The Nothing and the Reason
Erik did not take his eyes from Christine. With quiet deliberateness, he drew the letter back and folded it in half, creasing it slowly. "Now why did you so desperately not want me to read this little note?"
Christine's nails dug into the taught skin of the chair's arms. "I...I don't know..." A probing tilt of Erik's head made her add quickly, "I was afraid you would be angry with me..." She feared his anger for very obvious reasons. After all Erik had forbidden her to see Raoul at all, much less see him every day and send him affectionate notes in which she shamelessly referred to herself as his wife!
"And why were you afraid I would be angry with you?" he asked in the same condescending tone.
"Because...You told me never to see him..." Christine answered like a good pupil and silently prayed to God that he might only chastise her and tell her not to do it again.
"Yes, I did, didn't I? I told you never to see him." It was then that Erik's voice commenced to change, and she began to realize the full extent of his acrimony and that this issue would not be over so easily by any means. "And yet, this letter of yours betrays you considerably, doesn't it? Not only do you see him on a regular basis, but also on a very close basis, it seems. And this, as you seem to think, would rightly make me very angry with you, wouldn't it?"
She leaned forward and responded hastily in hopes that she might abate the descent into rage she feared she recognized too well in his rapidly darkening temper. "Erik, I never meant any harm! Raoul and I have only spoken! We have not done anything wrong at all...He is a dear friend, and I've missed him! I have only been seeing him! Surely there can be...nothing wrong...with that..."
He sneered and crushed the letter viciously in his hand then started to advance towards where she was sitting. "A dear friend, is that right, Christine? Or perhaps, should I say, is it, Madame de Chagny?"
She stood up quickly and moved around behind the hefty chair so that it stood as a great black obstacle in his way of her. She did not dare take her eyes from him as she defended herself desperately, "It was only a joke, Erik! Only a joke! We were only playing a game...It means nothing!—"
"Nothing!" he exclaimed abruptly, cutting off however she might have continued her hopeless insistences. For the first time, the volume of his ensorcelling voice had risen. He stopped just in front of the chair, but did not yet make any move to go around to her side. "Perhaps 'nothing' is a joke to you, Christine, but do you know what it is to me?"
The sudden change from Erik's cold, yet calm bitterness to this outburst directly filled Christine with a new sense of fear. She began to fear for herself. She continued to combat this sense, though, and tried to reason with him. "How can nothing be something to you, Erik, when it is nothing! I...I am only..." She only had no idea what to say to calm him. "...I have not...done anything...I have done nothing, Erik!"
Her calming efforts did not work. "That's right, Christine. Nothing is Nothing. And you have done Nothing. Do you know what that Nothing feels like, Christine? Would you like to?"
"No!" She shook her head frantically and took a step back from the chair. "No! Erik, you're frightening me!...Please..." She only took one more step back before her dread of the smoldering eyes that bored into hers caused her to turn away and run for the safety of the door to her room once more.
He walked around the chair and followed her but with no apparent sense of urgency. "Please? Please, Madame de Chagny? You needn't beg! I shall be most obliged!"
She moved away even faster, tripping around a table and upsetting a vase that rolled off to thud against the rich Persian carpet. In complete terror, she reached the door and pulled at its handle. If she had her full senses, she would have pushed. The door latched shut and she looked back over her shoulder to see him still coming after her. She cried in a petrified gasp, "Stop it, Erik! I haven't—It was only a note! Only a note!"
He continued to walk at a steady pace, casually stepping over the vase. His words, however, were far from casually spoken as they both mocked her defense and inflated his fury, "Only a note! Only a note! Do you know what else is only a note, Madame de Chagny? An Epitaph!"
Christine froze amid her second attempt to open the door. And then she turned and stared at him, shocked and disbelieving. "You wouldn't, Erik! Please tell me you wouldn't!"
He stopped about six feet away from her and spread out his hands in a cynical gesture. "Wouldn't? Wouldn't? Wouldn't what, Madame de Chagny?"
"You wouldn't hurt him..." She let go of the door handle and turned around completely. "He has done nothing! I have done nothing, Erik, but written him a letter!..."
"You've done quite a bit more than that, I think. Words are one thing, wishes are another, and lies, Christine, lies and deception are something else entirely! And I—" His arms did not fall but both hands clenched tightly. "I would be very much obliged to make you the new Widow de Chagny!"
Her reflexes caused her to take a step toward him. "Erik! You can't!" But she immediately regretted it, and losing her nerve, she stepped right back again. "Leave him alone...Please, leave him alone! There is no reason..."
"Reason!" he shouted in an animalistic growl that set Christine's hair on end. "No reason!" The note reappeared in his hand too quickly for Christine to wonder where it had gone, and he shook it violently. "If this does not reveal reason enough, the ring on your finger more than does!"
The crumpled paper then burst fiercely into flames between his fingers, and he hurled it across the space directly at Christine. She fell back and threw up her arms, but the letter burnt out and turned to ash that scattered to the floor before it reached her.
