a soft, painful understanding which told Bianca she had guessed correctly . "She was no doubt someone you cared for very deeply . Someone you loved ...." Her voice trailed off into nothingness as her own flood of wrenching recollections returned too quickly with a sharp, stabbing sensation . The hurt embedded so deeply in Erik's expression mirrored her own with such cutting acuteness that she had to look away, for fear of dissolving into nothing more than a crumbling heap of blind suffering as he had done.
"She was my Angel , as I was to her. However, my wretched heart somehow withstood the agony of betrayal. Her's could not. It seems so foolish now , to think that I could have deceived her forever . But she was so innocent; a lost child who called out for the one thing I knew she would never have.... unless I was to intervene. I think perhaps I would do it again , had I the chance ; though it was the first of many steps to my inevitable destruction." Bianca slowly raised her head to face him in the soft light once more . His gaze had adopted a glassy incandescence as he gently stroked the fine organ; his harsh breathing echoing throughout the darkened passages.
"The only other woman I have ever implored with such longing was my mother. It is actually quite curious to think how much they resemble each other ; both anticipated my arrival with excitement and wonderful plans of endless happiness , however, when I was revealed to be nothing more than a frightening antithesis of what was believed , I was swept aside and feared, like the hideous spiders one finds behind walls and underneath floors. I knew Christine could never accept me as I was ; she was too naive to look beyond the surface, so I wore the mask of the Angel of Music and carefully play-acted my role with astounding prescion and extreme caution, until my Pandora accquired too much unnecessary knowledge, and became dangerously curious. Something inside us shattered when the mask fell away, and the illusion distorted. We both realized the Fairy Tale had at last come to an end, and only cruel reality was left, staring us in the face. She, of course , became frightened and turned to the only sold, protective person she had in her irrational state of mind. I, on the other hand, went mad. Though I've tried, I still cannot recall the exact thoughts which were surging throughout my entire being during my dellusion . I only know that I was far beyond the point of sanity; it did not matter how I was to accomplish it, even if she and I were to die. I would not be subdued and rejected again . Even the omnipotent Opera Ghost has his limitations . I was no longer Erik , but Don Juan Triumphant ; dark, unforgiving and unyeilding to any and all pitiful cries for mercy . I heard no one; saw no one except Don Juan in all his devilsh glory , and thus I had carefully dug my own grave, for there was no other way out. I had fallen down too deeply into the chasm, and yet, though I tried , somehow failed to pull her in after me . She was too celestial, too heavenly to be condemned to an eternity of black sorrow and useless tears. At long last , my cage opened and the free world exposed itself in a brief, astounding rush of light, but my Angel was the only one to escape its sinister hands; quietly locking the door of my prison behind her for the final time . She is the sole possessor of the key, who must bear the burden of freedom forever , as I must continue to bear the burden of eternity ."
Though his story was vague and obscurred, Bianca found she could decipher its powerful meaning, almost as though she had been there to witness each painfully bitter detail. Life had been cruel to Erik , whether he had been deserving of it was beyond her comprehension, and the agony Christine had caused was the last he would ever encounter in this world . A single tear slid down her pale cheek and gently extinguished the candle she held in her trembling hand.
Chapt. 4
Note: THANKS to all those who read and/or reviewed! I really apprieciate your feedback and suggestions. Enjoy !
White lightening cracked through the sky in an angry, jagged line. The ominous roll of thunder follwed immediately , resonating in his ears like the roar of a powerful lion, deep in the heart of an African jungle. A strong gust of ferocious wind blew, scattering dead leaves and capturing the gnarled tree branches in its unyielding whirlwind of destruction; projecting their frightening patterns in an eerie silhouette against the brightness of the full moon. Slowly opening his tired eyes, Erik gingerly lifted his head to investigate the origin of the noises; the forces of nature did not exist where he had chosen to create his residence. Becoming more alert, he suddenly realized with confusion that he was not leaning against his comfortingly dark throne in a crumpled heap of blind emotions and shattered dreams , but rather, curled up in a shivering ball on the floor of a small, rectangular chamber which was covered with rotting straw and dirt. It contained a certain smell; one of fear and damp earth, which was strangely familiar to him. Staggering to his knees and forcing his yellow eyes to open completely , a strangled gasp escaped his lips as four walls made entirely out of thin, metallic bars met with his horrifed gaze. Their silvery iridescence glistened in the pale moonlight , almost mocking him with their beauty and underlying danger. A cage. He had been placed inside a cage! A wild, indescribable fear suddenly gripped him, as his hands flew to the siding and began to beat at it with the rage of a wild animal. Groping around in the barely illuminated darkness , Erik scanned the area around him with a frightened sort of desparation ; searching in vain for the vile human being who had dared to lock him up again . Strange images of of past memories flew through his mind; recollections he thought he had buried deep inside his subconcious , unearthing them only when the thought of self -toture seemed justified . They gathered around him, penetrating the walls and forming an invisable shell of madness inside his prison. A horrible man with the smile of the Devil and a wip that cracked angrily appeared and grinned mercilessly at him, like some demoic Cheshire Cat , before disappearing into the swirling mass of forgotten horrors. He could hear a woman's shriek, and a man's voice crying loudly,
"What, in Heaven's name is that THING?" Children whimpered, and floating images of ladies ran past, carefully averting their eyes. Sticks where thrown, as well as sharp stones and pieces of glass. Trembling with rage and inhuman fear, Erik blindly attempted to ward them off with his weakened hands and pitiful cries.
