The Lid and the Lie
Unconsciously, Christine's lips parted as if to speak, but whatever words that might have come were caught in her throat. A sudden realization flushed through her like a tremor and her eyes began to focus again. As if she were not alive—She was lying on her back inside a coffin! Red and black! The colors of blood and death! She sat up so suddenly, it made Erik think of a corpse reanimated by a bolt of lightening. But she did not seem to even be aware of him as she at once began to literally crawl out over the side of the deathbox.
He reached across and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back down. "Oh, no, Christine! I don't think so!" In a fumble of skirts and limbs, she fell back into her previous position as he continued to speak, his calm once again too quickly peeling away to the core of his rage, "Isn't it good enough for you? Well one day, you won't have a choice, you know! You will spend much more time in a coffin than you will ever spend anywhere else! This is eternity, Christine!" He almost seemed to enjoy her struggling. "But perhaps this is not clear enough? Perhaps you need the full experience!"
She battled against him with all the strength she could summon. The nauseous fear pumped in her ears. She could hardly listen to what he was saying; her panic only let her understand one thing—Get away! She must get away! In near shrieks and sounding very clearly out of her mind, she cried in between gasps strangled by sobs, "Let go! Let go! Don't touch me! Leave me alone! Let me go!" She struck at Erik blindly with all her feeble power.
"Never!" He thrust her down forcefully with a blow that momentarily knocked the breath from her. He then moved away and turned to take up the casket's weighty lid from its resting place.
She had been released! Breath or no breath, she was not about to let the opportunity escape her and so scrambled over the coffin's side. But then— Oh, vile hesitation! The drop of the platform befuddled her for a pause of uncertainty and confusion that lasted just a moment too long.
The heavy, carved edge of the lid barely missed striking her as he swung it around. But she fell back by the force of Erik's cry alone:
"No one can escape eternity!"
She reached out and clutched at him tightly, twisting her fingers into the folds of his dress jacket, desperate for any way to keep from falling down into that box. "I don't want to stay in here! Please! Please don't—Don't make me...!"
He easily pried her hands from where she held him. "Death does not usually give us a choice, my dear." When she remained still and did not answer, he let go of her wrists.
Her eyes were focused on the void beyond him, and she was still only for the briefest moment. Then—Oh, not as roughly as before, but with the same amount of desperation—she fought for one final attempt of escape!
He forced her back down into the coffin for the last time and held her there as he slid the lid almost all the way over the opening, stopping only short of covering her face. "You will see, Christine...You will now witness firsthand what it is like to live and be dead."
She could not move her arms! Between the enclosed box and the tangles of her clothing, she was trapped! She pushed against the soft insides of the coffin—so much like the innards of the hard body of an unmerciful beast that meant to swallow her alive! "No! No! I don't want to see! Stop it!" And the way her eyes were so distant and unable to take in anything made them seem even wider...
Erik paused and leaned against the top of the lid to hold it in place while he looked down at her fear-stricken and grief-filled face. He asked with mocking tantalization, "You want me to stop?"
She begged softly but more intently than before as her vain movements began to grow feeble with hopelessness, "Stop...You must stop...Stop...!"
"All right, Christine..." His tone was almost apologetic... "All right...I won't close you in there in the dark...I'll stop."
She relaxed considerably, the tears ceasing to flow, and her movements slowly stilled. In relief, she breathed a long sigh that ended in a small sob. "Thank you..."
Erik nodded and tapped his fingertips on the surface of the black wood. "Of course, Christine, of course; it is my pleasure...There is only one thing, Christine, one thing...Do you know what that is?"
She shook her head slowly and very carefully shifted her eyes up to meet his. "...N-No..."
Erik stopped tapping as if caught by disappointment. "No, I don't suppose you would know...After all, I didn't know when you did it to me, did I?...The thing is, Christine...I am lying."
She blinked in confusion and stammered in a weak whisper, "I...I don't understand...Why are...How are you...?"
He leaned a little closer as if to confide a secret, his mask hovering just above her. "How? I shall tell you. I am lying because, although I just said that I would stop, I fully intend to close you up in this coffin." And then he drew back, his voice exploding around her, "Goodnight, Christine!"
Any relief Christine had embraced instantly evaporated, and her wracking sobs started afresh with sickened intensity. "Erik, no! Stop, please! I beg of you--Stop!" If only she could move! She tried every possible contortion to pull her arms from her sides to grip the lid! To reach that small opening over her face that was—getting smaller!
The sound of Erik's demonic laughter was the only response she received to her broken cries as he slid the coffin lid shut, closing it over her completely.
Then his voice pierced through the wood and was inside the box with her—a chilling cry, "Words mean nothing, do they, Christine? But you see now how they can bring death! All around you!"
She had gone very silent when the dark came, but it lasted only a moment or two before she began to scream again, shuffling and banging against the lid in absolute frantic hysteria.
Erik savored her screams in serene mirth as he flipped down the latches that would prevent her escape. Then he stood up and walked over to the organ where he snuffed out the candles that were still lit, casting the entire room into darkness. On his way to the door, his voice cut through Christine's screams one last time, "Sleep well tonight, my love! And be sure not to have any nightmares!" Then he left the room and closed the door behind him.
How she screamed! In all her horrifying experiences, Christine had never known such torturous panic! Trapped! Trapped in death! Doomed—Damned! And buried alive! Screaming—Screaming and choking! Strangling on her own tears and fluids! And so much blackness! The achluophobia was so omnipotent that her heartbeats became erratic. Soon the pounding in her ears that could be nothing short of the roaring of the fires of hell overtook even the shrillness of her shrieks. And then she saw the flashes of the flames before her eyes! Snapping bolts, white and red—Brilliant and frightening! Illuminating the darkness in and out of her mind! And the terror—The terror stretched on! Unrelenting even as she slipped into unmerciful unconsciousness.
But Erik was gone. And he did not return to mark her; so he did not know if she ever did fall asleep...But he was counting on it. Oh, he sincerely hoped for it. After all, he wanted Christine to know. To truly know—Just what it felt like to wake up—Inside of a coffin.