The Coffin and the View
Christine had never liked Erik's room. The funeral hangings with their requiem notes that swathed the walls and the twisted metal candelabras that dripped dark wax into shimmering black pools in the warped dishes did not serve well to create an inviting atmosphere. The countless eyes of the mortuary figures that adorned the ominously colossal structure of the pipe organ covering the far wall scowled fiercely at Christine across the one object in this room that perhaps filled her with more horror than any other of Erik's morbid devices. Her eyes were locked on the coffin for only a moment...But it was a moment of such clarity that even as she scrambled back on the floor and turned away in choking, hysterical fear, she still saw so vividly before her, the blaze of the candles dancing like fiery demons off the polished ebony wood and the gruesome black shadows that lurked between each fold of blood red satin that lined the interior of that container of death.
Erik moved in behind her slowly and regarded the coffin, which was where he slept. "Yes, it's not a pretty sight is it? But it happens to us all. Imagine seeing your handsome, young Vicomte lying in a black box like that...Of course, the casket will probably have to be kept closed if he dies the way I have in mind."
Christine managed to stumble to her feet amid her sobs. Not one element within her could make her turn back to look at that coffin again. She had to get away! Out of this room as fast as she could! She made a hopeless dash for the door, but had to stop just as quickly as Erik moved to block her path. "No! Please!" she shrieked in absolute panic.
Erik was unrelenting. "Better to get used to it now, Christine!"
She fell down again to her knees in front of him, pleading, "Let me out! Erik, please! I want to sleep! Oh, God, please! Let me sleep! I don't want to be in here!"
Erik grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up again. "You shouldn't be in such a hurry to sleep, my dear! You never know which night it will be that you close your eyes and never open them again!" Though she sank heavily to the floor in her dread, he forced her to stay up and began to drag her back towards the coffin on its stepped platform.
She fought against him, twisting and pulling madly to try to free herself from his grip. All coherent thoughts had left her mind as she panicked and cried frantically, "No, no!"
His response only mocked her, "Yes, yes!" He pulled her up the steps and stopped then by the side of the coffin, holding her up firmly by both shoulders so that she could not turn away from it.
She shrank back against him and refused to look at it. Her knees were so weak that she was certain she would have fallen to the floor if he did not have hold of her. She begged only faintly now, "...Stop..."
"You shouldn't be so afraid of something like this, Christine. After all, it is only wood and satin...And there are so many more threatening things in this world to fear!" The way he emphasized that word 'threatening' sent crawling chills down Christine's back and shoulders where he touched her.
She did not answer for a prolonged moment as she trembled in his grip and her own hands covered her face. Finally, unable to stand there in silence while knowing the coffin lied only a few inches in front of her, she gathered the strength to speak shakily, "Please...Please can I go lie down now, Erik? I want to lie down...Please..."
He tightened his clench on her shoulders and spoke between gritted teeth. "Lie down? You want to lie down, Christine?"
She nodded quickly, not moving her hands from her face, and choked in an almost hoarse whisper, "Yes...Yes! Please...Please let me!"
Erik's answer was a furious roar: "Oh, I will do more than let you!" Suddenly, he pushed her to the coffin's edge, causing her to stumble against the side with a shriek, and then he pulled her up over it. "You may lie down all you please!" Then, he abruptly shoved her down with all his cruel force into the lushly lined box. "Lie down, Christine! Sleep for a while!"
The moment she realized what he was doing, she began to struggle again, pushing against him with all her strength and screaming through desperately terrified sobs, "No! No! Erik, no!"
"Yes, Christine! Oh, yes!" He pulled at her limbs to stretch her out and press her down to lie on her back, leaning down on her to effectively hold her there.
She continued to try and shove him away from her, trying to find any possible means to get around him and climb out. Her fingers twisted and clawed into his sleeves and the coffin's luxurious, soft inside. All words were lost to her now amid her growing, hysterical screams.
But he had made that death box inescapable to her. He held her down with an iron force and clamped his hand over her mouth to stop her panicking shrieks. "Hush, Christine. Lie still. Lie still and I won't put on the lid."
Christine froze. She had forgotten about the lid...It took her some time, but her gasping breath began to eventually subside into muted whimpers behind Erik's confining fingers. She closed her eyes tightly and the remaining tears behind her flooded lids pressed out to join the many others that flowed across her cheeks. But soon she rested as stilly as any appropriate corpse.
Only then, when he knew he had her under his control, did Erik stop holding her down by force, keeping only his hand over her mouth. He was then as still as she where he knelt alongside the coffin, and remained so, just leaning slightly over the side to watch her attentively.
Several very long minutes of silence passed between the two of them; the only sounds in the chamber were those of the soft, sizzling gasps of the black candles. But even with her eyes closed, Christine could feel him staring at her. She tried to maintain it so that the only thing in her mind now was the repeated prayer that he would let her go...But soon the overwhelming sense of his presence became impossible to ignore, and she finally found to courage to open her eyes...Though she did not look at him. She did not move at all. The fact that he was not forcing her to be there anymore, yet that she still remained in the coffin was almost even more terrifying, but she did not dare move. Her only hope was to remain very, very still...The echoing of her beating pulse, a slowly dying drum in her ears...
At last, he removed his hand from her mouth and quietly brushed the tears from her cheeks. He spoke in a tone that was far too soothing in contrast to before. "You see, Christine...It's not so terrible, is it? There is nothing inside to make you cry...It is what is outside that you should fear..."
Christine did not bat an eyelash and just stared blankly upwards...As if she had gone into some sort of shock.
He folded his arms on the lip of the coffin comfortably and looked down at her. "Everything you need is here, Christine. You never need to leave again."
She remained perfectly still. She could not see him next to her as her eyes stared vacantly up to the draped red, brocaded canopy above her. But after a long silence, Erik's words finally made their way into Christine's understanding, and she very slowly nodded her head, her pale hair rustling ever so slightly against the wickedly plush satin pillow. And even with that small movement, she could feel what was left of her energy draining away.
Erik traced the edge of her arm with a skeletal finger as he leaned against the coffin's rim. He turned his head and followed her gaze up—upwards to the draped ceiling. Upwards from below. "It is a lovely perspective, don't you think? You cannot get any lower...And there is only one way to look. Death may be a dark house...But it comes with an incredible view."