"No... No!" he murmered, incoherently, over and over . His voice sounded strangely similar to a small boy's, no longer possessing the soothing, gentle beauty from his years of experienced vocalizing. A shadowy figure slowly approached the cage with a steady, meaningful stride. Believing it to the the silhouette of the grinning man, he suddenly leaped forward with an intense rage surging through his brain, letting out a powerful cry, similar to those emitted by Roman Warriors before commencing with a bloody battle . The still glowing moon at last cast a pallid beam of light onto his victim's face as Erik restrained himself; pausing as though lightening had struck him. It was not the man with the Devil's smile who stood amongst the shadows and delighted in his inner turmoil, but a figure so unexpected and shocking, it caused Erik to crawl into a far corner in alarm, a small gasp escaping from his throat. The face of Christine stared back at him through the bars.
"Christine ....." His voice was barely audible in the howling wind and laughing voices which surrounded him. She smiled, her expression bearing an eerie resemblance to the man with the wip, as she reached out to touch the cage which separated them. Lightening flashed again , casting a frightening glow upon her face, and filling her eyes with the most unimaginable fire. Reaching into the swirling black cloak which enveloped her body, her pale hand emerged , dangling a silver key between her fingertips. It glittered in the moonlight with a tantilizing luster that hypnotized him and silenced the shrieking shadows.
"Christine .... help..." Stretching a trembling arm towards her, Erik struggled to focus on the blurry figure which stood before him. He knew she was there, and that she could see him cowering before his own nightmares , and yet she would offer no assitance. Instead, her smile grew wider, as her eyes continued to dance with the strange, blazing madness of a wicked spider who had just caught a pitiful little fly in its web. Gripping the bars wildly, Erik began to feel himself slipping away from reality , as though he were falling into a deep chasm from which he would never emerge. His glowing eyes frantically cut through the blackened night , searching for some form of escape from the ghost-figures, and the Smiling Christine . Breathing hard, in deep gasps, his gaze fell upon the small, crumpled figure of the girl with the glowing green eyes huddled in the opposite corner. She, too was scanning the darkness in vain for a way out of the endless maze of insanity which surrounded them. More thunder reverberated through the horrific night , as Erik shrank back onto the dirty floor, staring intently with frightened understanding at the still laughing shadows outside his prison. Another flash of lightening ripped open the inky sky, as the heavy rain fell at last in an intense, pounding curtain. They were trapped.
Small beams of light danced in far-off corners of the dimly lit room, like fireflies, floating from one tree to the next . Her head pounded as she gingerly lifted it from the knees which were pulled tightly against her heaving chest. Scanning the darkened room, Bianca slowly began to recall the horrifying illusion of ultimate human suffereing she had witnessed , before cowering before her dellusioned host in a breathless ball of timid fear and confusion. Instantly , her eyes flew to the throne, effortlessly pushing away the blurry images which come with weakened fatigue . They glowed with their eerie resemblence to a dangerous panther's as she desparately searched the dimly lit room for some sign of the mysterious madman with whom she was imprisoned. A warm, wet sensation ran down her forehead and onto her pale face, causing her trembling hand to brush fervently at her cheek. The familiar scarlet stain of fresh blood tainted her thin fingers, and Bianca realized the wound Erik had caused and then doctored must have broken and continued to bleed. Suddenly , as though he had appeared out of nowhere, she saw him; standing perfectly still near his fine organ, gazing expressionless into nothing. She thought for a moment , in her illogical state of exhaustion , that perhaps it was not him at all; that she had somehow mistaken him for a beautifully sculpted image of her elusive host . He was standing so straight and motionless he could have been easily made of stone. Wiping irritably at her relentless injury and reaching for one of the low-burning candles which rested upon the cold floor, Bianca released herself from the tightly folded position she had created and silently crawled towards him , unsure of why she was placing herself within his dangerous grasp. Still , he exhibited no movement or evidence of life . It was as though he had removed himself from the world below the streets, and was floating up to some placidly odd Heaven where he would at last escape the suffering he so intently knew . Stopping at the base of his rigid body, Bianca timidly pushed the candle up towards his face, exposing his white mask in the pale illumination; almost blinding her with its harsh reflection. Seeing the unusual tranquility which danced in his glowing eyes, she began to wonder if perhaps he was indeed in some other world; a form of catatonic fit which caused a person to completely detatch themselves from reality without any instigation as to when they would return , if they did at all.