Erik snarled in disgusted malice, "Now how would you like me to do the same to that ring?"
Christine's nails dug into the taught skin of the chair's arms. "I...I don't know..." A probing tilt of Erik's head made her add quickly, "I was afraid you would be angry with me..." She feared his anger for very obvious reasons. After all Erik had forbidden her to see Raoul at all, much less see him every day and send him affectionate notes in which she shamelessly referred to herself as his wife!
"And why were you afraid I would be angry with you?" he asked in the same condescending tone.
"Because...You told me never to see him..." Christine answered like a good pupil and silently prayed to God that he might only chastise her and tell her not to do it again.
"Yes, I did, didn't I? I told you never to see him." It was then that Erik's voice commenced to change, and she began to realize the full extent of his acrimony and that this issue would not be over so easily by any means. "And yet, this letter of yours betrays you considerably, doesn't it? Not only do you see him on a regular basis, but also on a very close basis, it seems. And this, as you seem to think, would rightly make me very angry with you, wouldn't it?"
She leaned forward and responded hastily in hopes that she might abate the descent into rage she feared she recognized too well in his rapidly darkening temper. "Erik, I never meant any harm! Raoul and I have only spoken! We have not done anything wrong at all...He is a dear friend, and I've missed him! I have only been seeing him! Surely there can be...nothing wrong...with that..."
He sneered and crushed the letter viciously in his hand then started to advance towards where she was sitting. "A dear friend, is that right, Christine? Or perhaps, should I say, is it, Madame de Chagny?"
She stood up quickly and moved around behind the hefty chair so that it stood as a great black obstacle in his way of her. She did not dare take her eyes from him as she defended herself desperately, "It was only a joke, Erik! Only a joke! We were only playing a game...It means nothing!—"
"Nothing!" he exclaimed abruptly, cutting off however she might have continued her hopeless insistences. For the first time, the volume of his ensorcelling voice had risen. He stopped just in front of the chair, but did not yet make any move to go around to her side. "Perhaps 'nothing' is a joke to you, Christine, but do you know what it is to me?"
The sudden change from Erik's cold, yet calm bitterness to this outburst directly filled Christine with a new sense of fear. She began to fear for herself. She continued to combat this sense, though, and tried to reason with him. "How can nothing be something to you, Erik, when it is nothing! I...I am only..." She only had no idea what to say to calm him. "...I have not...done anything...I have done nothing, Erik!"
Her calming efforts did not work. "That's right, Christine. Nothing is Nothing. And you have done Nothing. Do you know what that Nothing feels like, Christine? Would you like to?"
"No!" She shook her head frantically and took a step back from the chair. "No! Erik, you're frightening me!...Please..." She only took one more step back before her dread of the smoldering eyes that bored into hers caused her to turn away and run for the safety of the door to her room once more.
He walked around the chair and followed her but with no apparent sense of urgency. "Please? Please, Madame de Chagny? You needn't beg! I shall be most obliged!"
She moved away even faster, tripping around a table and upsetting a vase that rolled off to thud against the rich Persian carpet. In complete terror, she reached the door and pulled at its handle. If she had her full senses, she would have pushed. The door latched shut and she looked back over her shoulder to see him still coming after her. She cried in a petrified gasp, "Stop it, Erik! I haven't—It was only a note! Only a note!"
He continued to walk at a steady pace, casually stepping over the vase. His words, however, were far from casually spoken as they both mocked her defense and inflated his fury, "Only a note! Only a note! Do you know what else is only a note, Madame de Chagny? An Epitaph!"
Christine froze amid her second attempt to open the door. And then she turned and stared at him, shocked and disbelieving. "You wouldn't, Erik! Please tell me you wouldn't!"
He stopped about six feet away from her and spread out his hands in a cynical gesture. "Wouldn't? Wouldn't? Wouldn't what, Madame de Chagny?"
"You wouldn't hurt him..." She let go of the door handle and turned around completely. "He has done nothing! I have done nothing, Erik, but written him a letter!..."
"You've done quite a bit more than that, I think. Words are one thing, wishes are another, and lies, Christine, lies and deception are something else entirely! And I—" His arms did not fall but both hands clenched tightly. "I would be very much obliged to make you the new Widow de Chagny!"
Her reflexes caused her to take a step toward him. "Erik! You can't!" But she immediately regretted it, and losing her nerve, she stepped right back again. "Leave him alone...Please, leave him alone! There is no reason..."
"Reason!" he shouted in an animalistic growl that set Christine's hair on end. "No reason!" The note reappeared in his hand too quickly for Christine to wonder where it had gone, and he shook it violently. "If this does not reveal reason enough, the ring on your finger more than does!"
The crumpled paper then burst fiercely into flames between his fingers, and he hurled it across the space directly at Christine. She fell back and threw up her arms, but the letter burnt out and turned to ash that scattered to the floor before it reached her.
Erik snarled in disgusted malice, "Now how would you like me to do the same to that ring?"
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