"Erik ....." she breathed quietly into the darkness , unsure of how she wanted him to respond. There was a long, frightening pause, during which neither occupants of the cavernous cellars dared inhale a foolish breath, until, at last the impending silence was broken by a voice which sounded as though it was filled to its maximum containment with memories.
"She believed I was her Angel . It truely hurt her to learn I was nothing more than a mortal man ." His voice possessed a surprisingly smooth and soothing quality, despite the harsh, rigid facade he projected , and Bianca exhaled slowly as the murmered words caressed her ears.
"Has it been not even a year since I first saw her ? It is difficult to think that such great amounts of wonderous anticipation and tantalizing pain would occur during the minute course of several months . I feel so old, almost as though she stole the youth I once thought was eternal . I now realize that it was not I who possessed the callow happiness which seemed to fill my entire surroundings, but her. She was the innocent child, the bright angel , and I was nothing more than the pitiful creature of darkness who thought that perhaps he could bask in her light and steal it for his very own ." He stopped, and Bianca could sense his hesitation in the damp, underground air. Feeling as though she had stepped outside of her body and was watching the curious scene unfold from a safe, dark corner, she quietly allowed one word to slip from her throat, before having the chance to examine it in her mind.
"Christine ?" she asked, timidly, noticing how beautifully the candle light danced in his oddly placid eyes. He turned towards her at last . His expression, no longer cold and marbleized, projected a soft, painful understanding which told Bianca she had guessed correctly . "She was no doubt someone you cared for very deeply . Someone you loved ...." Her voice trailed off into nothingness as her own flood of wrenching recollections returned too quickly with a sharp, stabbing sensation . The hurt embedded so deeply in Erik's expression mirrored her own with such cutting acuteness that she had to look away, for fear of dissolving into nothing more than a crumbling heap of blind suffering as he had done.
"She was my Angel , as I was to her. However, my wretched heart somehow withstood the agony of betrayal. Her's could not. It seems so foolish now , to think that I could have deceived her forever . But she was so innocent; a lost child who called out for the one thing I knew she would never have.... unless I was to intervene. I think perhaps I would do it again , had I the chance ; though it was the first of many steps to my inevitable destruction." Bianca slowly raised her head to face him in the soft light once more . His gaze had adopted a glassy incandescence as he gently stroked the fine organ; his harsh breathing echoing throughout the darkened passages.
"The only other woman I have ever implored with such longing was my mother. It is actually quite curious to think how much they resemble each other ; both anticipated my arrival with excitement and wonderful plans of endless happiness , however, when I was revealed to be nothing more than a frightening antithesis of what was believed , I was swept aside and feared, like the hideous spiders one finds behind walls and underneath floors. I knew Christine could never accept me as I was ; she was too naive to look beyond the surface, so I wore the mask of the Angel of Music and carefully play-acted my role with astounding prescion and extreme caution, until my Pandora accquired too much unnecessary knowledge, and became dangerously curious. Something inside us shattered when the mask fell away, and the illusion distorted. We both realized the Fairy Tale had at last come to an end, and only cruel reality was left, staring us in the face. She, of course , became frightened and turned to the only sold, protective person she had in her irrational state of mind. I, on the other hand, went mad. Though I've tried, I still cannot recall the exact thoughts which were surging throughout my entire being during my dellusion . I only know that I was far beyond the point of sanity; it did not matter how I was to accomplish it, even if she and I were to die. I would not be subdued and rejected again . Even the omnipotent Opera Ghost has his limitations . I was no longer Erik , but Don Juan Triumphant ; dark, unforgiving and unyeilding to any and all pitiful cries for mercy . I heard no one; saw no one except Don Juan in all his devilsh glory , and thus I had carefully dug my own grave, for there was no other way out. I had fallen down too deeply into the chasm, and yet, though I tried , somehow failed to pull her in after me . She was too celestial, too heavenly to be condemned to an eternity of black sorrow and useless tears. At long last , my cage opened and the free world exposed itself in a brief, astounding rush of light, but my Angel was the only one to escape its sinister hands; quietly locking the door of my prison behind her for the final time . She is the sole possessor of the key, who must bear the burden of freedom forever , as I must continue to bear the burden of eternity ."
Though his story was vague and obscurred, Bianca found she could decipher its powerful meaning, almost as though she had been there to witness each painfully bitter detail. Life had been cruel to Erik , whether he had been deserving of it was beyond her comprehension, and the agony Christine had caused was the last he would ever encounter in this world . A single tear slid down her pale cheek and gently extinguished the candle she held in her trembling hand.